Like all great giant monster stories, the latest novel by Edward J. McFadden III begins with a big bang and ends with a big question mark. It’s a terrific book in many ways.  

But between the book’s prologue and coda, the author sidesteps numerous opportunities to escalate his post-apocalyptic narrative to an insane Mad Max level. That’s too bad.  

Here’s how it all starts: An explosion at a bio lab turns Staten Island into a war zone pitting local citizens against colossal mutant crickets. Over night, the “Crics” morph into Godzilla-size insects with ravenous appetites. Needless to say, it’s a dire situation with little-or-no chance for survival. 

Within hours, Long Island falls into total disarray with emergency services stretched to the breaking point. Everyone is afraid the Crics will spread to other New York City boroughs and they want the government to drop a Black Flag insecticide bomb on the area. Instead, officials quickly lock down the island—no one allowed in or out. 

McFadden’s story follows newlyweds Scott and Jenni Ward as they struggle to survive and escape the dangerous quarantined zone. During their journey, the pair encounter a riot of monsters and crazy survivalists. 

At this point, I wanted Crics to succumb to its doomsday genre—a genre that I love dearly. Did I get what I wanted? Yes, but not exactly. 

Scott’s first encounter in the cricket wasteland is with a neighborhood vigilante carrying an AR-15 and dressed in a motorcycle jacket, gloves, crash helmet and hip waders. The lone “bug soldier” doesn’t stick around very long because the Crics descend on him like ants on a fallen lollipop. 

Next, Bill the Bugman appears in his super tight apocalypse van. I was hoping that Bill would be a Road Warrior-like marauder—like the nutjob with the red mohawk in Mad Max 2. But in a twist, the Bugman turns out to be a decent guy trying his best to save his family and his neighborhood. 

Before the final showdown with the Godzilla-Cric queen (which is awesome btw), Scott, Jenni and the Bugman’s crew tangle with a New Barbarians-like motorcycle gang and a desperate horde of suburban outlaws. Naturally, casualties pile up quickly. 

Throughout the novel, McFadden dutifully touches upon issues of morality, civility, privilege and groupthink. Good on him. But honestly I would have preferred a gonzo version of Lord of the Flies with monsters, grotesque anti-heroes and a dollop of bizarro fiction absurdity. 

Like I said earlier, Crics ends with a big question mark: do the giant crickets make it off Staten Island? If they do, I’m hoping the sequel will feature a freaky phalanx of Mad Max road warriors trying their best to make sense of their new post-apocalyptic world.    

[ Crics / By Edward J. McFadden III / First Printing: April 2024 / ISBN: 9781923165127 ]