Dead Friends Society Audiobook Exclusive: Serial Killer Story

Many, many tales have been advised about teams of associates banding collectively to defeat the forces of evil. In a approach, nearly all tales are about one thing like this. But in The Dead Friends Society, authors Peter Hall and Paul Gandersman flip that attempted and true story on its head. Not all the associates are alive.

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The Dead Friends Society is a brand new Young Adult novel a couple of group of school children who’re murdered by a masked killer known as the Fireman. Their spirits are then relegated to a single home and trapped there for many years. When a brand new household strikes in, the lifeless associates should staff up with the dwelling to cease the Fireman, as a result of he’s coming again.

The guide is out in the present day and you may get an bodily or e-copy at this link. There’s additionally an audiobook (obtainable right here), and under, we’ve bought an unique excerpt from it, each in audio and textual content. Hall and Gandersman (who, full disclosure, are private associates) describe this scene as nearly the pre-title card scene. The finish of the massive prologue. Listen or learn under.

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Drew reached for the doorknob, solely, it wasn’t there. Her hand handed by means of the air. For a second, she felt like a ghost, just like the knob was there and he or she was the one who was lacking.

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But then actuality sank in, but once more.

The Fireman smashed off this doorknob, too.

Of course he had. Why the fuck wouldn’t you see this coming?

You’re so fucking silly.

Of course he smashed this one. He smashed all of them. He’s smarter than you.

They’re all smarter than you.

You deserve this.

You should die.

“Fuck off!” Drew yelled, shocking herself.

It wasn’t at The Fireman. It wasn’t even at herself. She was yelling at each snide remark from her mother that made her really feel like a failure. She was yelling at each piece of recommendation Rose gave her that she ignored. She was yelling on the universe, on the house time continuum itself. She was calling out each swirling atom that led her to this second of self-doubt.

Drew wasn’t a failure. She was a fighter. And she was going to show it. Drew spun away from the door in a mad sprint to Eli’s workbench. She tossed apart fried motherboards and disassembled pc components till she discovered what she was searching for: needle nostril pliers.

She rammed them into the shattered lock of the door in a determined try and create her personal deal with. She saved working the pliers, attempting each doable angle. “Open, open, open, open, why won’t you fucking open?”

And then one thing modified contained in the door. The needle nostril snagged on the precise piece of steel. Holy fucking shit. Drew twisted the pliers, and the lock turned in response. She savored the clicking and had a flash of a half-remembered film the place some cool man in a denim jacket rammed a screwdriver into the ignition of a stolen automotive and twisted till the machine roared to life, driving off into the sundown. She ripped open the door, triumphant, defiant. The cool evening air kissed her pores and skin as she took her first step, crossing the edge of the door, stepping out of Greywood House as its lone survivor.

But then she heard it.

A cough.

It was faint and distant, however unmistakable.

Drew appeared up, past the tall timber and on the moon. It was full and beautiful, an impossibly vibrant highlight within the evening sky illuminating her path to security. She took one other step, following the trail.

But the coughing continued. It grew louder, harsher.

Someone upstairs in the home was nonetheless alive. And it wasn’t Eli… It wasn’t Wes…

Drew clenched her fists and stepped again into the basement.

“Rose! Is that you?” she whisper-shouted. The coughing intensified in reply; a haggard and determined battle for air, the human equal of an outdated automotive engine attempting to show over. Drew’s face full of optimism. Rose Calder was nonetheless alive. But then Drew’s eyes had been drawn to the moonlight once more. All she needed to do was run and be freed from this nightmare. She’d be free to succeed in the police, free to get assist. That was the accountable factor to do, proper? To go get the police. To allow them to cope with The Fireman. Let the professionals save Rose.

Drew knew that was a lie. There was no approach she may get assist in time to save lots of Rose. That maniac was upstairs along with her greatest pal. Drew knew what she needed to do. She needed to flip round, storm again up these rickety stairs, confront The Fireman (once more), and save Rose. Any different selection was egocentric. Any different selection was one she’d remorse for the remainder of her life. Just desirous about it was squandering precious seconds Rose didn’t have.

Drew charged again into the home, almost face planting into the concrete after tripping over a crate of videotapes. She cursed Eli’s messiness, despite the fact that she knew her room wasn’t any cleaner. The coughing intensified as she scrambled again to her ft.

And then it stopped.

The home fell silent.

“Rose!” Drew screamed, no trace of a whisper this time. Her footsteps slowed as she neared the kitchen stairs, as if her mind knew what her coronary heart wouldn’t admit. She hesitated on the base of the steps, wilting within the silence, praying that Rose would reply her; if not by calling out her identify, at the very least with one other cough, one other something to show her greatest pal was nonetheless alive.

But there was solely silence.

Drew appeared up the staircase and noticed nothing however darkness within the kitchen. She questioned if The Fireman had turned off the lights. Until the darkness moved, and Drew realized the lights weren’t off; The Fireman’s monumental physique was blocking the trail to the kitchen. He superior down the staircase towards her. His steps had been now not sluggish and deliberate. He moved quick, shaking the staircase. He pounded the partitions along with his axe as he rushed downward. THUD, THUD, THUD.

Drew raced like hell again to the basement door, again to the moonlight, again to freedom. She leapt like an Olympic hurdler over piles of Eli’s crap. The door had drifted shut, however she grabbed the plier-handle and ripped it open once more. The door was barely open an inch when it slammed again shut. At first Drew thought the home itself had come alive and slammed it shut in her face. She appreciated that clarification greater than what was actually occurring.

The Fireman had thrown his axe. It pinned the door again into its body, closing it in entrance of Drew’s horrified face. The sharp spike on the again of the axe was inches from Drew’s proper eye, threatening to carry out crude surgical procedure on her cornea.

Drew tried to scramble away from the close to miss, however The Fireman was now not affected person. The recreation of cat and mouse was over. The Fireman charged at her like a freight practice.

She by no means had an opportunity. The Fireman was on her earlier than she may react. His hand reached out and grabbed her by the throat. He lifted her off the bottom, his thick gloves closing off her oxygen provide. In a break up second, he drove Drew’s face into the spike, nailing her to the door like he was hanging a chunk of artwork.

It wasn’t like within the motion pictures. The finish didn’t final an eternity. Drew didn’t see a white gentle. Drew didn’t watch a montage of her life’s greatest moments. She didn’t see her family members. She simply felt blinding ache because the spike impaled the middle of her brow, splitting her open like a coconut. Skull, blood, brains; crack, splash, squish.

Drew Denns was lifeless.

For now.

The Dead Friends Society by authors Paul Gandersman and Peter Hall is offered now in all major guide codecs.

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