Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles Read Online Free Page B

hooded waterproof coat which cut made her look taller and slimmer. 
     Beneath she had on a plain black American Apparel t-shirt, snug black jeans, and high-top
     Converse shoes.   To Maclemar, Poe looked like a fresh-faced teenager not quite ready
     to face the real world.
    “If you drop her, I swear, I’ll snap your neck,” she said in a frustrated voice. 
     “She’s my prized friend, you know.”
    “Aye.  I know, sweetheart.  That’s why I would never do anything to the pooch.”  He
     watched Poe fiddle with her wrist knives and secure her guns in the shoulder holsters
     hidden by her coat.  The bent machete hung from her bulky backpack.  The engine sprang
     to life like a brand new motorcycle.  “Hand Penny to me.”  The dog whimpered when
     Poe deposited her on Maclemar’s lap.  “Now, Penny, be still, won’t you?  I promise
     not to let anything happen to you.”
    “Pen, stay put, okay?” ordered Poe.  She kissed the mutt on the head and climbed to
     the back of Maclemar, and her travel backpack containing her only possessions weighed
     on her shoulders.
    The little hairs on the back of her neck warned her that something was wrong.  She
     shivered as she scanned the garage that was chiefly in the shadows.  You’re imagining things, Julia Poe , she chided herself.  You haven’t been to L.A. in over a year, and you’re all nerves.  You’ve got to cool
     it .
    Maclemar revved the engine.  Without realizing what she was doing, Poe tapped the
     Welshman’s shoulder.  He had parked in the middle of the half-full garage of two-decade-old
     cars.  He turned his head to the right, and Poe whispered, “We’re not alone.”  The
     moment she mentioned her fears, the Ducati’s engine fizzled and expired.  Silence
     enveloped the garage.
    The sudden clang of metal cages opening and closing from three different nooks of
     the concrete parking facility spurred Poe from her stupor.  Dogs.  She scanned the
     first emaciated dog heading toward them.  “Take Penny.  Climb up the storage shed
     in the middle of the garage,” she ordered Maclemar.  The metal storage container was
     over six feet high, and she doubted the dogs of various states of starvation could
     reach the top.  They came silently with not even a bark.  Poe realized later that
     their vocal cords had been tampered with to keep them silent.  She counted 15 dogs,
     all selected for their larger size.
    “I don’t think I can hit any of them,” said Poe, backing away when a balding husky
     with a limp boldly approached her.  “Try shooting the ones close to you, alright?”
    “Okay, but you should come up here.  It’s safer,” said Maclemar.
    Before she could answer her friend, three dogs sprung, and she fired her Colt as a
     warning.  When they didn’t take flight from the thunderous noise, Poe backed up and
     swung her machete to the nearest abused dog that intended to eat her and her friends. 
     Maclemar fired his useless Magnum, and Poe prayed that he’d hit at least a few of
     them. 
    Poe blasted the balding husky with a blue eye and a brown one but missed, hitting
     its ear instead.  “Fucking A, Poe,” she cursed.  “Two feet and you miss?”  Again she
     relied on her ugly machete and beheaded two more salivating dogs, but at this point
     she was surrounded by dogs unafraid of gunfire.  She hacked at the ballsy ones that
     dared invade her space.  Then she noticed it.  She figured out that the poor starved
     dogs had blood in their ears.  Somebody had punctured their eardrums so they wouldn’t
     be able to hear.  The dogs were meant for her.
    Poe tried shooting with her left hand, but she found more success hacking with the
     homemade weapon in her right hand.  So far she’d killed at least 10.
    Behind her a German Shepard whose ribs protruded like a barbecue grill nipped at her
     coat.  Poe cursed like a barmaid.  She was distracted from the four dogs she was fighting
     in front of