know you’re cursing me in one of your people’s languages, Poe,” the nun said with bite. As if talking to the air, Sister Ann added,
“See that, God? The only thing she remembers about the language of her ancestors is filth.”
Once her Walther PPK, aptly named James, and her 9mm Beretta, the only two guns she could handle easily, were safely tucked in her black shoulder holster, Poe’s escalating heartbeat slowed. Back in the days when humans ruled, Poe would have looked like a typical kid: black t-shirt, olive army pants, and long hair in a disordered ponytail. Instead of going to a Radiohead or Death Cab concert, however, Poe and her friends were about to embark on their weekly raids.
While her companions re-checked their gear, Poe opened her battered Bad Batz Maru Velcro wallet and touched the picture of her parents and siblings to her lips. It was a nice shot of the family at the dinner table.
Her two older siblings, Joe and Sirena, were making throw-up faces, Poe was grinning and missing two front teeth, and her mother and father were pretending to gobble down food like hogs. Poe inherited her mother’s semi-wavy black hair, dark brown eyes, arched eyebrows, and slim but sturdy frame. Her father’s nose, full lips, dimples, and light skin that 28
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browned easily completed her looks. Poe remembered them very well. With reluctance, she placed the wallet in two protective zip-lock bags and slipped it in her back pocket. She murmured her usual prayer for courage, “Please don’t let them get me.”
(((
Poe was lucky to be young enough not to remember downtown Los Angeles in all its glory. The silence and emptiness of the streets didn’t depress her as it did her two companions.
Downtown was one big, looted disaster area, not at all like Sister Ann and Goss remembered it. The museums were the first to be ransacked by discerning undead, leaving nothing but the most puerile contemporary pieces for the slowpokes. The Jewelry District came a distant second. Free diamonds were nothing to scoff at, even in death. The staking of buildings came third. Many a vamp died a second death fighting over the Walt Disney Concert Hall, an undulating metallic symphony hall shaped like artichoke leaves.
“Yuppies started buying loft housing along these streets.” Goss shook his head, keeping his voice down.
“These rich clowns had buses re-routed to other streets, just so they could have extra street parking. And the poor bums. Baton-happy cops harassed them to fringes.”
“It’s the lack of familiar smells that gets me,”
Sister Ann changed the subject, her eyes glazed from remembrance. “I remember buying sliced mangos with lemon, salt, and chili along street corners. The old aroma of tamales, roasted buttered corn, and Italian sausage at the Grand Central Market destroyed my 29
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diet. Believe me, Poe, I was much heftier fourteen years ago.”
“Daryl and I would shop the flower and fashion districts racking our brains over where to have lunch –
Mexican food at Olvera Street, okonomiyaki in Little Tokyo, dim sum in Chinatown, or plain old smorgasbord at Clifton’s Cafeteria,” Goss said quietly.
“Now it’s just a matter of w-which expired can of rusty tasting SpaghettiOs to open,” Poe said, feeling like she ought to contribute but could remember nothing much about downtown.
The busy downtown of the past slowed to a stop, covering many of its buildings with tar to keep the sun out for their new tenants.
“Here we are.” Goss looked up indicating the early-20th century three-story brick building that later housed a sweatshop for clothing sold at Wal-Mart.
“Poe, you climb up the fire escape. Sister, you take the elevator, and I’ll take the stairs.” The two nodded.
They knew the drill. Sometimes it was just too easy.
“Watch out for leeches.”
Poe hated leeches almost as much as bloodsuckers. In exchange for keeping their blood intact, these human traitors agreed to be watchdogs over cattle during daylight hours. They supervised the intravenous bloodletting for delivery, making sure the bottles were dated and refrigerated properly.
As an extra perk, they could harass, rape, and torture any humans they wanted so long as they didn’t abuse the livestock too much and weaken their blood flow. They were also allowed to keep whatever loot they could find out on the street. These thugs were usually heavily armed, as they spent their days shooting at cans and vermin to keep from dying of boredom. As heavy drug users, leeches tended to be slow to react and easy to subdue. They glittered with 30