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Post by dem bones on Nov 20, 2018 8:46:38 GMT
Guy N. Smith - Thirst (NEL, Feb. 1980) Blurb: It was the most deadly weedkiller ever invented.
There had already been an accident — an inquisitive child found foaming at the mouth, clamouring for water, his body a mass of pustulating sores. Now a whole tanker-load had gone astray — crashed into a reservoir feeding one of the most densely populated areas in Britain.
It was too late to cut off the supply. They could only wait for the horror to strike.
Thousands were already doomed to the terrible, lingering death — thousands more would die in the ensuing pandemonium as the people panicked and the authorities declared martial law ..."The living and the dying faced each other, frozen in a tableau of blood and vomit and death." Cheating truckers, randy housewives, a sane mad chemist, a teenage bike gang, disaster, blood, ultra-violence, insanity and rivers of yellow, reeking pus. Early indications (p.74 of 218) are that this is GNS at his most GNS which is never a bad sign. Greasy long haired lorry driver Mel Timberley is having it off with Maureen because he never gets any at home. Problem is, her husband just caught them in the act and he's threatened to inform Mel's employers that the young fool has driven a tanker load of dangerous chemical miles off his route for the sake of a quickie. What can he do? Best to drive Hell for leather and get the consignment to its destination for starters. A hare runs into the road. Mel swerves to avoid adding animal murder to his list of crimes .... and drowns in the Claerwen Reservoir. The liquid weedkiller leaks. It's several days before Paul Pritchard, amateur diver, discovers the truck and it's hideously decomposed driver beneath the water. Paul decides on the spot he's gonna quit corpse-locating for the police. It's too depressing. The state of this poor trucker's face has made him feel ill. He could use a drink of water. Gallons of it. Mal Evans heads The Rhayader Gang, five teen misfits who live too far from a football ground to become "soccer hooligans" so settle for poaching and menacing everyone. This is their lucky day. The river is teeming with dead trout - bin-bag this lot and they'll be quids in. Thirsty work! Ron Blythe, research scientist, the man responsible for formulating the super weedkiller, fears the worst. Should the water be contaminated then it is already too late for every household in Birmingham! Best not to let on about that yet as it will only cause widespread panic. Besides, he's other things on his mind. Ron has always fancied sister-in-law, Cathy, and now she's offering it to him on a plate. Pity her previously "unblemished thighs" are now a mass of oozing, reeking yellow pustules. It is The Festering all over again. A railway collision on the hill overlooking Ham Hall, the source of the West Midlands' energy supply. The wrecked trains and pulped passengers fall from the sky .... "The holocaust had begun."
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Post by andydecker on Nov 20, 2018 10:49:50 GMT
The beginning sounds familiar. Laurence James' "The Farm" also started with an accident.
I have most of Smith, but this I missed. I am not a big fan of disaster novels. Still must be a nice novel.
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Post by dem bones on Nov 20, 2018 11:17:16 GMT
The beginning sounds familiar. Laurence James' "The Farm" also started with an accident. I have most of Smith, but this I missed. I am not a big fan of disaster novels. Still must be a nice novel. There's more than a touch of James Herbert's The Fog about it too, in that those exposed to the weedkiller are driven violent mental as they liquify. It's been great fun so far, just hope he can sustain it. |
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Post by Swampirella on Nov 20, 2018 12:08:51 GMT
My first ever Guy N. Smith, which I came across in a small second-hand bookstore. That one book led to many more, by him and others of his ilk. Many, many, many more.......
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Post by andydecker on Nov 20, 2018 20:57:07 GMT
My first ever Guy N. Smith, which I came across in a small second-hand bookstore. That one book led to many more, by him and others of his ilk. Many, many, many more....... Not enough. Never enough ... |
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Post by dem bones on Nov 21, 2018 19:28:23 GMT
Benny Wilkes, suicidal bank cashier, plans to murder his hateful domineering father. If only he could think of a fool-proof plan. How about tampering with the brakes of the old bastard's car? The ensuing multiple pile-up kills thousands.
Tragedy as two jumbo jets collide at Elmdon airport. Firemen do their best to control the inferno but the contaminated water is highly flammable ...
The Prime Minister takes all of a micro-second to come up with a solution. Lessons will be learned; we're all in it together; and Birmingham must be sacrificed for the common good.
The army load up with dum-dum bullets, open fire on civilians trying to escape the West Midlands. Those who remain behind fare no better as military vehicles patrol the streets, taking out looters and anyone they don't like the look of.
A rooftop protest at Winston Green Prison fast escalates to all at warfare as troops open fire on the prisoners, who in turn massacre the screws. Multiple axe-murderer Mike 'Chopper' Cummings escapes in the melee.
On a happier note. "Suddenly Ron realised he was getting an erection."
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Post by helrunar on Nov 22, 2018 0:26:17 GMT
Intriguing, Kev. I had to go back to the original post to figure out just what was going on.
I know I'm truly evil--what you described made me think of a Mad magazine parody of all of Smith's novels (a word that has a convenient ring to it).
Ron had a hard-on--but was there anyone left for him to pursue it with? The question must be asked.
cheers, Steve
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Post by dem bones on Nov 22, 2018 9:01:40 GMT
I know I'm truly evil--what you described made me think of a Mad magazine parody of all of Smith's novels (a word that has a convenient ring to it). That's probably true of any one of his horrors - those I've read, anyhow. They're formula as a shudder pulp or Jules de Grandin adventure, which, of course, is their raison d'être. Ron had a hard-on--but was there anyone left for him to pursue it with? I'm glad you asked that, because .... Chapter eight is a riot. Ron Blythe, Thirst's obligatory pipe-smoking action masturbator, shares his (and, presumably Guy's?) uncompromising views on the Death Penalty, the evils of football fans/ drug addicts/ fellow "parasites", and, of course; "Sex is a funny thing. The strongest force in the world. Take our tanker that caused all this trouble. Without sex it wouldn't've happened. The driver was knocking off a bird out of his area so he used our truck as his transport. If he'd found a mistress nearer, or his wife had satisfied him enough at home so he didn't have to look elsewhere, we wouldn't be in this mess now." Ron has by now hooked up with Carol Evans, whose partner was among the thousand casualties of the Ham Hall tragedy. Their one hope of escape is to reach an office block in Aston Cross where the action committee have set up base, but that requires running a gauntlet of thirst-crazed decomposing maniacs, trigger-happy troops, and the remnants of society. Their initial attempt almost costs both their lives. Back to the bedsit for a shandy and sex break. Ron's made his mind up to leave his wife whatever happens. "Margaret's not bad looking, but this last year or two she's got a bit complacent. Sex doesn't mean a lot to her nowadays, and if she puts on a bit of weight she doesn't bother to get it off." Carol sympathises. She tends to agree with everything he says which bodes well for a happy relationship. Neither notice the intruder until he's stood before the bed with gun trained on Ron. Bloody typical. A whole city at his disposal and Chopper Cummings just had to pick Carol's bedsitter to burst in on. |
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Post by dem bones on Nov 25, 2018 11:37:28 GMT
Full speed ahead to the inevitable ropey ending. The mob storm a brewery to be met with uncompromising resistance from the military. Thirst - and lure of free beer - inspire the rabble to a famous victory against the odds. Chopper has spared Ron and Carol. He sees the weedkiller man as his best route out of the City. The unlikely trio become an even unlikelier foursome when Ron adopts a recently orphaned ten-year-old, Paul Merrick (very The Camp). The action committee are no more, cremated as one when the office block is razed to the ground. No more Spaghetti Junction, either. The distraught Blythe party doss down in a night-watchman's hut at a paint factory, initially oblivious to fact they're sharing with a dying tramp. Chapter 12 is devoted to the Prime Minister's public message to the rapidly dwindling population of Birmingham, assuring them that everything is under control, fresh water is on the way, it must never happen again, the National Health is safe in our hands, no U-turns, Britain's best days are yet to come .... The death toll escalates as City and Villa fans armed with Death Discs clash in the street. "Roughly the size of a 45 rpm single record, this disc was no more than four inches in diameter, made from solid steel, and honed on a lathe to razor sharpness. Easily concealed, it was deadly accurate, and capable of inflicting the most hideous wounds on its victims ... Its origin was amongst the soccer hooligans on the terraces, and had first been used at a match between Wolverhampton Wanderers and Manchester United, only a few miles away from its present battleground. At the time the weapon had received a certain amount of publicity in the daily newspapers, and then it was seen no more. Until now!" The Merrick boy falls ill. Suspected Typhoid! Must have caught it from that filthy tramp. Blythe insists on finding him a Doctor. Chopper gets shirty, threatens violence but, not for the first time, grudgingly relents - as psychopathic mad axemen go, Mike Cummings is magnanimous to a fault. They locate a medic, Dr. Henry Peters, fresh from euthanizing his wife and a passing stranger. The prognosis is grim, but miracles happen and Henry promises to do all he can for the poor doomed f**k*r. With no time to lose (and Guy running out of pages), the lovers and their murdering gooseberry drive a bulldozer through the barricades. Ron and Carol surrender to the authorities, Cummings escapes into the woods to be shot off page. Makes no difference, anyhow. With those who drank the contaminated water all dead, and the fires under control, 'the Battle of Birmingham' has run its course! And love survived. For a day or two. Until one morning Ron took off his shirt, and .... There's a clue in the sequel's subtitle. And remember. It Could Happen. |
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Post by ripper on Nov 27, 2018 11:25:56 GMT
Great review, Dem. 1980 was when GNS was still at his peak imo, and by that I mean oodles of violence, gratuitous bad sex and pus. I much prefer his earlier books to those when he seemed to mellow somewhat. Thirst is a Rivals of The Fog contender, wherein something causes the population or some subset of it to exhibit homicidal tendencies, sexual promiscuity and, quite often, ooze a lot of pus, for example, Plague Pit by Mark Ronson, Childmare by Nick Sharman, Ladies' Night by Jack Ketchum and The Devil's Kiss by John Hyde.
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Post by pbsplatter on Jan 10, 2023 17:06:29 GMT
This one really works because of how much stuff going on—the poisoned water isn’t just going to kill you, it’s going to make you melt. And it will make you homicidal. And it’s flammable so you can’t fight fires. And, and, and…
Just great overkill. And just when you think it’s settling down, out come the death discs…
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