Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles (24 page)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, fool.  But you best get out my face.”

“Did Sainvire send you?” Bradley persisted.

“Who’s that?”

“Oh c’mon.  Now I know you’re full of shit.  Everybody knows who Kaleb Sainvire is.”

“Well I don’t,” said Poe, combing her mustache.  “You go away now.”

Suddenly, Sainvire was next to her, shoving her away from the car.  “What are you
doing harassing my custodian?”

“Not harassing but inviting,” said Bradley, the heavily lined driver.  “You really
are a skinhead.”

“I’m not a skinhead.  Just bald.” corrected Sainvire.  “I don’t go for that Aryan
bullshit.”

“We know you’re behind all the fireworks,” said the Asian.  He rolled his eyes.  “Listen,
I’m sick of this roundabout nonsense, so why don’t you two just get in?”

“You’ve been following us all day,” said Sainvire.  “What the hell do you want?  Kill
us?”

“Hell no,” said the Asian man.  “We want to invite you to our headquarters.  We’re
the underground.”

***

The pine scented flavor of the hearse was the smell of death.  Poe kept as far away
from the leather back car seat and cracked the window open despite Li’s order to keep
it shut.  “You close the window there, my man, and I’ll blow your head back to Nosferatu,”
threatened Poe.  She’d seen the hearse carry corpses all day, and she was sickened. 

Sainvire reached for her hand and squeezed.  Though far from comforted, Poe nevertheless
clutched tight. 

“Where are you taking us?” asked Sainvire.

“To City Lights Bookstore.  We built an underground hotel close by.  It looks shitty
on the outside, but it’s state of the art inside,” explained Bradley.

“How many people are in your network?” asked Poe.

“Over 500.  Minus the custodians and the blood slaves, Nesbitt is left with about
the same headcount on his side.  And for those 500, most are ambivalent or they don’t
care enough to rescue cattle.”

Poe changed the subject.  “Are we almost there?  I might throw up in your car.”

“Almost there, dear one.  We just have to make a right here then we’re set.”

Poe opened the door before the car braked to a complete stop at the crossroads of
Chinatown and the Italian neighborhood of North Beach.  She inhaled fresh San Francisco
air to clear her lungs from the foulness of death.  “We better go,” urged Bradley
who led them inside the pitch dark bookstore.  Li drove the car far away.

The City Lights door opened and shut quickly once the three of them were safely inside. 
The lights were turned on and Poe frowned.  As she expected, the bookstore windows
were tarred to keep the lights out.  Only a few books were arranged on the bookshelves,
but a hell of a lot of vampires and humans lounged on couches as they took in the
newcomers.  The bookstore looked more like a multileveled series of living rooms.

“Famous and not-so-famous writers from the Beat Generation graced this bookstore,”
said Bradley.  “This was an institution for great books.”

Poe nodded and thought,
so this is what a hippie pad looks like
.  They followed Bradley up steep stairs and into a less crowded room with three women
and five men waiting for them.  A lovely 40-year-old human with hazel eyes and fine
bone structure stepped forward and introduced herself as Jane. 

“I’m James Maclemar,” said Sainvire.

“I’m Superfly,” said Poe.

One of the black vampires rolled his eyes.  “You’re demeaning us by using such a foul
name and wearing caricature clothes, my brother.”

Poe reddened but stuck out her chin.  “Superfly had pride and wasn’t afraid,” defended
Poe.  “Besides, I’m Blaxican.  If you don’t like my fashion, I don’t like your motherfucking
vest outfit and red headband with a feather sticking out, either.  What are you, some
kind of black Tonto?  Stripper?”

Everywhere she went it seemed that she got lectured by politically correct dingbats. 
“Alright, people, cool off.  We’re in the same fight,” said Jane. 

Sainvire pushed back his hood and surveyed the place.  Before he could say anything,
Jane pulled out a Beretta with a silencer and plugged Sainvire four times before Poe
could dislodge the gun and viciously snap back her wrist.  Bone shards resembling
icicles protruded from her arm.  The woman screamed her hurt, and Poe was immediately
surrounded.

Poe went after the Black Indian and let fly a wrist knife, tagging him on the shoulder. 
The humans backed away, and Bradley put up his hands in surrender.  “Superfly!  This
wasn’t supposed to be.  Believe me, I don’t know why Jane shot him.  Put away your
gun, please!”

“You shit!” she threatened the woman. “If you hit him in the heart, I’ll kill you!”

Sainvire was slumped on the floor as Bradley and Poe pulled off his shirt and sweatshirt
over his head.  Poe always thought Sainvire had a worker’s body.  There was nothing
soft about him.  His crooked shoulder was glaring under the fluorescent lights. 

The woman had fired at closed range, hitting Sainvire’s liver, kidney, shoulder, and
his heart.  Poe bashed the wall behind Sainvire’s head with her fist and screamed. 
“You fucking killed him, lady, and I’m gonna get you for this.”  But Poe didn’t budge
from where she was kneeling.  She took Sainvire’s head and laid it gently on her lap.

“Why would you do such a thing?” asked Poe quietly.  “We came to help, that’s all.”

The woman bit her lower lip.  “I’m sorry.  I thought he was a skinhead trying to take
us down.”

“He’s no skinhead!  He’s Kaleb Sainvire.  You have no idea how many people he’s saved. 
And he’s my—”

The intake of breath in the room was palpable.  “Oh my gosh!” said one of the female
humans that looked like Daphne from Scooby Doo.  “I noticed his gray eyes before. 
And there.  He has a cleft lip and a broken shoulder.”

Poe sniffed and corrected the girl.  “He injured his face fighting Franco in Spain. 
That’s from shrapnel.”  Her heart was bleeding out and her head sped ahead to a life
without Kaleb Sainvire.  She bit her lip to keep from crying.

Bradley covered his hands with his face.  “What have we done?  I’m so sorry, Superfly.”

Her heart thudded in misery, and for some reason she didn’t like being called Superfly
anymore.  She peeled off her itchy mustache and even itchier wig and let her greasy
hair fall about her face.  “My name’s Julia Poe.  I’m incognito and miserable right
now.”

A collective breath escaped.  The great phenomenon that was Julia Poe was sitting
on the floor looking dazed as she hugged Kaleb Sainvire’s head to her.  “We’ve put
up Christmas trees, lights, and a skate rink for the kids, you see.  They haven’t
experienced holiday festivities before.  We have more kids now than ever since we
rescued most of them from San Diego,” said Poe, blabbering to keep her heart from
pounding painfully. 

“And then Nesbitt was going to send in his people to go to L.A. and destroy Christmas
for everyone.  We just want the children to live happy lives.  I want to live a happy
life and have Christmas all year long.  I just want to love this man until I die of
old age.”

Sainvire’s hand twitched and the four bullets on his body began to pop out.  “But
he was shot in the chest with garlic bullet!” said one of the people in the room.

“Kaleb!” cried Poe.  “I love you so much!”

The vampire sat up like he’d just woken up and calmly looked around the room.  He
noticed the woman named Jane crying and clutching at her wrist.  “Bradley, get someone
to tend to that woman.”  Bradley nodded and had her escorted out by Daphne. 
Always thinking of others to the last
, thought Poe proudly.

“How the hell did you do that?” asked Bradley.  “Vampires die of garlic poisoning!”
“I was a guinea pig for a garlic study over 10 years ago.  Long story, but I’m pretty
much immune.”

“But your heart.  You were shot in the heart,” said Poe.

“I can only thank Plasmacore for that, love.  It’s made me a stronger force to deal
with.”

“You shit!  You didn’t wear Kevlar again!”

“Sorry.  Percy dressed me,” apologized Sainvire.  Poe shook her head for she couldn’t
talk.  She had forgotten to bring a vest herself.

The black vampire Poe knifed in the shoulder sputtered, tossing over the wrist knife
to Poe who caught it with her left hand.  With a horribly gasping voice he asked,
“If we drink enough Plasmacore, we can become like you?”  His shoulder was burning
from the garlic oil residue from Poe’s knife.

Sainvire reached for his flask, uncapped it and drank the substance for a long time. 
He stood up and placed the empty flask back in his pocket.  “I would say so,” he answered,
reaching out a hand to Poe.  The girl took his hand in a daze and stood up.  Everyone
was drawn to the holes that had been extinguished and shook their heads in disbelief. 

“You beheaded those Council people?” asked Bradley.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to get Nesbitt, too?”

“If I can,” he said.  “But I think your people should handle that problem.  You don’t
want outsiders to free your city.”

“Believe me, we have a plan.  We have people working within the Council chambers just
waiting for the right moment to strike.  And once the pieces are in place, we have
teams to liberate humans and take care of them until they wake.”

Bradley was getting too excited disclosing the underground’s plan.  Sainvire raised
his hand.  “I’m glad you’ve thought things through.  I look forward to having friends
and allies in this city.  But now I’d like to go to the hotel for a short rest.  We
can talk around 3 a.m. if you wish.  I heard there are ships Nesbitt’s trying to outfit
that Poe and I will need to blow up.”

***

Fear could mess with the mind.  Poe’s hands quivered as she remembered the bullet
lodged in Sainvire’s heart.  By all accounts, the vampire should have been permanently
dead.  She thought she’d lost him, and it hurt like hell, like she wanted to die,
too.  His regimen over a decade ago of small doses of garlic oil injected in his system
had made him violently ill.  It took years for his body to finally accept the bite
of the pungent allium sativum and its poisonous properties.  To her knowledge, Sainvire
and Joseph were the only ones who’d ever participated in the study. 
Thank goodness for Perla and her experiments. 

The vampire didn’t have a clue that Poe suffered from his near death.  He didn’t understand
when she wouldn’t speak to him after Bradley showed them to their large bohemian room. 
Different colored sarongs from Indonesia decorated the walls, and hand-braided rugs
covered the floor.  Bradley handed them a stack of towels.

“Three in the morning.  We’ll all be upstairs.  I really can’t believe you guys are
here,” he said as he shut the door behind him.  “Legends.”

Poe had disappeared into the bathroom with two towels.  She preferred two towels always
for her hair and body.  She had never liked the way water coursed down from her wet
hair onto her drying body.  She turned on the water as her teeth were clattering and
shed her clothes as quickly as she could.  When she was a kid, her mother had to bribe
her to take baths after an afternoon in the dirt.  She hated being clean.  A tomboy
to the last.  Ever since the vamps ruled the earth, however, she couldn’t loofah her
skin enough.

“You okay there, Poe?” asked Sainvire as he knocked on the door.

“Yeah.”

“Can I join you?”

“No way.  Please leave me alone,” she said with desperation.  Poe walked into the
tub and shut the vinyl shower curtain behind her. 
This is a first
, she said to herself. 
Panic attack.  I didn’t even have this when Trench fucked around with my body and
mind. Or when Maclemar died.

She poured shampoo on her palm and lathered her hair.  Her hands were those of a crack
addict.  Poe reached for the newly opened bar of Irish Spring soap, her very favorite,
and dropped it on the floor of the tub.  The soap slipped from her unsteady hands
five more times until she completed her task.  She wiped her skin with a face cloth,
and the brown tanning chemicals stained the white towel brown.  The sight of her skin
losing its nice tanned color undid her.  The tint was supposed to last eight days
but was fading quickly. 
Must be the age of the lotion.

Poe slipped on the tub and hugged her knees.  She covered her mouth so Sainvire’s
superhearing wouldn’t be able to detect she was crying.  The reality of bad things
bound to happen to everyone she loved chipped at her courage. 
One day Percy and Piper will die along with Joseph and Morales if Nesbitt gets his
way.
 
Hell, Christmas could be cancelled anytime because of bitter old vampires clinging
onto their glorious past
.

The vampire hunter cried quietly and urgently as if she herself was dying from the
heavy weight of the world.  She didn’t see him kneeling next to her until she opened
her eyes to let some more tears escape and blend in with the shower water.  She sputtered,
nearly screaming at Sainvire’s bald head staring at her.  Julia Poe had never been
a cry freak, and she held herself in check.  She tried so hard that her face turned
livid red.  Her hands covered her face.

“Poe, my love.  Please don’t cry.  I’m never going to die on you.  I promise.”

The girl couldn’t speak.  She turned her face away from his and hugged her knees to
her chest.  Sainvire’s eyes rested on the girl’s slick back.  Suddenly his incisors
elongated.  The lash scars on her back boiled Sainvire’s already virulent mood.  Trench
had succeeded in marking Poe’s back during her humiliating time in his lair. 

When he had learned that Poe was still alive, a rescue mission was carried out.  He
found three vampires scooping blood from her freshly whipped wounds.  Julia Poe’s
usually fearless face was lifeless as if her soul was broken.  Staring at Poe in the
tub looking so fragile and wretched, he wished Trench was still alive so he could
gut the son of a bitch and present his head to Julia.