Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles (37 page)

“I’m so sorry for getting you killed, James.  I insisted on living away from Downtown,
and you humored me.  You were the nicest, most loyal person, and I’ll never forget
you.  You’re probably sick of hearing this, but forgive me for loving someone more
than you.  Thank you for your love and kindness.  I’ll always hold you dear in my
heart,” she whispered to the tides.  She revved the Vespa and continued her journey. 

The PCH mess set her back.  She arrived at a forked road leading to the top of the
hill where the community compound was supposed to be located.  Apparently they lived
on a 60-acre property.  The California contemporary house built by the famous architect,
D’Aury, was kept as a meeting hall while bungalows in chic designs surrounded the
house.  The ongoing threat of vampire visits kept them close-knit.

“Four day vamps, two flying vamps, and the rest standard issue vampires,” Poe said
under her breath.  “Gotta get rid of them first then kill the sleeping vampires.” 
She left her scooter behind a tree and hiked up the mountain.  “Plenty of time.  The
sun sets later in the summer,” she assured herself.

A blur of movement flashed by her.  The creature wasn’t as fast as Joseph because
she could see the outline of his back.  The creature was running away.  Calmly Poe
unsheathed her Rambo knife and hurled it at the back of the day vamp.  The vampire
dropped face-down.  The knife pierced the golden-tanned creature in the heart.  Poe
walked over to him and pulled out her knife.  She wiped the glop on the creature’s
faded jeans and resheathed the knife. 

It’s a nice 75 degrees out here
, Poe thought randomly. 
Why the hell was he running down the mountain like he was getting chased by the chupacabras? 
Only one way to find out.

Poe ran up the steep hill and was glad to know she was still in shape.  She reached
the top where a driveway began and an eight-foot high silver gate blocked the entrance. 
The lock was open and she slid inside the gate with her Beretta in her grip.  She
was sweating but only on her nose. 

She heard laughter and at least 30 voices.  Her heart went cold.  Maple said there
were 14 rogue vampires, and now she was hearing more than double the number. 
I should’ve brought a team.

A boy of about 14 years came out from behind a 5,000-gallon above-ground propane tank
and pointed a gun at her.  Poe wanted to laugh at the absurdity of a kid threatening
her life.  He reminded her of herself.  “Look, boy.  I’m here to help.”

“Put your guns on the ground.  Walk straight ahead,” said the squinty boy with an
unbelievably dark putty tan that hid even his freckles.

“I’m Julia Poe, kid, sent by the Los Angeles Council, and I’m not giving up my weapons,”
she said with a tight smile.  To be killed by a pre-pubescent little boy would have
been fitting.

“I know your name.  You have the scar.  Follow me,” he said.

And there they were, more than 70 of them sitting by the pool, sunning themselves
and talking animatedly.  Nine gurneys lining the pool area contained catatonic recently
bitten humans.  They were sleep tanning as well, it seemed to Poe.  13 bodies, killed
cleanly, lay in a pile like old garbage as children swam in the tremendous Roman-style
pool replete with Doric columns.

So that’s what these privileged folks do while regular folks suffer.  The rich keep
their decadent lifestyle while everyone else fights rape, anemia, abuse, and what
have you.
  She seethed but told herself that she would’ve wanted such a life if it had been
presented to her rather than drinking rainwater and eating from expired cans of yams
in an underground bunker.

“Oh there she is,” said a woman that looked like Goldie Hawn riddled with wrinkles. 
She was as dark as a fresh turd.  She must have been 40, but she easily looked like
she was 60.  She was wearing a tank top, shorts, and flip flops.  “Hello there, Miss
Poe!”

Poe looked around with alarm.  Tribe of Too-Much-Sun confounded her, scared her. 
“What’s going on?” she said, taking some effort to speak.

“All of them are dead, dear,” said Goldie.  “You missed the fun by an hour.  A day
vamp escaped, but that’ll be taken care of later.”

“Was he tan like a weatherman?”

“Why yes!”

“He’s taken care of.”

“Oh my.  You’re just like how he described you.  Thank you.  Thank you!”

Poe still had the Beretta in her hand, and her grip was wilting.  “Who’s he?”

Goldie pointed with her chin at a man lounging on a lawn chair and sipping white liquid
decorated with a pink miniature umbrella.  He was surrounded by teenage girls and
adult women.  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” said Poe under her breath.  Suddenly their
eyes met, his light gray eyes resonating with the reflection of the pool.  Poe broke
contact and slipped the Beretta in her sheath.  Without saying goodbye to Goldie,
she walked hastily away, slamming the gate and nearly running down the hill past the
golden corpse along the way.  The vampire waited by the Vespa with a culpable look
on his face.

Poe ignored him and continued walking to the street until she crossed the highway
and stepped onto the sandy beach.  She stopped when the water was nearly touching
her boots.  She unslung the backpack and procured a water bottle.  She took a long
draught and capped the lid.  Only then did she turn to Kaleb Sainvire, the man who
knew nothing about her.

“I’m glad you handled things, Sainvire,” she said matter-of-factly.  She saw him sit
beside her from the corner of her left eye.  “I was out of my league.  Next time I’m
bringing backup.”

Sainvire was surprised.  Everyone mentioned the fury Julia Poe could unleash when
annoyed.  Instead the woman sat straight back and gazed calmly at the blue ocean. 
“I’ll be your backup,” he said, laying his thick hands on his knee.

“Because you’re muscle, too?”

“That and because I love you.”  He stared into her brown eyes when she turned to look
at him.

Poe laughed a powerful belly laugh that shook her shoulders.  “You don’t have to say
that because everyone keeps telling you that you used to love me.  Seriously, I’m
over you.”

Sainvire rubbed his temple as if he had a headache.  “I hope that’s not the case because
I’ve never been over you.”

Poe’s laughing eyes flickered and became serious once more.  “You remember?”

“I never forgot.”

“What do you mean?”

“I willed those bullets not to leave my temple, Poe.  I pretended I was dead.  You
nearly ruined my grand plan by delaying a burial.  It was damn hard to keep those
bullets from popping out for the 11 days you kept me above.”

The old Poe would’ve become furious, but the new Poe forced herself to listen.  She
studied the scar on his upper lip and felt a pang of hope.  “Why?”

“Because of you,” said Sainvire simply.  “Time and time again, I made you my last
priority because of circumstances that forced me to choose between one person and
many.  I told myself that you will never get hurt again and I will never abandon you.

“People and other beings have become too reliant on me.  They think I can save them
all.  They think I can solve everything instead of taking care of problems themselves. 
Many had reservations that they wouldn’t be able to run a government without me. 
They wanted me to be president, head council, or what have you.  I never liked politics,
yet I was always thrust in the middle.”

“When you were gone our lives ran smoothly with very few bumps,” said Poe, understanding. 
“You wanted to show them that they can lead a democracy without your help.”

Sainvire took Poe’s small hand and massaged it lightly.  “You visited me everyday. 
You read to me.  You talked to me about your childhood and your parents and sang Pixies
songs to me.  And you told me how good Maclemar was.  Each day you reminded me that
you loved me and that you knew I was alive.  Lying in a tomb is no picnic, especially
because I was biding my time.  Many times I was so sick of the dark and the cramped
space that I wanted to punch a hole through the marble.  But then I’d hear your voice,
unfailingly, for three hours a day.  Sometimes you’d nap on your lawn chair and I
would listen to your breathing.”

Poe bit her lip then said snidely.  “I knew you weren’t dead.  Julia Poe is almost
always right, you see.”

“I see,” said Sainvire.  He wrapped an arm about her shoulders.  “I told Joseph about
my plan a couple of months ago.  And now you.  My secret will remain.  I will be the
dodgy, perhaps incompetent master vampire returned from the dead.  I’ll take muscle
jobs with you as my partner.  We’ll protect each other.  And most of all we’ll always
be together.”

Poe reached for his neck and brought his mouth down to hers.  They kissed softly then
with passion.  When their lips parted, Kaleb said, “I promise never to leave you again,
Julia Poe.  I promise you will be first in everything.”

The vampire killer couldn’t help but cry, and she covered her face with her hands. 
It had been a long road, and the world had changed before her eyes.  She could not
deny that she had a big hand in the changes, and so did Kaleb Sainvire.  But they’d
given every ounce of their spirit, and it was time for the two underground resistance
fighters to live their lives. 

The lovers held hands like they were holding onto dear life, waiting for the infamous
Southern California sun to set.

The End