Free Dead Surround - The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles by Celis T. Rono

sumfin.”
    The two vampires continued to guffaw and titter.
    They didn’t see or hear the object that the ocean had spit out.
    A smile slowly formed as Poe noticed the object that hit her. Between her legs lay her salvation.
    “I’m going to waste precisely two bullets on you both. I’ll shoot you smack in the center of the heart.
    Then I’m going to lay to rest the walking jerky chained up on your boats.”
    The sniggering duo slapped their knees at the girl’s statement.
    “And how are you gonna do that, gel?” asked Herbie.
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    Rono/DEAD SURROUND
    “Maybe she’s mentally ill or something,” said Trampoline Man heartily. “Are you going to use your fingers as a pretend gun?”
    “Nope,” Poe said with a sunshine smile reaching down. “I’m going to use my very own 9mm Glock.”
    With a smug smile Poe reached for the sopping object on deck and tore it out of the Ziploc bag.
    Quickly but with precision she pierced the hearts of both Trampoline Man and Manitoba. Bullseye.

    

    She awoke nestled between a piglet and a dog.
    Poe would have dismissed her bed partners as figments of her dreams but for the rather low cabin ceiling that looked like it was getting vodka shaken.
    She reached for the expired anti-nausea medication conveniently placed on the bolted bed stand.
    Swallowing a few tabs with only her spit to help them down, Poe clamped her eyes shut and waited for the uneasiness to dissipate.
    “Come here, Chops,” Poe said in a raspy voice.
    She hoisted the rosy piglet with a single perfectly round black dot on its rump. She’d named the little critter in her dreams. “You, too, Pen,” she added when her dog complained of favoritism. The dog nearly ate it. If it weren’t for Maclemar, Penny would have been lost at sea.
    Both critters stank.
    She ached all over and suffered from motion sickness. Two days since she’d had her last mouthful of cotton candy. Her stomach was empty, and last night’s debacle was no dream.
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    Rono/DEAD SURROUND
    After flushing the two boats filled with chained up Revenents, she and Maclemar had discovered a snorting piglet with a curly tail hiding under a pile of life preservers. The moment Maclemar had transferred gasoline pilfered from the two boats, he fired up his engine and headed for their destination.
    Maclemar, immovable, ordered her down to the cabin for some shut-eye. Poe had been too tired to protest.
    “Where is that weirdo taking us?” Poe asked the pig who had taken quite a liking to the rip on her mom’s Clash t-shirt. “I gotta get off this boat. I don’t know about you two.”
    Within fifteen minutes Poe was up and about, examining the tiny cabin-slash-kitchen. On a redwood shelf were dog-eared books consisting mainly of classic American writers.
    “Vonnegut, Thoreau, Conrad, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Faulkner, Twain, Wharton…wow,” read Poe. “My folks have the same stuff on their bookshelves at home. Maybe Caveman’s not such a Neanderthal after all.”
    “Much thanks then,” said a dry voice from the entrance. “Suppose I ought to be flattered.”
    She colored, and she watched the man warily as he walked down the steps. He carried two freshly gutted sea bass. As coolly as she could, Poe put on her damp sneakers.
    “Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes,” Maclemar pronounced.
    What do I say to someone who chained me up and molested me? Something neutral, I suppose. He’s the only one that knows how to drive a boat. And he did throw me a gun while doing butterfly strokes in the choppy ocean.
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    Rono/DEAD SURROUND
    “Do you want me to go on deck?”
    “You can do what you want. If it gets too smoky and fishy down here, I suggest you do,” he said with a shrug. Poe watched his long, well designed fingers dice up a small red onion and five hefty potatoes with their skins intact and throw them in a deep iron pot.
    In a large skillet he poured a generous amount of olive oil and arranged the two fish comfortably