THE CENTURY'S BEST HORROR FICTION #76: A review of "It Only Comes Out at Night" by Dennis Etchison

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Dennis Etchison is, thematically, version 2.0 of Richard Matheson. That’s not to say that he’s ripping Matheson off. His mind just tends to go in the same direction, that’s all. He completely owns his own subject matter and makes it his own. He is an absolute master of taking seemingly ordinary things and making them completely sinister. Usually, by the end of the story, the horror has been ratcheted up beyond all reason.



This story is no exception. McClay and Evvie are taking a cross-country trip, presumably on vacation, as they routinely stay in motel rooms. However, unlike most people, they decide to drive at night and sleep during the day. As you can surmise, this turns out to be a major tactical error.


It seems that nothing happens for 90% of the story, but that’s Etchison’s genius. While you think you’re reading about the unusual circumstances of your average joe on a road trip, he’s really turning the knob on the oven, working at slowly boiling you alive. By the time you notice, it’s too late; you’re a lobster in his pot.


McClay is tired, and he doesn’t know if he can make it to the next motel, so he pulls off into a rest stop. Evvie gets out and wanders around a bit, and after a while, McClay decides to do the same. By the time he gets back to his car, he sees Evvie is a slumbering lump under a blanket in the back seat, so he takes off, hoping to make it to a place they can sleep.


He thinks he might have missed the exit or something, because a while later, he just can’t find the motel they need. Even worse, he’s starting to nod off at the wheel. After some deliberation, he decides to go back to the rest stop, where he knows he can catch a few Z’s. The problem is, when he parks there and rolls up his jacket for a pillow, he just can’t get to sleep. He’s wide awake, in fact. So he goes for a stroll, and on his way back, he notices something unusual.


None of the other cars around here seem to have people in them. They are covered with grime and, strangest of all, they have a bunch of moths covering them. Finally, when he gains enough courage to wipe some of the dust away from the window of one car, he discovers a corpse in the back seat.


SPOILER ALERT: Naturally, this gets his mind wondering, and he didn’t really SEE Evvie in the back seat of his own car. She hasn’t moved or made any sound since their first trip to the rest stop. What if . . . ? He rushes to his car, and though Etchison doesn’t come out and say what happens next, it is very obvious that Evvie is dead and has been for most of the story. END OF SPOILERS.


This is probably one of the starkest stories in this book (this image is supported by how he describes the world lit by the kliegs in the parking lot). There is very little flourish to the style; in fact, it’s pretty cold and hard, much like, well, Richard Stark’s work. As effective as this tale is, it’s actually one of his weaker works. (If you can imagine that.) If you’re unfamiliar with this and the rest, start looking into Etchison right away.


[This story first appeared in FRIGHTS and cannot be read online at this time.]