Read Six Times Deadly: A Lawson Vampire Story Collection (The Lawson Vampire Series) Online
Authors: Jon F. Merz
PANEL ONE
:
MAYBE A HALF-PAGE SHOT OF THE DOORS BEING BLOWN OPEN.
AUTOMATIC GUNFIRE SOUNDS AMID THE CHAOS AND CONFUSION.
SMOKE AND SCREAMS.
PANEL TWO
:
BARTOK’S GOONS FALL UNDER THE ASSAULT.
SHADOWY FIGURES POUR ONTO THE CATWALK.
PANEL THREE
:
HOT LEAD CASINSG RAIN DOWN ON LAWSON AND THE TWINS.
PANEL FOUR
:
THE GUNFIRE DIES.
ON THE CATWALK, RIKKI STANDS THERE WITH AN UZI.
PANEL FIVE
:
LAWSON PLUCKS A HOT SHELL CASING OUT OF HIS COLLAR.
PANEL SIX
:
RIKKI POINTS TO THE TWINS.
PANEL SEVEN
:
BOTH GIRLS LOOK ANNOYED.
PAGE TWENTY-FIVE
PANEL ONE
:
OUTSIDE THE WAREHOUSE.
PANEL TWO
:
THE TWINS POINT.
PANEL THREE
:
ANOTHER CAR SCREAMS PAST THEM – ALL THREE DIVE OUT OF THE WAY.
PANEL FOUR
:
LAWSON LOOKS UP FROM THE GROUND.
PANEL FIVE
:
THEY RACE TO THE TWINS’ CAR.
PANEL SIX
:
THEY SCREAM AFTER BARTOK’S CAR.
PANEL SEVEN
:
INSIDE THE CAR, FROM BEHIND LAWSON BARTOK’S CAR IS VISIBLE AHEAD.
BOTH CARS ARE MOVING VERY FAST.
PANEL EIGHT
:
FROM ABOVE LOOKING DOWN ON THE CHASE.
PANEL NINE
:
SPLIT FRAME CLOSE-UP ON STELLA’S FACE AS SHE DRIVES / HER FOOT ON THE GAS.
PAGE TWENTY-SIX
PANEL ONE
:
THE CITY GIVES WAY TO FORESTED COUNTRYSIDE.
STELLA GETS CLOSER.
PANEL TWO
:
SHE NUDGES THE BACK LEFT BUMPER OF BARTOK’S CAR.
PANEL THREE
:
BARTOK’S CAR SPINS OUT OF CONTROL.
PANEL FOUR
:
IT SLAMS INTO A THICK TREE.
PANEL FIVE
:
GAS LEAKS FROM HIS CAR.
PANEL SIX
;
LAWSON AND THE TWINS SPILL OUT OF THE CAR.
PANEL SEVEN
:
BARTOK IS SLAMMED BACK AGAINST HIS SEAT WITH MOST OF THE STEERING WHEEL EMBEDDED IN HIS CHEST.
HE DRIBBLES BLOOD AND HIS BREATHING IS RASPY.
PANEL EIGHT
:
TELLA GRABS AT BARTOK.
PANEL NINE
:
TELLA PUSHES BARTOK AGAINST THE STEERING WHEEL.
BARTOK SCREAMS.
PANEL TEN
:
CLOSE-UP OF BARTOK HANDING OVER AN ENVELOPE.
PANEL ELEVEN
:
TELLA HANDS THE ENVELOPE TO LAWSON,
PAGE TWENTY-SEVEN
PANEL ONE
:
BARTOK’S EYES ROLL UP.
HE’S DEAD.
PANEL TWO
:
LAWSON EMPTIES THE ENVELOPE.
A FILM CANISTER ROLLS OUT.
PANEL THREE
:
ALL THREE CONSIDER THE CANISTER.
PANEL FOUR
:
LAWSON TEARS A STRIP OF BARTOK’S SHIRT OFF.
PANEL FIVE
:
HE WRAPS IT AROUND THE FILM CANNISTER.
PANEL SIX
:
HE LIGHTS THE DANGLING SHIRT MATERIAL WITH A LIGHTER.
PANEL SEVEN
:
THE FLAME LICKS ITS WAY TOWARD THE FILM.
PANEL EIGHT
:
LAWSON TOSSES THE FLAMING BALL INTO BARTOK’S CAR.
PANEL NINE
:
LAWSON AND THE TWINS GET BACK INTO THEIR CAR.
PAGE TWENTY-EIGHT
PANEL ONE
:
FROM INSIDE THE CAR A VIEW OF LAWSON’S FACE AND REAR WINDSHIELD.
IN THE BACKGROUND, BARTOK, THE FILM, AND THE WRECKED CAR EXPLODE.
PANEL TWO
:
LAWSON YAWNS.
PANEL THREE
:
LAWSON FROWNS.
PANEL FOUR
:
CLOSE-UP OF TELLA TURNED ARUND AND SMILING AT LAWSON.
PANEL FIVE
:
LAWSON SEES THE GIRLS AS TWINS ONE MOMENT AND HAIRY WEREWOLVES THE NEXT.
PANEL SIX
:
THE CAR SLOWS BY A RED LIGHT.
PANEL SEVEN
:
LAWSON OUTSIDE THE CAR AS BOTH GIRLS LOOK AT HIM.
THERE’S CURIOUS RESPECT ON THEIR FACES.
PANEL EIGHT
:
THE MERCEDES ROARS OFF.
PANEL NINE
:
WIDE SHOT OF LAWSON SILHOUETTED AGAINST THE DAWN PEEKING OVER THE URBAN LANDSCAPE.
END.
CODENAME: Belladonna
One of the questions I get asked frequently is what happens to Talya when she’s not with Lawson.
A few years back, I sketched out a proposal for Talya’s own novel series.
It never got much interest from the big publishers, but with the advent of ebooks, I’m back exploring this and wanted to give my readers a sneak-peek at the first two chapters from the first Talya novel.
Let me know if you enjoy them! - Jon
Chapter One
I wasn’t in a good place.
There’s something about being tied to a chair with your feet in ankle-deep water and the thug across the way charging a car battery that can really make a girl feel less-than-loved.
“Who sent you?”
We’d been over this a dozen times in the last dozen hours, but I don’t think he cared.
His job was simple: get me to talk.
My job was a bit more complicated: stay alive, figure out who was trafficking human organs all across the world, and then kill them.
I was concentrating on the first part a whole lot more just then.
“You will talk.
Everyone does.”
He brushed the jumper cables together tossing a few sparks into the water.
“Eventually.”
He was wearing rubber hip-waders.
The water wouldn’t bother him.
But it would amplify the pain I’d soon be receiving from the electrical charge unless I either started talking or did something to make sure I walked out of here.
The last time I’d felt vaguely feminine, I was in Tokyo, leaving my boyfriend behind.
Boyfriend’s kind of a weird term for it.
Feels a little too young.
And truthfully, I’m not sure either one of us knows exactly what we are to each other.
There’s a lot of love there.
But there are a whole lot of complications as well.
He’d kissed me and I’d left.
Our roads had diverged once again.
Doing what I do and doing what he does, we aren’t together a whole lot.
When we are, it’s good.
When we’re not, I miss him.
But my focus is on my job.
This one was personal.
Several years back, I’d basically adopted an entire town in Africa filled with awesome children.
I funneled money to the town to make sure they all had medicine and education and a chance to escape and do whatever they wanted to.
The smiles on those kids’ faces…it warmed my heart in ways I’d never thought possible.
I’m an idealist, I suppose.
I like to think that given the opportunity, anyone can do anything with their life and make a difference.
Someone dumped all over my optimism, though.
They slaughtered the entire village and ripped the organs out of the kids.
God knows where they ended up.
I picked up the trail and it led me to Japan, where I almost died.
In the end, the person I thought was heading up the entire organization was dead.
But there were more people out there involved.
And instead of being the end, Tokyo became the start of a brand new trail – one I had to follow.
I’d flown into Kuala Lumpur or the “KL” as the locals call it -
during the rainy season.
The wall of humidity that smacked into me when I stepped off the plane made me want to run back inside and suck in as much artificial air conditioning as I could.
But I pressed on.
I caught a cab to a small hotel a few blocks away from Petaling Street and spent the first night trying to acclimate myself to being wet all the time.
It was like being in the jungle, just with a lot more concrete.
The next morning I got to work.
The underside of Malaysia is as seedy as any bad joint in the world.
As fast as Malaysia’s economy has grown, there are at least 50,000 slum-dwellers in KL itself.
Some of them live in “long houses” and others get evicted from place to place with no real home at all.
That means a lot of desperate people.
Life doesn’t mean much when it can be stolen in the blink of a blade and the wet hiss of a dying gasp.
For a woman like me to walk the mean streets meant I was an instant target of curiosity.
And when I started asking questions, I knew the cats would eventually make their move.
I got stonewalled and headed back for some sleep.