Friday, May 1, 2020

Chicago Lockdown, Part Three

Back home I found a bunch of plastic garbage bags outside the apartment door. I stripped down to my socks and boxers, hoping none of the neighbors came out, then rapped on the door with my knuckles. After the sound of a few locks clicking, Rachel pulled the door open. "Wow. Did my birthday come early?"
            "Very funny." I took a long hot shower with lots of soap. Afterward I pulled on a bathrobe and fresh boxers and grabbed a beer. Rachel was in the living room, watching some movie about balloonists in the 19th century. She paused the film. "So what happened?"
            I sank onto the couch, keeping a few feet between us. "Jillian went vamp."
            "Oh." She paused the movie. "Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing?"
            "I don't know." I hoped I hadn't just sacrificed her for "the greater good" or something. I had enough bad decisions keeping me up at night. "It's up to her." 
            "Fine." Rachel clicked the remote. I picked up my half-finished beer. Then my phone buzzed. Goddamn it. 
            "Tom?" Anemone. "I just heard from Clifton. I can call a meeting. Lincoln Park, on the south side of the lagoon. Two thirty. Just tell your cop friends to leave us alone. Be there."
            "What?" It was close to midnight already. I was exhausted, and the thought of heading out to a conclave of vampires in the middle of the night made me sweaty. "I have to sleep sometime."
            "Do it in the morning, like me. This is what you wanted."
            "Wait!" My hand shook. "Is Jillian okay?"
            A pause. "He sounded almost . . . happy. I didn't talk to her."
            "All right. I'll be there." I hung up. 
            "Oh no, you don't!" Rachel threw a pillow at me. "You're not going out there in the middle of the night to meet with a mess of vamps! No way, no how!"
            "I might not have a choice." I picked up my phone. "You can come, if you want."
            I didn't want her to come with me, of course, but I usually lose that argument. This time Rachel hesitated. "Is this reverse psychology?"
            I shook my head. "Yeah, I wish you'd stay home and safe. I'm just tired of fighting."
            She slugged my arm. "Okay. Just this once. Just come home safe."
            "That's my whole mission statement." I called Sharpe.

Lincoln Park at 2:30 a.m., in front of the lagoon between the entrance to the zoo (closed) and the south entrance to the park (also closed, but the barriers were easy to get past).
            In normal times, people walked or jogged on the paths in daylight. They sat on benches, had picnics in the grass, or made out behind the trees. Children threw breadcrumbs at the ducks in the water. 
            After midnight the place felt like a restless graveyard, and not just because of the wind whipping through the trees. 
            Close to 50 vampires were milling around. Male and female. Some in long coats in the chilly night, others nearly naked—or completely. Old, young. Some wore facemasks that made them look like doctors and nurses, other had bandannas that made them look like train robbers. Vamps don't breathe—at least they don't have to as much as humans do—and they were dead already. Maybe they wanted to blend in when they were hunting.
            It was weird, seeing so many people, even vamps, together in one place outside. The city had banned large gatherings, but Sharpe had told me the cops would stay back, as long as the conclave didn't last longer than 30 minutes. 
            I hung back around the edges, hoping nobody recognized me. I had my Snoopy mask around my face, my dishwashing gloves on my hands, a cross around my neck, and a short wooden stake in my back pocket. Just in case.
            At 2:45 or so, Anemone jumped on a bench underneath the harsh light of a tall pole, and lifted her arms. She wore her usual tight black jeans and T-shirt, and dark glasses even in the middle of the night. "Hey there! Children of the night! Shut up!"
            The vamps turned toward her. Some looking up, others looking around to see what the rest were doing. I saw one barefoot female in Daisy Duke shorts and a crop top take a swig of something from a hip flask.
            "Pole dance!" a male voice shouted.
            More of them joined, chanting. "Pole! Dance! Pole! Dance! Pole! Dance!"
            Anemone laughed. "All right."
            She grabbed the pole with both hands and started climbing up, hugging the iron pole with her knees. Halfway up, she dropped upside down, spreading her arms. Her T-shirt dropped off, leaving her in her magenta bra. Somehow her glasses stayed on.
            "Take it off!" another vamp shouted. "Strip!"
            "Screw you, perverts!" Somehow Anemone pulled herself right-side up, then slithered higher, pulling with her arms, her skinny legs wrapped tight around the pole. 
            I held my breath. Vamps were immortal, but their bones could still break. I didn't want to watch Anemone snap her neck. We weren't exactly friends, but we were sort of allies. And I needed her to keep talking to the vamps around me. 
            Finally she crawled up on top of the light, pulled her body upright, and lifted her arms. "How's that, peeps?"
            The vamps cheered like drunks at a strip club. 
            Then Anemone leaned down. "Okay, now that you've had your fun, listen up! We're all hungry for blood." She licked her lips. "Me too. And the city's shut down the centers, as bad as they are. But we need to be smart about this. If we start killing humans in big numbers, the cops are going to come after us. Harder than before. That's not going to do any of us any good."
            "Are we supposed to starve while the humans are dying?" This came from a skinny male vamp in a Chicago White Sox baseball jacket and jeans, surrounded by a small group of male and female vampires watching him closely.
            Anemone peered forward, then smirked. "Oh, it's you, Rodrick. Hi. It's been a long time since we . . . went hunting together."
            "It's been years since most of us have been hunting at all!" He marched forward. "That's part of the fun of being a vamp! Not just the blood, but the hunt. The kill. Who are you to tell us what to do?"
            "I can't tell you what to do." She waved an arm. "Or anyone else. I'm telling you what's going to happen. Another war. Worse than before."
            "The humans are dying!" Rodrick laughed. "We can win this time!"
            Shit. The crowd of vampires was growling. 
            Then the barefoot female vamp in Daisy Dukes pointed a finger. At me. "Look! It's Tom Jurgen!"
            What? Uh-oh I turned to run—
            But three vamps were behind me. Big, dark, laughing.
            "Tom Jurgen!" The middle one—tanned, in a black leather vest—raised a fist. "It's him! He's killed hundreds of us!"
            Wait—hundreds? Maybe a dozen. But that wouldn't be a winning argument. I held my arms up. "Hi! Tom Jurgen. Have we met? We can talk, maybe have coffee—"
            Suddenly Rodrick was in front of me, as if he'd flown. His grin was terrifying. "Don't worry, Tom. I'll protect you from these scum."
            That scared me even more. My heart pounded. "I just want to get out of here."
            "Then you shouldn't have come here." He leaned in, inches from my face. Completely ignoring social distancing. "Don't be afraid. We're all friends here, right?"
            "Uh, sure." I looked up at Anemone on top of the pole. "I'm going home now, though. Nice to meet you—"
            Rodrick clutched my arm. "Come on, Tom. Coffee, like you said. Just you and me. We can—"
            Then a voice thundered over the air. 
            "DISPERSE!" Someone was using a loudspeaker. A big one. "DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY! RETURN TO YOUR HOMES—"
            Then the gunshots broke out. 
            Vamps shouted and screamed. I saw tall skinny bald one drop to the grass, clutching his bleeding face. The barefoot female toppled to the ground, shrieking in fury.
            The others tried to scatter in a wide, weird, circular dance as the bullets—silver?—rained down at them.
            "You motherfucker!" Rodrick lunged at me.
            I backed away, tripped, and tried not to ruin my boxers. Rachel was going to kill me. If he didn't. I rolled, gasping, my life flashing inside my head. It was way too short.
            Then Anemone was behind him. She grabbed Rodrick's arm and twisted at the shoulder. Rodrick roared and swung around, but Anemone swept a leg under his feet, and he tumbled down in front of her.
            Anemone leaned down and squeezed my arm. "You're all right. Come with me."
            "Wait!" I tried to pull away. "What—"
            Then everything went black.

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