When I spoke recently with Zac Thompson, he had heaps to say about Cemetery Kids Run Rabid. Like, how it was meant to be meaner and scarier than Cemetery Kids Don’t Die. Or, how Wilson would be the perspective character after Birdie, and what that shift might offer. Even that casual drug use would be a vital part of the Cemetery Kids’ continued story.
But the biggest reveal was the timeline of events. Where Oni Press wanted a more direct continuation, Cemetery Kids Run Rabid takes place some time after the gang rescues Pik from Nightmare Cemetery. And it turns out that extra time isn’t just good for mere story logic, but that kind of decision-making makes Cemetery Kids Run Rabid so much more than a mere sequel.
That process actually begins with the visuals, as artist Daniel Irizarri (alongside colorist Brittany Peer) fully step up to connect Cemetery Kids Run Rabid with its sibling while making it something new entirely. There’s a kind of obvious focus and clarity, as if the art team really went for more of a high budget feel over the indie vibes of the original story. It just elevates an already compelling near-future, where the techno-organic achievements of a not-to-distant Toronto feel bright and shiny, which is then undercut by extra detailed, doubly confrontational horror and also these displays of sharp, compelling humanity.
Main cover by Daniel Irizarri. Courtesy of Oni Press.
Thematically speaking, that dynamic just makes sense — Cemetery Kids is a story about what’s real and not (and if we can ever tell the difference), and this newfound sheen just feels like it brings the emotionality and the horror home like never before. Everything is both more alive and in focus, and we’re moving into this kind of uncanny valley of sorts where the reader can’t help but be affected.
The artistic feats continue elsewhere, albeit in smaller but equally as mighty displays. The Cemetery Kids’ avatars, for instance, have more interplay between their video game and their actual selves; it’s a wonderfully meta bit that furthers augments our immersion and toggles our own sensibilities. We get to see more out-of-game boards/screens and technology, and these manage to 1) further a really solid biopunk feel that makes this whole world ever more realized and 2) display the sheer depths of this game and the hold it has on this story’s people and universe.
Even the game world (an abandoned mall so far) is both utterly real and speckled with just enough terrors to make you second guess where we are and who is shaping these places (and why). They’re seemingly little touches, but the visuals do so much to push Cemetery Kids Run Rabid in a familiar direction but one that’s decidedly more unflinching and textured.
Courtesy of Oni Press.
The same mostly holds true for the narrative aspects of this latest series — even as there’s some aspects I’m a little uncertain of so far. Perhaps the biggest one is Maddy, a new player who seemingly fills in for Enid (who early in Cemetery Kids Don’t Die mostly bailed on the game). I think Maddy will be interesting enough — she’s got some real chutzpah to her, and she’s willing to get into scraps in and out of the game.
The only issue, then, is an enthusiastic enabler like Maddy doesn’t seem quite as necessary given that everyone else is pretty much running back to the game hung-ho. (Even Wilson, who can’t play anymore after Cemetery Kids Don’t Die, finds a way back in another solid, decidedly meta-tinged device.) Rather, I liked Enid because she said no, and that tension seems like it would prove more vital in this latest chapter. Plus, she had history with the others, and Maddy’s newness just makes me feel irked as the first book established such a compelling and nuanced group dynamic.
Still, the Maddy stuff isn’t as big of an issue so far, and there’s some great character development across the rest of Cemetery Kids Run Rabid. As mentioned, Wilson is the perspective character here, and I think that’s the absolute best move. As the kid who can’t really play (but can still guide the team in a way), he feels uniquely positioned to foster this book’s ongoing themes (i.e., the disintegration between the real and the fictional, living online and its corresponding existential queries, how we socialize via technology, etc.)
Courtesy of Oni Press.
Plus, given his ongoing issues, Wilson also has some larger trauma to slowly work through, and given that he’s also this wonderful, loyal kid, I’ve already quite enjoyed seeing this part of the world through the mind of a great kid in a bizarre situation (bizarre even for this story universe).
At the same time, there is at least a part of me that misses Birdie as the POV character. Her unique bond with her brother, and continued issues with her own disability, just made Birdie feel really textured and engaging. Luckily, the creative team preserve her uniqueness when it comes to the “Pik Problem.” It’s really the question at the heart of Cemetery Kids Run Rabid: Is Pik really back, or is this someone/something else entirely? This first issue answers that pretty solidly (and with a character design/inclusion that is among the most gross and badass across all of Cemetery Kids).
Everyone had their own takes on Pik, but without revealing too much, Birdie has a unique perspective on her brother’s “condition.” It’s one that plays really well into the book’s core theme of questioning your own perceptions, and deciding what you think is real or not. (Plus, it’s rather tragic in a way, and that adds to the story’s emotionality.) So it promotes added tension but also keeps Birdie feeling fresh and vital to this story — yet again the book is respecting what made it compelling even as it’s pushing forward with new grit and fangs.
Courtesy of Oni Press.
And speaking of the whole “Pik Problem,” that deserves a few added moments of reflection. Because, yes, it’s an obvious way into this second chapter of Cemetery Kids, and we need that “in” to be just basic enough to foster that sense of continuation that’s been “denied” thanks to a leap forward. At the same time, and again without revealing too much about how all that plays out across issue #1, it’s not nearly as hokey as you’d expect. (Myself, I’d actually feared something cheesy and obvious like a bad Body Snatchers rip-off.)
But it’s a thread that also impacts Pik himself, and the ending of #1 hints at a pain and uncertainty that makes it clear that all of the Cemetery Kids are being devastated physically and emotionally by this big question. That this truly is the overt torture Thompson spoke of, and while he’s not killing his darlings just yet, that doesn’t mean they’re safe. Pik, especially, is in an agonizing position here, and that’s proof of the wonderfully unpredictable, all-consuming nature of this latest chapter.
Courtesy of Oni Press.
And that, boys and ghouls, is what really makes Cemetery Kids Run Rabid both a great sequel and so much more still. That the pain and anguish here, as well as the larger thematic interests, are deep-seated, unpredictable, and unwavering through and through. The creative team truly are swinging for the fences — and the fences are the hearts and minds of their characters and readers alike. Nothing is safe, and if there’s joy and familiarity here, it’s only a device to poke us in the brain and get us thinking about reality, perception, friendship/family, and how deep the rabbit hole truly goes.
Truly, a great start for any debut issue, and I’m excited to see just how much Cemetery Kids Run Rabid has in store for us. I’m sure it’ll be a neon-colored, biopunk nightmare that’ll leave us puking, crying, and begging for even more.
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