Level Zero by Dan McDowell (books that read to you TXT) 📕
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- Author: Dan McDowell
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Level Zero
Dan McDowell
© Copyright Dan McDowell 2021
Black Rose Writing | Texas
© 2021 by Dan McDowell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.
First digital version
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Print ISBN: 978-1-68433-704-0
PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING
www.blackrosewriting.com
Print edition produced in the United States of America
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“A dark thriller that draws the reader in.”
–Morning Bulletin
“I never want to hear mention of bolt-cutters, a live rat and a bucket in the same sentence again. EVER.”
–Ginger Nuts Of Horror
Praise for
LEVEL
ZERO
CURATED BY EDITORS AT BOOKBUB as a
FEATURED NEW RELEASE FOR HORROR (2021).
HORROR FINALIST FOR MAXY AWARDS (2021)
BEST THRILLERS BOOK AWARD NOMINEE - HORROR (2021)
“The Shining meets Dante’s Inferno. Level Zero is brimming with sinister surprises sure to keep horror fans up at night. Hellish hospitality awaits... McDowell’s portrait of two self-absorbed, morally-challenged men -- and the price of living life without empathy - is hard-hitting and utterly believable.” –Best Thrillers
5/5 Stars.
“A solid chilling horror. McDowell builds a world of betrayal, dark intrigue, decay, and uncanny in this tightly constructed horror. Dark and often bone-chilling, the novel generates both chills and thrills.”
–The Prairies Book Review
5/5 Stars.
“Creepy and bizarre; a combination of elements makes Level Zero an intriguing read for horror fans. Unreserved and disturbing, this is a gripping tale from Dan McDowell.” –Reader’s Favorite
DEDICATION
FIRST:
To the one who took my breath away.
You always shoot straight, calling my bluff when I don’t realize it, and motivating me every step of the way to be a better man.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
For my love, Tiffiny.
SECOND:
To my children and all that pick up this book:
Keep dreaming.
Keep believing.
Keep learning.
Keep creating.
Find your purpose and run like you never have before.
It’s all but temporary, our existence. Make it meaningful.
WARNINGS AGAINST FOLLY
PROVERBS 6:12-19
A troublemaker and a villain, who goes about with a corrupt mouth, who winks maliciously with his eye, signals with his feet and motions with his fingers, who plots evil with deceit in his heart — he always stirs up conflict.
Therefore, disaster will overtake him in an instant; he will suddenly be destroyed—without remedy.
There are six things the LORD hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Recommended Reading
Praise
Dedication
Warnings Against Folly
SUMMER 1982
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
FALL 1982
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
WINTER 1982-1983
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
SPRING 1983
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
FALL 1983
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
BRW INFO
SUMMER 1982
CHAPTER ONE
The service was elegant, and the chosen photo was perfect, but the late Helena Reinhold remained dead. CHRIS WILKERSON stood fifteen feet from the casket next to his grieving spouse, Katrina, reflecting.
I don’t know what to say. Eight words from Katrina since Helena passed, and they were something to the effect of “change those pants,” and “that’s the wrong colored belt.” No way to a smoother landing, is there?
He stood tall, handsome, and well-dressed while Katrina donned a beautiful black dress with hints of lace and a matching head covering. With Helena’s death, the Reinhold legacy hung in the balance. Despite the continued support of her benefactors, the late Mrs. Reinhold was never likable, nor respected.
She lay motionless in the blue dress Katrina picked for her. Though bold in contrast to the mahogany box surrounding her body, the mortician’s exceptionalism in prepping Helena to match up with her best photographs was admirable — even working to choke the stench of formaldehyde from the room with hints of potpourri. The classic eye-makeup and lipstick matched her blushed cheeks while the diffused lighting illuminated her corpse in a natural color.
Her service went by with just the pomp and circumstance the elites of Riverton expected, and in a defining manner that only the prosperous could afford. With their hands separated, Chris and Katrina paid their final respects before giving a cue to the funeral director to close the lid. The pallbearers moved into position, and the rest of the room scattered. Exiting the rear of the facility, the funeral home staff escorted them toward the hearse.
He reached out to hold Katrina’s hand. She ignored him.
I’m searching for words, but I have nothing meaningful to contribute, he thought.
As they loaded into the back seat of the hearse, Katrina spoke to Chris, peering into his periwinkle eyes, “I really can’t believe this.”
Chris rolled the window down a notch and mumbled, “A means to an end.”
“You don’t need to say anything. Unless you’re going to work for a greeting card company, you can stop with the generic remarks. They got old twelve years ago.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
The graveside service ended in a blur, leaving Chris in an unshakable haze as he and Katrina drifted further apart.
. . . . .
Time went on, the bereavement leave dried up, and CHRIS WILKERSON returned to work at WGBO 530 AM. Wayne Wallace and Ramblin’ Ron sat in the studio
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