Memory is emotional shrapnel. If you're lucky, it causes only occasional discomfort. If you're unlucky, a fragment breaks loose, tearing and damaging.
The characters in Edward Lorn's novel, Dastardly Bastard, are haunted by memory. Mark is a photojournalist, tormented by the deaths he has photographed. Donald is an author, who lost his beautiful girlfriend to an act of random violence. Lyle has lost his father to illness. Jaleel has lost his job, and his mind. Justine has lost her grandmother, Nana Penance, but gained the love of her life, Trevor.
All of them are going to Waverly Chasm for a guided trail hike. They aren't alone. Something in the chasm feeds off of the emotional energy generated by reliving bad memories. Something in the chasm can create alternate realities, trapping people in their darkest memories. One by one, the thickening malevolence separates the hikers, eventually taking Trevor from Justine.
That was the bastard's first mistake.
The second was letting Justine inside, because Justine isn't going to loose the man she loves. Neither her own personal hell nor twisted visions of her Nana will keep her from Trevor. Justine brings the fight to the darkness, and in the process learns the connection between the evil in the chasm, a boy's soul trapped there, and her own abilities.
Dastardly Bastard does not want for either action or creepiness, and Lorn manages to include plenty of both with unique verve. If that's all Dastardly Bastard did, it would be a good book. Lorn takes things farther, though, by writing characters so very human, so very fallible, that you can't help but connect to the human drama. Dastardly Bastard isn't good: it's very good. In fact, my only complaint is a nitpick that boils down to personal preference. In one pivotal scene, a monstrous amalgam of hikers is used as a weapon against two of the characters. In comparison to the horrifying nature of being confronted with their own bad memories, the amalgam-monster feels less intense, and therefore less compelling. My preference would have been to nix the amalgam-monster, and yet Lorn puts the incident to such good use, I'm inclined to point out, again, my nitpick says more about how I like to be scared than about any true weakness in the book itself. In fact, there's a laugh-out-loud mix up between "mouses" and "houses" that makes the amalgam-monster scene one of my favorite in the book. Go on, get the book - you know you want to know what in the world I'm talking about here!
Memory is a dastardly bastard, but it is also our connection to how we became who we are. Lorn examines the damage memories does, but the point of Dastardly Bastard is that no matter how bad a memory is, there are other, good memories from which we can draw strength. If you enjoy your adventure stories laced with darkness, then I recommend Edward Lorn's Dastardly Bastard.
You'll never see guided hiking trails the same again!