Posted by: Thomas Drinkard | March 14, 2012

Sample from “V Trooper -Second Mission – The Demon”

The second novella in the V Trooper series, stories of the vampire warrior, is almost ready for formatting. Hang on for more action and surprises. There are also two love stories.
“He slid through darkness like a wisp of smoke driven by sudden wind.
If someone had been watching as he crossed the dirt road forming the village street, it would have appeared that a momentary flicker of black had appeared and vanished with no sound.
The vampire slowed, and then paused when he reached the back of the alley behind the blacksmith’s shop.
There’s the first target.
The man behind the Land Rover’s steering wheel had the window rolled down halfway. He was smoking. He’d frequently stick his left hand out the window and flick away the ashes.
Wil approached the vehicle from the rear of the alley and moved like the shadow of trees shifting along bending grass in the night. He crouched and waited beside the car, poised like a compressed spring next to the left rear door of the SUV.
A skinny arm thrust out the window to tap ash from a cigarette. It never got to full extension.
The vampire grabbed the man’s wrist and snatched it outward until the victim’s shoulder hit the glass. Before the Afghan could scream the alarm, Boyd hit him above the ear with a fist that struck like a hammer. Wil opened the door, pulled the unconscious driver out and dragged him into the alleyway behind the vehicle. He lashed the man’s hands and feet with nylon restraints.
“ I have the driver.”
Boyd spoke to Anna without sound.
Through the walls he suddenly heard shouts, a scream and a shot. He moved to the street end of the alleyway just as three men burst through the double doors. A green, strobing light briefly lit the dirt road from inside the building.
The first man, leading the way with an AK-47, rounded the corner, heading for the SUV. Wil grabbed and shoved the barrel of the weapon up, snatched it from the man’s hands. He slammed stiffened fingers of his right hand into the terrorist’s throat like the point of a spear. The terrorist fell, gasping, clawing at his larynx and probably dying.
The second man saw what had happened to the first, snatched a pistol from his waistband and fired two shots. The first hit Boyd in the sternum.
Damn! That felt like a barroom sucker punch!
The second shot burned a shallow groove above the vampire’s left ear, plowing a path through hair and flesh to the bone.
Shit! That burned like a red-hot fireplace poker!
There was no third pistol shot.

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