In a steamy city, murder has never before been so icy. And as the toll of unsuspecting victims continues to climb, the search is on for the cold-blooded killer. Jack Eichord, serial-murder detective, is out to melt the man with the murder machine, but Jake's following an elusive trail of victims assaulted in the most horrific way&and time's running out for him&
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March 01, 2003
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Excerpt from Iceman by Rex Miller
He suffers from disjunction of the function. A monstrous thing from his past nightmares materializes and smiles hello.
"I've got a secret," the thing oozes teasingly. Teases oozingly.
"What?" he tries to say, but only dead grotto air exhales and there is no discernible sound. The monster's face is barklike, the tree-trunk neck sprouting from a foliose torso that parts and a second head pops out of the leaves saying, "Hello, bitch."
It is the face of a woman he has known. The turmoil and dust of an ancient investigation paralyzes his heart momentarily. Supine, in more ways than one, he spasms erect, his body caught in a paroxysm like a sneeze. But instead of achoo. Jack Eichord goes, "Say what?"
"You fucking bitch," she says, and he recognizes the puffy bloat that is the monster's lower head.
"Huh," he says in a weak stall for time. She was named Myrtle or Mildred or Minnie, one of the old-time names, and her last name was a state. Myrtle California. Myrtle Iowa. Minnie Minnesota. Myrtle Beach Florida. Mildred, that was it--her name was Mildred Florida, pronounced Mildred Flo-REE-duh.
"Fucking cunt," the face in the leaves says with a puffy snarl. Reverse-angle shot. Mildred Florida pokes her fat face out of the foliage and sees that banana-skin twat who won't leave her live-in boyfriend alone, and she decides to get the thing right and do it right then and she steps out on hard, sunny pavement. Intercut sequence. Eichord is taking the story at the crime scene. A man is describing what he saw out in front of the Silver Dollar Saloon.
"Mildred Florida come out an' she was drunker'n a fuckin' bag of skunks and she seen Lola and says, 'you fucking bitch fucking cunt i'll keep your eyes off him,'" and the hard, bright thing in her hand slashes and silver takes red and steel slices yellow, the high yellow flesh of Lola Somebody, and whatever Lola wants, but not this not a slash that takes the eye and leaves it hanging by an obscene thing, hanging out of the socket for all to see for the eye to see, keep an eye out and all those old lines, but signals zap out of the brain and a hand reaches into the purse for hardware.