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

empty shell.  Pearl took advantage of his mistake and leapt up to the ceiling.
    "Dad?!" Jake called out for his father, frantically searching the room.
    "John!  Where are you son?!"  Cort yelled.
    Jake spotted his size sixteen boots sticking out from behind the couch where Pearl had been hiding.  "Grandpa!  Over here!" he said stumbling over to John's unmoving form.
    "Dad?" Jake said, quietly touching his shoulder.
    John's throat and chest were covered in blood.  His eyes opened a tiny bit and barely above a whisper, he said, "Pop, get Jake out of here." His eyes closed and his body spasmed so violently he broke three fingernails off on the scarred hardwood floor. 
    “Get away from him, Jake!”  Cort yelled grabbed Jake by the back of his vest.
    John’s eyes opened wide, his features contorted into something completely unrecognizable.  Long fangs sprouted from his gums, cutting deep into his bottom lip. “Get back!” Cort screamed, jerking Jake to his feet.
    "Poppppppp!" John grunted climbing to his feet.  “Jakkke?”
    Cort placed himself between the grunt that had once been John and his grandson.
    John leapt to his feet in one swift movement, his skin immediately began to burn as the sunlight hit him.  He cried out in pain shielding his face with his hands.
    “Dad?”  Jake pleaded, trying to pull away from his grandfather’s iron grip.
    John’s eyes locked onto the blood flowing freely from Jake's wounds.  Letting out a loud guttural growl he stalked forward, all but ignoring his burning flesh.
    "Get out of here Jake!  Goddamn it run!" Cort yelled pulling his Python.
    "Dad!" Jake screamed.  "NO DAD! NO! NO! NO!" he repeated over and over.  He couldn't believe what had just happened.  He wouldn't.  Not his dad.  Other people got turned, but not his father.  He was too good.  Too fast, too strong to be turned!  He was the John Bishop!  The man that had walked into the Twister den and come out with over a dozen pairs of fangs in his pocket.
    The grunt knocked Cort to the ground with one hand and charged at Jake, the tantalizing smell of blood drawing him in.
    John was almost upon him when the bullets from Cort's Python slammed into his back.  John turned and snarled at him then turned his attention back on Jake.
    "Kill it Jake!  Kill it!" Cort yelled, emptying the spent rounds from the gun’s chamber.
    Jake leveled The Cleaner, the very weapon his father had gifted him just hours before, but could not bring himself to fire.
    "He's not your dad anymore, Jake!  Kill it!" Cort screamed frantically reloading his gun.
    Jake closed his eyes tight and pulled the trigger.  His Dad's skull shattered before him. John's broken body dropped twitching to the floor.
    "No!  God please no!" Jake screamed out in anguish dropping to the ground, tears streaming from his eyes.
    Cort ran to his side and pulled him up.  "Come on son, we gotta go.  Did you see where the Maker went?"  Jake couldn't answer him.  "Damn it boy where's Pearl?" Cort said shaking him.
    Jake snapped out of his momentary trance and shook his head.  "I . . . I . . . don't know . . . I didn't see . . ." a growl from above answered Cort's question.  They both looked up to see her crawling across the ceiling trying to stay out of the sun's rays.
    "Get out Jake!  Get out now!" Cort said pushing his wounded grandson toward the door.  He grabbed the shotgun from Jake's hand and covered their retreat, firing at the girl.
    Both men broke out into the sunlight.  Jake leaned against the truck panting, grabbing at his shredded chest.  Cort jerked his knife free from the still smoldering skeleton of Anna and with one hard chop separated her skull from the spine.  He held it high into the air so Pearl could see it.  She roared an anguished cry of pain and hatred from inside the house.
    Cort tossed the skull into the bed of the truck then reached over the side.  Jake couldn't see exactly what he was doing but when he came back he had two