Teaser

 

I kept a lookout for more pet zombies and stake-wielding maniacs in the weeks that followed. Fucking zombie vampires. Wretched, Freddie’d called them. I knew of a couple of types of vamps, and that was more of a caste system than anything else. I wasn’t made a vampire to lie around fancy mansions and wear ruffly shirts while bitching about the meaningless of my existence. I was put to work. I was changed so I could do the work. It was a miserable existence, but I really hadn’t had any sort of choice in the matter. I was told where to get my weapon, where to fire it, who to fire it on, where to sleep and what to eat. There was no glamour in hanging out in alleys waiting for dirty vagrant vampires to bother staggering out the back to retreat before the sun came up. I was working hard to forget that time before. My life was in Pale Rider. I was fucking retired from the extermination business.