By Basil Copper
'[The writer] has explored this grimly somber realm of human fact with a sensitivity and talent that's nearly unprecedented one of the fable writers of our age. All seven stories in [this publication] deal with the topic of loss of life, yet in every one example this universal subject matter has been magically transmuted in the course of the incomarable alchemy of Copper's superb macabre imagination.'
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Extra info for And Afterward, the Dark: Seven Tales
I dunno, Boyd," he finally said. " He hesitated, then went on. " "Oh," was all Boyd said. He was beginning to wonder if the butter had slipped off Dud's biscuit. The farmer reached into a bib pocket, his hands shaking a little. He fumbled with a piece of paper, then handed it to Boyd. " Boyd unfolded the paper and took a look at it. It was a drawing of a long, rectangular box. The rendering was amazingly precise, completely with the proper measurements and dimensions. Something bugged Boyd about the blueprint, though.
He looked in the rearview mirror again. The tarp rose a foot or so, then eased back down. He waited for the lurching shudder of someone's weight on the truck bed, but it never came. Dud watched for a black form to leap over the tailgate and merge with the darkness, but he knew he wouldn't see it. Not in the mirror. His stomach boiled and he tasted bile in the back of his throat. He would have given his eyetooth for a roll of Turns at that moment. His hands clenched the steering wheel nervously.
Kiefer Sutherland was snarling into the camera, fangs exposed and eyes glowing an ugly blood red. Dud closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them and glanced in the Dodge's rearview mirror. He could see the reflection of the truck's back window and the bed just beyond. Dud could faintly make out the dark bulge of a canvas tarp draped over something long and rectangular. Dud thought of what lay underneath that tarpaulin, as well as his reason for being there. Just thinking about it made him skittish.