Darcy Coates’s How Bad Things Can Get is the sort of novel you open expecting a straightforward island thriller—and then discover yourself pulled into something darker, richer, and more unsettling than you bargained for. Reading it feels like being lulled into comfort by waves and bonfire smoke, only to realize too late that the tide is rising around your ankles and escape might already be impossible.
I approached this book not as someone who typically seeks out horror, but as a reader fascinated by how ordinary people survive extraordinary events. And in that respect, Coates did not disappoint.
First Impressions
The hook is irresistible: a high-profile influencer brings hundreds of fans to Prosperity Island for five days of games and indulgence. A paradise getaway, complete with perfect beaches and the buzz of exclusivity. Yet Coates wastes no time hinting that the island is more than it seems. Its beauty is tinged with menace, its history rotting beneath the palms.
At the center of it all is Ruth, the only survivor of a violent cult decades earlier. She has built her life on secrecy, on avoiding recognition, on surviving by disappearing into the background. When the events on the island stir echoes of her past, she cannot hide anymore.
This juxtaposition—the carnival atmosphere of the influencer event against Ruth’s quiet, haunted existence—creates a dissonance that fuels the tension beautifully.
Ruth: A Different Kind of Survivor
What I admired most is how Ruth is written. Too often in thrillers, survivors of past trauma are either portrayed as permanently broken or transformed into unstoppable avengers. Ruth is neither. She is tentative, observant, and deeply scarred—but her fragility does not negate her strength. Instead, it redefines it.
Watching her confront the island’s unraveling horrors felt less like cheering for a hero and more like quietly rooting for a neighbor, a cousin, a friend who has already endured more than she should. Coates imbues her with so much quiet humanity that every choice she makes—whether to trust, to hide, to fight—feels earned.
The secondary characters are a mix: some painted broadly, serving the function of victims, others granted moments of surprising depth. I did find myself wishing a few more had been fleshed out. The influencer figure, in particular, could have been explored with greater complexity. But Ruth’s arc is strong enough to hold the story.
Themes That Hit Home
As I read, I kept circling back to the book’s exploration of influence and belief.
- Cults and Communities: Ruth’s childhood in a cult is not just backstory; it becomes a lens through which the entire island event is refracted. The fans who follow an influencer onto an isolated island are not so different from people who once followed a charismatic leader into tragedy.
- The Need to Belong: Coates forces us to ask how far people will go to be part of something bigger—whether it’s faith, fame, or fantasy. That question lingers even after the novel ends.
- Escaping the Past: Ruth’s life raises the question: does trauma ever truly release us? The novel suggests it doesn’t, not completely—but that there is power in finally facing it head-on.
These themes gave the book more weight than a surface-level thriller. It’s not just about what lurks in the jungle, but about the darkness that thrives when people surrender their judgment for a sense of belonging.
The Reading Experience
As someone who values atmosphere over jump scares, I found Coates’s style in “How Bad Things Can Get” deeply effective. She does not lean on gore or shock. Instead, she builds unease in layers: the off-kilter conversations, the nervous glances, the too-quiet jungle.
The pacing works in three movements:
- Seduction: The opening lures you into the island’s beauty, mirroring the intoxication the guests feel.
- Unraveling: Disappearances and history collide, paranoia festers, and the party atmosphere curdles.
- Confrontation: The final act forces Ruth to step into the light, both literally and metaphorically, to face what she’s always run from.
If I had one critique, it’s that some of the tension resolves too neatly. I expected the ending to leave me with more uncertainty, more lingering shadows. But perhaps that is Coates’s choice: to let Ruth, at least, have a measure of closure.
What Worked Best
- Ruth as a protagonist who feels profoundly human, not idealized.
- The seamless blending of cult history with modern influencer culture.
- The island setting as both breathtaking and suffocating.
- The slow-burn dread that kept me turning pages long after I meant to sleep.
Where It Fell Short
- A few side characters felt like placeholders for horror tropes.
- Predictability in certain beats—seasoned thriller readers may see twists coming.
- A resolution that felt slightly too polished compared to the messy brilliance of the buildup.
How It Compares
Having read Coates’s haunted house stories like The Haunting of Ashburn House and Carrow Haunt, I noticed how much “How Bad Things Can Get” stretches her range. It abandons ghosts but not atmosphere, trades creaking staircases for shifting sands, and proves her command of dread extends beyond the supernatural.
Fans of Paul Tremblay’s The Cabin at the End of the World or Riley Sager’s island-set The House Across the Lake will find a similar interplay of isolation, survival, and human psychology.
Who Should Read This
I’d recommend How Bad Things Can Get to:
- Readers who enjoy thrillers with psychological weight.
- Those interested in cult stories and their aftermath.
- Fans of atmospheric horror that prizes dread over gore.
- Readers curious to see Darcy Coates step into new territory.
Final Reflection
For me, “How Bad Things Can Get” wasn’t about the blood or the disappearances—it was about Ruth. About watching someone who has carried silence for decades finally find her voice, even if she has to bleed for it.
Darcy Coates may not have written her most unpredictable novel here, but she has written one of her most human. And that, for me, made the journey across Prosperity Island worth every uneasy page.