Kill Wilson (Petersburg Vampires) Read online

  This story has been going around for a few years, and like all good yarns, it seems to have grown until it has taken on epic proportions. That’s fine, if the folks involved in the war were all dead and buried. But that’s not the case.

  Thing is, there’s a bunch of people who, directly, or indirectly, were responsible for the events that took place on Mitkof Island, in Southeast Alaska. And seeing as I know more than a few of them, and I know the truth about who did what to who, it makes sense that a proper recording of the events needed to be made. My friends who had a hand in the war, vampires and humans, have given their blessing for the truth being put into printed form.

  You heard me right…Vampires. There are a sizable number of vampires living amongst the human race. Many are working alongside you, some socializing with you, a few teaching your children in school; and occasionally, you might even have slept with one.

  The story begins with three roving vampires, and a night that went horribly wrong.

  Anne Marie Paine, (a vampire who had been murdered and reborn in 1882 at the age of sixteen) along with her sire, Danner, and her brother, Riley, have spent a hundred years traveling the country, roaming from one place to the next. They’ve made friends, forged business alliances, and made a bit of money; but they were drifters, answering to nobody.

  Things change when Danner is called to appear before his sire in a tiny town in Alaska. The three leave immediately, not realizing their immortal lives are about to be changed forever. The horrific events that take place during their ill-fated trip leave Anne Marie with one single focus: to collect a blood debt from Danner’s sire, Beryl Wilson.

  The tiny, unqualified girl is willing to sacrifice everything, including her immortality, in the pursuit of Wilson’s head.

  For nearly two years, Anne Marie trains with the world’s greatest warriors, preparing her body…and her mind, for the impossible task.

  Assembling a crew of vampire warriors and human Army veterans, she sets out for Alaska to collect the debt Wilson owes. The team contains a former Ranger sniper, a Kenjutsu sword master, a munitions expert, and the greatest vampire warrior of the past 500 years.

  What follows is an honest account of the vampire war that took place near the town of Petersburg, Alaska. This straightforward version of the events doesn’t attempt to gloss over the facts. There is violence, horror, sex, and drugs. There is grotesque murder, insanity, and sadism on a grand scale.

  But there is also friendship, loyalty, respect…and finally, closure.

  Above all else, the story sticks to the facts. If you have a weak stomach, I suggest you continue researching the other numerous accounts recorded about the Petersburg War. You might find a softer, gentler version of the story. But you won’t find the entire truth anywhere but right here.

  For those who have the fortitude to continue, don‘t be scared. But I suggest you be ready to accept the reality about vampires. A good rule to live by is…it’s a hell-of-a-lot better to have them on your side, than as your enemy.

  When you finish this story, I think each of you will agree.

  Kill Wilson is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Kill Wilson

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  Copyright@2013 R.G. Lawrence. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Acknowledgment

  A special thank you to my copy editor, E.A. Lawrence.

  There’s nobody better.

  Books by R.G. Lawrence

  Golden Boy

  Summer With Fidel

  The Circle

  Kill Wilson

  Kill Wilson

  Prologue

  Vancouver, British Columbia

  The boy was on the threshold of insanity, the events of the past few minutes his most horrible nightmare times ten. He didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to see the carnage surrounding him. The smell was horrific beyond belief, a mixture of the coppery stink of blood mixed with the urine and feces and intestinal gas voided from his friend’s dead bodies.

  He was in a killing room, and his heart was the only one still beating.

  It had started so innocently, the four young men bar-hopping like most Friday nights, the grind of school forgotten in the bright lights of the Vancouver gay scene. Three of the four attended the University of British Columbia, the fourth was an art student at Emily Carr. Most weekends ended with the four sick and hung-over, but satisfied they were getting all they could get from their college years…and their parents monthly expense checks. That they found solace in each other was a blessing, one they didn’t take lightly.

  Occasionally one or two of them would get lucky and disappear for a time with a new, anonymous partner, but after three years in Vancouver, they accepted being gay was lonely. If a guy had a few friends to hang out with, he was way ahead of the curve. Belonging to something was so much better than belonging to nothing.

  All four boys noticed the strangers walking through the door of the PumpJack Pub on Davie Street. There were two of them, tall and gorgeous in semi-formal evening attire, long overcoats and scarves hanging nonchalantly around their necks. They weren’t much older than the boys sitting at the table, although the manner they carried themselves and the way they were dressed made them appear worldlier. There was a definite cultural schism between the two groups.

  They paused, looking around the bar as if searching for somebody. The one in front was well over six feet tall with long blonde hair reaching his shoulders, and blue, piercing eyes.

  A predator, the boy remembers thinking; a beautiful, breathtakingly perfect predator. And it was obvious he was on the prowl.

  Oh, please let it be me, the boy begged. The second was shorter and lighter with dark, wavy hair falling over his forehead and covered his ears; no less attractive than the blonde. They were danger, and the four boys wanted whatever they had to offer.

  When the strangers approached their table, the boy’s first thought was nobody ever paid them any attention, why would two of the most beautiful men he had ever seen end up standing inches from his chair? A red flag went up in his head, quickly replaced with the yearning to do anything this man wanted him to do.

  When he started to talk, his voice was mesmerizing to the four.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Sheldon, and my friend and I are making the rounds of some of the night spots in Vancouver, and we thought it would be more fun with a crowd,” the blonde said, his
eyes resting on each of the boys one by one. “We have a car out front. Won’t you care to join us? Our treat.”

  An army battalion couldn’t have kept the four from departing with the strangers. They indeed had a car out front, a black Mercedes stretch, the driver standing next to the open rear door. The group hit most of the gay bars in Vancouver, the drinks flowing, and the strangers indeed paying the tabs. As the boy neared total intoxication, he thought how strange the two men weren’t drinking.

  Somewhere along the line he passed out.

  He woke when the limo pulled up a circular drive and stopped in front of a stunning, colonial mansion. The front of the home was brightly lit, and as the seven men exited the car, the front door opened and a tall, good looking man smiled down at them.

  “Welcome to my home, gentlemen; I take it you’ve enjoyed a splendid evening. If you’re up for it, please join us for a little after-hour party.”

  “This is getting creepy,” one of the boy’s friends whispered, the two looking around and realizing the house was located deep in a forest; no other lights or sounds nearby.

  “Just roll with it,” the boy slurred. “Not costing us anything.”

  The tall man led them through the house, descending down a circular staircase to a lower level. The boys gasped at the setup. There was a fully stocked bar, a buffet of finger foods, sandwiches and desserts, and a plate full of what the boys discovered was very potent cocaine. The music was coming from a first rate sound system, the tunes modern and just loud enough to add to the atmosphere without being invasive.

  “I’m so glad you could be here tonight,” the man was saying. “We only make it to Vancouver a few times a year, so we’re without a lot of friends in the area. I’m happy Sheldon found four new friends for us to enjoy tonight.”

  The party was on, the boys taking advantage of the food and drink; but above all the drugs. Within an hour, the gluttony progressed to an orgy of sexual perversions the boys only dreamed of, not one of them complaining. Never in their wildest fantasies had they thought they would be indulging in sex with the type of beautiful people who were hosting them. They were amazed at their ability to perform over and over, chalking it up to the potent cocaine hits within easy reach. Naked bodies were slamming each other in every possible position, partners were interchangeable, and groups were inventing new and perverse methods of sexual maneuvers.

  The boy was worn out, forcing himself to take a break from the non-stop action. His stomach was sour from the intake of alcohol and drugs, and every inch of his body was sore. Despite all or this, he thought this was the best night of his life. He giggled to himself, knowing he had indulged in more sex tonight than all the times put together in his life. My dick is raw, he laughed, looking down at himself, shocked he was becoming erect yet again. What the hell is going on? I feel like Superman.

  He slid down the wall, leaning back and closing his eyes, telling himself a five minute rest was all he needed before he would jump back into the action.

  When the boy’s eyes finally opened, all thoughts of his penis, Superman, and the pile of unused cocaine were replaced by a scene so shocking it almost stopped his heart. The boy watched unbelieving as his young friend from Emily Carr was held upright by two of the men, a huge smile on the youngster’s face as he proudly displayed his rock hard erection for all to see. One hand was caressing himself, the other on the chest of the man on his left who was vigorously sucking the boy’s neck. The other man, the blonde Sheldon, calmly leaned over and took a massive chunk from his friend’s neck, leaving a gaping wound and severing every artery and vein, the vessels squirting crimson blood like miniature fire hoses.

  All sound stopped as the other men looked on with hunger, the remaining three boys staring in horror as their friend was drained of his life blood.

  Then the real butchery began, the boys slowly and methodically torn apart, the men eating and drinking from them until they were nothing but empty shells of what they had been. The students were eviscerated, their intestines sliding around on the wooden floor, mixing with the remainder of their excess body fluids. The boy watched as arms and legs and heads were tossed aside as if they were chicken bones tossed aside at a fast food joint. They drank every drop of blood from the three boys, the naked predators moving to a grotesque, sparkling dance in the twinkling lights of the blinking disco ball.

  He squeezed his eyes shut; vowing to never open them again…but he couldn’t do anything about the other senses. The screaming death throes of his friends mixed with the howls of the monsters, the disgusting smells, and the feel of the slippery liquids flowing across the floor beneath his fingers pushed him into a state of near insanity.

  When the noise finally abated, he prayed he was alone, and only then did he peek through slit eyes. He was staring into the face of pure evil, looking at the tall man, the host, standing not three feet in front of him, his eyes full of death; razor sharp fangs filled his mouth.

  “Who…who are you…why did you kill my friends?” he finally managed in a shaking, squeaking voice, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the cocaine fueled snot flowing from his nose.

  The man smiled, not one degree of humor in his eyes.

  “My name is Wilson. I killed your friends…well, because I can. You see, I am life and death…and you…you are nothing. Do you want to know why you’ve been spared?”

  The boy couldn’t answer, only nodded.

  “You are the pretty one. When I saw you, I decided you would be going home with me. Welcome home, my child.”

  Wilson reached down and grabbed the boy by his hair, pulling him to his feet. Looking the boy in the eye and smiling, he kissed him on the lips, then calmly opened his mouth as wide as he could and sank his fangs deep into the boy’s throat. Wilson fed hungrily from the young student from UBC, the boy who would be his newest vampire.

  ------

  “Danner, I’m needing to feed, man,” Riley Toole called from the backseat of the black Ford Edge, the vehicle cruising down the highway, its headlights cutting through the black mist of the Oregon night. Danner Gray was the leader of this tiny clan of three, and the others would always defer to him.

  “I hear you,” Danner said from the passenger seat. “Where we close to, Amp?” he asked the driver, a unique looking girl; half Chinese and half Irish.

  Forever sixteen, Anne Marie Paine barely looked her age, five foot four and weighing right at a hundred and ten pounds. Thin with long legs and small breasts, she would fit in at any high school with no problem. Her coal black hair was cut short on the sides and punked on top, this week streaks of blue threading through the confusion. Her eyes were as black as her hair, and if she was in a good mood, they twinkled; if not, they could look as dead as a corpse. The darkness of her hair and eyes contrasted sharply with her pale, flawless skin. Her nose was small and pug, fitting her face perfectly.

  She wasn’t a beauty, but she was just different enough her look stayed in a man’s mind longer than it should; and in plenty of female minds, too.

  “Lookin’ like a town somewhere up ahead, I think. Hell, we’re in the middle of who the hell knows, but I think I see a glow. Should be the first signs of Portland, maybe suburbs or something. GPS says about half an hour until downtown.”

  “Good,” Riley said. “I’m feeling a bit peaked.”

  “You are the biggest puss I’ve ever known,” Amp called over her shoulder. “You fed night before last in Vegas. You’re not peaked; you’re spoiled.”

  The three had been on the road since early evening, Amp driving the entire time. She liked to drive, and the other two didn’t, so it worked well. They were a good team, each secure with the knowledge whatever the circumstance, they would have two loyal friends watching their back.

  The bantering with Riley made her smile, the two very much like siblings. Riley, turned at the human age of twenty-four, was like a big brother, although Amp was almost 70 years older. The two couldn’t have looked any different, with Amp’s
oriental features and Riley’s blonde surfer looks and radiant smile. Females of all ages look twice when he walked by. The obvious affection for the other overcame all else in their relationship. Amp knew Riley was always near as her protector and, quite often, her antagonist.

  ------

  Parking the car on a dark corner of downtown Portland, the three vampires prepared themselves to sample the local nightlife. They seldom hunted together, each having their own preference when it came to feeding. They had no rules, only Danner’s wish they try to keep from killing; and if they did kill, try like hell to make it someone who needed to be dead.

  “Hey, three hours max,” Danner said before they split up. “Let’s be careful. Strange town, strange people. Just get what you need and let’s meet back here on time.”

  Then they were gone in three different directions.

  Twenty minutes later, Amp was sitting in a downtown Portland teen club, sipping on a bottle of water, eyeing the crowd as they screamed to the DJ’s music. They showed off for each other, and did the things kids everywhere did. As Amp took in the scene she had watched more times than she could count, she saw the one she wanted.

  Every part of the vampire’s focus was on the thin girl walking towards the bar. A redhead, 18 or 19, not beautiful, but pretty in a nerdy way, not a curvy girl at all; waiting to grow into her frame. The girl was wearing white shorts, a green retro Stones t-shirt, and black mid-high Nikes. Amp loved the girls who nobody else had learned to appreciate, and this one was perfect.

  “Just a bottle of water,” the girl called to the guy behind the bar. She didn’t look much different than Amp, and when she turned, sipping on her bottle, she found the dark-haired vamp staring at her.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Amp asked, smiling her sweetheart smile.

  ‘Chillin’,” the girl answered. “You?”