Cataract City: A Novel by Craig Davidson

By Craig Davidson

A searing novel approximately buddies on contrary aspects of the legislations, from the writer of Rust and Bone, "a author of huge energy" (Peter Straub)

On the Canadian facet of Niagara Falls, lifestyles past the vacationer alternate is not effortless. Locals like Duncan Diggs and Owen Stuckey have few possibilities to depart. For Duncan, that suggests shift paintings on a creation line. For Owen, it skill pinning all of it on a shot at school basketball. yet they need to be aware of greater; they have been unfortunate earlier than. As boys, they have been kidnapped and deserted within the woods. even though they made it out alive, the reminiscence of that point will not fade. through the years they float aside, but if Duncan is drawn right into a chaotic international of bare-knuckle combating and different shady dealings, Owen, now a cop, cannot glance the opposite direction any further. jointly, they're going to be compelled to outlive the wasteland once again as their friendship is driven to the restrict in Cataract City, a white-hot novel through the emerging famous person Craig Davidson.

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I inhaled deep, dizzying breaths. Owen drove down a switchback and hit the highway. My breath came in a shallow rush—I was nearly hyperventilating. Stands of Jack pine blurred into a green wall topped by a limitless sky. I hadn’t seen unbroken sky in so long. It’s too easy to forget the sheer size of the world. We didn’t speak at all until we hit Cataract City limits. It wasn’t uncomfortable. ” “Well, old buddy, it’s like this. Every night for the past eight years I’ve lain in bed with a three-hundred-pound schizo squealing in his sleep underneath me.

Shit, yeah. We were lost and cold and hungry and terrified that we’d be torn apart by the makers of those soft, sinister noises that rebounded within the night pines. But I wasn’t scared of the man who’d brought us there. If you were to ask Dunk he’d say the same. But all this happened a long time ago, when we were kids. If there’s one time in your life you want to remember fondly, it’s those years. The man who took us into the woods was our hero, back when we were young enough to believe in those.

Bruiser Mahoney’s brown cargo van was parked around back of the arena near the Dumpsters. ” We sat hip to hip on the ripped bench seat. The van smelled of sweat and turpentine. The left side of the windshield was milky with cracks. A plastic hula girl was stuck to the dash. In the back were a few army duffels, boxes of bodybuilding magazines, sleeping bags and about a million empty Coke cans. ” I asked Mahoney. “They’re spending a night in the nick,” Bruiser said, contorting himself into the front seat.

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