Several bullet holes punctured the master vampire’s clothing. He’d been busy rustling cattle at the biggest blood farm in the city.
“We’ll do our best, Kaleb,” said Ezperanza, a tall woman dressed in black riot gear accented with a yellow beret. Part of Sainvire’s Chicano army forced to hide in the Central Valley, the woman bristled with intensity. It was her moment to avenge her people who’d been ill-used by the vampire conspiracy from the very inception. “But I gotta tell you, there are only a handful of shields available and they weigh more than most of us.” Cut from industrial equipment like 323
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coke ovens and furnaces, the metal deflected bullets rather nicely. However, the weight proved problematic for non-vampiric folk.
People assigned to protect the transfer of cattle from the subway tunnels to the above ground train had to contend with the bombardment of bullets and batons while keeping the line moving. The train was on the opposite side of the station.
“Just try your best,” the gray-eyed vampire said grimly and disappeared into the throng that fought the Council sentinels.
Megan gasped, having pulled a 120-pound woman using her back and leg muscles to the platform. “Hey, you there with the baby face,” shouted Megan to a vampire who worked for Sainvire. Her uncle had disappeared to help hold the line.
“Are you talking to me?” asked the blue-eyed vampire that looked sixteen with a Sonny Rollins goatee and a red beret. He gave the redhead a cursory glance. He was too busy scanning for men in blue.
Megan’s eyes narrowed, but she did not let go of a bony elderly hand. “If you guys want us to hustle then you’d better get more men to pull these people out of the tracks! We’re getting hernias here.”
“Sainvire said that we should keep a sharp lookout,” he said defensively. “An’ we’re keepin’ a sharp lookout.” After his statement, an errant bullet grazed his left temple, heightening his distaste of the situation.
Megan used her leg muscles to heave another blood heifer out of the tracks, praying her back wouldn’t snap. “Well I’m a relative of his. If you don’t do what I say, I’ll personally get Sainvire to kick your head in!”
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Her chest heaved from exertion and annoyance.
Megan stared down the insolent vampire that finally lauded her with eye contact.
“Resorted to dropping names, eh?” Morales said despairingly, sapped by cattle pulling himself.
Maybe it was because those red-lashed eyes showed no sign of relenting, the baby face vampire told his cronies, the Red Berets, to help out with the body extraction pronto. He, however, stayed glued where he stood. Sporadic gunfire danced dangerously down the metal-paneled halls of the station.
The undead joined them in lifting the bodies out of the subway tracks, and the line moved swifter and thinned just as quickly. Until, of course, the wind in the platform started picking up.
At first, nobody noticed the change.
Megan’s mouth went slack, and her eyes took on a look of abject fear. She turned to Morales who looked as terrified as she. Train!
“Poe!” they both mouthed at once.
(((
It was a nice breeze, but she thought nothing of it.
Not until one of the cattle from the back snapped out of his stupor and began wailing and violently clawing his way toward the front. The man was saying, “Train’s coming. Help. Train’s coming!” End-of-the-world chaos battered the crowd as the remaining cattle caught the electric fear of death in the air.
Poe quickly took to her feet, looked around, and touched the slimy walls. Sure enough, she felt vibrations.
Her mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to do. She looked at her hand clutching a weapon to ward off her opponents and almost wept.
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“Guns are useless against a train!” she reasoned, her pill-muddled head clearing.
She fumbled for the whistle around her neck and blew, hoping that the cattle would stop stampeding.
She had already witnessed three older folks get stepped on and used as stairmasters. The shrill warning had the opposite effect upon the scene of panic.
“Calm down!” Poe yelled. “Don’t trample each other!” But her efforts fell on deaf ears.
Her lower lip trembled then relaxed as the number of cattle thinned. “Megan and Morales will get all of them up the platform,” she said out loud. She allowed herself the luxury of a smile for bravery that disappeared far too quickly as a train’s high-pitched whistle hooted twice, stripping her of daring. There were at least twenty souls left, mostly elderly.