Synopsis: A day laborer is hired as part of a crew to clean up a flooded creek after a flood just outside of Boulder, CO.
Thirty minutes later, that five o’clock whistle blowing a couple hours late, my uncle’s unregistered Buick fell into its usual routine of refusing to start, and I was the only one still parked in the pullout. I sloped back down to the creek to splash my face, consider my life, and all the decisions I’d made to get me to this point.
He finds a very old skeleton under a tree. Selling the skull would bring a lot of books, and a coworker tempts him with an instant request to buy.
If there wouldn’t come up a police officer just at the wrong time! Shit hits the fan when darkness is falling and the skeleton rises.
Review: I should’ve known better than to read something from the author of The Only good Indians. Masterful horror, yes, but nothing for my flattering nerves.
Those workers are down on their lucks in more than one sense. Both characters – the protagonist and his coworker are vividly drawn and highly interesting. There’s much going on between the lines, demonstrating Jones’s skills as a storyteller.
Readers of horror will enjoy this story far more than I did.