A couple times, Morales stumbled, but he corrected his balance without incident. The desperate voices grew shriller as they pushed on.
A movement from the ceiling caught Poe’s eyes.
As the objects drew nearer, Poe recognized three toddler babies with sharp fangs and darting tongues slithering on top of them.
“Oh, Jesus!” Poe coughed her skin alive with goose bumps. She unlatched the safety on the Astra 300
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and prayed that she could aim with the frog glasses on.
Her hands trembled from fear.
“What’s going on? What do you see?” Morales asked, scared shitless from being so blind despite their portable lights.
“Babies on the ceiling,” Poe said, swallowing deeply. “Brace yourself. I’m going to shoot them down.” She added, “Whatever you do, don’t flash the lights in my eyes.”
Because she didn’t want those creatures any closer than they already were, Poe shot at all three from twenty feet away. The first two bullets went awry but by the third, Poe’s instinctual shooting skills kicked in. The creatures squealed demonically as they fell to their deaths.
Even Morales shrieked, as Shaft would have put it, like a motherfucker, when the babies with sharp yellow nails fell on the tracks. From that moment on, both of them were alert like rabbits, scouting every wall nook and cranny for more of the same vermin.
“I heard they exist,” Morales said, cringing.
“Some were sucked by greedy vampires when they were babes and turned, and the rest are products of vamp-on-vamp love. Some stay in baby bodies and some actually grow up, so I hear. Disgusting!”
“I can walk now, Sam.” Poe tapped his head.
Ahead was a wall of babies, child vampires, and deformed halfdeads herding cattle into a nook. These cattle laggers were the slowest and weakest, the ones left behind by their group. The babies formed a monkey chain, looping their elbows together until they could torment the humans from inches away. She saw a particular hanging baby dart out its reptilian tongue and lick at a cut on the forehead of one of the cattle hanging on a thread of consciousness. Even in the dark, Poe could tell that the toddlers were filthy little fiends, 301
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bred and born in the tunnels because of their parents’
shame.
Sainvire’s people decorated the sticky ground.
Cattle or not, some of the humans were awakening from their heavy languor. The sight of a demonic baby lifting and sucking an adult body dry could awaken anyone.
“Okay, Poe, but if you need to run, let me know and I’ll give you a ride,” Morales said, his voice at the breaking point. Mr. Macho was scared shitless. He shook like an old washing machine on rinse. Like Poe, he had never seen anything like that before. He had always been the planning and logistics guy, not a vampire and dead baby killer. While Poe was on his back, he had actually felt safe. Now he was close to pissing his pants.
A munchkin vampire spotted them, opened its mouth, and let out a sharp hiss that alerted the other beasties. Soon the group of impish kids, babies, and adult vampires re-grouped, surrounding cattle and using them as human shields against possible retaliation.
Poe slid to the ground, ignoring the pain in her ankle. “Morales, can you shoot dead on?”
“Wwhat?” Morale stuttered. “I’m not a crack shot.
Not in the dark. No, not at all!”
“Are you comfortable enough to shoot those baby things instead of the big cretins circling the cattle?”
“Nnoo!”
“Then just aim for the ones on the ceiling, okay?”
she ordered, taking the holy water from his jacket and handing it to him. “And when they get close, spray them until they fry.”
With her own bottle, she sprayed a circle around them. “Just remember, they’re barefoot and naked.
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This stuff is like boiling oil to them. Spray the ground if you have to. And don’t leave the circle.”
She hooked the bottle back to her belt. In her left pocket, she took out a plastic water squirt gun shaped like a neon pink turtle. Procuring a plastic mouth protector she found at the Mexican shop, Poe stuffed it in her mouth. “There’s no way I’m getting a chipped tooth today.” She took the high-pressure gun and squirted the ceiling. Two babies fell screeching in agony.
“Shoot, Morales. Shoot!” Poe ordered her seemingly frozen partner.
With much trepidation, he did, the flashlight in his other hand shaking.
She grunted her approval and stuck the plastic toy gun in her left pocket again. Her eyes never leaving the