By David Wellington
All of the reputable experiences say they're dead-extinct because the past due ’80s, while a fed named Arkeley nailed the final vampire in a struggle that just about killed him. however the proof proves otherwise.
When a country trooper named Caxton calls the FBI trying to find assist in the center of the evening, it truly is Arkeley who will get the assignment-who else? He’s been watching for this type of name to return finally. yes, it's been years considering that any symptoms of an assault, yet Arkeley is familiar with what most folks don’t: there's one left. In an deserted asylum she is rotting, plotting, and biding her time in a manner that in basic terms the undead can.
Caxton is out of her league in this case and greater than a bit afraid, however the fed made it undeniable that there's just one means out. however the worst factor is the sensation that the vampires wish greater than simply her blood. they wish her for a cause, one she can’t wager; a cause her sphinxlike associate understands yet won’t say; a cause she has to discover out-or die trying.
Now there are just thirteen bullets among Caxton and Arkeley and the vampires. There are just 13 bullets among us, the dwelling, and them, the damned.
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Extra info for 13 Bullets
Html Page 56 of 193 THE 6/5/11 2:41 PM his fingertips. To have a gift, to lose it beyond hope of ever regaining it, only to get it back so unexpectedly—-this was the true miracle of his life as a vampire. "Is there anything in particular you would like to hear, Dr. " Ludwig asked, eyes closed, fingers poised, like a mystic awaiting a vision of rapture. He was trembling slightly, though it was visible only by looking very closely at his wrists. " "Then for you, dear Doctor, Chopin . " Ludwig played for nearly a half hour, following Chopin's ghost as it led him brilliantly from one piece to another.
Father Xavier must have seen something funny. There were things that went on in the rain forest that were best ignored. Live and let live was Vincent's motto. The smart thing to do was look the other way, pretend the witchery wasn't there. Dr. Harrison came into the cantina through the door connecting it with the hotel. She hesitated in the doorway, smiling at Vincent, the bead curtain swinging back and forth behind her. Too bad she liked to dress like a man—khaki shirt and shorts, hiking boots, heavy red-striped gray socks folded over the top.
Roberto's face was expressionless, but Vincent could see the cold hatred in his eyes. Vincent was not afraid of Roberto, merely wary. Roberto had the eyes of a man who would cut your throat as you slept without thinking a thing about it. "I'm a physician," Dr. Harrison explained, trying to convince Roberto to help her. "My work is extremely important. " Roberto stood toe-to-toe with Dr. Harrison, looking down into her hopeful face. For a moment Vincent was afraid Roberto was actually going to accept her invitation, but he turned without a word and went back out the door.
13 Bullets by David Wellington