thick wad of bodies on the ceiling that were carefully avoiding the holy water line, she shot her automatic upward. Many fell hissing, but the creatures were like ants, reforming and continually prodding on.
Her breath caught in her throat. The little girl she had seen earlier was snagged in the air by four linked baby vamps. The girl, used to a hellish existence, did not scream, but her dirty face looked petrified as if stuck in a nightmare.
“Ready?” Poe asked, fearful for the child.
“Yes,” Morales answered. His voice was a little stronger and less nervous after he’d damaged his first two vampire babies.
“Now!” Poe shot at the linked vampires until they lost their hold on the girl. Poe prayed that the child did not break any bones. She looked so brittle.
Next she went after a throng of adult vampires that looked like the siblings of the Elephant Man surrounding about twenty cattle. Her automatics blasted at the first line of defense, and with the Glock 303
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in her left hand she aimed at the rear guard, babies and adults using humans as shields.
She took out the vampires and babies shot by shot with deadly accuracy, replacing clips as she went. A bullet rent the arm of a human. Poe’s concentration faltered at the error and for the unmistakable human wail as he fell.
Next to her, Morales shot upwards, mostly hitting his targets. Some of the enemy, however, moved so swiftly that they were able to dodge the Magnum’s force.
“I’m out of bullets,” Morales cried in panic.
“Need to reload!”
Cursing, Poe reached for the Uzi from her partially opened pack and threw it at Morales. She did not see the three-link vampire baby chain looped behind her. By the time she realized it, two of them had jumped on her head, and another set of six fell on Morales.
Both toddlers scratched Poe’s scalp and neck with their grimy nails before sizzling from contact with her blessed skin. She wasn’t aware of her advantage, however, because she was so disturbed by the close proximity of the baby vampires to her face that she lost it. Morales’ blood curdling screams didn’t help.
Flicking out the oil-blessed wrist knives on either hands, Poe stabbed the two devilish chubbies over and over until their little hearts were punctured. Only when the smoke cleared did she fall back to earth.
She looked over to Morales, trying to disengage the little claws of six fiendishly uncute cherubs that had dug into his skin. The only problem – the hands were welded to him because of the recent application of holy water. Poe hobbled over to where he lay.
“Get off him!” yelled Poe. She squirted the creatures, and they bawled like chicken on the 304
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slaughter wheel. The blessed water melted flesh like candle wax.
With one fat thumb she pulled the hammer of her Glock, stopping any more babies from jumping on them. With the other hand flashing her sparkling new Rambo knife, she sliced away the parasitic vampire hands stuck on Morales’ flesh. Morales scrambled to his feet.
“Scrape the hands later, Morales!” Poe yelled over the gunfire, the mouthguard garbling her voice. “Grab the frikkin’ Uzi and kill vampires!”
Despite his state of shock, Morales did as he was told. He fired at the slithering abortions with desperation and surprising accuracy. Poe resheathed her gummy knives and reloaded her firearms. She hobbled closer, careful to avoid Morales’ bullet shells and the small bodies that plunked down like melted icicles from the ceiling.
She targeted the deformed vampires clumped on cattle arteries. “One head. Two heads. Three heads,”
Poe recited out loud until she decimated the rank lot.
Hearing her own voice helped her concentrate.
Poe nearly retched as her mind separated itself from the killing.
After a layer of bodies covered the floor, Poe handed Morales another clip and showed him the release. Catching on, he loaded the cartridge into his empty weapon.
Terrified cattle huddled together clutching flashlights, candles with paper drip catchers, and oil lanterns. As leery of Poe as they were of the supernatural beings, the cattle shied away from her.
That’s what you get for shooting one of them in the arm.
“Morales, you stay with these people,” Poe ordered. “I’m going ahead.” Gunshots could be heard a 305
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few yards away, and Poe was determined to see to the other batch.
“I’m going with you,” he insisted, his voice unstable.
“No. If both of us go, these folks will be easy prey,” she said adamantly. “They need you.” She squeezed his arm then