Red Rabbit
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein begs the question: Is it a horror or a science fiction novel? The second question is why it should be an either/or? Genre hybrids are a part of the history of horror fiction, and it’s grand when a melding does justice to the genres that are embraced. In the novel Red Rabbit, author Alex Grecian seamlessly stiches together a fable that incorporates supernatural horror with established elements of the Western genre. Demons coexist with dust devils in this hugely engaging narrative.
Set in Kansas in the years following the Civil War, the story begins with a burial. There is speculation that the young woman who died was cursed by Sadie Grace, a person the locals regard as the community witch. The men who bury the deceased reflect on what can be done to eliminate Sadie. They decide that a bounty might entice outsiders with a knowledge of the occult to tackle this regional problem. From there, the plot explores the motivations of the various people who travel to confront and dispatch. En route, some are joined by strangers who aren’t committed to the task but seek solace through traveling the dangerous terrain in the company of others. The territory to be covered is indeed filled with peril. There are human predators, as well as ghouls, ghosts, and demons that impede the expedition.
The large cast of characters is brilliantly executed. The author presents each persona with a rationale for behavior. At times, it is as simple as survival but more often a character has a history that dictates their behavior. For example, a former schoolteacher who became a mail order bride and subsequent widow, joins the odyssey because there is nothing left of her previous life. She has an adventurous spirit and can adapt to circumstances. In addition, she becomes protective of a mysterious child who is part of an odd assembly who seek out Sadie Grace.
Sadie herself is a fascinating character. She is aware of the price on her head and can visualize the people lured by the bounty and track their proximity. One self-proclaimed witch destruction specialist finds that his quarry is more formidable than he anticipated. He swears by the notorious Malleus Maleficarum which delineates means of killing so-called witches, but that doesn’t equip him for dealing with a bona fide magic practitioner. It’s a fine irony that later in the narrative Sadie is reading the offensive book and dismisses it as boring.
Undercurrents of humor are laced throughout the tale, often punctuating a character’s personality. Violence and carnage are part and parcel of the time and setting. And the familiarity with those things yields to a folksy-jokey acceptance of the macabre. The intrusion of the supernatural is accepted as fact. Even demons who belch frogs become, if not commonplace, an aspect of the surroundings. The rural kids are among those inured: “He took another look at the thing on the saddle horn and verified that it was a human head. He touched it. It was firm and cold, like leftover porridge. When he pulled his hand away, the head came loose and fell. It thunked into the mud, face up, rainwater pouring into its open mouth.”
It was fanciful and rewarding to follow Alex Grecian’s journey into two revered genres. Red Rabbit swept me away into its quirky yet substantial hybrid universe. This novel is another example that Nightfire, the prolific publisher of horror fiction, is continuing to offer variety within the enterprise.
