Kiss and Kill by Jeff Gelb & Michael Garrett

Author:Jeff Gelb & Michael Garrett [Gelb, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-936535-17-0
Publisher: Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
Published: 2011-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

In the rear parking lot of the 1-666 Truckstop, near the parked Geo, Talion was withdrawing two bulky flare guns from a canvas bag.

“What are those for?” Vanguard asked him, gesturing with an open palm.

He thrust one of the flare guns into that palm. “They’re not silver bullets,” he said, “or wooden stakes—but they’ll do.”

Her head bobbed back as if she were evading a blow. “You expect me to shoot somebody? Please.”

He got right in her face; his breath mingled coffee and bourbon. “Not somebody, some thing,” he said. “They’re hell spawn. They’re born of fire, they’ll die of fire …”

“You are a lunatic,” she muttered. “But what’s my excuse?”

Then Talion began to prowl the rear parking lot. “If they’re anywhere, they’re here … and I know they’re here. They died within a few miles of this truckstop.”

Vanguard had to work to keep up with him, despite Talion’s draggy leg. “Listen,” she said, “I don’t believe in violence.”

He whirled and faced her. “You believe in the core of truth at the heart of the legend, don’t you? You know these creatures exist—otherwise, you wouldn’t have made this journey.”

And he stalked off, exploring the lot, eyeing each parked rig suspiciously.

She was glancing behind her when she bumped into him; she hadn’t seen him stop, frozen to the spot.

“There it is,” he said. “That’s their home.”

And her gaze followed his pointing finger to what, at first, seemed just the rear of another parked semi. But from under the slide-down door came an eerie red glow.

“That’s just a truck,” she said.

“You don’t think I can recognize the quarter-ton of steel that almost ran me down?” He nodded toward the rig. “But for the sake of argument, check out the personalized plate.”

She did: on it was the number 666. Nothing but the number 666.

Suddenly, she realized she was trembling. “So … so where are they?”

His smile was more a sneer. “You know the ‘legend,’ Doctor. Didn’t you write a little book or something? They’re inside.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

His eyes were wild. “There are three of them. I’ll shoot one, you’ll shoot one, and we’ll both pray to sweet Jesus I have time to reload for the third.”

Then he strode toward the ramp up to the back of the truck, the gimpy leg not slowing him down a bit.

And she followed.

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