Robert Jeschonek (writing as Jason Koenig) is an award-winning, USA Today bestselling author whose action-packed, envelope-pushing fiction has made waves around the world. His stories have appeared in Clarkesworld, Galaxy's Edge, Escape Pod, Pulphouse, and many other publications. He has also written official Star Trek and Doctor Who fiction and comics tales for AHOY and DC Comics.

Backtracker by Jason Koenig

Meet the ultimate serial killer. The Miraclemaker comes and goes like a ghost in the night, taking lives by the score as if he were Death himself. The streets run red with the blood of his victims. Only one man knows he exists, one man who loses everyone he ever cared about, one by one, to the hands of the killer. This man, Dave Heinrich, sets out on a desperate hunt to stop the Miraclemaker at any cost. But does Dave stand a chance against a murderer who just might have a connection to terrifyingly dark and powerful supernatural forces? A murderer whose deepest secret could rock Dave's world to its very foundations? Bodies pile up...time runs out...and the mystery of the Backtracker is about to unleash the ultimate evil and bring about a blood-drenched hell on Earth.

 

REVIEWS

  • "Wow. This book. What an experience. It's a long one with a long journey. But it kept me enthralled the whole time. This author really gives detail to where the reader feels like they are physically in the story itself. This story had me guessing left and right. Who was the killer? Who was the victim? What was really going on? This is a murder rampage mystery unlike any other. And when I say it's an experience, I mean it. I didn't mind that it was long. I felt like that helped me as the reader really feel every word. And that ending! I didn't see that coming. I love a book that keeps me guessing. And it's open for me. I would like to know more. To see how the future spans out for these characters. I am not giving details on purpose. Each moment of this book is a surprise and I am not going to spoil any of it. This narrator had the perfect voice for the feel of this novel. Overall it's a great thriller that will throw you on a wild ride to figure out what's real and what's something else entirely."

    – Mary Dean

  • "There are lies, half-truths, and downright mythic tales that come from the killer, and I am left at the end not really sure who or what to believe. And that, my friends, is the mark of a good storyteller! While psychological thrillers are not my usual drug of choice when it comes to my fiction, I will definitely be seeking out further novels by Jason Koenig."

    – HR Duby, Romance Authors That Rock

  • "Suspense...with a Capital "S"!"

    – The Wanderer
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Chapter 1

For a split-second, he tasted cool air and opened his eyes to look around. Then, he hit the water with a sudden, violent force, and could no longer breathe.

As he sank, the water rushed into him, flooding his lungs, freezing him from the inside as well as the outside. Stunned and numb, he dropped further into the icy reaches, propelled by the momentum of his fall. Down, down he plunged, a senseless, dead weight, stars flashing behind the lids of his eyes, blooming and winking like holiday fireworks.

Then, instinctively, desperately, he flung away the shock, heaved it off like a blanket, and he realized what was happening.

He was drowning! For God's sake, he was drowning!

With renewed awareness, he fought the water, flailed and kicked and twisted wildly. Still sinking, he writhed and pedaled, battered at the frigid envelope, struggling to end his descent. He couldn't let it stop him; there was so much to do.

Though his limbs were numb and his lungs burned, and the fireworks on his eyelids blazed more brilliantly than ever, he surged with strength at the thought of his mission. Thrashing his legs against gravity, he felt himself slowing, felt the speed of his fall diminish. He continued to kick at the water, and finally felt himself stop, and then he opened his eyes and looked up.

Above him, there wasn't anything but blackness.

How far down was he? How many feet had he sunk?

Closing his eyes then, he started for the surface, trying to think only of what he had to do, not how far he had to swim. He chopped his hands and feet through the water, pushed against it with all his might. Propelling himself upward, he focused on his dream, climbed toward the open air with all the force of will with which he'd pressed toward his dream's fruition.

He had to survive, had to get there, had to do it. Everything depended on this moment.

He wondered how far he was from the surface. He'd been swimming for so long, and he still wasn't there yet. How far...how far?

A sharp tingling sparked over his body, and he felt himself weaken, begin to succumb. Squinting upward, he saw only more blackness, a mercilessly dark infinity.

He was drowning! He was going to die.

It wasn't fair. He'd come so far.

He gave himself a final push, a last, angry jolt, and cursed the world for the millionth time. After all it had done to him, how dare it rob him of his last chance?

And then, he couldn't kick any more.

Full of rage, a hurricane rage, he stopped swimming.

Miraculously, he felt himself breaking the surface.

Shooting his head up and back, he choked, spat water from his lungs, gulped at the air. He slipped under again, but wouldn't let it grab him this time, instead kicked and swept his arms so that he could regain the surface. Bolting his head upward once more, he coughed up water, gagged and spat and actually took in some air.

Snapping his eyes open, he gaped at what lay around him. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight to see the rippling surface of the lake, the tree-lined silhouette of the shore.

The shore was a long way off.

Still kicking and sweeping at the water, he managed to slowly turn around. Watching the shoreline, he saw it fold away in the distance, curl along the length of the lake. Turning, he followed the curve of the shore, watched it reach a final, far extension and roll back toward him. That tree-lined rim flexed away into a wide cove, then angled sharply inward, protruding into the lake before it swept off toward a distant dam. When he'd finished his rotation, he realized that the protrusion was the closest point to where he floated, and he started to swim toward it.

Though it was the closest point, it was still far away, and would take him a long time to reach. He was bolstered, however, strengthened with fresh, flaming resolve; he'd blown himself back from the brink of death, and he had so much to do, and he couldn't give up.

Freezing, aching, gagging, he dragged himself across the lake with long, painful strokes of his arms. As he crawled toward the shore, he felt jubilant, thrilled to have survived this latest misfortune.

And he felt excited, full of anticipation for his coming venture.

He reviewed his plans, all the places he had to visit...

...all the things he had to do...

...all the people he had to kill.