By Charlie Huston
These tales you pay attention? those approximately issues that basically pop out at evening? issues that feed on blood, feed on us? received information for you: they’re precise. simply it’s unlike the films or outdated guy Stoker’s storybook. It’s worse. particularly in case you be one in every of them. Just ask Joe Pitt.
There’s a shambler at the free. a few idiot who obtained himself contaminated with a flesh-eating micro organism is lurching round, attempting to munch on folks’ brains. Joe hates shamblers, yet he’s nonetheless the person who has to house them. That’s simply the type of existence he has. other than afterlife may be higher word.
From the Battery to the Bronx, and from river to river, ny is crawling with Vampyres. Joe is one in every of them, and he’s now not chuffed approximately it. Yeah, he will get to be more desirable and speedier than you, and he’s difficult as nails and tough to kill. yet spending his nights attempting to rating a pint of blood to feed the Vyrus that’s consuming at him isn’t his proposal of a great time. And Joe doesn’t make it any more straightforward on himself. Going his personal manner, refusing to best friend with the Clans that run the undead underside of Manhattan–it ain’t effortless. It’s worse as soon as he will get combined up with the Coalition–the city’s strongest Clan–and reveals himself trying to find a negative little wealthy woman who’s long past lacking in Alphabet City.
Now the Coalition and the girl’s high-society mom and dad are respiring down his neck, anarchist Vampyres are pushing him round, and a loopy Vampyre cult is stalking him. No time to bitch, although. acquired to discover that woman and kill that shambler ahead of the whip comes down . . . and sooner than the solar comes up.
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Additional resources for Already Dead (A Joe Pitt Novel)
They didn't get many calls. Mostly Duane's buddy looking for him to go drinking or strip a few cars that had broken down on the highway. Their Bud and Babe money they called it, and often right to her face. No, it was not Duane's boys calling this early. M. would find them three hours into the deep sleep of another drinking binge. After the third ring, for some reason, her hand had reached out and plucked up the phone. The man's voice was crisp and professional. He had sounded as though he were reading from a script and her sleep-clouded mind had pretty much reasoned that he was trying to sell her something.
He would make her see, convince her of the inescapable logic of joining with him. How it would change everything for her. More than she could ever imagine. More than she could ever hope for. How could she say no? It was an offer that simply no one could refuse. If she came. Jackson rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, took a long, slow drag on the cigarette, and stared absently at a nail pop in the wall. But, truth be known, how could she not come? CHAPTER TWO The brisk wind sailed straight down the narrow dirt road between the compression of thick woods on either side.
The information was readily available, he had replied, so authoritatively that she instantly believed him. But she already had a job, she had told him. He asked what her salary was. She refused to answer at first and then, opening her eyes while Lisa suckled contentedly, she told him. She wasn't sure why. Later, she would think that it was a premonition of things to come. Because that's when he had mentioned the pay. One hundred dollars per weekday for a guaranteed two weeks. She had quickly done the arithmetic in her head.