Last week, I mentioned that I don’t do horror (Day Twenty-Five). Based on that post and today’s topic, I should probably retract that statement. It seems that not only do I do horror, but I rather enjoy it.
Double Dead is a glorious expletive-laden romp in the humorously grotesque. It’s equal parts disgusting, heart-wrenching, and funny.
Coburn, a vampire who used New York City as his private buffet, wakes up in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. The millions of city-dwellers he relies on to pump his veins full of the fresh red stuff, are now shambling, mindless rotters. The one thing he needs to survive is virtually extinct.
I loved this story. It’s Grade-A gross in all the best ways, full of rotting flesh, cracking bones, and cannibalism. On the surface, it’s the B-movie you catch on cable late at night with a bowl of popcorn and your sweetie snuggled up next to you.
But below that? Scratch the surface even a little bit and you see it is so much more. It’s a story of redemption, survival, sacrifice, and yes, love. It’s a vampire story. It’s a zombie story. More importantly, it’s a human story.
It will (maybe) make you think about what kind of person you would be if your world went to shit. Would that little black spot you try so hard to hide finally surface? Would you be the hero or the monster?
I give it 4.5 out of 5 braaaaaains. There are a few places the threads could be pulled a little tighter, plot-wise, and a few awkward word choices. That said, I would absolutely recommend it to friends.
Final word: Wal-Mart. I will never look at big-box retail the same.
Next week: A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs