by M. Lorrox
I’m an emerging American author. My story is like any good novel; it’s full of mystery, suspense, drama, and comedy. Hopefully my story turns into a fine wine—instead of a stinky cheese. In any case, while I’m writing that book (as slowly as possible), here are some highlights so far:
I was raised in a barn in rural, upstate New York. It was cold. We had a wood-burning furnace that never worked well. I gained an early appreciation for sweaters.
In junior high, I tried…and failed, to publish a book about dragon science. I still have the manuscript, and I’ll publish it someday.
In college, I made up some BS, then earned a MFA in story-telling. I learned Northern Shaolin Kung Fu and taught it for a while.
After college, I discovered I had problems with authority… And conformity… And bigotry… And misogyny… And etc., etc., etc. I tried to make small changes while still fitting in, then I gave up on fitting in altogether, and I started flipping tables like no tomorrow.
I bought a motorcycle and crashed it. Then I fixed it and kept riding. Hey, want to harden your nerves? Spend a couple years riding 25 miles a day, rain or shine, on Route 66 and the 495 Beltway of DC in rush hour. You’ll either be dead or a badass.
After gaining badass status, I wanted to postpone putting that last update on a gravestone, so I decided to move out of the busy DC area. Instead of renewing the lease on my apartment, I signed up for an awesome gym membership, moved my stuff into storage, and squatted in a DC warehouse for a few months. I worked out and showered daily at the gym, which required me to carry various bags around. Homeless people on my routes thought I was also homeless, and they would offer me advice. I always thanked them.
After six months of shenanigans, I decided to push my luck in DC, and I signed a lease for an affordable apartment on the top floor of a building. The roof
collapsed on me on Valentine’s Day. I took a selfie with the rubble on my head; I was pissed.
I now live in Durham, North Carolina in a nice, warm house with a good roof. My local gym isn’t fancy, but it does the job. I enjoy riding my motorcycle to local coffee shops, very safely. Most importantly, I continue flipping tables like no tomorrow.
Early on Monday morning, a man in a long coat and hat steps out from the back of a car. As he walks, the sun’s wake-up stretch casts a fifty-foot shadow down the sidewalk. Ten paces and he is out of the light and into an alleyway. On the next breath, he coughs. He’s here.
Halfway across the alley, where the backs of the buildings meet, he sees a puff of smoke coming from a cracked-open door. “Blackjack?”
The door opens. “Exeller, right on time.” A man in a hotel uniform raises his eyebrows while he takes another drag from his cigarette.
Of course I’m on time, you piece of horseshit. “It’s going to happen this week, be prepared to move ASAP.”
Blackjack exhales smoke to the side, then motions with his chin. “Take off your glasses. I like to see who I’m dealing with.”
Ha, you have no idea. “Understandable.” Exeller slides down his dark sunglasses and peers over them. “Happy?”
Not freak-green. “Sounds like I will be, later this week.”
Exeller slides his glasses back on and reaches into his pocket. “Take this cell, it’s prepaid and unused.” He holds open a plastic bag.
Blackjack takes the phone from inside.
“Keep it charged and on you at all times. I’ll be in touch with specifics when I have them.”
Blackjack slips the phone into his pocket. “We still need one part, don’t forget. You told me—”
Exeller leans in and growls through his teeth. “I know damn well what I told you and I will deliver it in time. You just take care of your part and be ready. I’m putting a lot of trust in you, BJ, and I hope for your sake that you hold up your end of the deal.” His lip quivers as he shifts his weight back.
Blackjack nods. “I got it alright? Don’t forget who the enemy is—we can do this.”
Exeller grabs him by the shoulders. “There is no ‘we,’ no you-and-me, no nothing. You got that?”
“Jesus, calm the fuck down. I got it, now let go of my suit, you’re wrinkling the shit out of it.”
Exeller exhales and releases him. “Be ready. Best guess is Thursday evening, but I’ll verify. It could be earlier.”
I’m going to have to steam this after work. He scowls at his shoulder then looks back up at Exeller. “Yeah, just get me what I need, and let me know when it’s time.”
Exeller turns and walks back the way he came.
Blackjack watches him leave. What a psycho... But it doesn’t matter. We’re gonna make those bloodsuckers bleed.
Charlie’s phone starts blowing up in his pocket. He checks to see who it is. That could be about a variety of things. He doesn’t answer. After a minute, it rings and he checks again. That can only be about one thing... He turns his phone off, takes a deep breath, and looks out the Jeep’s windshield at a large sign on the side of the highway. Welcome to Virginia. Virginia is for lovers. “That’s cute.”
Sadie glances at him. “What the sign? I think it’s kind of weird. Who’s calling you?”
“The sheriff’s office and the fire department. Our house is probably ashes by now.”
She frowns. “That’s too bad. I liked that house.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He imagines the walls engulfed in flames and the roof collapsing, but only for a moment. He turns around to check on Minnie. The little golden-haired girl strangles Valentine in a headlock while she sleeps. “She’s still a little red. Better though.”
“I know. Poor thing. We’ll be extra careful for a while.”
“Like a couple years. The age she’s at is the worst. I hate it.” He stretches and wipes his eyes. “Damn. I’m so tired.”
“Me too.”
Charlie sighs. Zombies. How the hell did this even happen? It’s so absurd. He sits up and turns toward his wife, communicating with his hands as much as his words. “This is fucking bullshit. I didn’t live four-hundred years just to have fairy tale monsters ruin the world.”
“Fairy tale monsters?”
He nods. “Yeah, you know, from the Brothers Grimm.”
Sadie turns toward him and squints for a second.
“You know, that story about the kid who wanted to learn what fear was, so he hung out in a castle and a dead body reanimated and tried to kill him. I think that was the first zombie... And you know what? I wish that’s all zombies were—just scary, made-up stories. Imaginary.”
Sadie grins. You never cease to amaze me. “Do you think humans wish that vampires were just imaginary?”
Charlie scowls. “What? They don’t know about us.”
“Actually, lots do. There’s one following us right now.” She glances in the rearview mirror to Skip’s truck.
“That’s different.” He leans his seat back.
Sadie side-nods. “Well, it’s different with him and the others we’ve told, but I mean the rest of the people that know. For example, the bastard that just burned down our house.”
“Well… I mean, we’ve coexisted with them for millennia. Their and our history is intertwined. They can’t just wish we didn’t exist.”
She shrugs and yawns. “Just saying.” She notices the sign for the Virginia Welcome
Center. “Oh, here.” She lifts her phone from the dash. “Text Mary, will you? She knows we’re coming, but tell her we’ve crossed into Virginia.”
“Alright. When we come to a rest stop let’s pull over for a bit. I could use a little break.”
“We literally just passed the welcome center. It might be a while before another stop.”
He groans as he texts Mary. “I hate road-trips.”
She reaches over and takes his other hand in hers. “Charlie, don’t say it…”
He hits send, closes his eyes, and rubs her hand. “Are we there yet?”
She chuckles. “Yup, feel free to hop out at any moment.”
Tomato Potato Co.
PO Box 51368
Durham, NC 27717-1368
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by M. Lorrox
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Tomato Potato Co. Rights Dept., PO Box 51368, Durham, NC 27717-1368.
Edition: First Blood
ISBN: 978-1-947130-02-9
For more information, visit online:
https://mlorrox.com
https://series.infinitevampire.com
https://tomatopotato.co
Cover illustration by David Moscati.
Table of Contents
Attention!
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
A note from M.
About M.
Queen’s Gambit
Copyright