I Kill Monsters: Fury (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

the men.
    “The product, the money,” confirmed Santa
Anna.
    “Got these for you, Goose.” Gossitch, turned
in the passenger seat, took the pack of Marlboros from Boone
without taking his eyes off the street behind them.
    “We clear?” Santa Anna glanced in the rear
view.
    “We clear,” said Gossitch.

 
7.
5:19 A.M.
     
    They drove in silence for several blocks and
then Santa Anna turned the car into an alley that let out into a
rubble-strewn lot. The Pontiac was there already and Jay and
Hamilton were transferring cases to the van.
    “Pop the trunk,” Gossitch told Santa Anna as
the Reliant pulled to a halt next to the van. Gossitch got out of
the K-Car with his SMG and walked back to the alley. Boone and
Santa Anna went to work unloading the trunk of their car into the
van.
    Gossitch followed the passage and stood in
the rain near to where it let out into the street, keeping an eye
on the way they’d come. Vampires didn’t move about freely in the
daytime, but that wouldn’t stop them from sending their slaves…
    As he watched the road, Gossitch reached into
his back pocket and took out his Marlboros. He lit one up. This
neighborhood was mostly deserted and anyone who could wouldn’t talk
to the cops. Around here, the police weren’t considered the good
guys. Around here vampires and other things preyed on the poor and
the weak, and when people complained no one listened to them. The
ones who listened didn’t believe them.
    Gossitch knew better. He knew the stories,
the reality. He knew that where there was myth there was often some
kind of truth. He knew that myth could serve as the perfect cover,
an alibi. He knew that when a man or woman survived an encounter
with a beast of legend they couldn’t always rationally describe
what had happened to them, what they had seen.
    The people here…society had dismissed them as
pariahs and leeches, abandoning them. Who really cared about them?
Gossitch knew why the vamps liked to prey on these men and women.
Who was going to notice if a few more homeless or hookers went
missing? They disappeared all the time and it rarely made the
papers.
    Gossitch had to give the vamps credit. They’d
gotten more sophisticated in the last few years. They were getting
better at what they did. This whole blood collection scam for
instance. What an idea. Why kill humans or turn them to slaves when
you could keep them willingly coming back, time after time, none
the wiser? The vamps had plenty of cash on hand to pay volunteers,
and in a neighborhood like this there was never a shortage of
volunteers. Gossitch exhaled a plume of smoke and thought he had to
hand it to the vamps, there was a diabolical genius to their
idea.
    A city bus passed a block down.
    He knew the vamps had their own problems.
Civil war had thinned their ranks. The dissension that separated
clans was what allowed Gossitch and his crew to survive the way
they did. Play one side against another. Exploit them. Make a good
living from it, too. And thus far, knock on wood, they’d all been
able to walk away.
    He could hear the men talking as they worked,
blowing off steam. A lot of tension and anxiety around a job, but
so far Gossitch’s track record spoke for itself. He had hand
selected these men and his choices had been solid.
    “Goose, how’s it look?” Hamilton joined him
in the alley. He was a Guatemalan, his hair spiked up with gel.
    “Quiet morning.”
    “We good.” Hamilton nodded his head over his
shoulder back to the vehicles and other men.
    “Let’s roll, Ham.” Gossitch tossed his
cigarette butt to the ground and followed Hamilton back to the van.
Madison was behind the wheel. Hamilton slid across the bench seat
next to him. Bowie, Boone, Santa Anna, and Jay were in back with
the merchandise.
    They were all safe, reflected Gossitch. His
boys had all made it in one piece. He took great satisfaction in
this fact.
    He slammed the passenger side door closed and
Madison put it in drive, pulling back