FEVER HOUSE

All hell breaks loose in Portland, Oregon, when a pair of thugs stumble into a world-breaking government conspiracy.

Grungy fantasist Rosson pivots to full-on apocalyptic horror but takes his time with talky, crime-heavy character arcs interspersed with 1970s-era conspiracy vibes and a compassionate family drama to boot. Hutch Holtz has a good heart, but he looks like 10 miles of bad road after a scrap with some bikers a while back. Hutch and his pal Tim Reed are stuck doing collections for small-time hood Peach Serrano, but things get weird when they roll a junkie client and find, in his freezer, a withered, supernatural hand that triggers madness, self-mutilation, and worse in those it infects. Through interstitial reports and slow-burn introductions, the inevitable black ops agency, here dubbed ARC, joins the search for the hand and reveals itself to be in possession of an honest-to-God angel with inexplicable powers. To the detriment of “Saint Michael,” the agency’s director, David Lundy, delights in torturing and mutilating his captive despite profiting from the being’s visions. Meanwhile, the book’s Mulder and Scully emerge when hyperambitious field agent Samantha Weils finds herself saddled with John Bonner, a disgraced undercover agent with political coverage. Down at street level, a nice circular narrative arises when Hutch passes the devil’s hand to Serrano’s long-suffering lieutenant, Nick Coffin. Nick’s grit belies his deep compassion for his mother, Katherine Moriarty, a former rock star whose marriage to Nick’s father, Matthew, ended in his suicide and locked her into crippling agoraphobia. Not only were there reasons behind all her suffering, it turns out, but Katherine’s most famous song could portend the end of the world. The mythology is a bit overstuffed, à la John Wick, but Rosson wields the tropes and trappings of horror nimbly, balancing nicely between familial devotion, big-screen apocalyptic visions, and full-throated splatterpunk.

Angels and ministers of grace don't have a chance in hell against this nasty, fun-to-read indulgence.