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The Walking Dead: Rise of the Governor, by Robert Kirkman, Jay Bonansinga

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Winner of the 2011 Diamond Gem Award for Trade Book of the Year

In the Walking Dead universe, there is no greater villain than The Governor. The despot who runs the walled-off town of Woodbury, he has his own sick sense of justice: whether it's forcing prisoners to battle zombies in an arena for the townspeople's amusement, or chopping off the appendages of those who cross him. The Governor was voted "Villain of the Year" by Wizard magazine the year he debuted, and his story arc was the most controversial in the history of the Walking Dead comic book series. Now, for the first time, fans of The Walking Dead will discover how The Governor became the man he is, and what drove him to such extremes.

• Sales Rank: #431301 in Books
• Brand: Other Manufacturer
• Published on: 2011-10-11
• Released on: 2011-10-11
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 9.50" h x 1.11" w x 6.37" l, 1.12 pounds
• Binding: Hardcover
• 320 pages

Review

“Zombie-apocalypse stories are perfect for miserable winter weather regardless, but for those obsessed with The Walking Dead (such as yours truly), this is essential reading. This is the epitome of a page-turner, and makes subway rides just breeze by. And, that end –woof.” ―REFINERY29

“An excellent companion to the The Walking Dead comic books. The story is enriched by the novel format, and the characterization of the series' most hated villain is something no fan will want to miss.” ―Examiner.com

“This book stands alone and is a compelling read for fans of the series or just fans of zombies. Watch out though, because once you get a taste of the particular Kirkman brand of zombie mayhem, catching up on past issues is just around the corner.” ―The Ossuary

“The story makes a great novel. You'll get sucked in and can easily visualize everything that is happening. It's simply a great read.” ―Comicvine.com

“It takes great advantage of the literary medium in a way that most tie-in books would not.” ―TVOverMind.com

“Not for the faint of heart, this book runs on pressure-cooker suspense, graphically described bloodshed, and dark acts of brutality...This riveting character study adds a new dimension to the oeuvre by fleshing out established characters and plot lines.” ―School Library Journal

About the Author

Robert Kirkman is best known for his work on The Walking Dead and Invincible for Image Comics and SKYBOUND. He is one of the five partners of Image Comics and is an executive producer and writer on AMC's critically acclaimed television series The Walking Dead.

Jay Bonansinga is a critically acclaimed horror novelist whose works include Perfect Victim, Shattered, Twisted, and Frozen. His debut novel, The Black Mariah, was a finalist for a Bram Stoker Award.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
ONE
 

It occurs to Brian Blake as he huddles in the musty darkness, the terror constricting his chest, the pain throbbing in his knees: If only he possessed a second pair of hands, he could cover his own ears, and maybe block out the noise of human heads being demolished. Sadly, the only hands Brian currently owns are busy right now, covering the tiny ears of a little girl in the closet next to him.
The seven-year-old keeps shuddering in his arms, jerking at the intermittent THWACK-GAHHHH-THUMP outside the closet. Then comes the silence, broken only by the sticky sound of boot steps on bloody tile, and a flurry of angry whispers out in the vestibule.
Brian starts coughing again. He can’t help it. For days he has been fighting this goddamn cold, a stubborn blight on his joints and sinuses that he cannot shake. It happens to him every fall, when the Georgia days start getting dank and gloomy. The dampness gets into his bones, saps his energy, and steals his breath. And now he feels the pounding stab of a fever with each cough.
Doubling over in another hacking, wheezing fit, he keeps his hands pressed down on little Penny’s ears as he coughs. He knows the sound of his rasping is attracting all kinds of attention outside the closet door, out in the convolutions of the house, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He sees tracings of light with each cough—like tiny filigrees of fireworks across his blind pupils.
The closet—barely four feet wide, and maybe three feet deep—is as dark as an inkwell, and it reeks of mothballs, mouse droppings, and old cedar. Plastic coat bags hang down in the darkness, brushing the sides of Brian’s face. Brian’s younger brother Philip told him it was okay to cough in the closet. In fact, Brian was free to cough his fucking head off—it would draw out the monsters—but Brian better not give his goddamn cold to Philip’s little girl. If he did, Philip would crack Brian’s head open.
The coughing fit passes.
Moments later, another pair of lumbering footsteps disturbs the silence outside the closet—another dead thing entering the kill zone. Brian squeezes his hands tighter against Penny’s ears, and the child flinches at another rendition of Skull Splitting in D minor.
If asked to describe the racket outside the closet, Brian Blake would probably revert to his days as a failed music store entrepreneur and tell you that the head-cracking sounds are like a percussive symphony they might play in hell—like some trippy outtake from Edgard Varèse or a druggy drum solo from John Bonham—with repeating verses and choruses: the heavy breathing of humans … the shambling footsteps of another moving corpse … the whistle of an axe … the thunk of steel sinking into flesh …
… and finally, the big finale, the splat of moist, dead weight on the slimy parquet.
Another break in the action sends fever chills down Brian’s spine. The silence closes in again. Eyes now adjusted to the darkness, Brian sees the first shimmer of thick arterial blood seeping under the bottom of the door. It looks like motor oil. He gently yanks his niece away from the spreading puddle, pulling her back against the boots and umbrellas along the back wall.
The hem of Penny Blake’s little denim dress touches the blood. She quickly pulls the fabric away, and frantically rubs at the stain, as if the very absorption of the blood will infect her somehow.
Another convulsive coughing fit doubles Brian over. He fights it. He swallows the broken glass of a sore throat and pulls the little girl into a full-on embrace. He doesn’t know what to do or say. He wants to help his niece. He wants to whisper something reassuring to her but cannot think of a single reassuring thing to whisper.
The girl’s father would know what to say. Philip would know. He always knows what to say. Philip Blake is the guy who says the things that everybody else wishes they had said. He says what needs to be said, and he does what needs to be done. Like right now. He’s out there with Bobby and Nick, doing what needs to be done … while Brian hunkers here in the dark like a scared rabbit, wishing he knew what to say to his niece.
Considering the fact that Brian Blake is the oldest of the two siblings, it’s odd how Brian has always been the runt. Barely five feet seven in his boot heels, Brian Blake is a raw-boned scarecrow of a man scarcely able to fill out his black peg-leg jeans and torn Weezer T-shirt. A mousey goatee, macramé bracelets, and a thatch of dark Ichabod Crane hair complete the picture of a thirty-five-year-old Bohemian waif stuck in Peter Pan limbo, now kneeling in the mothball-scented gloom.
Brian sucks in a hoarse breath and looks down at the doe-eyed Penny, her mute, horrified face ghostly in the darkness of the closet. The child has always been a quiet little girl, with an almost porcelain complexion, like that of a china doll, which has given her face a rather ethereal cast. But since her mother’s death she has turned even further inward, becoming more wan and stoic, to the point of appearing almost translucent, with tendrils of raven-black hair obscuring her huge eyes.
For the last three days, she has hardly said a word. Of course, they have been three extraordinary days—and trauma works differently on children than it does on adults—but Brian is worried that Penny is perhaps slipping into some kind of shock.
“It’s gonna be okay, kiddo,” Brian whispers to her with a lame little cough as punctuation.
She says something without looking up at him. She mumbles it, staring down at the floor, a tear pearling on her dirty cheek.
“What was that, Pen?” Brian cradles her against him and wipes her tear.
She says something again, and again, and again, but not exactly to Brian. She says it more like a mantra, or a prayer, or an incantation: “It’s never-ever going to be okay, never-ever-ever-ever-ever.”
“Sshhhhh.” He holds her head, pressing it gently against the folds of his T-shirt. He feels the damp heat of her face against his ribs. He covers her ears again as he hears the THWACK of another axe blade outside the closet, smashing through the membrane of a scalp, into the hard shell of a skull, through the layers of dura, and into the pulpy gray gelatin of an occipital lobe.
It makes a smacking noise like a baseball bat hitting a wet softball—the ejaculate of blood like a mop head slapping the floor—followed by a ghastly, wet thud. Oddly, that’s the worst part for Brian: that hollow, moist thump of a body landing on expensive ceramic tile. The tile is custom made for the house, with elaborate inlay and Aztec designs. It’s a lovely house … or at least, it once was.
Again the noises cease.
Again the horrible dripping silence follows. Brian stifles a cough, holding it in like a firecracker that’s about to pop, so he can better hear the minute changes in breathing outside the closet, the greasy footsteps shuffling through gore. But the place is dead silent now.
Brian feels the child seize up next to him—little Penny girding herself for another salvo of axe blows—but the silence stretches.
Inches away, the sound of a bolt clicking, and the closet doorknob turning, rashes Brian’s body with gooseflesh. The door swings open.
“Okay, we’re good.” The baritone voice, whiskey-cured and smoky, comes from a man peering down into the recesses of the closet. Eyes blinking at the darkness, face shimmering with sweat, flush with the exertion of zombie disposal, Philip Blake holds a grue-slick axe in his workman’s hand.
“You sure?” Brian utters.
Ignoring his brother, Philip gazes down at his daughter. “Everything’s okay, punkin, Daddy’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” Brian says with a cough.
Philip looks at his brother. “You mind covering your mouth, sport?”
Brian wheezes, “You sure it’s clear?”
“Punkin?” Philip Blake addresses his daughter tenderly, his faint Southern drawl belying the bright, feral embers of violence just now fading in his eyes. “I’m gonna need y’all to stay right there for a minute. Awright? You stay right there until Daddy says it’s okay to come out. You understand?”
With a slight nod, the pale little girl gives him a feeble gesture of understanding.
“C’mon, sport,” Philip urges his older brother out of the shadows. “Gonna need your help with the cleanup.”
Brian struggles to his feet, pushing his way through the hanging overcoats.
He emerges from the closet and blinks at the harsh light of the vestibule. He stares and coughs and stares some more. For a brief moment, it looks as though the lavish entryway of the two-story Colonial, brightly lit by fancy copper chandeliers, is in the throes of being redecorated by a work crew afflicted by palsy. Great swaths of eggplant-purple spatters stain the teal green plaster walls. Rorschach patterns of black and crimson adorn the baseboards and moldings. Then the shapes on the floor register.
Six bodies lie akimbo in bloody heaps. Ages and genders are obscured by the wet carnage, the mottled, livid skin tones, and the misshapen skulls. The largest lies in a spreading pool of bile at the foot of the great circular staircase. Another one, perhaps the lady of the house, perhaps once a convivial hostess offering peach cobbler and Southern hospitality, is now splayed across the lovely white parquet floor in a contorted mess, a stringer of wormy gray matter flagging from her breached cranium.
Brian Blake feels his gorge rising, his throat involuntarily dilating.
“Okay, gentlemen, we got our work cut out for us,” Philip is saying, addressing his tw...

Most helpful customer reviews

136 of 158 people found the following review helpful.
An Inspired Idea About An Exceptional Character--A Engaging Read That Breaks Little New Ground
By K. Harris
The inevitable expansion of "The Walking Dead" universe continues, and I suppose it was only a matter of time before the series ventured into the realm of novelization. Having been a huge Dead fan since the first graphic novels, I have watched the enterprise turn into an outright phenomenon. Having reviewed every other incarnation of the franchise (all of the graphic novels, collectibles, and AMC's television production), I jumped at the chance to pick up this collaboration by series creator Robert Kirkman and tidy horror writer Jay Bonansinga. "The Walking Dead: Rise of the Governor" is an inspired idea for a novel. The Governor is one of the series' most notorious and loathsome villains--and the notion of exploring his back story will undoubtedly be appealing to fans of his dark power.

Well, it turns out that the Governor may not be as different as you might imagine. In many ways, this tale is a familiar survival story. Beginning in the first days of the zombie outbreak, the narrative follows the trials and tribulations of a small band of ragged survivors (including the man who will become The Governor, his brother, lifelong friends, and a little girl). As expected, we see the collective attempt to understand the new world order. Trying to exist in a suburban community, followed by a stint in the city, followed by isolationism--the band tries various strategies to build a new life. Every time peace seems to settle, the real world comes crashing down in the form of a new undead or even human menace. At what point does someone meet their rational limit? The novel takes us on the journey of The Governor until he reaches exactly that spot and then pushes to the other side. The final two chapters, especially, bring everything together in quite momentous ways.

It might be a bit misleading calling this "The Rise of the Governor" (a more apt title might have been The Birth of the Governor). The book ends where you might expect if you are a fan of the series (with a few familiar characters)--but it is really only the starting point of a new chapter. In truth, this version of The Walking Dead saga doesn't break any new ground dramatically or thematically. Reliant on action set pieces, the book feels eminently cinematic. In reading the adventure, you can almost visualize the action as it takes place. It's solidly constructed, easy to read, and fast paced. I read the book in one day which is something that I almost never do. Ultimately, though, I had hoped for something a little less expected and unique to such a colorful character. The book is easy to like. I just wanted to be blown away by a fresh and original story and I feel that I've traveled these roads many times in other zombie lore. There is a bit of fun paralleling the locales and challenges of the Governor's crew with the original protagonists of the graphic novels. But you don't have to be a fervent fan to enjoy this solid novel. This can definitely work as a stand alone piece but it has more impact, however, if you actually know who the Governor is! A good and fun effort that, ultimately, doesn't add a huge new dimension to the ongoing saga. KGHarris, 8/11

120 of 152 people found the following review helpful.
Great concept, poor execution...
By Warren Peace
I enjoy the Walking Dead franchise and have enjoyed other zombie apocalypse novels so I thought this has to be no-brainer for me to read. Instead it turned out to be a no-brainer... period. Even being a fan of WD I found this book painful. I can generally overlook a few mistakes assuming I can get into and follow an interesting plot line. But the mistakes were so many that I just couldn't get past them.

Firstly, the writing was awkward. It used a third-person, present tense that was difficult to read. The kind of tense that a middle-school student might use in their first attempt at fiction. The author, presumably an established horror writer, seemed to get stuck using the same expressions over and over. "Thunderstruck" was something that every character seemed to be at some point. How many times did the characters feel "gravitational forces suck" them back or forward in the car. Really? It's called inertia, even if you are trying to be poetic how many times can you use the same expression? The over-use of metaphor and simile were more than a little annoying, again reminding me of a juvenile author's first attempts.

Secondly, the characters were two-dimensional. I couldn't empathize with a single one of them. The humanity of the characters (at least the human ones) in the WD series is what makes it so compelling and enjoyable. It's not just about monsters, it's how people interact and deal with the cards they have been dealt. This story missed the mark. I understand this was supposed about the characters losing their humanity but they should have first started with some.

Finally, the facts, or lack thereof, were impossible to overlook. I will not get into all the problems in the story, the "Ford S-10" has already been mentioned in other reviews. As has the "high powered rifle/20 gauge shotgun" and the .22 caliber pistol that blows heads clean off. And using a radiator hose to siphon gas? Has the author ever tried this? I am willing to guess the answer is no. And I have boxes of cereal that have been in my pantry for longer than 6 weeks and they aren't crawling with worms quite yet.

Overall, I have to say that I was "thunderstuck" by the poor job on this one. It seemed as if it might have been rushed to press to capitalize on the Walking Dead franchise as quickly as possible. With little attention given to quality. It's as if the publisher was saying.. "it won't matter, people will love it anyway, lets just churn something out and grab the cash". Sadly, perhaps they were correct given the number of 5 star reviews. One reviewer wrote "I haven't read it yet but I am giving it 5 stars!" ????

I give it one star out of respect to Bob Kirkman (and because that's the minimum)... but please don't don't make this kind of writing the new status-quo. And please hire a good editor for the next installment.

22 of 26 people found the following review helpful.
Best for Diehard Walking Dead Fans
By Saul X. Burroughs
(Warning: Possible Spoilers for the upcoming Television Season as well as for those who have not yet read the graphic novels but intend to.)

For those not in the know, `The Governor' is one of the primary villains in The Walking Dead universe. (He is set to make his grand entrance later this year when Season Three launches, more info here: [...] ). The man is a vile, misogynistic psychopath who thrives on terror, torture, and rape. He rules a small, barricaded enclave of humanity through psychological manipulation and heinous acts of violence. The hero of The Walking Dead, Rick Grimes, and his motley crew have the severe misfortune of crossing paths with The Governor and his like-minded cronies fairly early in the graphic novels. The ultimate outcome, which I won't ruin here, is as naturally chaotic and destructive as the world around them.

The Rise of the Governor (RotG) tells the back story of Phillip Blake, the man who eventually become The Governor, and his small band as they try to survive the early stages of `The Event': whatever it was that caused the dead to rise and begin making unhappy meals out of the breathing populace. On some levels it succeeds, but when it fails it truly comes up short.

Taking the work out of context, reading it simply as another post-apocalyptic novel and not part of a larger tapestry, its tragic flaw is a slow opening. Yes, zombies pop out of the shadows at every turn and Phillip Blake and his friends narrowly dispatch them in gruesome fashion. It's a zombie novel; that is par for the course. You can almost feel it coming: `been a few pages now, time for some more undead head bashing'.

By slow opening, I speak in terms of character arc. Phillip Blake himself never really rises above the shallow, narrowly defined persona of an inherently bad man whose sole saving grace is his love for his daughter. His brother Brian, a weak willed Bohemian, spends most of the novel as a cowering nursemaid to his niece Penny and when he finally does come unto his own it feels unnatural and forced. Nick, a family friend, is vaguely religious but this, too, seems like a wooden attribute that is meant to further the story instead of being a natural and real aspect of character that the story molds itself around. And these are the good characters, the ones that feel like they have some sort of meat on their literary bones. Everyone else is forgettable, the equivalent of red shirts from the Star Trek mythos. Someone has to get eaten, right?

So, judging RotG on its own merits, the book is merely adequate. Furthermore I found the use of present tense ("Brian sees a cloud of smoke in the distance and instantly feels tense," for example) an odd and distracting device used to tell the tale. I think the authors were attempting a sense of tension with this mechanism, and to their credit sometimes it worked. For the most part though it was like watching a movie from Britain or Australia: it takes a while to get used to the accent and you're pissed that you have to expend the effort instead of just getting to enjoy the flick.

RotG is not, however, an isolated island as any true zombie fan knows. For Walking Dead Heads such as myself, I hesitantly recommend it. In its favor: it is a quick read. As just an out-of-my-ass guestimate I would put it at about a 10th grade reading level.

Some bones are thrown out for those of us who have read all the previous source material. Ever wonder who put up that sign on that gated community Rick and co. stumble across that read "All Dead Inside"? Well, now you'll get to find out. Curious as to how Penny got to her current state? Explained.

Yet the biggest question, the fulcrum upon which the whole work is set: "Who is The Governor and how did he come to be?" will leave you either pleased or non plussed. Personally, I found the answer to that question, as given in RotG, serviceable if a bit predictable. Then again, I read and write a lot more than most people. It's hard to surprise me. As with all art, your experience may vary.

If you count yourself among the legions of diehard fans of `The Walking Dead', this book will offer a moderately pleasing inside look into one of the arch-villains Rick Grimes has to compete against for survival. If you are searching for a stand-alone zombie novel, keep looking. Like the devastated world in which it is set, very little life to be found here.

7.5/10 Stars if you are a fan of `The Walking Dead', 5.5 if not.

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