Free C.O.T.V.H. (Book 1): Creation by Dustin J. Palmer Page A

pulled  The Cleaner  tight to his shoulder only to find the form of a middle age, six foot tall Comanche Indian with long black hair braided down his back, staring back at him.  It was Talon Parker.
    "Talon," John said, lowering the gun, his voice filled with relief.
    "Is the boy safe?" Talon asked walking carefully so as not to step on the broken glass. His footsteps were quiet as a ghost.
    "Safe as I can make him for now.  He's with the old man."  John gripped his old friend's hand tightly.  "Damn it's good to see you, Talon."
    "And you brother," Talon said, warmly.
    "Thank you for coming."
    "There were four of them,” Talon said, getting down to business.  “All Makers.  The first one you killed in the kitchen was just a grunt."  
    "Yeah, I know," John, said sadly. “He was a friend of mine.”
    Talon nodded thoughtfully. “A convenient target. Once they turned him, they knew all that he knew. The layout of the house, weak entry points, everything they’d need to come in.”
    “ You know Talon, it was strange.  I had the feeling that he was holding back.  There were several times he could have killed me.  Hell he probably could have snatched Jake off his bed and been feasting on him out in the yard and I never would have been the wiser ‘till it was too late. But he didn’t," John shook his head.  "It just doesn't add up."
    Talon thoughtfully rubbed at the large bone handle of the knife strapped to his belt.  "Yes, very strange.  Why did they wait so long to attack? Once they had his knowledge of the house, they could have come on their own. Instead, they waited.  If the Makers had come first you and Jake would be dead right now.  Why send in a single solitary grunt?  And so much anger.  So much hate," Talon knelt down and picked up a picture of Julia and Jake that had been ripped in half. “It all seems so very . . . personal.”  
    "I don't know what's going on here.” John shook his head.  “But I've got to find Julia.  I talked to Pam Williams.  She's a doc now, over at Midland Memorial.  She said Julia didn't make it to work last night.  And she sure as hell didn't make it back here.  So, the question remains.  Where is she?"
    "I'll find out," Talon said, silently walking out of the house. John looked over the room for a few more minutes, staring at the remnants of the life he had tried so hard to make.  How many times had he curled up next to Julia in their bed and whispered in her ear how much he loved her? Now it lay ripped and broken hanging through the window. How many times had he rocked Jake to sleep as a baby in the rocking chair now in pieces against the wall?  In one night, they had brought it all crashing down around him. He'd make them pay for this.  Before it had all been a game. Who could score the most kills, collect the most fangs, or make the most money.  Now it was personal. Now it was war.  He would hunt them to the very last one if it killed him.
    Saying goodbye to his old life, John walked back out of his house. He opened the door to his truck before he remembered the photo albums his wife had worked so painstakingly on over the last few months.  It was her latest hobby.  
    John jogged back into the house and into their bedroom.  Sure enough, in the bottom drawer of their broken dresser sat two photo albums.  He leaned  The Cleaner  against the wall and pulled them both out.   He let out a sigh of relief.  Finally a break! They hadn't been trashed along with everything else.  He flipped the biggest one open. His relief turned to terror.  The pictures had been colored over in crayon.  Each and every picture with himself and Jake had been scribbled over with black crayon.  Julia's pictures were circled and colored with bright red hearts. "My God." he said, dropping the album to the floor.  He snatched the gun resting on the wall and ran through the house at a dead run. I’ve got to find Julia! Throwing caution to the wind, he burst out of