C.O.T.V.H. (Book 3): Extermination by Dustin J. Palmer Read Free Book Online Page A

control me.  I do my best to make sure these things are more afraid of me than I am of them."
    "Okay," he sighed.  "Let’s Rock and Roll!"
    John ran through what to do if he ran into more trouble than he could handle.  "If you can't talk, just click on your emergency signal on your walkie and we'll come running. Most of all just remember to be careful."
    Jake nodded firmly, his sweaty hands gripping Judgment tightly.  He stood before two of the greatest hunters in recent memory and prayed deep down that he'd make them proud by doing the job he'd been trained for.  With nothing left to say he was ready to take his first steps as a hunter.  He turned and started the long walk across the gravel driveway toward the house.
    Cort's voice sounded behind him.  "Hey kid!  Bring me back a souvenir!"  Jake couldn't help but smile.  He knew deep down his grandpa was just as worried as his dad was.
    The house loomed over him menacingly the closer he grew to the front door.  The gravel crunched loudly under his heavy boots with each step and high above he could hear the buzzards squawk.
     
     

Chapter 2
    Jake
     
     
    Outside Patricia, TX
    September 10, 2001 7:45am
     
     
    Jake took a deep breath then reached out with his right hand turning the brass doorknob.  It didn't budge.  He put a little more muscle into his grip but it still didn't move.  Jake reared back, using the axe like a battering ram and slammed it into the door right above the deadbolt.  The door-jam splintered and flew open with a loud thunk .
    "Awe yeah," Jake said aloud feeling good about himself for the first time that day.  The rotting smell that wafted out from the house quickly ended his moment of triumph. His eyes watered and his throat burned as the stench of rot and death breezed right through his bandana/salve defense.
    “Damn!” he coughed.  They sure forgot to mention this in training.  I’ll have to make a complaint next time I see Ortega.  He coughed again, yeah right.  Ortega would probably take a deep breath, eat a bowl of chili, then call me a whinny little bitch.
    With his left hand Jake reached up and turned on the headlamp attached to the hardhat.  Slipping Judgment into the sheath on his back he pulled The Cleaner from off his shoulder and with gun in hand stepped inside.  The yellow beam shone across the darkened room.  His aim roamed the room methodically, checking every inch of it for threats.
    The only light coming in was from the now open front door.  Every visible window was either boarded up or painted over. "Crap," he whispered. 
    Until that very moment he'd still been holding out hope that the house might not be a vampire den.  Maybe Talon had been wrong.  Maybe the smell was from a backed up septic tank.  Not likely but a guy could hope.  But the windows . . . there was no sensible reason that he could come up with, short of some terrible George Romero-esk Zombie uprising, that a dining room table would be nailed up across a window.  No, there is only one reason for that, to keep the sunlight out.
    Jake looked around the room taking in his surroundings.  It was an old house with scuffed and scratched hardwood floors, covered sporadically by large dusty rugs.  An ancient, stained tan couch sat in the middle of the room in front of an old Magnavox TV with rabbit ears on top.  The only thing out of place was a pile of destroyed furniture in the middle of the room that seemed to be made up of what looked like a twisted bed frame, box springs, a mattress, and a shattered dresser.  Jake shone the light up at the landing upstairs.  The rails were sheared off.  Someone had been tossing furniture from the rooms above.
    Jake's training kicked back in and he pushed the button on his walkie and whispered into it, "I'm in.  Definitely vampires.  The windows are all boarded up."
    "Copy that.  Be careful," John’s voice responded.
    Jake began searching for a light switch along the walls.  He didn't have to