By David Wellington
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Additional info for Laura Caxton 1 13 Bullets, A VampireTale
She stepped around to the trunk to stand beside him. “We think there are three people in there. A man and two children, genders unknown. There’s enough left of the man’s left hand to get prints. ” Arkeley kept staring down into the trunk. Maybe he was too shocked to speak. Caxton doubted it. She’d been working highway patrol for three years now and she’d seen plenty of wrecks. Despite the barbarity of the murders and despite the fact that the bodies had been shredded and heavily mutilated, she could honestly say she’d seen worse.
As I watched they undid themselves. It was like when you run over one of those shatterproof trash cans and they slowly but surely undent themselves, returning to their former shape in seconds. A puff of white smoke in Lares’ vacant eye socket solidified, plumped out into a brand new eyeball. The wound in his nose shrank away to nothing and the one in his cheek might as well have been a trick of the light. Like a shadow it just disappeared. When he was whole and clean again he slowly took the broken glasses off his face and threw them over his shoulder.
He gave us a good, long look at his mouth and then he jumped over our car. I could hear his feet beating on the roof and he was all at once on the other side. He hit the ground running, running toward Liberty Avenue. The SWAT team arrived at the corner before he did, sliding out of an armored van, four agents carrying MP5s. They wore full helmets and riot armor but it wasn’t standard issue. Their commanding officer had insisted I give them a chance to modify their kit. We all knew what we were getting into, he told me; we’d all seen plenty of movies before.
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