Universal City Metro stop. The once renowned Universal City Walk that used to thrill tourists despite the steep parking price and over-hyped storefronts was now an agrarian vampire community where vegetables appeared in neat rows and animal husbandry thrived alongside Jaws, T-Rexes, and Shrek.
The harvest was grown for human cattle to consume in downtown Los Angeles.
The heavy sound of concentrated gunfire goaded Sainvire’s people to move faster as they crossed the upper platform to the trains. “They must be disembarking,” Megan cried.
“Load everyone on the trains quickly! We’ve overstayed our welcome here,” Sainvire pronounced, his eyes resting briefly on Poe who was too busy hobbling along with a cattle buddy. He turned and flew toward the line of demarcation.
Most cattle were dehydrated and weakened.
Armed guards left opaque bottles of Gatorade on the seats of the train. Boarding them onto heavily graffitied trains bound for the Central Valley proved to be a bother after cattle emerged to the ground floor by the escalators. Council vamps shot and slashed at the strike force trying their hardest to escort cattle to the train cars.
“The people with white bandanas on their sleeves aren’t fighters,” Morales told Poe. “So don’t shoot ’em.
They’re here to feed, guide, and guard the cattle. They were trained with knives, axes, and machetes –
weapons that don’t ricochet in trains.”
329
Rono/That Which Bites
“This siege is really organized,” she said, gazing at the fierce fighters sporting different colored berets and fending off the enemy in riot gear. They followed the plan blueprints to the dot. “I had no idea.”
White bandanas proved to be the most able soldiers against the Council’s minions who tried to infiltrate the herd of cattle and kept them from boarding the train.
“Um, Sainvire,” Poe hailed, seeing the master vampire return from the front lines with a supply of Kevlars and guns ripped from the bodies of the enemy.
She and her friends were about to board the train, but she just had to get something off her chest. “Sorry, but I have some information that might be useful to you,”
she lied.
“Of course,” Sainvire said. He inclined his head politely though the tenseness of his face and the rigidity of his movements urged her to talk fast.
“Megan. Can you distribute these please? And get on board. We’re set to leave.” He added as an afterthought, “While you’re at it, help Morales find a more functional sidearm.”
“Right,” said Megan with a nod, hopping up to follow Morales. The door latched closed behind them.
Knowing it’s always better to unburden one’s self in the face of death, she just wanted to apologize. “I’m sorry for shooting you.”
Sainvire ceased his constant shifting and looked at Poe. “You’re forgiven,” he said then took her face between his hands and gave her the gentlest of kisses.
Before she could enjoy the moment, the nagging voice inside her head said, You belong on the roof!
As if sensing danger, Sainvire let go of Poe, pulled her close to the ground, and roared, “Poe, stay down!” He sliced at the air above her head. She had ducked just in time to avoid the swampy arm of a vamp 330
Rono/That Which Bites
intent on doing her ill. Her only new injury was a slight bump in the head from where the sliced arm clunked her.
They were done for. Slavers chipped viciously at Sainvire’s lines of defense. They were surrounded.
Many of the attackers were carrying old-fashioned pistols while others carried mallets and hatchets. The San Fernando Valley farmer folk were old school vampires who abhorred gun violence. Sainvire’s fighters were simply too outmanned to keep their position.
“Ah, I think our little talk will have to wait, Poe,”
Sainvire said with clenched jaws as his eyes honed on five flying undead headed toward the train.
“Sure,” Poe nodded. And what’s this about the roof again?
To his men, he yelled, “To the train. Now!”
She was encircled by friends and the resolute Sainvire, and she hadn’t thought to arm herself just yet.
It was a grave mistake. Before she could take the first step inside the train, Poe was yanked back by the straps of her pack where her weapons were lodged.
When a gun barrel appeared millimeters from her ticker, Poe’s heart rate didn’t fluctuate. She made a mental note to ask Megan the name of the wonder pills she had taken if ever she survived the night. Sainvire was gone, fighting his own battles.
“Oh, please no!” sobbed Poe, her shoulders quaking from grief. Poe belted out the worst kind of weeping worthy of Brenda Blethyn, Halle Berry, and Sally