Thursday, August 11, 2011

Listened to: "Creepers" by David Morrell

Listened to: Creepers by David Morrell, 2005, downloaded from

Meh. Good enough to keep listening but not all that great. The best part of this is Morrells afterword telling his interest in, and history with, abandoned places. The power of history and memory and the feeling of stepping back in time.

Urban Explorers of abandoned buildings are preparing to visit a hotel in Asbury Park, NJ that was shuttered in 1970. The group is two guys, a gal, and an elderly professor. They are joined by a journalist in his '30s. The group is secretive. Explorers break into dangerous buildings. Abandoned buildings with rotten floors, unstable walls, creaky stairs, and holed roofs. Explorers get prosecuted to deter others and prevent injuries and deaths.

Group sneaks into building through hotel drains. Group sees mutant rats and cats. Group hears history of hotel and the reclusive, agoraphobic owner. Group finds files on crimes that happened in hotel.

Group is ambushed by three thugs who came to burgle building. One of group thrown off atrium balcony by a thug. Group and thugs open vault in suite of 1920s mobster. Vault has blond woman locked inside. She was kidnapped by Ronnie and stuck there. More death, more danger.
Ronnie kept penthouse updated and clean. Journalist not really a journalist. He wants to search building for his disappeared wife. Group finds old bodies of dead blond women. More death, more danger, many shotgun blasts. More info on Ronnie and who he is.

Journo, captured woman, and group member escape hotel to the beach. Beach showdown against the evil Ronnie.

1. I want a short barreled shotgun. I should carry some cash around to catch any god buys on used ones in gun stores.
2. Morrell grew up with arguing parents that scared the heck out of him. He would escape his apartment and visit an abandoned apartment building. Building still had furniture, plates, magazines, old records. Morrell did not feel lonely there.
3. Morrells son died of bone cancer when he was only 15. Holy crap. One thing his son said was "No one will remember me." Morrell writes about memory and history inherit in old buildings.

No comments: