THE LAST IN LINE- Author’s Liner Notes:
(Or why the hell would I write a retro-zombie apocalypse story?)
The Last in Line, or Aeternus Umbra – as it was originally titled, was the very first serious writing project I had ever written. Oh sure, I had written tons of comic book scripts, character backstories for my D&D, Traveler, Twilight 2000, Gurps, Champions, games, but the LIL was a novel, by gum, and I entered into that bold and crazy adventure by pure, Erbal accident. There’s too much, let me sum up.
In April 2004, my Mom passed away and while that is a whole other sad book, this event changed my life forever. After the shock wore off, Shelly and I realized that my Dad wouldn’t be able to live alone and would need company and care. So, after much thinking and planning, we purchased my childhood home and moved in with my Dad back in my hometown of Marion, New York in July.
It didn’t take me too long to realize, as much as I loved my Dad, he could be a ‘handful.’ And boy let me tell ya, that is being gentle. I was attending Nazareth College in Rochester, completing my master’s in art education while Shelly was building her career at her job. Our daughter, Talana (Tali) had a couple years left of high school and was kind enough to provide us with her own unique style of difficulties. Teenagers, what are ya gonna do? Needless to say, xv
those were some challenging years. But, the highlight of her switching schools was the fact that she got to graduate from my Alma mater, Marion, Jr. /Sr. High school. (A setting which is featured in this book. Pretty groovy, huh?)
Well, I graduated with my degree in 2005 and proceeded to unsuccessfully look for a teaching gig in our rural county. That led to some frustrating times as well, but, on a high note, as a graduation gift, Shelly had the third bay of our garage converted into an actual studio space for me. There, I had a cement floor, walls, a door, windows and a place to escape to when the real world inside Hell’s 1/2 Acre grew too . . .well . . . hellacious. So, it’s within those very sacred new walls, I was able to play my drums, work on drawings, paintings, crank my PA loud whilst I recharged my batteries and got my Erbal mojo back into working order. I’m not sure of the year, but it was around 2007 when I went to Webster to see the latest Resident Evil flick. Now, I have always been a zombie-phile, so, an afternoon filled with buttery popcorn, cold Dt. Coke and Mila kicking some rotting, undead ass, sounded like heaven to me. So I got there early, as always and found my seat. There may have only been a handful of other zombie-lovers in the theater, (just as I prefer it).
So I settled in and got ready for some zombie-goodness. I promptly fell asleep. I awoke just as the movie started, but it was the dream I had that would change my life forever. I awoke in the very same theater, but all was dark. Not even those strings of floor lights on the stairs offered any illumination. I staggered to my feet and looked around. There was no one else on the place. I felt and fumbled my way down the stairs and made my way to the exit. It didn’t budge. A strange, bitter smell crept in through the seams of the door and held the stench of fire, and burnt, flesh. I slowly made my way to the fire door in the front of the theater and it too offered resistance. I gave the metal door a few good slams and it finally opened up enough for me to get my chubby arse through.
I felt bile rush forth into my mouth as I discovered the source of the blockage. It was two dead ushers, who looked as if they had been mauled and half-eaten by a grizzly. I looked out into the parking lot, toward town and all around was bloody chaos. Screams of horror and people violently attacking on another. No! Eating them! Fires raged in nearby buildings and sirens blared as a cold rain came down. Something tugged at my leg and I jumped back, as one of the dead bodies, began to grope at me and tried to bite me. Their eyes were gone, replaced by a fiery red glow as black tears fled down their red-slicked face. I screamed and woke up. The movie had just started and I fought to catch my breath. I enjoyed the movie, relished in the buttery popcorn and diet soda. But that dream stuck with me. My mind raced with ideas and possibilities. I’m not even sure why. I raced home, hung with my Dad for a bit, took Rask, our adorable, yet grumpy lab-mix, out for his evening business trip and quickly ran to the Studio and sat down and began writing my very first novel. (And yes, he is in the book as well. He’s actually a mix of Rask and a pudgy, yellow lab we had when I was a teen, Maico. Keep reading and you shall see.) Aeternus Umbra/ the Last in Line was born that day and I’ll never forget the magic and overwhelming sense of serendipity that washed over me. Now it’s seen many revisions and changes over the past ten years and with the help of many folks, especially Louise Bohmer and Kurt Criscione. I feel this is the story I always wanted to tell, but the inexperienced writer in me back then didn’t quite have the skill, or the proper voice to tell the tale.
The Last in Line is an ode to many fathers: George Romero, Brian Keene, Frank Miller, comic books, heavy metal, Dungeons & Dragons, my friends, hell, my entire childhood and hometown of Marion, New York, aka, Arcadia Falls. I’ve gone on to write other books and short stories with plans to write many more novels, but, this book you hold in your hands is not only a fun, retro-zombie novel, it is indeed a historic milestone in my life. Here we are so many years later, I truly hope you dig it.
So, snag a copy here, pop a squat, put on some Dio or Iron Maiden vinyl, grab a cold beverage and close the door. (It might enhance your experience just like it did mine whilst writing the book.) My advice to you, dear reader, dear Citizen, when the universe calls, answer the damn phone and never forget the inspirational and immortal words of Kevin Smith, go out and live a “why not” life!
– Thom Erb, Feb. 2018. Hell’s ½ Acre, NY.