Unlike Jack Ketchum's earlier novel, LADIES NIGHT, his newest one, RIGHT TO LIFE, definitely has the shoe on the other foot as a pregnant woman becomes the victim of a deranged married couple that kidnap her right off the street and hold her captive for several months while she's forced to endure their bizarre SM games. The 139-page novella starts off with Sara Foster on her way to an abortion clinic to do away with the unwanted child that she's now carrying. Before Sara can even enter the clinic, she's grabbed and sedated by Stephen and Katherine Teach-a couple who's unable to have children-and taken to their home where she's held as a prisoner. The couple intends to hold Sara until the baby is born and then kill her. Stephen, however, has other plans for his beautiful captive as well. He's going to get the most out Sara's luscious body by using her to fulfill his own perverted desires. Forcing her to submit in whatever sexual manner he chooses, she's mentally and physically tortured on almost a daily basis. Even Stephen's wife decides to get in on the action by making the prisoner her sex slave when the hubby begins to lose interest after a few months have past. Sara instinctively knows that she has to find a way out before it's too late, but time is her worse enemy as she grows bigger and more powerless with her pregnancy. She also understands that if she does manage to escape, the couple may very well come after her. This leaves her with just one option-to kill them first! RIGHT TO LIFE will shock you to the core as it depicts one's person's attempt to survive unimaginable torture and humiliation in order to keep from being killed. Mr. Ketchum never pulls his punches with the violence and craziness. His prose is fast moving and creates stark images that are mind numbing. The reader is quickly carried into this dark world of depravity and made to realize that anyone can be a potential victim when least expected. The characters are well drawn, but it's the Techs that really steal the show. This is one psychotic couple you wouldn't want to have as next-door neighbors! All in all, RIGHT TO LIFE delivers in full form. Strong in sexual content, it's not for the faint-hearted or those with a queasy stomach. One final note, this edition also contains two extra short stories. The first is "Brave Girl" and it deals with a four-year-old child whose mother has fallen in the bathtub and is now unconscious. The second short story is "Returns" which is slightly different from the author's normal subject matter. It centers on the spirit of a recently deceased man who returns home to his hateful wife, hoping to stop her from killing his loving cat. These two short stories are a nice bonus for the fans of Jack Ketchum.
– Thomas Jefferson
– Robin Hitchcock and the Egyptians
New York City
June 8, 1998
10:20 a.m.
They drove to the clinic in silence.
The night before they'd said it all. Now there was nothing left to say.
It just remained to do it. Get it over with.
Morning rush hour traffic had ended over an hour ago and traffic was fairly light. The streets of the Upper West Side seemed strangely still and dreamlike, the blue-green Toyota van in front of them drifting from stoplight to stoplight like a guide taking them from nowhere to some other nowhere while they followed to no determinate end.
The silence turned him back in time to their bed last night in her apartment, making love through a haze of tears which came and went with the gentle anguished regularity of waves at low tide, their very heartbeats muted, the two of them drawn more closely together than they had ever imagined or wished possible in the grim sad knowledge that pleasure now was also pain and would remain so for a very long time. Her tears cooling on his cheek and mingling with his own, the musky smell of tears and then the feel of them falling to his chest as she sailed astride him like a ship on a windless sea and when it was finished, the long dark night embracing in warm attempted sleep.
Then stillness too through the loud morning rituals of water, razor and toothbrush, both he and Sara alone now in these things as they would ever be. Then coffee drunk in silence at the table, Greg reaching out to take her hand a moment across the polished pine to feel the warmth of her again, to bind them for a moment before walking out through the door into the cool bright morning air. To the morning errands of New Yorkers along 91st and West End Avenue, the cars and cabs and delivery trucks. And then down to the car parked deep in the cooler echoing basement garage next door, Greg driving them across to Broadway and then downtown. Bringing them forward along the wheel of time to this awful empty place. This quiet, this exhausted drift of feeling.
"Are you all right?" he said finally.
She nodded.
The clinic wasn't far. 68th and Broadway, only five blocks away. One of only three of them left open on the entire West Side from the Village to the Bronx.
"It's a girl," she said.
And it was that, he thought and not his question that truly broke the silence.
"How can you tell?"
"I just know. I remember the way Daniel felt, even at this stage. This feels… different."
He was aware of something thick and heavy inside him again. He'd heard the story many times in the six years he'd known her. Her perceptions of the thing varying slightly over time and distance and depth of understanding. Daniel, her son, dead in a frozen lake in upstate New York at the age of six. Even his body lost to her beneath the ice and never found.
If there was ever a woman he would have wished to have a child with, to have raised his child, especially a girl-child, it was this one.
His hands were sweating on the wheel.
Because of course it was impossible.
"Why don't you drop me off in front," she said. "Find a place to park. I'll go in and register. Less time waiting."
"Are you sure?"
"The front will be fine."
"What about those people with their goddamn picket lines. They'll probably be out again."
"They don't bother me. Except to piss me off. They'll let me by, don't worry."
He supposed that – no, she was not about to be intimidated. Last week going in for her examination there had been seven of them on the sidewalk by the entrance to the Jamaica Savings Bank, the building which housed the clinic and held its tenuous lease, seven men and women standing behind blue police barricades, carrying cardboard signs saying HE'S A CHILD, NOT A CHOICE and ABORTION IS LEGALIZED GENOCIDE and waving pamphlets and holding out tiny plastic twelve-week foetuses cupped in the palms of their hands.
One of them, a surprisingly handsome fortyish man, shoved his own little specimen at Sara's face and Sara turned on Greg's arm and said
