This was probably one of the shittiest books I’ve read from Stephen King in all my life. Why? The names sound made-up, the story is lacking in development and is seriously peppered with cultural references which will be obsolete in a decade.
This one was Justin Bieber. Justin’s teeth had been blacked out, and someone had added a Notzi swat-sticker tattoo to one cheek.
“Just thought you might like to know that there’s a little kid playing Freddy Fuckaround at the Mile 81 rest area. You know, where the Burger King used to be?”
A car comes out of nowhere and for some reason decides to stop at a closed road stop at Mile 81. If anyone touches it, they die, horribly.
Now this service stop on Mile 81 is about to receive some helpful traffic.
We have all driven on the rapid fast lane but time and tiredness takes it toll on our souls and a long overdue rest is always advised but where? After reading this you may think twice on exactly where you stop. When out there in your motor vehicle you see desperate souls looking like they are stranded its best to leave it to the Breakdown services or the Police, for might not be what it seems and you don’t want to get caught up in a Venus fly trap of a point of no return stop.
What I liked:
Most of the characters meet a terrible fate, and it’s King’s ability to make you care so quickly about them that steals the show. Also, the atmosphere of the abandoned rest stop is outstanding.
I enjoyed the main kid, ten year old Pete Simmons, and his experience with seeing his first “shaved pussy” and his first taste of vodka, but overall, the story is a bit like a chocolate chip cookie without the chocolate chips, an Oreo without the delicious white stuff, or an empty swimming pool on a hot summer afternoon.
Also, at the end, we get a short preview of 11-22-63.
What I didn’t like:
I felt as if I had read the opening chapter to an abandoned novel, or perhaps a FROM A BUICK 8 prologue that was abandoned in favor of not making the car so obviously homicidal.