By Andrew H. Vachss
From a author whose novels were acclaimed for his or her unflinching exploration of evil comes a super selection of brief stories—some by no means earlier than published—that distill dread go into reverse to its essence—and inject it instantly into the reader's again mind. Andrew Vachss may need scissored his characters from latest headlines: a stalker prowling round an nameless high-rise; a serial killer whose transgressions mirror a formative years of hideous abuse; an inner-city gunman who's keen to take out a blockful of sufferers so one can win a second of acceptance.Tautly written and endowed with murderous ironic spin, Born undesirable plunges us into the hell that lies simply open air our bed room home windows.
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Additional resources for Born bad: stories
He's pulling bags of dope out of every pocket. Ripping open the bags, throwing the powder into the air. The cop grabs a cab from somewhere, comes screaming after us, cuts us off. Sights right down the pistol at us. "I get out of the car. Easy Eddie just sits there. We're both covered with heroin. Like we had the world's worst case of dandruff. The cop is out of his mind. ' "Eddie just looks up at him. ' "I go over to the cop, brushing the junk off my coat, pulling out these papers I had. Department of Social Services.
She asked me about the job. I told her I like flowers. They always smell good. I like bringing them to people. She asked me about counseling. I told her I still go. Twice a week. And once to the group, too. She asked me about if it bothered me to have a woman probation officer. I told her no—I like women now. When I said that, she said she wanted to see my bedroom. I was scared. But she walked in there by herself. When she saw the telescope, she got angry. I was afraid she was going to do something to me for a minute.
I looked out the window. The redhead in 18-H was home. She doesn't go out much. She has a man who comes to visit her. I always know when the man is coming. She gets dressed in sexy clothes. When he comes there, she treats him like a king. Brings him drinks, lights his cigar, sits on his lap. He's an old, fat man. Bitches always go for money. She was just lying on her couch, watching TV. I saw her hand go between her legs. She knows I'm watching. I looked into 16-F. A long time. I couldn't tell if the blonde was home.