“There’s three more, Poe.”
One appeared before them and threw a heavy fender at the windshield. It startled Maclemar so much that he crashed into a jackknifed produce truck.
The engine died.
“Do something, sheep-shagger! They’re coming!” said Gutierrez harshly.
“Listen, boyo, I’m trying,” said Maclemar. He turned the ignition, but the engine merely coughed. “I don’t see you helping the women out.”
“That’s because I don’t have a silencer,” he sneered.
The fender-throwing undead punched holes in the windows. Glass scattered inside. Poe said,
“Excuse me” to Jorge’s body before she hopped over his extended legs. The van shook amidst Maclemar’s cursing.
“Thank you, my beauty!” said Maclemar when the engine hummed back to life. “Get the bastard that broke my windshield, please.”
“I’m on it,” said Poe. She lowered the window and aimed at the leather critter holding a second fender in his hands. Now, said the voice in her mind. Poe pulled the trigger and hit the blood-deprived vampire in the heart. To its left side emerged another vampire throwing rocks at the van while running to keep up.
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Poe squinted and fired, catching the undead in the head.
“One more, Poe,” said Maple who wasted most of her bullets hitting nothing. She was taking pains to kill the fastest vampire of the lot.
Poe saw it, naked, bony, and hung like her neighbor’s ratty Marmaduke pooch. He was walking toward Maclemar with a tire iron. Poe launched herself toward the front of the van, vaulting over Jorge’s dead body and landing on the emergency brake between Maclemar and Gutierrez. She aimed through the hole in the window and fired twice. Glass scattered as Poe hit the dead in the eye and heart.
“That’s my girl,” said Maclemar with relief. He pulled Poe by the shoulders and landed a deep, grateful kiss on her cheek.
“So that’s why Sainvire wants you back. You’re a superhero,” said Gutierrez sarcastically.
“And don’t you forget that, Jorge,” said Maple.
“Yeah, or I’ll shove my Welsh foot up your alcoholic ass,” seconded Maclemar.
It was dawn when the van pulled into an impressive barn, the red kind used in Superman films but four times the size, with haylofts and animal stalls. Instead of horses, however, sleeping bodies occupied the hutches and cubbyholes. Several trucks and buses were parked neatly in two straight lines. The air was crisp but tolerable with the redolence of acrid garlic blossoms. The scent made everyone’s eyes water with the exception of Maple. It was like sniffing freshly sliced onions.
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“I may be an intrepid daywalker, but I gotta confess that I can’t abide the smell of garlic. It makes me weak-kneed like my Johnson’s about to get shaved,” said Romulo. “To build tolerance to garlic, I’d have to get inoculated by its essence and fight permanent death until my body gets used to it.” He tied a yellow bandana bandito-style to cover his nose.
The vampire looked like a train robber.
Nobody acknowledged him. Any odor was better than the smell of the liquid oozing out of the dead man’s mangled intestines. Maclemar and Poe had been fighting off nausea the last hour of the drive.
Poe recognized the small man who closed the barn door behind them. It was Ed whose height and weight defied all stereotypes. She’d seen the five-footer who weighed less than her plunk down hefty railroad tracks ahead of a train like a scene from a Wallace and Gromit flick and toss two-ton boulders as if they were beach balls. The man could probably lift an elephant with one hand and drink cappuccino with the other.
“Hello, Poe,” he nodded politely. “Good to see you again.”
“Hey there, Ed,” Poe smiled guardedly as she stepped down from the van. She wondered whether the man would have the dubious honor of lifting the body out of the vehicle. The folks rubbing fluorescent lights from their eyes made her queasy. Most people didn’t trust her. She’d killed perfectly good vampires because she thought Sainvire and Joseph had betrayed her. “Nice to see you, too.”
His impassive eyes focused on the body inside the vehicle and paused. She didn’t hear what Maple told him for Maclemar, carrying Chops in the nook of 120
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his elbow like an infant, draped an arm around her shoulder and led her away. A few curious folks padded toward the van.
Penny darted to the side door. Her tail was wagging, but she was reticent because of bodies scattered around the barn. She joined Poe. The dog sat on her haunches and stayed close to her companion.
“Should we go outside? Maybe people will feel more—”
Words failed her as the barn door opened and he came in. He was followed by a long-limbed vampire with shortly shorn blonde hair. Her curious blue eyes caught Poe’s, and she smiled. She’s beautiful in her confidence and obvious kind heart, thought Poe.
By this time a crowd had congregated around the van. The stark fluorescent lights on the high ceiling hid nothing.
They didn’t hide the dark circles around his eyes or the stubble that sprouted from his face. No feature about him was welcoming. His gray eyes rimmed with black glanced her way for but one second. That was all. Jaws working, the master vampire made his way to the van.
Maclemar’s pity squeeze embarrassed her. She shrugged off his arms still about her. She vaguely heard Romulo say, “Well, boss, the good news is you got your other girlfriend back but at the cost of—”
Poe felt claustrophobic and headed for the door.
She didn’t want to stay to hear Romulo’s ranting.
Letting herself and the dog out of the suddenly stifling barn became job one. Before she could reach the door, however, Romulo’s scream of surprise echoed ferociously until his body slammed onto the 121
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highest parapet of the barn wall. Then like a bird that struck a window, he sluiced down and lay on the ground with a groan next to Poe’s foot.
Poe couldn’t help it. She stared back at Sainvire who looked murderous. Their eyes met. His spitting gaze dared her to judge him. She couldn’t and looked away.
“Aw. What the fuck,” moaned Romulo on the ground. “It was only a joke.”
Wordlessly the master vampire carried Jorge’s body from the barn with the aplomb of a broken king.
Some of them couldn’t speak properly from residual effects of at least ten years in an induced coma.
Pregnant pauses and stammering were common among the ex-cattle. A mere two years of freedom barely cured them of stiff muscles, phobias, and nightmares. Tossing and screaming were common nightly occurrences in the barn. To be allied with vampires and halfdeads who liberated them from Downtown L.A. blood factories was still a strange concept.
Two of them took her to the sprawling farm house in the vicinity. Hansel and Gretel, she referred to them secretly, as they didn’t offer their names. She was lucky to get as much as a grunt. Both Scandinavian blondes in their forties, they provided her with a half-filled tub of cold water and a pail of hot water.
Word had spread about Jorge’s passing. Poe was certain from the rude way shampoo and soap were tossed into the tub from the door instead of being 122
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handed to her. Poe had been sitting in a curtainless tub half-full of water for five minutes. The bar of soap landed on her foot and bruised a toe.
She bit down a string of curses. It was a day of mourning.
No such thing as locks in the countryside, I guess. She wrung the face towel until no drop of water could be extracted to manage her rage and degradation. Jorge, after all, had died trying to transport her safely to the temporary headquarters.
“They probably peed in the bottle,” Poe said out loud and sniffed the bottle of Herbal Essences. Her habit of talking to herself had returned. “I mo
re than deserve it, too. Jorge was a good guy.”
She blamed Sainvire.
“Why did he have to bring me here?” she asked the air. She lathered her hair with her own travel-size shampoo. “Why if he’s just going to ignore me and get somebody killed? And then there’s his girlfriend.
She’s beautiful, and she looked at me with pity.
That’s not right.”
Two successive knocks forced her out of her reverie. “Hey. I’m not, um, done in here.”
“Don’t care. I’m coming in,” a muffled woman’s voice announced. “I got some more hot water for you.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need—”
The door swung open, and a very pregnant Megan came in with a steaming pot. Whoever heard of a bathroom without a lock and shower curtain?
Poe covered herself with her arms and a face towel as best she could.
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“Poe! At last,” said Megan. She got down on her knees to give Poe a hug and kiss, unmindful of her friend’s naked state. “I’ve missed you, girl!”
“Hey, Megan. I missed you, too. But can you please shut the door?”
Her heart dropped to her knees when she saw Maclemar and Sainvire walking past with somber expressions on their faces. Both looked her way in time to see Poe turn crimson and slip lower in the soapy water.
“Oops. Sorry,” Megan said quickly. By the time the redhead managed to heave herself up and reach the door, Poe imagined half the household had seen her. “I hope your trip wasn’t too bad.”
“Um, you know. It was great,” Poe answered.
She poured the hot water into the tub herself. Her hand shook a little, an aftermath of seeing Sainvire and Maclemar outside the door. “I was clunked in the head by a gorgeous giant I shared some cotton candy with then kidnapped by an American Lit grad student turned fisherman who shackled me to his boat as Revenent fodder. Today we landed on Endor, and instead of meeting up with over-the-top Ewoks, we were attacked by tree vamps with bad hygiene. One of the men Maple brought along died a painful, drawn out death this morning. Really, I had an absolutely stupendous time.”
“I’m sorry, Poe, but we had to do it,” Megan explained. She pulled up the lid of the toilet and sat down. It was more comfortable that way. “Our sources informed us that certain sections in West L.A. and Santa Monica would be razed. Some rat blabbed that a bunch of squatters were living there.
Including you, Public Enemy Number Two.”
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“I’m only number two because of Trench’s conceit,” said Poe.
“You did melt away his movie star good looks, the pride of his life,” she concurred. It was the first time she really looked at Poe, half-submerged in the soapy water. A gasp escaped her lips. “My God, Poe.
What on earth is that on your chest? Are those fresh bite marks?”
“I got kicked by a simian. You can see the imprint of its toes right here,” Poe said as she pointed at a bruise shaped like a foot. “The rest are scratches and dog bites courtesy of Passionada’s posse. Oh, and this wound on my cheek is from a Revenent tooth.
“Getting back to the subject, if I had known about the demolition, I would have headed for Malibu and avoided all B.S.,” she added. She thought about her parents’ things she would have liked to preserve. The thought of them burning made her sick.
“I rode my bike there a few times, up the PCH.
Trench wouldn’t have destroyed a glitzy neighborhood like Pacific Palisades or Brentwood.
Not that my neighborhood sucked. It was small but full of character.”
“Sort of like you?” Megan smiled.
“I’m not small. My real height is 5’8” – the same as my mom’s,” said Poe. She dunked her head underwater. “I’m camouflaged right now ’cause I’m wet.”
“Wow. You’re not as touchy anymore. You can take a joke, I see.” Megan grinned. “I remember how sensitive you were.” Nevertheless she didn’t dare correct Poe’s overestimation of her height.
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“You’d be surprised how much I’ve evolved, and how much I’ve stayed the same.”
“You look healthy and not sickly thin anymore.
And you still don’t have any hair to shave. How I envy you.”
“Who shaves nowadays? A waste of time. And who are women trying to impress anyway?”
“You’re absolutely right. Every follicle is needed this coming winter. What are those things on your legs?”
“Calluses,” Poe answered. She took a towel from Megan. “Long story. But tell me, who’s the proud papa?”
“That’d be my darling Joseph.”
“Joseph?” asked Poe, her eyes huge with questions. “Dragon tattoo Joseph? Sainvire’s best friend? Fellow Filipino Joseph? Vampire Joseph?”
Megan giggled and nodded happily. “Yes, yes, yes. He’s the one.”
“But I thought vampires are sterile in general.
And the ones who do have kids have ugly ones with lizard tongues,” Poe said in confusion, shaking her head. She still dreamed of the babies that walked the ceiling like geckos. They had formed a chain and attacked her in the Los Angeles subway tunnels so long ago.
“Don’t worry, Poe,” Megan reassured. “I’m pregnant via turkey baster.”
“A what?”
“Through a human donor who donated his sperm?”
“Who was it? And a turkey baster, really?”
“Remember Morales? And yes, a turkey baster.”
“Morales?” She got it now. “Wow.”
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“I thought you liked him.”
“I do. He’s a super-great guy. One of my favorite people,” she said. She recalled the man who had accompanied her in the tunnels and helped carry her after injuring an ankle. He was a flirt who wore an infinitesimal amount of cologne that made her groggy, but Morales was an all-around swell guy.
“He and Joseph are taking a third of the group to a secure location near Monterey. These are the people willing to try homesteading on their own. Once they decide on a place, Joseph and Morales will make their way back to Gilroy.”
Megan caressed her smooth boulder of a belly and added, “I know it’s nuts, but despite all this craziness I find myself so happy. I’m 38, Poe. I have to take major leaps to make things happen. And what’s better than creating a new life to make this earth a little less rickety?”
Poe nodded. She kept her thoughts to herself.
“I’m glad for you.”
Less rickety? Most people I’ve seen in this compound are already dead. Arthritis. Degenerative bone diseases. Psychologically frail and physically ridiculous. These are the soldiers in charge when Sainvire’s fellow vampires slumber during the day.
Like Romulo said, only a few can call themselves daywalkers. Megan, the baby inside you will be Trench’s blood supplier someday. There’s nothing happy about that. For once she was thankful she didn’t menstruate. A baby was the last thing she wanted.
“You’ve seen Jenna?” Megan asked, looking at Poe through her reddish eyelashes.
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“The vamp standing next to Sainvire when I came in this morning?” said Poe. “Sure. She seems lovely. Looks like a model.”
Megan rubbed her belly. “She’s very nice.
Sainvire met her before your time, Poe, when he was hawking Plasmacore in bordering states. They were on and off.”
Poe wanted to end the conversation, but she wanted more answers. “Does he love her?”
The girl’s naïve question put a smile on Megan’s lips. “Maybe. They seem more like good companions to me.”
“Isn’t that the best kind of relationship?”
“I suppose. But I think he had passion for you.
And I believe he loved you.”
“Sure,” Poe said. She rolled her eyes
to the cottage cheese ceiling.
“Listen, he made sure you were safe. He knew you’d head to West L.A. because your folks were from there. He alerted the bands of humans who lived there to treat your right, to never let you starve, and to keep you from harm’s way. He made Passionada write coded reports about how you were faring. If that’s not passion and love, I don’t know what is.”
Poe shrugged her shoulders. If Sainvire loved her so much, then why didn’t he send for her? Why did he renew his relationship with Jenna? “Don’t kid yourself, Megan. He’s just feeling guilt. He’s good at torturing himself over nothing.”
“I’m sorry. That’s all I can offer you two,” said Habib who hovered like an anxious hen while Poe 128
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and Maclemar filled themselves with buckwheat pancakes and spinach omelets he’d whipped up.
“Are you joking? This is the best food I’ve had in years,” cried Maclemar who ingested everything put in front of him.
“Poe can tell you about the buffets we used to have at the library,” he said, twirling the ends of his mustache. He looked melancholy.
“I remember very well, Habib,” Poe said. “I think about those meals more than I think of my brother and sister sometimes. Whatever happened to your fellow chefs? Janice and—”
“They’re gone, Poe,” he sighed heavily.
She couldn’t swallow the omelet bites in her mouth. All those nice, generous people dead?
Before she lost it, a muscular girl slightly older than Poe came in from the kitchen entrance and dropped a heavy sack of turnips on the kitchen floor.
Even Poe doubted she could’ve lifted the sack. Her presence spelled ‘tough’ and ‘badass’. She was not the sort to be crossed because she would certainly have retaliated with her fist. At least that was what Poe thought of the young woman who dogged her with intense eyes.
“What’s this?” she asked. She tossed tightly wound brown curls out of her eyes and wiped the sweat from her forehead with a grimy hand. The girl had been hard at work in the scorching sun. With an icy hazel stare she looked Poe and Maclemar over.
Dead Surround - The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles Page 11