Dead Surround - The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles (6 page)

Looking dog-eared, the man slowly walked away. Without a word he swooped down to retrieve the keys and coolly placed them in his pocket.

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Poe glanced at her dog accusingly.

“Where were you, you stupid mutt? One kick and you let him at me,” she said woefully then stuck out her head over the rail and puked.

Shivering and ill from the acerbic taste in her mouth, Poe reached for the bottle of Dimenhydrinate pills and popped ten of them.



“It’s simple, child,” a stout Sister Ann sighed, sitting precariously on the railing with sawed-off shotguns held in each arm, her habit stained. “You can break your thumb and slip your hand out of the clasp.”

“It’s the only way. Or you could gnaw your wrist free,” Goss agreed, his long dark legs draped over the stern. He maneuvered the wheel with one finger.

“You guys are insane. I’m not going to hurt myself like that.”

“Julia, your problem is that you’re a quitter,” the nun intoned in her Tennessean accent, her wimple blowing in the wind. One blundering seagull bumping into Sister Ann and down into the water she’d have fallen.

“When the going gets tough,” Goss said, pole vaulting to the bow. He landed his size seventeen shoe on her chest. “You give up.”

The pressure on her torso took her breath away.

“Uh,” mumbled Poe. “I’ve done my share.

Rescued hundreds of people,” she said, attempting to wrest his foot away.

She could barely breathe.

As another blow landed on her chest, she opened her eyes and awoke. Penny’s little feet pounced on 46

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her chest a third time. This time she pushed the dog off of her. “Cut it out, Pen! What’re you trying to do, kill me?”

Her head hurt, and the nightmare had worn her out.
Must’ve been the motion sickness pills
. Only the salty tang in the air and the usual fear that invaded in the dark felt familiar. Unearthly green reflectors from her dog’s eyes made Penny seem spectral. Poe could hardly suppress a shriek.

Fortunately she didn’t make a sound, for somewhere off the boat, near the bow, Poe glimpsed what appeared to be a flash of light. The small conflagration could have been from a lighter or a quick flick of a match. She instinctively knew that Caveman was asleep in his bunk.

“Shhh now, Penny,” Poe said almost inaudibly.

“You’ve done a good job waking me up. Now be quiet.” She massaged the scant flesh under Penny’s chin. It was the dog’s second favorite spot after the area behind her ears.

The chain allowed Poe a leeway of about four feet. For assurance she took out the pen, uncapped it, and turned it back pointy-side-down in her pocket.

This is the Old West, and I’m the best shot there ever
was.
Julia Poe was not the type to boast about her skills, but she was a natural-born sure-shot.

“I might’ve taught you how to load and shoot,”

Sister Ann had once told her, “But the rest is innate.

You can hit the target instinctively. You’ve got a gift, girl. Never seen anything like it.”

Her heart sank when she saw her umbrella clear across the starboard, nearly ten feet away. The strong night wind had not only removed her blanket, it had also taken away her best substitute for a weapon.

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Quickly Poe extracted the breath-mint spray containing holy water. It would have to do. She positioned herself behind the tarp that covered two barrels of dried fish. Whoever was trying to shimmy the ship was no good. Her gut told her so.

Mom, Dad, don’t let them get me and Penny
, she said fervently. It was close to the only prayer she knew.
Let me live through my twenty-fifth birthday. If
you gotta kill off somebody, the caveman’s ready and
waiting
.

Gasoline hung thickly in the air, exacerbating her headache.

There were two smaller swift boats sidling against either side of Caveman’s vessel she’d taken to calling the Chameleon. The pirates were near enough to thump against the boat if the waves so inclined. Poe could scarcely see, and she prayed the quarter moon would provide more light.

Where the heck is he?
We’re about to get
boarded, and he’s more asleep than the dead
.

Whoever tried to pirate their way onto the boat didn’t try to be quiet.
Do they assume this is just
another boat that’s out of gas?

Voices carried in the wind. Ribbons of conversation floated like the lightest of feathers to tease her ears. She heard fragments of curses, snorting, and unpleasant squealing.
Lots of snorting
and grunting.

“I’m hungry,” a jocular voice said from one of the boats to the other. “Don’t you start without me!”

“Don’t worry, I will,” answered an amused voice from the portside.

“You better not, man! I want the pick of the litter this time. Lemme drop these babies on the 60-footer.

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Then we can chow. I’m sure it’s a ghost ship anyway.”

“No shit. I’ve yet to see a live one,” the other chortled. “And I’ve been doing this for six months.”

“Stick around. You will,” he chuckled. “’Course, all of the action is up north with L.A. upside-down.”

The sound of clicking and clumsy tripping filled the air.
They must be ready to board
.
If I only had my
guns
, Poe beefed. Each bullet had been fortified with garlic oil, fatal to vampires. Active chemicals in the pungent cloves prevented regeneration of flesh and caused a severe allergic reaction to the vast majority of vampires. Garlic was undeniably the most effective weapon against the undead besides blunt damage to the heart and decapitation.

She patted Penny’s head, sticky from the salty ocean spray, and looked painfully toward the stern where the bearded man reposed below deck.
Wake
up, you hairy idiot!

From the portside she saw something shoot up in the air, limbs extending like a ballerina and landing noisily on another boat. The moon illuminated the shadow of movement, and she thought the acrobatic leaper looked to have the figure of a man. Poe blinked the confusion away only to see the same stunt repeated again and again. Somebody was jumping from vessel to vessel with dramatic flair and dropping objects on her boat.

“Let there be light,” a crackling voice said.

Several powerful spotlights from both watercrafts popped to life.

Poe staggered and quickly covered her eyes.

Explosions of lightning and color stabbed her vision.

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She was blinded. She made herself as small as possible, putting Penny before her.

“I know it’s cowardly, Pen,” Poe whispered in the dog’s ear. “But they can’t see me right now.”

When she was able to open her eyes without tearing up, Poe observed the Trampoline Man scooping what looked to be bodies from the two pirate tugboats and depositing them onto Caveman’s boat. The unloading was done quickly and efficiently.

The mound on the floor grew.

Please, Caveman, throw me my guns!
At times like these Poe felt how vulnerably human she truly was.

The mound, only several feet away, began crumbling and fractioning into individual entities.

Clicking noises overwhelmed the night. Trampoline Man had dropped four bodies which were systematically raising themselves from the deck as their damaged bones reassembled in a pattern of clicks. The creatures had holes for mouths that opened and closed as if deprived of air. Their clothes hung like oversized curtains. To say they looked emaciated would be an understatement. They were positively skeletal. Leathery skin and shadows under their eyes enhanced their ghoulish appearance.

“Oh shit,” said Poe, unable to control the fear in her voice.

She’d never seen nightmarish creatures like these before. Even her dog could sense that they were sinister, and she whined in fear.

“Go ahead, Revenents,” said Trampoline Man.

He dangled a piglet by its neck fat. “Sweep up while I have my supper.”

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“Still think those things can understand you?”

scoffed the other man who followed Trampoline Man. “They’re worse than dead. They’re not sentient.”

The Revenents’ rubbery legs were as unaccustomed to the seas as Poe. Slow in every way, these creatures walked like they had elephantiasis of the nether organs, and their bones poked out under stretched leathery skin like branches set wrong on a Joshua tree. They weren’t quite right.

Their thin frames rattled like bags of marbles as their bodies mended the bones that had broken from their graceless landings.
Rancid bacon, that’s what
they smell like
, Poe thought as she caught a whiff.

Again she fought the bile shooting up her esophagus.

Can’t get sick now. Or I’ll be dead for sure. Where
are you, Caveman? I need my gear!

One of the creatures couldn’t quite rise like the rest for it had but one leg. Instead of skulking the little beast crawled to where Poe and Penny crouched. It was the first to notice Poe. Her breathing became labored as she watched what looked like bony matter with loose, spotty skin gain ground. Poe could almost feel the long, curling nails that looked as if they had been cultured in a Petrie dish with special gangrene sauce.

“Hey, Caveman! Wake the fuck up!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring about being seen anymore. Her call was loud enough to alert the Trampoline Man who popped his head from his associate’s boat. He carried two squirming piglets in each arm this time. His chin dribbled blood.

“Herbie,” Trampoline Man said with amusement.

“Check her out. Can you believe there’s a chick on 51

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that boat? There’s never anyone alive on transports we find.”

“Too bad we had us a few pigs already,” Herbie said in an Eastern New England accent, his chunky face disappointed at his gluttony. “Ah well. We can share her tomorrow night. Let’s see how she goes against the Revenents first. This ought to be exciting like ESPN meets American Gladiator.”

“I don’t have your dainty, pussy appetite, Herbie.

I have a hardy palate. Besides, I haven’t sucked on a human in twelve years,” Trampoline Man growled.

“Seems there’s another one in the cabin. I’ll go check it out.”

“No way, man,” cried Herbie. He rubbed his engorged belly. “This is our chance to see a live fight. If you haven’t noticed lately, the world is sooo boring, and we’re patrolling in the dark. Let them at her.”

“She’s chained, you fat bastard.”

“Only one hand,” grinned the bulbous-faced vampire. “A few chunks won’t kill her. Then we can have her later. How about it?”

“I don’t know why I listen to you. You’re a moron. But okay. Just a few nibbles here and there, and then I’m pulling her up.”

Poe had no time to spare for her eager spectators.

She was too busy stomping on the hand that took hold of her Adidas. She used enough force to break digits. Milky dead eyes looked up at her, and the turkey neck of the androgynous creature shook like Jell-O. Oily hair parted in the middle revealed a skull with onion paper skin, and Poe could see the veiny outline of a grayish-puce brain within. The eyes reserved blinks for once a minute.

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“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Poe said aloud to no one in particular, her old habit too deep-rooted to die. “It doesn’t feel pain.”

With much aplomb Poe kicked its head like a soccer ball, cracking the neck bone from the spine.

By all rights it should have been a goner, but its eyes continued to blink as if nothing untoward had happened. The clink clank of fusing bones sounded almost immediately. Behind it a hoard of three sluggishly walked toward her. One of them had a useless stub for an arm.

Please, Dad, don’t let me throw up!

The terrier-mix gnawed on the forearm of the crawling thing on the floor. The one-legged creature was trying to get on its one foot. Surprisingly it succeeded and bounced to balance with every ocean wave.

“Screw this!” she cried, every hair on her body standing up.

Poe extended her unchained hand as near as her attacker’s mouth as she could stand. Showing off its three-inch fangs, it snapped at her. She sprayed the holy mint into its mouth and prayed that the wind would not scatter the garlic essence.

“Sheeekeeee. Sheeekeeee!” the cadaver screamed in an expression of agony.

The one-armed clunker, ahead of the others, slipped once in its haste to embrace Poe. Her lipless face bore a permanent vampiric smile that disturbed Poe more than the other.

“That’s right, you,” she said to Legless who was choking on the spray. Her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. Poe sprayed it again just in case. It 53

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screamed noiselessly and clutched at its throat. Its eyes spelled out PAIN. “Die already.”

Poe grabbed a slimy arm, and using leg strength she hurled the body to the edge of the gratings. The dog tore at the skeletal mess on the floor. Poe shooed her pet and dragged the squirming body to the edge of the rails. She kicked it off the boat with her double-knotted shoe as a bon voyage. The big splash did not lighten her spirits.

One by one the clicking bodies approached. If ever there was a time she needed to use the bucket, it would have been then. Armed with a pen and breath spray, Poe took her stand. Three others locked their unblinking opaque eyes on her.

“Hello, bearded guy! If you’re not dead yet, you will be soon be if you don’t give me my guns. Creeps are headed your way!” Poe yelled. She noticed newly lowered cadavers making their way into the cabin-kitchen area below.

Their bones may have been brittle, but they reformed quite impressively and were as solid as oak as Poe found when she snuck a punch into Plain Ugly’s jaw. Her vaporous eyes looked momentarily cross-eyed, but that was all while Poe’s fist screamed murder. Not so far behind Plain Ugly was a female in an oversized muumuu unfit for her skeletal frame.