The Windy City in Spring
Contents
Landing in Chicago
Chicago. This is home for me. As in I grew up here. My family roots are deep in the muck that is Chicagoland. Gary, Chicago, Evanston, all old stomping grounds for me. Here I am on a plane flying into Chicago.
I don't want to be here, but I need to know what happened here to my family, my sister and her kids. So I met a Settite named Steven a while back, he came up with some answers that might yield some solutions, or a shit ton more questions. I'm betting on the questions.
Behind me in second class are my niece, nephew, and the older woman who has been helping me care for them the last four years. I am bringing them back to the family seat because I had to declare war back in New York in order to protect the domain I was given. I pissed in a bad guys Cheerios. He is gonna want some payback. The kids are just sitting ducks during the day without me. At night too, I have things I have to do, and can't sit and protect them.
The kids have been a good thing for me. I needed a reason to not be a monster. I needed a reason to climb out of the hole of death and destruction I was sliding towards. Though this whole morals and consequences thing makes being a vampire much harder. My life is much easier without all those morals, but also very dark and empty. Bad enough that I eat the flesh of the dead and drink the blood of the living...for a while there I was a real whirlwind of destruction. Sad when the Sabbat is the eye of the storm...the calm place to recover.
I feel the plane get cold. Not temperature cold. Supernatural cold. As in the dead are walking by. So I take a deep breath and look across the shroud. My vision greys out. I can see a shattered plane, wires hanging, blood and bits on the walls. Somebodies body chunks on the floor. I look out the window and see a figure crawling up the wing of the plane. It is broken, limbs bent wrong. It's a ghost, a wraith, whatever you want to call it.
Taking the next step I use the senses of the creature. Whoever it was, the eyesight sucks. It doesn't feel the wind, or the rain. I watch is slide through a crack in the plane that will be there someday. It begins to examine the passengers looking for someone. I notice it seems to be looking at men closely. If I were alive, I would be getting goose bumps. What are the chances? Luckily it seems to be at the back of the plane, and moving slowly in an odd fashion.
I get up and go back, balancing the view of the dead lands, and the reality my body has to move through. I mumble something to Steven, letting him know I will be back. I am sure he is giving me a weird look. I pass the stewardess, she is going to die of a head wound. I see a couple of heart attacks, a couple of strokes. Being able to see others deaths isn't for the weak of stomach. Taking my time I finally get to where the wraith is looking passengers over. I can see it...her.
She is a brunette. And her body is pretty messed up. My logical brain categorizes the damage...either she was in a car wreck or a building fell on her. With her back to me I feel a tug of recognition. When she turns toward me my stomach drops to my feet. It's Susan.
Susan Catherine Allegria Hall. My wife. The reason I fought back from the depths of my ptsd after Nam. The person who kept me going so that I graduated college with a medical degree. The mother to Catherine...the one in the end I couldn't maintain without. Losing Susan tore my grasp of reality away. I swirled back into the darkness of the war. My grief was so deep I only kept going because of Catherine. But everywhere I turned I saw Susan. I could swear some nights I would wake up after her death and smell her next to me. I was sure some mornings she had just kissed me.
But this wasn't that Susan. This was the after death Susan. This was the memory she had of her mortal body, of the pain she suffered before she died. I knew if she would will it, that her corpus would heal itself, but she might not know that. I didn't want to talk to her. I sure as Hell didn't want her to find me here. Who knows what a mess she might cause in the skin lands if she freaked out here. Of all the ghosts from my past I dealt with...I am still not comfortable with her.
I went back to the front, and heard the Captain say we were landing soon. Thank God. I just wanted to get away from her. She didn't make it into first class with me until we were on the ground. I grabbed Steven, and we were the first ones off the plane. He looked at me like I was mental, and I suppose in this case I am. As we started out of the cabin, I glanced back and saw her lean over my seat, smelling me. Her wail cut my senses still attuned to the deadlands and I heard her cry out pitifully.
"TREMEN!"
I practically ran from the plane.
A Place to Call Home
Steven knows fuck all about Chicago.
I got us a cab. Because I have been on the run before, I have been thinking about where I will go to avoid the sun. Did I mention that this is my home? My parents lived here all my life. My grandparents too. I happen to know that unless my brother Albert sold it, my Grandfathers townhouse is empty... or at least not occupied. Actually its a gamble, I am playing the odds of what I know of my eldest brother.
Albert made his fortune before I graduated high school. He built several businesses. He was too influential to be drafted. So when Grandpa died, Albert bought it from Dad, because he had good memories there. Albert doesn't need the money from the sale, and he wouldn't want anyone to destroy it so he wouldn't rent it. Maybe he keeps it for a private get away from time to time. I don't know. I do know that unless something has happened it will be locked up and empty. Besides, can I hope that being in Gary will put us out of the way from the majority of Kindred politics?
I had the cabbie drop us three blocks away. I didn't want any surprises. I could smell the lake. It's spring...May to be exact. The night is cool with rain, but I don't mind the water coming down. I can hear sirens in the distance, but they are not for me, so I don't mind. We both use our abilities to be hard to see. The streets are pretty quiet. Not much in the way of homeless or graffiti here.
The house is as I remember it. The front yard shows neglect on a minor level. Albert is probably paying someone to come and do some upkeep, but no one is living here. I look and Listen, using my senses to feel the house for life. Nothing. We walked around to the alley. There is a stout fence in back, but I know where the spare key is hidden. We unlock, relock, and go up to the back door. It looks like kids have jumped the fence and partied in the back. But the ground floor windows have bars, no one has been in the house. As I have the spare key in my hand, I unlock the back door, and we are in.
The house stands still and empty. I hear some mice...but other than that, it is cool and there is no sign of humanity living here. The furniture is covered with sheets. The gas stove is set very low, just enough to keep this old house from freezing the pipes. We make sure the house is secure, then decide what to do next.
Out For a Little Drink
Steven is hungry. Still shrugging off whatever poison Sancerique gave him, he needs to feed, and flush the poison from his system. Easy feeding is at clubs. Clubs mean mortals and vampires. In this town other Supernaturals will be around too, but hopefully we won't bump uglies with any of them.
We leave and lock back up. I know of a place. I scouted it the last time I was in town, called the Succubus Club. It's a really happening place. Lines out the door and everything. I use my Presence, and we move to the front of the line. The doorman smiles at us and lets us in. I don't know this guy from Adam. He can tell we are Kindred. That is both a good sign and a bad.
The place is full of people. The music is loud. No, it's LOUD. I could set off C4 here and people would think the bass had dropped. Steven grinned and moved off into the crowd. He was guaranteed a drink in here. I do the same. I am hungry for flesh, but this isn't the place for that.
I go downstairs and see some kids necking. I watch them, they use a pen knife to make small cuts to themselves, and begin sucking from the wounds. I have heard of blood dolls, but never seen it. Man I feel old. I also feel the Hunger rise, the smell of blood making my insides clench. I go over, smiling. I turn on my Presence, making myself less threatening. They smile and link arms with me. They pull me into a tunnel off the dance floor, laughing and grinning. I notice some guys dragging along, but there doesn't seem to be any threat. We pass a couple of rooms with people doing things in them, smoking pot, having sex. We all pile into the first open room we find.
Once there we fall on cushions that I am glad I can't see. The girls smell yummy, but the room reeks of old sex, drugs, urine, and beer. One of them lifts her arm to my mouth, it's open wound smelling like ambrosia. I nick myself, letting them begin to lick my richer vitae as I begin to suck life from them. The instant my mouth locks on her and I begin feeding, I hear her go into orgasm, experiencing the power of my Kiss. I feed on each of them in turn. I wind up satisfied, and got up leaving them drunk on my blood. Now if there were just a corpse laying around to munch on...I would be set.
I wander out, trying to remember how I got here. It's dark here, without my Auspex I would be totally lost. I move forward, passing rooms I had seen before. Coming back out, I found myself at the edge of the dance floor, realizing that there was a sunken dance area I hadn't seen before as I was concentrating on my meal.
I hear chanting off to my right, and see yet another lower section, with people standing around the edges as two men fight. The chanting crowd is egging them on. As I watch, I can see them wielding broken beer bottles. Abruptly one of them stabs the other in the neck, and it is all over. The crowd seems to draw in a collective breath...only the throb of the music holds the area. Suddenly people can't get out of the lower mosh pit fast enough.
I look up and lock gazes with an amazingly beautiful woman. She has dark hair, dark eyes. Her skin is flawless, I can see the ample swell of her breasts, her body calling to me. The gurgling of the dying man draws my gaze, and when I look back she is gone. Recovering my senses I jump to the mosh pit and move to the man, trying to stay out of the blood pool on the floor. There is nothing I can do for this guy, he has bled out in that short amount of time. I carefully pick him up and take him to the maze where I was a few minutes ago. He's dead, he won't miss some flesh for me to eat.
Stop!
Once I had eaten a bite and cleaned up I went back out to the main part of the club. Well fed on all fronts, I began to search for Steven. Luckily enough as I moved up to the main floor I saw two guys dragging him to the door. They looked rough, lots of denim and leather, a few tattoos, bikers I would assume. I yelled "Stop!", but they ignored me.
As the doors popped open I saw a couple motorcycles idling nearby. One of them slammed the double doors shut as I ran toward them. I could hear the rev of engines over the noise of the music. I hit the door at a run, finding they had dropped a padlocked chain around the handles. I pulled on some of my borrowed blood and the door handles tore off of the door. One of the bikers threw a lit molotov at me as they roared away, I dodged and it splattered on the pavement with a roar. My beast screamed in fear at the flames, but I pushed it down and kept running.
Obviously I could never keep up on foot, so I took stock of the parking lot. Some guy was getting in a nice little Beamer. I ran over to him, him looking up at me in alarm. As our eyes made contact I said "I am borrowing your care". He nodded, and handed me the keys. To the credit of the Beamer, it purred to life and handled well. I could just see the tail lights of the bikes as I left the lot.
The 5 Series Sedan hugged the road, and I used it to dodge through traffic. We had a couple narrow misses, but I caught up to the last of the bikers without a problem. He didn't have Steven, so I clipped his bike with the car, sending him spinning. The next guy saw me coming and did some good driving. We dodged around. I saw him pull something from his pack, and he spray painted my windshield black. Enraged I hit his bike with the car. I saw him tumble to the side. Some second sense warned me of impact, and I braced myself. Driving blind, I t-boned a car. Airbags saved me, and the fact that my vampiric flesh just doesn't take mortal damage at all.
I kicked the door open. I first went to make sure the driver of the other car was okay. She is, and she is screaming profanity at me. I can't blame her. I look back up the street to the biker who blinded the windshield. He is still sprawled out there, his heavy bike laying on him.
I walked over to him carefully, mindful of guns. I don't want to heal if I don't have to. He has other issues on his mind. Like his broken legs. I step over to him, actually surprised he's in as good of shape as he is.
"Where are they taking my friend?" I ask.
"Fuck! I don't know. You really fucked me up. Fuck that hurts!" He yelled at me. A growl starts inside of me. I stick my foot over his exposed knee, placing a little weight on it. He screams more profanity at me. i let up and ask again.
"Where did they take Steven?"
"Aw Christ! I don't know, a warehouse I think. I don't know the address! I swear to God I don't know." I leaned on that open, shattered joint again, seeing if the answer would change. He screamed a lot more, but the answer stayed the same.
"Okay, now why did you take Steven?" I asked, watching him closely.
"I'm not saying anything else you blood suckin Bastard!" He yelled at me. I shook my head. He's not very bright, but pretty useful. He just told me that they knew we were vampires. I leaned on his exposed bone again, making it grind against it's other part. His howls split the night.
"Is that why you took Steven? Because he's a vampire?" I asked mildly while he screamed. He nodded, tears streaming from his eyes.
"So you knew we were vampires. Who do you work for?" I said easing up the pressure.
"We were needing a fix, so we grabbed him. We thought he was alone. Should have known better. You fucks travel together a lot. We're not workin for any vampires anymore. We been cruising for vampire blood for a while now. We got a taste for it in Kentucky, and been scoring a little here and there." He answered. Independent ghouls, how nice.
I changed tack once he had begun to get his breath. "You know where the warehouse is?" He nodded emphatically. Okay then. I pulled his bike off of him, before picking him up. He screamed a little, then passed out. I carried him to the curb. Another woman stopped, to see if she could help. I felt bad, but I pointed the bikers gun at her, and told her to move away from the car. Picking up the biker I put him in the drivers seat. I held the gun to his head, slit my wrist with a piece of glass from the ground, and let him drink from me. He took it greedily, loving the taste. I gave him just enough to see his flesh begin to knit back together. I didn't want him perfect, but I did want him to not pass out or die on me. The healing properties of my blood worked on him, he became less sallow, his eyes cleared. Once I thought he was in a good place, I pulled my wrist away. He immediately began to complain.
I put the gun back to his head and told him to drive. He did, with me watching his every move. As we drove he told me his name was McCarthy, and that his group was part of the Hells Angels back in the day.
Jungle Training
We arrived at the warehouse, I had him stop a couple of blocks away. Because of the open area around it, we could see it pretty clearly. I counted four dobermans. Damn, dogs are a pain to get by. McCarthy started yammering about how I couldn't get past the dogs, on account of they kept them hungry so that they would kill anyone who entered the fenced area. This dude was really getting on my nerves.
I was thinking about how I really needed some fresh meat to feed them when my hunger awoke, and I became aware again of McCarthy's open wounds. "How about you? I am thinking that you can get me through the dogs. With all that blood you have all over you, I'm betting you will be way more tempting than me." I said it in a whisper, leaning into his ear.
He blanched. He started to sweat again. I wasn't real sure that he hadn't almost pissed himself before he got a grip. I got out of the back, and opened the door for him. I have to admit, I wasn't ready for him to bolt.
That fat man took off like his hair was on fire and his ass was catching. I growled "Fuck" in a soft voice and ran after him. He was fast for a big man. I touched my vampiric speed and caught up to him. At full speed I kicked one foot behind the other, and watched his fat ass hit the ground hard and roll. He tore open all the road rash and cuts from his bike crash. I heard his forearm snap. This guy...I really didn't like this guy. I kicked him in the broken arm. He squealed and clutched it. "You do something that stupid again, and you had better hope that all I do is feed you to the dogs. I was on a sweep and clear team in 'Nam. I know all about the best ways to hurt somebody and leave them to die slow. Now get up."
I grabbed him under the shoulder and heaved, he staggered to his feet. His face was pale, he had finally pissed himself. I almost felt bad for kicking him in the arm, but time was a wasting, and the sun wasn't going to hold back because I had feelings. I needed to save Steven, or really be screwed in Chicago. Besides...my training said you never leave an ally behind. Steven was an ally, and almost a friend.
We walked back to the car. I took the keys out, put them in my pocket. We walked along the edge of the street to the gate around the warehouse. McCarthy got it open, and us inside before the dogs noticed. I pushed him ahead of me. They approached stiff legged, their teeth showing. They were all gaunt and angry looking. I could see scrapes and sores on their hide. The bikers not only didn't feed them much, they were mean to them also. Not a good plan. I bet that there was only one designated handler. The dogs hated all other life forms.
