As school lets out for summer vacation, people start planning trips, family trips or solo trips, getting away from it all for part of the summer. So of course this is the PERFECT time to pick up a book about a bunch of psychopaths driving the American roads, killing and destroying and taking whoever they want.
The Suicide Motor Club, by Christopher Buehlman, starts in classic horror story fashion, with a happy family in seemingly peaceful, happy surroundings. It’s 1967 and Judith Lamb is riding in a 1965 Ford Falcon with her husband, Robert, and her five year old son, Glendon, heading from New Mexico to Texas in the evening. Perhaps not everything is idyllic, but things are looking good for Judith, until the black Camaro pulls up alongside them, the driver and the passengers looking disturbing and strange, and one of them grabs hold of her son and pulls him out of the car. Of course Judith fights to keep Glendon with her, but the creatures in the other car manage to drag the child into the Camaro and drive away. When she and her husband tear off after the Camaro, another car, a red GTO, deliberately crashes into their car, sending it spinning into a terrible crash, which should have killed both the people in the car. The driver of the GTO keeps on going, leaving the scene of the accident, certain there are no survivors.
But there is one. Judith manages to survive the horrific accident. She knows what she saw, even if it’s unbelievable to everyone around her, even if it’s all but unbelievable to her. The people in those two cars weren’t human. They killed her husband, they stole her son, and the only thing she wants in this world is revenge. It’s not going to be easy for her to find these creatures, let alone destroy them, but she is on a mission and we’re riding along with her.
A quick read, a dark and disturbing book that (if anyone’s doing the 2016 Reading Challenge) satisfies the category “Read a Horror Book,” The Suicide Motor Club is just the book to read on your vacation.