Like the punk subculture she emerged from, you can’t keep Liz Suburbia down. It’s been awhile, sure, but you knew she’d be back — and you also probably suspected that the story she chronicled in the pages of Sacred Heart was far from over, as well.

Happily, both things are true, and in a manner of weeks, Suburbia will be marking her return to the “alternative” comics “A” list with the release of Egg Cream #1, the first book-sized installment in what promises to be an annual “solo anthology” title published under the joint auspices of Czap Books and Silver Sprocket. I was fortunate enough to get my grubby paws on a copy prior to launch, and eagerly consumed its contents in one sitting, amazed as always by Suburbia’s deft characterization, intricate long-form plotting, and raw, involving illustration. Time hasn’t mellowed her in the least, and for that, we should all be grateful.

There’s some solid short-form stuff in here to round out the book’s contents, none of which should be passed over by readers, but the main feature is the first installment of Sacred Heart part two, Livin’ In The Future, and whether you’re familiar with this story or not, this is “can’t-miss” reading of the highest order. Picking up ten years after the disastrous flood that forever altered the course of life in Alexandria, Va., this opening salvo hints at more mystery than its predecessor offered, the lingering question of why the local teens were left to fend for themselves by the town’s grown-ups moving front and center as their situation continues to deteriorate in ways both entirely expected and decidedly less so. It’s tense, smart, gripping stuff — but is it accessible?

Prospective new readers will be pleased to know the answer to that question is an unequivocal “yes,” even though some foreknowledge certainly doesn’t hurt. The focus here seems to be broader and more expensive than last time out, where protagonist Ben Schiller was at the center of everything, our literal “eyes and ears,” but I’m mindful of the fact that this is only part one (of part two), and what things seem like now may not actually end up being what they are. There’s a tremendous amount of backstory (or, if you prefer, “world-building”) going on here, all of which is handled so skillfully that it never feels like rote and workmanlike “info-dumping,” but that’s simply a necessary exercise in adding flavor and texture — the bulk of the narrative has tremendous forward thrust, and I defy even the most casual of readers not to be straight-up hooked by the time the final page rolls around.

Fortunately, for a work so planned-to-the-last-detail, a “DIY” tone and aesthetic still permeates throughout, and I think that’s a function of Suburbia’s approach to, and philosophy of, art itself as an organic, ever-evolving, intuitive exercise, one that tells a story but, crucially, doesn’t resort to anything as cheap and tawdry as naked manipulation to make its points. Just because she’s thought this all through, in other words, doesn’t mean she’s out to tell you what to think, what to feel, or how to respond to her efforts. She’s your guide, not your boss, and that’s “punk rock” all the way, as far as I’m concerned.

That ethos carries over to her artwork, as well — it’s rich, eye-catching, and incredibly fluid, but it never feels (or, crucially, looks) overly-belabored or obsessive. Each panel on each page has clearly-discernible goals, and Suburbia meets them by means of smart choices rather than through tedious OCD-esque process. The end result is a book that flows into you, much like its titular beverage. Treat yourself to this delicious Egg Cream by heading on over to http://www.czapbooks.com/product/egg-cream-1