By Robert R. McCammon
Robert McCammon captivates readers and stretches the limits of mind's eye with each new e-book he writes. There are actually over five million copies of his books in print, and his final 3 novels, The Wolf's Hour, Stinger, and Swan music, have been big apple occasions bestsellers, incomes him accolades as probably the most leading edge storytellers of our time. In Mine, McCammon takes the reader past terror . . . into one woman's surprising global of insanity and obsesion.
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I’m allergic to bees, but who keeps eyeball bees? Eyekeepers? “Human,” Eye says, “this is a stabilizer. ” 63 CAMERON PIERCE A needle pricks my neck in the same vein that the tentacle-eye latched onto. I yelp. My eyes shoot open. Hari strokes my head to soothe me but I cannot be soothed. Ira sobs, crying so hard for help because her legs are missing. I open my mouth but realize that saying Hey, where’d your legs go? would be laughably inadequate. I strain to check the status of my own legs but the strap pins my neck to the table.
Ira flails against the straps, putting on a real good Joan of Arc act as Wayne yells out a prayer. “Aaiwass! Thelema! ” he says, and then something about God being in his heart. Eye turns around holding four foot-long sandwiches in his arms. They seem to be no different than normal sub sandwiches except for the dripping green glop and the single elongated eyeball dangling tentacle-like from each of them. Eye sets a sandwich on Donkey’s chest. The tentacle-eye immediately sets to work. It clamps onto the crusted flesh stump where Donkey’s head should be and pumps the green goop down its tube-shaped body and into Donkey’s corpse.
Ira cuts a door in the gray, semi-translucent trunk with her Jerry. It’s all fishy and I’ve got to clamp my mouth shut to prevent vomit from shoveling out. As we crawl into the tree, new flesh immediately seals the doorway behind us. The stuffy air tastes saltier and the fishiness disappears. Gravity vanishes and we float up, up, up into the skull of the Tree of Knowledge. Being inside the tree’s skull reminds me of a black and white movie, or how it might feel to live inside a black and white movie.