Tears of No Return Read Online Free PDF Page A

commit again if given another chance. Not that he saw a way out of this predicament. He only hoped Ben’s aim would strike true if this was to be the end—the slightest miss and the garlic-tipped arrow would hurt like hell, leaving him to die slowly in pain as Ben prepared another.
    The brothers lunged forward, swung. Both lances punctured through Morgan’s undead flesh, pinning him to the wall like a specimen readied for dissection on a board. The liquid garlic burned his skin off, as though his flesh where made of wax and exposed to the flame.
    Morgan shut his eyes and fought the urge to cry out. Ben Morse laughed in response, aware of his agony. Morgan looked up, each brother seeming more confident now that he was under their control and at their mercy.
    “Been fun hunting you, bloodsucker,” Ben said, firing his crossbow, sending the deadly arrow into Morgan’s chest, missing the heart by an inch. The pain was exquisite, infuriating .
    “Sorry, guess I missed,” Ben lied.
    Ben walked up to Morgan, withdrew a stake from his trench coat, and held it to Morgan’s right eye.
    “A vamp like you deserves a fitter ending.” Ben tipped his head and gazed skywards. “Sun will be up soon.”
    Morgan followed his slayer’s eyes. A small wedge of the horizon was visible beyond the alley walls, the sky a hazy blue with glimmerings of orange beginning to creep in. Ben turned back to face Morgan.
    “I’d stay and watch, but I’ve got one of your kind trapped in a freezer back at the bar. Good luck in Hell, bloodsucker.”
    The hunters stabbed Morgan several more times with garlic-laced knives, leaving him barely conscious. His captors exited the alley, all displaying proud grins, as the sun’s rays lit the brick wall a few feet above his head.
     
     
     

 
    Chapter 3
     
     
     
    Karen drove back to her apartment. The trip seemed instant; she remembered none of it, her body on auto pilot. She was in shock, she thought. More than mere nerves, an overwhelming feeling of loneliness plagued her in a way she’d never known before that night. She sat on her couch and cried.
    She went to the bathroom, threw up after one final jolt of anxiety, then stood in front of the mirror above the sink.
    “You have to get a hold of yourself, girl,” she said before squeezing her eyes shut and scrunching up her face. Opening her eyes, she willed her face to relax. “Look ahead, not back. What’s done is done.”
    Karen left the bathroom after flushing the toilet. No matter what she told herself, she couldn’t calm down. She paced the living room. The quiet was too much for her nerves so she turned on the radio. The station was tuned to a local sports talk show, one she listened to regularly. The hosts’ voices instantly brought a level of familiarity and comfort to her. The feeling of loneliness slowly ebbed.
    She went over the events of the morning in her mind, wondering how long it would take the military to track her down. Could they? Maybe she was in the clear.
    She hadn’t promised Josh she’d go after the spaceship. And why should she have her life turned upside down if she was in the clear? The tire tracks. She’d left tire tracks in the dirt road where Josh died. That would be the first clue to lead the military to her. The second: the ATM cameras. An object she believed would help her might now doom her.
    Karen raced over to her phone and dialed the bank’s number. A cheery sounding woman who identified herself as Debbie answered, gave the standard greeting, and finally asked, “How can I assist you today?”
    Karen asked about the ATM, if it was up and running yet. Debbie, with an overly joyous tone, told her the machine was working. Next, Karen asked about the security camera.
    “Could you hold please? I want to transfer you to the manager,” Debbie asked, not waiting for an answer.
    Karen was tempted to hang up, but didn’t. She sat impatiently and was about to slam the phone down when the manager came on the