Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles, page 24
She wanted to give Kaleb’s friends the chance to visit him, but she refused to leave the room. Her suspicion that one of them would take Sainvire’s body away and bury him kept her vigilant. The vampire was alive she was sure. Any day now and the bullets will leave his head. The fact that Kaleb was intact and slumbering on his simple full-size bed proved he was still battling. Most vamps would have oozed into jelly and deteriorated by the third day. Kaleb had been reposing for 10 days.
“I met him in a movie theater. It was a Roger Corman flick, I think,” continued Joseph whose signature smile was nowhere to be seen. “We were both shadowing a sadistic vampire who called himself Fulgar and wore a black cape with red silk lining. Total tool,” he said as the top of his lip twitched at the memory. “It was painfully hard to concentrate on finding Fulgar the Disillusioned when a bevy of heavy-breasted beauties on screen distracted us both. Fulgar the Idiot believed himself to be a combination Vlad the Impaler and Jack the Ripper. He’d drain prostitutes and hang their mangled bodies on city landmarks for everyone to see.”
Poe’s haze lifted. Neither vampire had told her how they’d met. Too submerged in her own world, it never occurred to her to ask. “I spotted him, and so did Kaleb. We had to leave glorious breasts the size of melons behind. We followed the freak, and with my speed got to him before Kaleb. When my fellow vamp catcher flew down to corner the bastard, we had a fight on our hands. Then the dilemma of who was going to kill him. ‘Since you already have him, you can kill him,’ he said. I’ve always tried to avoid direct violence, so I insisted he do it. He had those fearsome nails, so why not use them?” Joseph shook his head slowly, and a true smile touched his lips.
“Then what happened?” Poe asked when Joseph didn’t continue.
“We decided to kill Fulgar at the same time. A double homicide, you can say. I was to break his neck, and Kaleb was supposed to nail him in the chest. And so we did it and threw Fulgar’s miserable body in Lake Michigan. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”
“Sounds like a love story,” said Poe with a tired smile.
“It was. I loved him as a brother and vice versa. I was willing to lay my life for him, and it was the same with him. Kaleb had a conscience, and I’d like to think I do, too. We were politically on the same page, and we both loved this country. And then there was Megan.”
“I miss Megan. We all miss Megan,” said Poe, scratching an old scar. She hadn’t bathed since they arrived in Los Angeles, and she was disgusted by the grime under her fingernails, her oily hair, and her redolent scent. She didn’t remove her shoes for fear of suffocating Kaleb and finally killing him off.
“Poe, let Kaleb rest. He’s truly dead. I don’t want to have to see him leaking and turn into a pool of sludge in a couple days,” Joseph said forlornly. “He’s done so much for this city and all of us. He deserves Peace. He can be buried at the cathedral next to Maclemar and Gregory Peck, your favorite men.”
Poe wiped her runny nose on her sleeve. “No. I’m telling you he’s still alive. I mean for a vampire.”
“Morales declared him actually dead,” insisted Joseph. The girl threatened to shoot her old friend and everyone who insisted that Sainvire was gone. Maple, Passionada, Perla, Habib, Rufus, Michelle, Danby, and even Percy tried to plead with her, but her heart knew the truth.
“No!” cried Poe with resentment. “You won’t bury him. I won’t let you.”
“You haven’t eaten in days, Poe. You won’t even drink sodas. I don’t want to say it, but you’re obsessed. You even threaten your friends. And sister, you stink like a four-day-old rat.”
“Shut the hell up,” Poe said snidely. “I have a purpose, and I’m going through with it.”
“Well eat and drink something. No one’s drugged your food or water. Penny’s the proof. That Fanta is still sealed for Pete’s sake.”
Poe wiped her nose on her sleeve once more. She was starving. The trays Habib had left for her contained the most delicious food that caused her stomach to rumble, but the voice inside her head warned her that the eggplant was laced with drugs. A bottled beverage wouldn’t hurt. She needed the sugar for energy. She was about to pass out. Gingerly she reached for the Fanta and the bottle opener and popped the cap. She drank hastily and spilled orange syrup on her already stained pimp shirt.
“Feel better?”
“Lots.”
“I love you, Poe. You’re a sister to me.”
“I love you, too. You’ve been a brother to me since the first,” said Poe. Her voice was breaking.
“Kaleb loved you. I never saw him so happy than when he was with you. His dream was to abscond with you and travel the country backpacking. He was a rugged, earthy man, that Kaleb. But you know he spent too much of his time correcting the wrongs of society and saving cattle instead of pursuing a quiet life. You were the only one that could make him run away from his responsibilities. But he held on and regretted leaving you over and over to save a city and a few souls.”
“Yeah. He left me many times and chose cattle over me. He even left me to go back home broken and beaten. But I don’t care about that stuff anymore.”
“Letting you go took a lot out of him, Poe. He didn’t sleep these past years.”
“Well he’s still sleeping to compensate for the four years of civic duty. He’ll wake up anytime. He can make it up to me then.”
Joseph stood up and walked toward Poe who pointed a Beretta at him. Her hands shook. They felt like rubber, and her vision dizzied her. “He deserves to finally sleep, Poe. Morales needs to tend to your ribs. In five days it will be Christmas, and we’re going to need you there.”
“You drugged me,” accused Poe. She dropped the gun. Her mouth was slack as if her gums had just been injected by Novocain. “I hate—” Penny growled at Joseph as he lifted Poe in his arms. The injured dog cried then followed the ponytailed vampire from Sainvire’s room, her firecracker tail between her legs.
As she slept in a drug-induced state, Passionada bathed her thoroughly, changing the bath water three times. She manicured Poe’s nails and brushed her friend’s black hair until it shone in the light. Passionada’s tears flowed for her friend. Her heart broke at the wrongs fate had dealt her little Poe.
The next day Poe allowed Morales in, and he bound her ribs tightly with cloth. T-Doc who was Poe’s oldest living friend was far from perverse at seeing the girl unclothed. His throat constricted at the many scars on the small woman’s body. Every single mangle, slash, stab, or burn was received while protecting her allies from harm. She deserved retirement. Happiness. But Sainvire was dead, and Maclemar was a memory. Poe was alone. Trying not to lose his composure, he inhaled deeply.
***
Kaleb Sainvire’s body was placed in a crypt next to Maclemar and Gregory Peck as Joseph had promised Poe. The chamber was filled with all sorts of beings paying their respect to the vampire who had sided with humans against tyrannical master vampires. Even a contingent of Christian farmers who had worked with Sainvire to supply humans with fresh meat and vegetables attended the services. The farmers deeply respected Sainvire’s tenacity in freeing human cattle.
“He was our friend, and a magnificent friend Kaleb was,” said Habib, concluding his eulogy. “We thank him for what he’s done for us, and we will never allow his memory to fade. This good man will be remembered forever.”
A small figure in a hooded coat rested her shoulder against the wall of another crypt. Her face was tired as if she had surrendered to the viciousness of life. Before Habib could finish, Poe moved as quickly as she could amidst the mourners and climbed the stairs to the cathedral above. The statues were miniscule inside the vast church sanctuary. Tiny bronze angels hung on the wall. The cross on the altar was small in scale for such a considerable cathedral as if humanizing the man that was nailed on the wood. Quietly she kneeled on one of the pews until her knees hurt. Her mind was silent, and she had nothing to pray for. She stood and left.
***
Under orders from Morales, Percy brought Poe in for a bandage check Christmas Eve. T-Doc seemed nervous. Poe was quiet and docile and would not speak unless prodded. “Here’s some acetaminophen for pain. Take six every four hours. The amount is excessive because they expired 14 years ago.”
Poe pushed the bottle of pills away. “I don’t need it. Thanks.” She stepped down with an impassive face as if she never had broken ribs.
“Don’t be silly, Poe. Broken and bruised ribs hurt like hell. Nearly worse than knee surgery. We’ll have the tree lighting ceremony at midnight. I don’t want you in pain.”
“Don’t worry about it, Morales. I’m good,” she said, stumbling. Percy was there to catch her elbow.
“Damn it, Poe! I know it’s a miserable time, but you have to take care of your health.” Morales, handsome, bowlegged, and reeking of too much aftershave, cared enough to end her pain. But there was no medicine to take away the spike hammered in her soul.
When they left Morales’ office, Poe asked, “Did you get it?”
“Yeah. Here,” said Percy slyly while handing her a stethoscope. “Merry Christmas!”
Poe smirked. “Yeah. Thanks for your present to me. Best present ever.” She parted ways with Percy and took Penny along with her. The two friends hobbled together in the cold like rickety old veterans. They headed for the cathedral and descended to the mausoleum. Poe located Sainvire’s crypt and sat down carefully as she swallowed the pain on her side. With the stethoscope she listened to the marble slab. After half an hour of listening Poe put the stethoscope Percy filched under Morales’ nose in her pocket and left for home.
The two visited Poe’s old war bunker in Little Tokyo and sorted through her possessions. Maclemar had brought the good DVDs to Catalina. Still she found an unscratched copy of The Iron Giant, a duplicate Harold and Maude, and the cheesy ’80s version of Flash Gordon. She also picked up a few Fellini and Bergman films. She left a sack of children’s flicks behind because she couldn’t lift them just yet. She remembered her box of trinkets with real jewelry she had snagged from the Jewelry District and stuffed them in her small pack. The rest of the films were dirty in nature, so she left them. She realized how ridiculous and ignorant she had been and how right everyone was in laughing at her for believing porn was just bad production.
Dirty movies, cuss mouth, stubborn jerk. If she hadn’t insisted on flying to San Francisco, Sainvire wouldn’t have followed her to score bullets in the head. Poe studied her posters of Bruce Lee and Jim Kelly. She loved those posters, but they were part of the past. The most recent years had changed her for better or worse. She needed to find her niche. She needed to stay away from politics and grow up. Now that Sainvire was supposedly dead she crossed her fingers that the city would be administered successfully and the ties with San Diego and San Francisco would be diplomatic.
That afternoon Poe handed Percy her Christmas presents. DVDs and jewelry. All unwrapped. “You’re a good kid, Percy. Happy holidays.” She kissed the top of the girl’s head then went to her room and slept, lightly hugging Penny to her.
She missed Christmas. She slept through carols and the sound of children laughing. Percy spent Christmas with Joseph, Morales, and baby Piper. She was too entranced by the lights and excitement to worry about Poe. She kneeled in front of the fir tree in the middle of Pershing Square and patted her pig. “Let next year be a peaceful year even without Sainvire,” she whispered to Chops. She’d prayed the sentiments of most Downtown inhabitants who were afraid their nice life would end in the absence of their protector.
CHAPTER 17
THEY LET HER ALONE to grieve so she could hopefully return to the old tree-kicking Poe who was afraid of nothing. The vampire hunter walked from her apartment to the crypts everyday as if she was floating in a fog of disbelief. She didn’t hear the greetings of people or the sight of children kicking football in the streets, some merrily learning to ride scooters and skateboards. She’d been approached by the Council to become an ambassador for the City of Los Angeles but she merely shook her head and declined. She was obsolete. She didn’t even wear guns anymore.
A lawn chair would be waiting for her at the tombs. Percy would prepare her lunch and pack her a book as she spent time with the two men she’d loved in her lifetime. Sometimes she’d read to them, mostly American literature since Maclemar was a huge fan, and sometimes she’d sing old songs with made-up lyrics to kill time. Poe figured her grating voice could wake even the dead.
On depressingly cold days, she would be extra maudlin as she snuggled a plush San Marcos blanket about her. She’d removed the ring Maclemar had given her and placed it on top of his tomb. She’d chosen her man, and it was Sainvire.
“I’m sorry, James. I love you, but Sainvire is my life. I’ll always be thankful for your attention and support. I wish you were here but in a selfish way. I wish you could comfort me, but here I go again using you,” she spoke to the other man she loved lying next to Kaleb Sainvire’s resting place. Poe often oscillated in conversation between Maclemar and Sainvire. “If you can just take me for a boat ride right now I’d be incredibly happy. Maybe I can teach Kaleb to drive a boat, and we can go fishing one of these days.”
For three hours she sat in the wintry crypt with her cheek against Sainvire’s tomb. She listened for any movement with the stolen stethoscope. This went on for over three months with no results. Surprisingly Poe was patient about Sainvire’s reawakening.
Some days she would be peevish and angry. “C’mon, you bastard! I know you’re alive. I know you’re only sleeping because you’re bushed from patching up the mess of the world,” she said, her teeth rattling from the cold in late-March. “They’ve moved on without you. They’ve sent cattle by boats and trucks to San Francisco and San Diego to tide them over. Some farmers volunteered to start farms around those cities and teach folks willing to learn about animal husbandry and farming. Nice of them, yeah? This city is doing fine without you, so quit hiding out. Sometimes I hate you so much. I’m always last on your list. I bet you wouldn’t even be so pathetic as me as to double-check if I was asleep or dead in a tomb.”
Her friends approached her several times to join a panel or help out around Downtown, but she repeatedly turned them down. Michelle asked her to work with the police force, and Morales offered to teach her to be a physician’s assistant and eventually a doctor. Desperate, Joseph even egged her to babysit Piper and the other babies in the nurseries. Law enforcement wasn’t for her. She’d end up beating people. Working in the medical field was a no go as she was naturally clumsy. She was good at creating wounds, not patching them up. As for babysitting, forget about it. She knew she’d drop babies on the head, and everyone would hate her.
“I’ve paid my dues,” Poe would answer. “Leave me be.”
All in all she didn’t want responsibility. She’d done her job, and she didn’t know why people wouldn’t respect her wishes. Even Percy took the initiative and walked the animals every morning and night. She fed them on a schedule and made sure their loft was clean. Though disheartened most by Poe’s singular obsession with Kaleb’s rising one day, Percy persevered and became Julia’s connection to the outside world. She didn’t mind taking care of the vampire killer who’d saved her life and treated her like a sister.
And then there were those who persisted in destroying her routine.
One evening John Danby, Maple, and Joseph visited her loft. Poe admonished herself for thinking ill of the situation without hearing the problem beforehand. The spacious and uncluttered loft had powder-blue Eames furniture and space-age orange plastic chairs as homage to Goss who loved ’50s modern décor. The three visitors sat on the couch while Poe lounged on a pod armchair with Penny napping by her feet.
“What can I do you for?” she asked in a patient tone.
The three glanced at each other as if asking who was going to start. Joseph cleared his throat. He was the winner. “Just wondering how you are, Poe.”
“I’m good.”
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you at the meetings,” said Danby with a wince. Poe had never attended any meetings since she returned from San Francisco. “It would be a privilege if you came out just to observe. The government is running more smoothly than we expected.”
“I’m sure you guys are doing a swell job.”
“Er, well we’re thinking about asking you for help,” began Maple uncomfortably.
“Shoot,” said Poe monosyllabically. She reached down to pet Penny who’d completely healed from her broken ribs. “I can’t promise anything. I’ve done what I can.”
“Of course. Well Michelle can’t make it tonight. She really wanted to because she can explain the problem more resolutely,” said Danby. “Michelle’s in San Diego helping rebuild and rewrite law enforcement policies with the adjunct police force there. Competent people were left in her stead, of course. But a gang of leeches who escaped Downtown after Trench died have been terrorizing people from the Westside, burning their crops and abusing the women. They figured that since our best fighters are down that they can get away with trouble. And they don’t know that the people from West L.A. have been under Kaleb’s protection since the inception.”
Poe’s interest was piqued. She had lived in the Westside as a child and again to hide out and retire a few years ago. Many folks who had escaped being cattle and wanted to remain independent from Downtown politics lived there, but they kept their ties and loyalties with Kaleb Sainvire. In fact they had helped provide her with food and protected her from Trench as a favor to the master vampire who’d always been fair to them. Maple as good as implied that not having Sainvire around to bother with little city outposts was a free-for-all.
“How many leeches?” asked Poe in a disinterested voice.
“A dozen or so. All miscreant escapees,” said Maple.
