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Exorcist: The Beginning

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Overview

BASED ON THE FILM FROM THE ACCLAIMED DIRECTOR OF AUTO FOCUS AND AFFLICTION, AND FROM THE WRITER OF THE ALIENISTIn the aftermath of World War II, Lankester Merrin finds himself in the remote Turkana region of Kenya. Haunted by memories of the war, he has taken a sabbatical from the priesthood and journeyed far from his native Holland. He has come to lead the archaeological excavation of a mysterious, Byzantine church, buried in pristine condition as if on the day it was completed.

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Author Information

Bio of Steven Piziks

I was born in Saginaw, Michigan, but I grew up in the back woods of Wheeler, a town so small it doesn't even have a crossroads. The telephone system uses a party line to this day. (Party line: a system in which you share a phone line with your neighbors. If someone leaves their phone off the hook, it's as if someone in your house hasn't hung up an extension properly and you have to run the half-mile down to their house to tell them. Since you can't tell which neighbor it is, you have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it wrong.) When I was twelve, we moved to the outskirts of Midland, home of Dow Chemical. This, my friends assure me, explains a lot. Then we moved to Saginaw, where I graduated from high school. From there, I went to Central Michigan University, where I eventually got two Bachelor's degrees--one in German/speech and one in English/health education. I currently teach English in Walled Lake, Michigan.

Bio of Alexi Hawley

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Bio of William Wisher

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Bio of Caleb Carr

Caleb Carr, a lifetime resident of New York, was born in 1955 and grew up on the Lower East Side. His father was an editor and close friend to famous Beat Generation writers, such as Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. Although Carr was personally exposed to their style of writing and Bohemian lifestyles, he chose to take his own work in a different direction. Where the Beat writers wrote purely from expression and feelings, Caleb Carr's works are diligently researched and known for their historical accuracy. Caleb Carr developed a love of history at a young age, acquiring a keen interest in military history while attending a Quaker high school. This interest led him to major in history at Kenyon College and NYU. Notable works by Caleb Carr are The Alienist, which was on the New York Times' bestseller list for 24 weeks; The Devil Soldier; and Angel of Darkness. In addition to writing fiction, Carr is a contributing editor of MHQ: The Quarterly Journal of Military History. 030

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Additional Info

Imprint

Pocket Books

Filesize

414.50 KB

Number of Pages

256

eBook ISBN

9781416505129

Excerpt from: Exorcist by Steven Piziks

THE BOY SIDLED through the door and took in the bar with a practiced, mercenary glance. Hard lines of light leaking in through the cracks of the straw window shades and snaking across the dusty floor. A scattering of cheap tables and rickety chairs, most of them empty at this time of day. The few customers staring into half-empty glasses. Flies hovering on still, hot air.

The boy's gaze passed over a young woman who nursed an infant in the corner and came to rest on a white man. The man's head was down, and his hat covered most of his face. The boy smiled and readjusted the battered bag flung over his shoulder. Inside it, wooden joints clattered like broken teeth. As the boy headed across the bar, he noticed half a dozen empty glasses on the white man's table next to a haphazard pile of coins. The boy's footsteps suddenly grew quieter and he handled the bag more carefully so it wouldn't rattle. Silver gleamed in the dusty light. The boy reached the table and edged a hand out.

The white man slapped his own hand hard over the coins. He didn't bring his head up. The boy's only reaction was to smile with crooked teeth and raise his bag. It rattled woodenly again.

"Puppet, sir " he asked, his English accented but clear enough. "Only ten piastres."

At this Lankester Merrin raised his head. He wore two days' growth of beard and a wrinkled khaki shirt with food stains dribbled down the front. His blue eyes were dull with drink, though his square face was impassive.

"Do I look like I play with puppets, son " he replied.

Undaunted, the boy fished an articulated wooden figurine out of the bag and laid it with a clatter on the table. It was about a foot high, man-shaped, with the head of a jackal. The maker had painted it in crude, bright colors.

"Anubis " Merrin asked. "Why would I want to buy a marionette done up as a death god "
"I give you one for five piastres, then," the boy said. "It's handmade. Please. My sister she's very sick."
"Your sister," Merrin said nastily, "is peddling in the next bar over." He grabbed one of the glasses in front of him, raised it, and saw it was empty. The boy hadn't moved. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you "
"No, sir," the boy replied, grinning again. "Or you can see my sister. She charges twenty."
Merrin glanced down at the marionette. The jackal-headed god's dull eyes stared back at him. One of the strings was looped around the puppet's hand, making it look like Anubis was carrying a noose or a garrote. The boy stood on the other side of the table with his shabby sack and ragged clothes, looking earnest as only a street urchin can. What the hell. Ten piastres would probably buy this kid's family two or three decent meals. Merrin sighed and flicked a coin across the table. The boy snatched it up and fled without another word, leaving Anubis behind.