Chris Dungey’s Evacuation Route is a gritty, wry, and deeply human novel that follows two aging brothers—Walt and Warren Bocewicz—as they navigate the final days of their failing family pharmacy in Jacksonville, Florida. It’s a story about endings—of businesses, dreams, and illusions—and what happens when the past won’t let go, and the future doesn’t offer much to hold on to. Through dry humor, raw reflection, and vivid detail, Dungey explores themes of addiction, redemption, brotherhood, and the small moments of absurdity that stitch together a life on the edge of collapse.

What struck me first was the voice. It’s sardonic, bruised, but weirdly comforting. Dungey lets Walt speak in a way that’s both poetic and foul-mouthed, like someone who’s done a lot of time—both literal and emotional. One line that stuck with me was when Walt refers to his stash of leftover pills as a “golden parachute of brake fluid.” The metaphor is funny and heartbreaking. He’s not planning to get high. He’s planning to coast. The way Walt scavenges leftover meds and rations them like wartime chocolate speaks volumes about the quiet desperation of a man trying to stay clean but not above cutting corners. Dungey doesn’t excuse Walt’s thievery; he frames it in a larger commentary about survival in a system that’s left men like him behind.

Another highlight is the dynamic between the brothers. Warren, the straight-laced pharmacist with a taste for community theater, and Walt, the wayward ex-con with a flair for ten-dollar words and sketchy ethics, are an unlikely but believable duo. Their exchanges are loaded with decades of resentment and love. When Barren finally tells Walt about the $1.4 million offer for the building, it feels like a plot twist in a family saga more than a financial windfall​. There’s no cheering. Walt doesn’t jump for joy. He thinks about how much of the haul is his, about the unpaid debts, about the cat. This is a book that constantly dodges the easy emotion. It doesn’t go for the melodrama. It sits you down and lets the disappointment breathe.

But the book isn’t just grim. There’s an undercurrent of dark comedy that really works. I laughed when Walt muses about the $5 thesaurus in the jail library or worries about cultural appropriation while driving his “urban classic” Cadillac through the wrong neighborhood​. That moment—equal parts cringe and candor—captures the uneasy blend of shame and swagger that defines Walt’s character. Dungey has a gift for these moments.

Evacuation Route is a slow burn, a bit messy, and it rarely gives the reader a clean moral center to hold onto. But if you’ve ever known someone who’s screwed up everything, who’s just trying to make it through the next day without screwing up more—this novel might hit you in the chest. Dungey’s writing doesn’t flinch. It’s tired, it’s bitter, and it’s weirdly beautiful. I’d recommend it to readers who love character-driven stories, gritty Southern settings, or fiction that explores addiction and redemption without preaching.

Pages: 585 | ASIN : B0DY5P6824