Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles, page 23
Fuck that. I’m no Joan of Arc, she thought belligerently.
Again she heard buzzing discussions of her height and how they couldn’t believe a child could eviscerate so many. Size doesn’t matter, she thought angrily. I’ll get you all, just watch!
Peter Nesbitt spoke from the highest steps of City Hall while five red berets flanked Poe on the well manicured lawn. The blue berets stood in a C-pattern to act as a barrier to the awaiting spectators. An assistant handed the vampire a cordless microphone.
“Thank you for coming to the flaying of Julia Poe, a nuisance, a thief, and a murderer of the worst kind,” he repeated. “You see, Miss Poe is a very shy person. She doesn’t like to be seen in the nude. One of her outstanding weaknesses, really. But tonight you will glimpse the loveliness she is withholding from the world.
Poe’s full mouth became a slit. The underground isn’t going to help me, and Sainvire is nowhere in sight. This isn’t going to happen again!
Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Poe pounced on the closest red hat. She wound her cuffed hand around his neck and like a monkey jumped on his back until the vampire dropped chest-first on the ground. Another small hop breeched his neck, loudly severing spine. Quickly she removed her cuffs and assumed a fighting stance with one foot behind the other and fists in front of her face. The other four guards raised guns, but Nesbitt sternly ordered them not to shoot. He wanted her to suffer an agonizing punishment. Poe smiled and kicked two vampires in the crotch. She’d tried the dirty trick before and found that vampires actually thought that their manhood was bruised when struck in the balls. But they were vampires and mended well. Mental fighting. Poe loved it.
Poe slipped the knives from her wrists and slashed the downed in the heart. She accurately threw the garlic-soaked knives dead center to the hearts of the remaining two guards. She retrieved her daggers and stared with feral hatred at Nesbitt and his guards.
“Nesbitt is a dictator!” Poe screamed. “You bastards have tortured cattle and milked their blood for so many years they have the nutritional value of cardboard, and you all know it. They’re literally dying right now, and leeches are raping their children. How can you live with yourselves?”
Poe instinctively knew that somebody was behind her, and she turned around to find a red beret sneaking around with a rope. Before he could think twice, Poe high kicked him in the face then buried her knife in his eyeball. The vampire’s yell was excruciating.
Poe resumed her talk like she had never been interrupted. “I know most of you use Plasmacore. You’re more powerful because of it. You feel like a million bucks. It clears your conscience.”
“Enough!” ordered Peter Nesbit. “What she says is propaganda meant to divide our city. Get her!” The vampire was visibly shaken, his usually aristocratic bearing wilting. When nobody made a move he barked, “Now!”
Half of the blues surrounded Poe but with their backs to her, keeping the red berets out like honed Roman soldiers. “What the hell is this?” asked a ruggedly handsome red beret vampire with missing teeth. “We’re your superiors.”
“Not anymore, you swine,” answered a scarred woman in the blue regiment. “Your lording over our city is over. Either join us or be killed.”
“Yeah, by you? You blue hats have less power than us.”
The woman pointed at the crowd. “There’s almost 500 out there. Most of them are ours, and they’re armed.” To prove her point, she raised a fist, and the crowd on the lawn imitated the gesture.
Poe tiptoed between two blue berets to search for Nesbitt, but he was gone from the City Hall steps. She tried to tear herself from the circle of powerful vampires and couldn’t. “Let me out,” she shouted, but no one was listening.
Sara picked the fallen microphone off the floor and raised it to her mouth. She spoke with composure, and her gray slacks and simple blue shirt made her accessible to the folks gathered around City Hall. “My sister Mina, my brother Earl, and I are part of the underground. We want to work with humans, halfdead, vampires, custodians, and whoever’s willing to make a change. We will all be equal. No one above another. But there will be rules and regulations that to be voted on and parceled out by a council composed of different beings. This is the United States of America where freedom once reigned, and it will once more. We’ll be a democracy again.” She nodded to someone in the crowd, and up the concrete steps walked Jane, her arm in a sling, followed by Joel and a custodian.
Poe cursed and dropped down on her knees. She stuck her knife into two different shins. Two blue berets stumbled on the lawn. The hyper Julia Poe hurdled over the injured parties and avoided guards like Ms. Pac-Man outmaneuvering multicolored ghosts. She reached the steps where the fledgling seeds of a government broadcasted their plans to San Francisco residents. She noticed Li among the new dignitaries, grabbed him by the shirt, and made him follow her inside the building. “Where the hell is Sainvire?” she asked, praying that nothing had happened to him.
“He was destroying boats at the harbor and a bomb exploded prematurely. He was damaged badly, but he’s healing quickly,” said the annoying Asian man.
“Where is he?” Her heart twisted into a bed of nails. She should have known something was wrong. Sainvire wasn’t one to hold a grudge or to avoid her for being rude and deranged.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t at HQ when we left.” He patted her back. “Don’t worry, Poe. I’ve never seen a vampire heal so fast. We fed him Plasmacore until he couldn’t swallow another drop. I’m sure he’s just taking in the clean air. I heard L.A. air stinks.”
“Don’t talk about my city like that, Li, or I’ll gut you,” Poe said seriously. Despite the bad memories, Los Angeles was her home, and her home was more than adequate. “When you see Sainvire, tell him I’m going after Nesbitt.”
“But they want you to speak to the city residents. I believe some guards took him to the chamber room for safekeeping.”
“Tell them hello for me.” With that, Poe lit like a rabbit with a purpose. “This isn’t my city. I won’t be a poster girl for your makeover. I’ve done what I set to do, and Kaleb and I are going home.”
“Fair enough,” said Li. Earl walked toward them, but Poe didn’t have time to chat.
Be alright, Kaleb. I can’t lose you, too. You’re my life, she thought as she sprinted to the chamber followed by Earl.
CHAPTER 15
THE MASTER VAMPIRE WAS a sure shot like herself. The carnage in the room was ghastly. Twelve blue berets and three underground resistance fighters died with bullets lodged perfectly centered on their foreheads. They looked stunned like they couldn’t believe they were permanently dead. They lay askew on the chamber floor, and the eyes and mouths of some were still open. Poe felt ill. She’d killed roomfuls of enemies, and she’d never once bothered to examine the dead. A rush of coldness enveloped her.
Peter Nesbitt, her equal or possibly superior in shooting accuracy, sat on his high chair, taking in Poe’s reaction. Her knives were mere rocks. The master vampire laid out the most expensive and accurate firepower she’d only read about in gun magazines. Four gold-dipped Purdey guns, Holland and Hollands, and a Perazzi used for Olympic shooting competition. Each weapon ran up to 30 grand each 20 years ago. Magazine clips carried 13 to 20 rounds. She was one dead fish.
“You’ve ruined what we stood for, Julia Poe. Because of you, this city will be overrun by vermin.”
“Neat of me, hey,” said Poe, trying to subordinate the fear in her voice. “No more master this, master that in the biggest cities in California. For all we know you could be pardoned and given a Victorian home, and you can garden to your heart’s content.”
“Your humor has never amused me, Julia Poe. Your disagreeable self will end tonight,” he said, rising.
Poe jumped when Earl whispered in her ear. She’d forgotten about the halfdead. “Let’s book, Poe. The guy’s insanely accurate. We’ll be Swiss cheese.”
“You go,” she said with her last dying courage. She pulled him behind her. Waiting for her brain to conjure up something interesting to say, Poe stared at Nesbitt. “So you’re a waste,” she said finally. “You have boring vampire powers. You’re just a good shot.”
Nesbitt’s face darkened. “I am no such thing. I am one of the most powerful vampires.”
Poe scratched her head, wishing she’d tied her hair back. “That’s because they’re all dead. I killed them. Besides, I bet I can kick your ass in hand-to-hand combat.”
Like an angry kangaroo molested by cars and industry, Nesbitt leapt from the ground to the wooden chamber dais. From there he hopped and landed in front of Poe who instinctively jumped forward. She met his angry body and shoved her knife into his ear. She would’ve aimed for his heart, but the dead was wearing Kevlar, and his left arm had suddenly extended an extra two feet and encircled her upper body.
Nesbitt cursed like a barman at the blade still lodged in and burning his eardrums with garlic acid. His snake arm squeezed her torso slowly but vindictively. She heard two of her ribs crack. Earl shot at the vampire from behind so as not to injure Poe, but the master vampire unwound his hand from Poe’s body and plugged him with his Perazzi. Poor Earl had no idea that the left-handed shooter was wearing a bulletproof vest. The halfdead that Poe considered a friend in the short time spent with him tumbled with a groan on the frosty marble floor.
Poe tried to cry out, but her broken ribs constricted her breathing. She staggered to one of the dead guards and unslung his Beretta. She ran as fast as she could to momentary safety behind a marble pillar. For the usual stupid reasons she’d neglected to wear protection herself. She’d always reprimanded Sainvire for not donning Kevlar, and there she was facing a foe that was most likely a better shot.
“Good. You’ve chosen a gun, Julia Poe. Now we can finally crown the superior shooter,” said Nesbitt with a haughty voice laced with pain.
She breathed through her mouth, the pain on her side so excruciating that inhaling was like taking in shards of glass. “That’s why you broke my ribs? So you can win? You’re a lousy dime-a-dozen master vampire. So what that your arm grows like a dumbass Gumby cartoon? Your powers are embarrassing for your social grade. I killed this vamp once with a long-ass snake tongue, and he had more dignity and class than you’ll ever muster. That’s why you hide your embarrassing secret powers.”
Nesbitt growled and fired at the column she was hiding behind, blasting down chunks of polished marble. One hunk of cheese-size marble clunked Poe on the head and cut her scalp. Blood seeped over her forehead. With annoyance she wiped at the blood before it reached her eyes. Nesbitt emptied his Perazzi before unsheathing a Purdey. Before he could fire once more, a commanding voice halted the bickering of the two hawk-eyed nemeses.
“Enough, Nesbitt!” said a bald Sainvire with a dangerous blaze in his eyes and a massacred hoodie riddled with holes. He looked as though he had been blown to bits and reformed into a less dignified master vampire. Truth be known, Sainvire preferred to dress down than dress in Armani suits like the master vampire she was fighting at the O.K. Corral of the vampire age.
“Ah, Kaleb, the master vampire traitor who’s been a pain in my joints for a generation. You’ve come to rescue your princess?” he mocked.
“Certainly not. Julia can take care of herself. She’s a superhero, haven’t you heard? I’ve come to watch her kick the shit out of you,” said Sainvire with a smile of steel.
Poe shook her head when Sainvire turned to her. She pointed at her ribs to convey that she was in a lot of pain and he should take care of Peter Nesbitt himself. Of course she couldn’t have expected the vampire to understand the meaning of hand and eye gestures.
“Julia Poe is no more than a girl. I broke her, and she is no match for me. Can you smell her blood? She is injured. But you with your speed and powerful nails—” said Nesbitt. Before he could finish his thoughts, he raised his weapon and fired five shots at Kaleb Sainvire, hitting him three times in the forehead and twice in the heart. The Los Angeles master vampire fell backward with a loud thud by the column Poe was hiding against. His gray eyes remained open with the same stunned look of the blue hats lying dead on the municipal floor.
In shock, Poe didn’t even scream. She wanted to hurl herself on the love of her life and protect him, but she knew that the bullets would pop out of his body after a few minutes. Sainvire was close to indestructible.
“There’s your boyfriend, girl, finally erased from this god-awful world,” chuckled Peter Nesbitt.
Poe took a deep painful breath and closed her eyes. Mom, Dad, Xena, help me. Give me my old confidence back, she prayed. Let Sainvire be alive. Help me do this, Maclemar. With her eyes still closed, she snuck her right hand around the pillar and concentrated. She visualized where Peter Nesbitt’s voice originated from and calculated. She fired once and she heard a tumbling sound. Poe, with self-assurance, walked away from the pillar and approached Peter Nesbitt with halting, pain-filled steps. The dapper man who was sage to Quillon Trench writhed on the floor and clutched his throat.
Without smug words Poe stood over him and fired all 13 rounds into the despot’s face until he resembled pulped pomegranates. Nobody hurts my man, thought Poe while ignoring the pain from her side. She dropped the gun only when the vampire’s legs stopped twitching.
As quickly as her broken ribs would allow her, she walked to Sainvire and sat down on the floor. He hadn’t moved since Nesbitt shot him. Poe examined his heart. The two bullets were ejected by Sainvire’s garlic-immune body. She seethed that Kaleb again came to a gunfight without Kevlar. The three bullets to his forehead were burrowed in his brain. The vampire was unmoving. She stayed with her lover, holding his hand and praying to all her patron saints.
A swarm of people came and went to check on Sainvire’s state of health. Sara and Mina examined him after picking up their brother’s corpse and placed him on one of the wooden tables in the chamber.
“He’s not responding to your voice or to any ministrations, said Mina. “You have to be brave and accept that Kaleb is gone just like my brother Earl.”
Poe shook her head. “He’s not dead. Garlic bullets can’t touch him. See how these two bullets popped out of his chest?”
“But these bullets penetrated his brain. Brain injury is different from—”
“Thanks for your input, but Kaleb isn’t dead! Bullets can take a while to leave his body, that’s all,” said Poe confidently. “I’ve shot him in the kneecaps so many times, and sometimes they took longer to pop out.”
Mina shared a look with her sister. The girl was odd, but shooting Sainvire on purpose? Her own lover? Quietly they left Poe cradling Sainvire’s bald head on her thighs and ignoring the pain at her ribs. Déjà vu, she thought as her lips trembled. First Maclemar then Sainvire. She ran her hands on his bald head and mentally slapped herself. “You’re not dead, Sainvire. I know it, so wake the fuck up!” she ordered. Already she could feel and see black stubble on his head. Kaleb was alive, and she’d kick Xena herself if the warrior said any differently.
Hours passed until Li interrupted her prayers to Sister Ann, Goss, and Megan. “It’s going to be dawn soon, Poe. You have a flight to catch. We’ll take care of Sainvire here,” said the usually callous man in a display of sincere humbleness.
“I’ll take care of him,” said Poe blisteringly. “He’ll wake up. Don’t worry about that. Have someone carry him to the car. Then we can go.”
He’s not dead. We’re just starting our lives together. I don’t believe life can be this cruel. First Maclemar then Kaleb. There’s no way both of them would be taken away from me when the world is finally healing, she thought, biting down tears.
***
Rufus’ usual good humor left him as the body of Kaleb Sainvire was fastened securely in the back of the plane. Poe’s unintelligible chanting which he’d guessed was praying buzzed uncomfortably. A bursting pregnant woman named Lucy and a 50-year-old custodian called Jimena sat behind him. They had been waiting with their meager possessions when he landed the plane at the Mission.
The two claimed that Poe had promised to take them to Los Angeles. Always the doubter, Rufus believed a bomb was hidden in the bulk of Lucy’s stomach and Jimena was a collaborator. After a half-hour, however, Poe arrived with Mina, the short-hair blonde carrying the limp body of Kaleb Sainvire. He helped fasten him onto the back of the plane, and he thanked the pretty vampire. For the sake of assuaging his paranoia, Rufus laid a hand on Lucy’s stomach and jumped when he felt a kick that was definitely no bomb.
“Kaleb, wake up,” said Poe over and over while willing the bullets to leave her lover’s brain. “You can’t leave me. You just can’t.” And her words were drowned by the humming single-engine of the Cessna.
CHAPTER 16
THE MOOD IN THE city was one of mourning. Kaleb Sainvire, their leader and friend to the browbeaten, could enduringly die. Fear reappeared in the residents’ hearts. The vampire was more appreciated now that he might be gone from the world. Like Perla said to Maple, heroes are only appreciated when they die.
The entry wounds on Sainvire’s forehead had closed, but no bullets exited. Joseph sat pensively on a chair by his best friend’s side and held Kaleb’s cold heavy hands. “I met him over 40 years ago,” he said more to himself than Poe who hugged her knees to her chest on the corner of the room. She didn’t deserve to sit on a chair when she was the cause of Sainvire’s death. Still bandaged from the kick to the ribs, Penny curled on the floor. Friends to the last bone, she and Poe had similar injuries.
