Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles (2 page)

Maclemar seethed with anger directed at himself.  Poe had been living without heat
or electricity since he’d left, and her rough lifestyle made him feel like a heel. 
“I’ll take care of it, sweetheart.”  He grabbed a tool box from under the kitchen
sink and put on his rain slicker. 

Maclemar, an exceptional mechanic and repairman, went outside to have a go at the
generator.  “Poor girl,” he whispered to himself.  Pain suddenly inflamed his entire
body.  The woman he loved had turned into a fearful hermit.  She’d been so magnificent
once, destroying Revenents and vampires with her eyes closed.  There hadn’t been anyone
like her with her fierce fighting skills and tenacious love for her friends.  He recalled
the girl running through an ocean of Revenents, non-sentient walking dead that could
reform broken bones to repeatedly attack, to rescue Michelle and him.  Without pause
for her safety, Poe had tried to reach the farmhouse where the last of the fighters
holed up to protect Megan who was dying from childbirth.  Trench’s henchmen outnumbered
her friends.

  Her legend had grown on the mainland.  She had rescued hundreds of cattle and protected
revolutionaries fighting against Trench, master vampires, and Vampire Council members
who had been angling to keeping human slavery alive for their bloated self-interests. 
The city needed Poe.  A symbol of hope.  Sainvire had asked him to deliver a letter
and convince Poe that she was needed back Downtown. 

“No matter how much she refuses, you’ve got to get her back to L.A.,” instructed Kaleb
Sainvire before Maclemar left.  The vampire’s hair had grown to the nape of his neck
and stubbles freckled his face.  The man responsible for distributing Plasmacore was
neck-deep trying to keep Downtown and its residents afloat without a return to violence.

“I’ll try my best, Kaleb,” said Maclemar.

Sainvire’s gray eyes bore into his green ones.  “Don’t try, my friend.  You have to
do it.  I don’t care if you have to hogtie her in your boat.”

Maclemar didn’t envy Sainvire’s task.  Being an idealist could kill a vampire.

***

Clutter spread over the kitchen sink and dining table.  Maclemar petted Penny’s bloated
stomach on the floor while gazing up at an equally satiated Poe.  Maclemar hadn’t
seen anyone gulp down food like that in a long time.  The girl took down three bowls
of his seafood porridge, and he felt good about himself.  He was feeling remorseful
for being away for so long.  He tried to visit once a month, but his duties had absorbed
his time for weeks on end.

He studied Poe.  The indomitable girl he knew was no more.  In her place was a woman
unsure which steps to take next.  Julia Poe was one of the most attractive women he’d
ever met, not only because of her unusual beauty stemming from a multiethnic background
of Scot-Irish, Japanese, Mexican, and Filipino.  Her grit was near palpable however
much she claimed to have lost her fighting prowess.  She was tough and caring despite
her pleas for a solitary existence. 

The five-inch scar on her face and the multitude of cuts, whip marks, and bullet holes
in her body gave her the right to live as she wished.  She’d done so much for what
was left of humanity, and she earned bitter little in return.  The diminutive Poe
stood a little over five-foot-three but seemed so much larger because of what she’d
accomplished by the young age of 26.

“Er, Poe.  I must apologize for not visiting sooner,” he said.  He ran his eyes over
Poe’s damp waist-length black hair.  The girl always tied her hair in a ponytail. 
If it weren’t for the fact that Poe was drying her hair by the fire, he’d never have
seen the rare sight.  “I’ve been indisposed.”  The muscular man of over six feet in
height looked uncomfortable.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Maclemar,” said Poe.  She rubbed her stomach like
a pregnant woman expecting a kick from little feet.  A man that could cook like Maclemar
would make a young woman giddy-toed someday.

“Yes, I do.  The thought of you here by yourself without heat in the middle of winter
freezes my heart.  I should’ve checked the electricity and the—”

“I’ve been alone most of my life, mister.  Don’t get all dramatic.”  She’d fended
for herself since age eight in vampire-infested Downtown Los Angeles until Sister
Ann and Goss took her under their wings and taught her how to defend herself.

“I’m not being dramatic.  You know how I feel about you,” he said uncomfortably.

“Yeah, well I don’t think I can handle a relationship with a man or vampire ever again. 
Anyway, what’s so important in the mainland?” Poe changed the subject.

“Sainvire asked me to start a school for the children of victims we found in blood
farm nurseries.  Unbelievably there are over 200 of them from toddlers to 12-year-olds. 
I started a curriculum in the autumn.  I have to say I love my job.”

“I can see you as a teacher,” said Poe.  Her dimples showed, and Maclemar couldn’t
help but grin.  “Plus, all those American Lit books you’ve read ought to come in handy.”

“Yes.  They should,” he said.  The Welshman had been working on a degree in American
Literature when the Gray Armageddon poisoned most of humanity.  He rose from the floor
and reached into his pack by the fireplace.  He took out a letter in a plain white
envelope.  In a broadcaster voice he said, “This is the moment you’ve been waiting
for, love.”

“Ah.  I thought you were on my side, Caveman.” Poe reached for the letter and shook
her head.  The envelope wasn’t sealed and had the word “Julia” written on it with
masculine old-fashioned script.  Poe unfurled the letter and read to herself:

Dear Julia, 

I hope you are in good health.  I often think about you.  I understand how that must
sound since I haven’t come and visited you since we evacuated the island.  I would
like to say, however, that my feelings for you haven’t changed.  Circumstance has
a knack for keeping me away from your side.

Calm confusion is the tone in Downtown.  We are finding ways to bring vampires and
ex-cattle to support certain causes.  Our mission is to persuade cities around the
neighboring states to free blood slaves and utilize Plasmacore as the main food source. 
The other (more difficult) goal is for the living and dead to get along.  For now,
Plasmacore in lieu of blood is accepted and surprisingly rather enjoyed for its benefits
like being able to stay in the sun and the gift of strength.  To humans, having vampires
strengthened and out 24 hours a day is a nightmare naturally.  A faction of ex-cattle
is organizing to convert themselves into vampires so they can protect humans from
undead predators.  They will be the new police force if they have their way.  I haven’t
decided whether this is a good idea or not.  In any case, humans have started paying
vampires to turn them into the undead.

On to positive news.  Our campaign to lure vampires from other cities is coming to
fruition.  The deal is for them to bring at least three humans or children in exchange
for Los Angeles citizenship and a decent place to stay. 

Morales started a hospital at the Biltmore Hotel where most of the old timers are
living, including me.  He’s also training volunteers to care for wounds, infections,
rotten teeth, and what have you of every willing human Downtown.  You know how Morales
is.  He’s still T-Doc to everyone.  He and Joseph (with help from Habib and Passionada)
devote much time to raising little Piper despite their harrowing jobs.  Joseph (who
says hello by the way) is in charge of distributing Plasmacore and propaganda leaflets
to other cities with Rufus who flies him everywhere.  Michelle is in charge of security,
and even hard-edged vamps fear her.  They consider her your protégé.

I’m sure Maclemar can fill you in if you have any questions about our friends.  For
now I must ask you to keep an open mind.

We get an exodus of both vampires and humans to our city expecting a new, safer life. 
Because of nearly two decades of heinous vampire acts, trust is of course close to
non-existent on the human side.  You have become almost a legendary symbol for the
humans, a Joan of Arc.  You’ve never been bitten or turned into a blood slave.  You
have destroyed the most powerful vampires and freed hundreds of human cattle.  We
need someone like you to help keep the people calm while we organize the city into
a safer, habitable, more productive place. 

We need your expertise to forge a new world where Piper can be safe and prejudice
is curtailed by respect and understanding.  I know, dear Julia, that you think I’m
nothing but a sentimentalist and a follower of lost causes.  Perhaps you’re right,
but these are strange days.  If we could fix things now and make it better for the
next ten years, then all the suffering and sacrifice would be worth it.

Please consider my request.  I am out of ideas.  I want the powder keg to be stoppered. 
I believe you can help me.

With much love,

Kaleb

Poe crumpled the letter and threw it in the fireplace.  Temporary solace came to her
when the fire consumed the thin pieces of paper.  Kaleb was asking too much of her. 
Didn’t she deserve to be left alone after all she’d done?  She simply wanted to stay
on the island and watch bison for the rest of her life.  Was that too much to ask?

“You know what’s in the letter?” she asked a pensive Maclemar.

“Yes.  He asked me to read it.”

“Well it’s a bullshit long-winded letter, my friend.  I deserve this retirement.”

“Lots of people deserve peace, Poe,” he said quietly.

“Well I was fodder for Trench and his vampire pals after my back was whipped.  They
fed on my blood like caviar.  That ought to be payment enough.”

“My flesh was cut and my blood drunk,” answered Maclemar.  He became human sushi when
vampires found out they could partake of his blood without turning the Welshman into
catatonic blood cattle.

Poe banged on the wooden table with her fist.  “What is this, a goddamn competition? 
I was sexually tortured then shot in the heart for fuck’s sake!” 

“No one’s questioning that, love.  We just need help on the mainland.  Badly.”

“Forget it.  Downtown is a bad memory.  My parents, brother, sister, Goss, and Sister
Ann all died there.  I was mistreated.  I hate that miserable place!” she spat.  “In
any case it would be stupid to suddenly make an appearance when I can’t shoot worth
shit and I’m afraid of everyone.  Of being abducted again.  And how dare Sainvire
bring Piper into the picture?  The son of a bitch knows I feel guilty enough for neglecting
her.”

Maclemar kneeled in front of Poe’s chair and took her hand.  “If you don’t want to
go, you don’t have to.”

“But you’ll think badly of me,” she said, her brown eyes studying his emerald ones. 

“Never,” he said.  He kissed her hands.  Whatever you do, I’ll always be proud of
you.  You’re my best friend and the person I love the most in this fuckall world.”

***

She heard Maclemar lightly snoring in the next room.  After putting the world’s ills
on her shoulders once more, Sainvire had wrecked her sense of peace.  How could she
go back when people knew what happened to her in Quillon Trench’s hands?  She may
have killed Trench, but not before he had debilitated her with the worst form of humiliation.

Penny snorted in her sleep, and Poe combed her coarse firecracker fur.  The dog must
have been about 15 or 16 years old.  She didn’t really know. 
Maybe I should go back Downtown just to be near Morales in case Penny gets sick
.  She slapped her forehead for even thinking about returning. 
I don’t owe anyone anything!
  Carefully she lifted the blanket and snuck out of bed in her Keroppi pajamas.  Barefoot,
Poe padded into Maclemar’s room. 

Her friend’s left arm draped off the bed.  He was shirtless.  For the briefest moment
Poe felt desire, but it was quickly quelled by unpleasant memories.  She slid in bed
with Maclemar and used his extended arm as a pillow.  She hugged him under the blanket
and thought about how she couldn’t live without him. 

“Hey, Caveman,” she said out loud, shaking him when he wouldn’t budge.  The man was
a heavy sleeper.  She had nearly been picked apart by Revenents because Maclemar was
too busy snoring below the deck of his boat.  “Wake up!”

Confused and disoriented, Maclemar’s eyes opened wide.  “Huh?  What?”

“I need to talk to you, James,” said Poe, plucking a chest hair near his nipple.

“Ouch!” he yelled.  “Then talk!”

“Geez, you’re not even grateful that I’m sharing your bed.”

Maclemar realized this was so and smiled his approval.  “Come to think of it, I’m
very grateful.”  He kissed her forehead.

“Don’t pester me.  I just can’t sleep, and I want to be held tonight.”

“Fine with me, love,” he said in half-brogue.  He laid his big hand on her flat belly. 

Poe scratched the hairs on his chest distractedly.  He smelled salty like the sea. 
The man was mad about boating, and she knew that if she’d asked him to stay with her
on the island, he would.  Of course he’d regret it eventually for forsaking all those
children who needed educating.

“What should I do?”

Maclemar sighed.  “I can’t answer that for you, love.  It wouldn’t be fair to you
or me.”

Knowing her friend was right, Poe remained silent.  The choice had to be hers alone. 
“Sorry for putting pressure on you, bub, but I’m feeling like shit right now.”  Before
he could say something, Poe continued.  “My confidence is gone, James.  I have the
shakes, and the thought of being around vampires scares the shit out of me.  The way
I see it, Kaleb wants me to be a propaganda piece.  The human to his vampire.  And
to tell you the truth I haven’t quite got the Queen Elizabeth wave down.  I’m not
ready for my close-up.”