The Year of the Rat
by Nico Grey
Chapter 6
I awoke in a morgue — or someplace that seemed to me like it must be a morgue. I could sense a large, open room. It was cold. There was almost no light. It felt like I was underground.
Gradually, as I forced my eyes open wider, I could see that I was lying naked on a stone slab. There were other naked, dead bodies lying on tables surrounding me.
It wasn't like waking up from a dream... or even from a nightmare. I felt unbearable, agonizing pain. I couldn't tell where it was coming from. It was just a force inside my body, compelling me toward consciousness.
I tried to move. Nothing happened. I tried to scream, but still nothing. I could see. There were those naked bodies all around me in my peripheral vision. But I couldn't smell anything. I didn't think I could taste anything. But I could sense low sounds coming from somewhere in the distance.
The most powerful sensation was the pain. It was overwhelming all my other senses. It hurt even more when I started to gain some control over my limbs and tried to move.
My first coherent thought was to locate my clothes, but I couldn't find any as I ran my hands up and down naked flesh. There wasn't even a cloth that I could pull over myself.
I don't know how your mind works when you're dead. But my first thought, when I made contact with my penis, was to rub on it a bit. Then some more. Nothing happened. Horrified, I began to manipulate it furiously. Pulling, rubbing, rolling it in my fingers. Nothing happened. I really couldn't even feel any sensation in it.
Oh my god! I really was dead!
I tried to recall how I came to be in this place.
Two sets of images skittered through my mind. In one I was naked on a steel altar, high about a great city. A beautiful, angry pagan priest floated in the air above me. There was a consuming hunger in his eyes.
In the second images, I was in some sort of stone building. Under the ground, I thought. I saw a nest of blankets in the center of the room. A slim, naked boy with long brown hair was lying there sleeping. He looked tragic. But something about the scene felt hopeful.
Both scenes were familiar. I just couldn't figure out how I connected to either of them.
Slowly, the pain started to become bearable. But it still hurt to do anything, even to breathe.
That at least seemed encouraging! I was breathing!
As the pain became more tolerable, I noticed the hunger. I had been hungry many times in my life. Often, since I had started living on the streets. But this hunger wasn't like anything I had known before. It was consuming.
My stomach was empty and cramping. The sensations nauseated me. Physical discomforts reported in from all parts of my body. I could barely manage the harsh sensory overload. I prayed to God for relief.
Slowly, I opened my right hand and released my penis. There was no change in that sensation. I brought my hand up to my neck. I could just feel a slim metal chain there. It gave me hope.
Carefully, I advanced the chain around my neck until I could sense the metal crucifix that hung from it. I worked the chain around farther, until my fingers could grasp the crucifix. I closed my hand around it and began to pray.
With that prayer in my heart and a single name on my lips, I slowly drifted back into darkness.
I didn't know how much time had passed when I awoke again. It felt like the pain wasn't as bad as it had been. The hunger I had felt also wasn't as severe.
I was reluctant to move lest the intense pain return again. I sensed movement near me, so I cut my eyes in that direction. Suddenly I felt much worse.
There was a young man in a black lab coat working on one of the bodies next to me. It looked like he was cutting the body and sticking needles into it. When I noticed a clear plastic bag on the floor that was slowly filling with blood, I started to panic. Would I be next?
I probably made some sort of noise. The young guy turned toward me, scalpel in hand, and I tried to roll off the stone table. But my body refused to move! I became aware of the crucifix biting into my hand, so I thrust it in his direction.
Surprisingly, he laughed.
"That really doesn't work," he informed me. "It's a bit of an old wives' tale."
I had nothing to offer. The crucifix was my only defense.
"Oh, hey!" He turned away and began scanning the room with his eyes. "I have your pants around here somewhere. Yeah! There they are!"
He was back in a moment, my ragged jeans thrust out toward me. I still couldn't move, so he draped the pants over my lower body. He also had my sneakers in his hands. Those he dropped on the floor.
"I didn't mean to be disrespectful, leaving you lying there naked. That's just how Trevor brought you in and, well," he shrugged, "You fit in with everyone else that way." Apparently those bodies on the stone tables around me really were dead.
I struggled to get words out. At least he had set the scalpel down when he went to retrieve my pants. I guess my eyes spoke for me. It was hard to take my mind off that bag filling with blood.
"You can't be hungry yet, can you?" He sounded amazed.
"Where am I?" I finally managed to force something out.
He seemed surprised that I didn't know.
"Didn't Trevor tell you anything?"
I tried to shake my head. Who was Trevor?
Apparently he got the drift. With a put-upon scowl, he started to explain.
I was dead. Or rather, I was undead.
I had been bitten by a vampire. Apparently that was Trevor. An image of a beautiful blond youth began to form in my head.
A series of additional images formed. A fairytale night, culminating atop a steel-frame bridge. I was naked in the night. The blond youth was doing amazing things to my body. And then a flash of sharp teeth... and pain. A sense of deep loss was wed to that memory of pain.
The images added up, I guess. I just couldn't believe what this guy was telling me.
I was dead. But not entirely?
The young guy gave me his name. Jeremy.
He explained that I now belonged to his tribe. We were both vampires. And Trevor, too — "wherever the hell he is", Jeremy snarled.
I was dead. But my body would go on living. It was just a different sort of being alive. It came with its own special set of rules.
Jeremy gave me the basics. He told me that he couldn't do more. His time was too valuable. Apparently it was Trevor's job to explain everything to me. Jeremy called him my "sire".
Three things stood out from his explanation. I could never see sunlight again. Any exposure to the sun's rays would be deadly for the new, dead me — I'd be "deader than dead" — in addition to being very unpleasant.
I would have to avoid human contact. They shared our world, but it was forbidden for vampires to have anything more than casual contact with humans.
And I would need to eat. "Feed", he called it.
I would need to feed fairly soon. Jeremy said that I might manage to go without for a month, but not much longer. He also cautioned me to get advice from an experienced vampire rather than try to feed on my own. He had a few more unkind things to say about Trevor.
Jeremy also explained that he would need to be compensated for his services. Apparently keeping me in his lab was some inconvenience for him. Compensation should be Trevor's responsibility, as my sire and the person who had brought me to Jeremy.
If Trevor wouldn't take responsibility, I would have to pay. He noticed my anxious expression.
He would give me time, but a debt was always a debt. He wasn't usually interested in taking any portion of a debt in trade, although, he allowed as he slid my jeans down my body, he might be willing to make some exception in my case... after I was feeling better.
But most of the debt would have to be paid in cash. Or else. He introduced me to Torsten and Grim, a pair of enormous wolves, to emphasize that point.
I was feeling exhausted again. But that raft of information made it impossible for me to fall asleep. Until I did.
When I woke again I was starting to feel some semblance of normal — or at least my new normal, I concluded. The pain was gone. I wasn't feeling much hunger.
My body, Jeremy explained, had finished adjusting to my new, undead state. As long as I made sure to feed when I was hungry, stay completely away from sunlight, and didn't have any stakes driven through my heart, I was good to go. Maybe forever. He didn't say how long vampires could live, but I got the impression that hundreds of years wasn't unusual.
Jeremy did remind me that debts still needed to be paid. And that while the consequences of failing to pay might not kill me, I would wish I was dead. Apparently Trevor had never returned after dumping me with Jeremy.
I begged Jeremy for some advice about what to do next. That he was willing to provide, accepting trade in compensation. I was too unnerved by the enormous changes in my life to even care.
He suggested that I leave just after the sun had fallen, then make my way to familiar territory. He recommended that I find a couple of places where I could sleep undisturbed during the day. I should do my best to make those places secure, as well as unlikely to attract any notice from humans.
I asked if he could tell me where we were in relation to the Navy Pier. With a sigh, he drew me a map and offered some suggestions on how to get there quickly. He told me that he would add that cost to my bill.
The shirt and light jacket he scrounged up to complete my attire were also added to my bill.
Before I slipped over the fence of his compound, he reminded me that I should try to find Trevor. He didn't seem to have a very high opinion of Trevor's reliability, but he was my sire. It was his responsibility to take care of me.
If I couldn't find Trevor, Jeremy suggested that I find other vampires to guide me. He offered a few clues that would help me notice others of our "tribe". The enhanced senses of my new, undead body would help with that.
With that, he washed his hands of responsibility for me.
"Don't forget your debt," he called, as I landed on the street outside his compound.
Making my way to Navy Pier wasn't difficult. But it felt a lot more challenging with my mind distracted by all the changes in my life.
My new senses brought information, entirely unbidden, that I had never noticed about my environment before. I worried about how to find a place to hide before the sun rose. I really worried about the debt I owed Jeremy. Those wolves were huge!
I hoped that I would find Trevor again on the Navy Pier. But I was also aware that I hadn't often seen him there. I didn't know where else he might spend his time.
I wondered where else I might turn for help if I couldn't find Trevor. Jeremy had suggested that my new, improved senses would help me locate others of our tribe. And I was noticing the different odors coming from the people around me on the train.
But what odor meant a stranger was part of our tribe? And what was the proper etiquette when meeting a fellow vampire. Did we flash a secret sign? Sniff each other's butts? Maybe there was a code word... Dealing with it all was nerve-racking — especially now that I understood that an error could be deadly for me.
Before I entered Gateway Park, I stopped first at the old church. St. Francis Xavier. I wasn't sure what response an undead creature might find waiting in a church, but it had been my home for more than nine months.
I entered the old church building cautiously. I was almost overwhelmed with a feeling of homesickness. Mike's scent was everywhere. But Jeremy had drummed the vampire code into me. I had to avoid contact.
Standing in the chancel, nothing felt different. I was apprehensive, but it appeared that I was accepted in this place.
Before I left, I slipped stealthily into the basement. I didn't sense that Mike was there. But I was careful.
Nothing had changed. Our nest was still laid out in the middle of the floor. I noticed the camp stove standing nearby. Mike's backpack and belongings were over against one wall. I noticed that my belongings were still there, right next to Mike's. That made me feel like crying, although no tears fell.
I spent some time poking around in that basement. In the nine months that Mike and I had lived there, nobody had bothered us. I couldn't even recall hearing anyone in the old church. And that sparked an idea.
There were more than a dozen different rooms in the basement below the church. Several of them had locks that still worked. And there was a second, rickety old set of stairs that led up to the church at the far end of the building.
I found a room that had a locked door and no window. A little makeshift remodeling and I had a temporary vampire nest. If nothing better turned up, I had a safe place to call home — at least for a while.
The Navy Pier was both a familiar and a brand new experience. There was something about the changes that had taken place in my body that heightened my senses somehow. Waking in Jeremy's lab, I encountered a real sensory deficit. But the longer I was awake in my new body, the more powerful my senses were becoming. I wondered if they would continue to improve, or if they would eventually reach a limit.
One of the first things I noticed when I set foot on the Pier was the scent of apples. It was a faint odor, but it was everywhere around me. Something about the smell seemed familiar.
Scenting the air carefully, I noticed that the odor appeared to be coming from the shops on the south side of the Pier. It was definitely stronger in that direction. Something about it tickled my memory. I followed my nose.
The odor grew stronger as I drew closer to the first of the shops. It was definitely coming from the shops, not from the boats or the water.
Strolling across the front of the first business, I noticed Dylan leaning against the building. He was alone. His customary bag of Jolly Ranchers clutched in his hand. That finally triggered my memory.
At the same moment I set eyes on Dylan, he noticed me. That shy, appealing smile began to pull gently at the corners of his mouth. His gaze turned reflexively toward his feet. After weeks away from familiar faces, his response was heartwarming.
I took a place against the wall right next to him. He extended his Jolly Ranchers toward me. I took one to be polite. I hadn't realized how much that the sugar in my mouth would trigger my hunger.
He seemed puzzled by my reaction. Uncharacteristically, he took several seconds to observe me closely.
"Rad?" His voice was filled with concern. "What's wrong?"
That was a very touchy question. I didn't think he'd take it very well if I tried to explain that I was undead.
He lowered his sunglasses briefly. For such a shy kid, his inspection of me felt almost intrusive. He appeared to be scenting the air cautiously.
It was nothing abrupt, but I began to feel an odd sensation in my head. At first it was just a feeling. It evolved into a question. 'Rad? What happened to you?'
This felt different from the voices and sensations I had started to notice in my head before I became undead. Jesus! I was undead!
It was something new, but somehow it seemed to make sense. It was almost like trying to figure out an unfamiliar tool... or a new skill.
'Hello!' I tried tentatively.
Dylan looked shocked! Then he giggled faintly.
Had he heard me? How could he have heard my thought?
He giggled again. 'You're one of us!'
"What happened?" he asked again. "What made you decide to become..." 'a vampire?' He finished the question in my head.
My head snapped around in a panic. Could anyone else hear our conversation? But no one passing by showed any interest in two street kids.
I returned to his question. 'A vampire', and 'One of us.' Dylan was... one of us? Good grief! Well, apparently there was no secret sign that I'd have to learn.
"I didn't decide," I whispered back. "It just happened."
That answer confused Dylan. "It isn't supposed to be that way," he murmured to himself.
I sensed a long explanation ahead. Without giving it any thought, I formed some images in my head. Then I tried to hit 'send'.
Dylan looked shocked. Then upset. "Trevor did it?!" Then he realized that he had spoken out loud. His attention appeared to turn inward, then he turned back to me for an intense inspection. A tiny grin played at the corners of his mouth.
It was my turn to be startled. Without thinking about it, I realized, I had just shared images with Dylan of me naked! My first real day on the job as a vampire and I was already sexting! Or maybe there was another word. Sending penis... No! They were called dick pics. Except I had showed Dylan a lot more than just my dick!
A range of expressions played across Dylan's face. He turned us both toward the wall, so we were facing away from passers-by, then he slipped off his sunglasses and looked into my eyes. I noticed that his eyes appeared to be glowing a faint golden color.
"Taryn will be here in a few minutes," he informed me. "He's just walking with Justin to a training session. But he'll be back. He knows a lot more than me. He can help. You need to tell him what you told me."
He paused to consider something for a moment. "Well, tell him everything except maybe those last things you showed me." He looked embarrassed, but he was smiling bashfully. "Those were rad! But Taryn really only needs to know the important stuff."
I wondered what 'the important stuff' had been. Those last images contained some 'stuff' that was pretty important to me.
Dylan seemed to sense my uneven emotions. He leaned toward me slightly, making gentle contact with my arm. He held out his bag of Jolly Ranchers again. It was a calming little ritual.
When Taryn arrived, Dylan took him aside for a brief consultation. Then the two of them rejoined me.
Taryn eyed me appraisingly. "Let's find someplace private," he suggested.
I wasn't quite sure what he meant. But I was pretty sure that Dylan wouldn't share those images of me. I fell in along the two of them. We walked until we found a private corner in Gateway Park.
Dylan appeared to be conflicted. He glanced at Taryn and some unspoken communication took place between them. Then he stepped up and gave me a gentle hug, before he strolled back toward the Pier.
Taryn looked at me expectantly, but I had no idea where to begin. He realized that he needed to guide the conversation.
"Dylan told me that you're one of us now," he appeared embarrassed. "Well, I can see that you're one of us, Rat. But he said that you were turned very recently."
It was a statement. His expression made it a question. So I nodded.
"Dylan says that it wasn't your idea. That you never even knew what was happening," he clarified. His expression became more serious. "He says that Trevor did it."
I nodded again. "He said his name was Trevor. I think he's the one that you know. I think I can show you."
Taryn's mood changed. It was both more intense and more excited.
"Dylan said you could do that. Most new vampires," he looked around to make sure that no one was nearby, "can't even communicate mind-to-mind using words yet. That's amazing!"
He glanced around again.
"Can you show me your Trevor's face?" He noted my reticence. "All I need to see is his face, if you can do that."
He waited. Then his expression revealed his amazement... as well as frustration and some righteous anger. Realization followed.
"Oh my god, Rat! We did this to you! Gyro and I."
I thought he was going to cry. I could see something glowing behind his sunglasses. He wrapped both of his arms around me and held me tight.
"I'm so sorry!"
I hadn't really considered that. But I wasn't angry. He didn't make me undead. That was Trevor. At worst, he and that kid that kinda looked like me had just set me in Trevor's path. I couldn't be upset at them over that.
I tried to reassure Taryn with my thoughts and with a few images of that evening that showed me making the choices that gave Trevor his opportunity. And because I thought he needed it, I tried to send a feeling of forgiveness.
Our conversation continued for more than an hour and touched on a lot of topics. It felt like he was trying to cram years of knowledge into my head in one evening.
As soon as he was sure that I had someplace safe to stay, and that I understood the importance of being there well before the sun rose, he turned to the basics of vampire lore. 'Being a Vampire for Dummies', I smirked to myself. Then I realized that I had better pay close attention. I needed the knowledge desperately.
He explained the importance of keeping our existence a secret from ordinary people. Vampires had powers that made us stronger than mere mortals, he told me. If people found out about us, it would lead to resentment and fear, then to open conflict. Vampires wanted to avoid that outcome.
Also — his expression turned a bit sketchy at this point — in order to stay alive, vampires had to feed. It was almost as if he was afraid to continue.
Vampires, he finally explained, fed on humans. They had to, otherwise they would die.
And that was a real eye-opener. It took me a while to fully understand that I had just changed teams in a very big way. So much for 'shirts and skins'. I was now 'Team Fangs' and they were 'Team Dinner'. That wasn't a very pleasant thought.
Taryn explained the details once I had gotten over my horror at the idea. It's really a good thing that I had never felt very close to more than a couple of people. Really, most of them had been feeding on me throughout my life; just not in a completely literal way.
He described the symptoms I would begin to feel as hunger and the need to feed grew stronger, as well as the consequences if I let the hunger build too long without satisfying it. He seemed reluctant to make the offer, but let me know that he would go with me on my first hunt if I needed him.
I didn't explain to Taryn, but I was already forming thoughts about how I could hunt when the time came. As we talked, memories were starting to come back to me about a time I had seen another feeding. I thought that I just might be able to handle this nasty problem on my own, but I promised that I would talk to him if I needed help.
He also explained some of the health risks associated with feeding on unhealthy humans. They wouldn't be permanent — my new vampire body was almost impervious to the ravages of illness — but could present unpleasant side effects while my body was digesting an unhealthy person's blood. He didn't make any promises, but told me that he would ask if his crew could help teach me how to identify unhealthy victims before feeding.
It was a long conversation. Taryn explained that teaching a new vampire was the obligation of his or her sire. But he conceded that I probably wouldn't get much help from Trevor until he wanted something from me.
He concluded with a promise to help me as much as he could. He thought that a few of his friends would be willing to help, too. I got the impression that Dylan had taken a special interest in me, but he had only become a vampire recently. It would be better for me if my mentor had more experience.
Most important for me, even more than all of his advice, was the impression I got that Taryn really cared. I didn't have much experience with people that cared about me. On those occasions when someone was sincerely interested in me, I felt so much stronger and more confident. Like the months I had been able to depend on Mike...
The next weeks brought dizzying changes to my life.
I secured my place in the church basement. It had no window. Sunlight never touched that room. And I was able to secure the door completely with a new lock.
I was reasonably sure that Mike had never bothered to explore that part of the basement, and there was no evidence that he did after I moved in. In fact, I rarely sensed much activity at all from his end of the building. I desperately wanted to see how he was doing, but was heeding the warnings that Taryn and Jeremy had given me about human contact. It hurt immeasurably at times, but I kept to my new world.
During the night, I prowled abandoned buildings and isolated spaces near the waterfront. I was pretty sure that I could find new hideouts if I ever had to abandon my current place.
I spent some evenings hanging around on the Pier with Taryn and a few of his friends. I was getting to know that crew. I had the sense that Taryn was methodically introducing me to all of his friends. That suited me. I didn't need a lot of close friends, but I thought that a diverse support network would be necessary.
Dylan liked me. But he was habitually shy, so I didn't impose too much on his friendship. We had some fun together. He became my confidant when I needed someone willing to listen to me. But I tried not to seek him out unless I really needed his support. Most of the time, I made myself available on the Pier and let him approach me.
It was Dylan, surprisingly, who provided my first practical lesson in feeding. I had understood that feeding was usually a private experience for vampires. They might hunt their prey with a few members of their immediate 'family', but the actual feeding wasn't a spectator sport. Shy, almost secretive Dylan asked me to join him and several of Taryn's friends the next time he had to feed.
He and Taryn had both explained that I would also have to feed soon. If I went much more than a month without, my body would begin to dry out. It would become more agonizing with each passing day. And if I went too long without food, I wouldn't be able to recover. Vampires were almost immortal... but we had to feed.
Taryn told me that there were temporary 'fixes' if necessary. Feeding on animals would provide limited relief from starvation symptoms. So would drinking the blood of dead humans. Apparently the place where I first woke up — Jeremy's morgue — collected blood from the dead and sold it to vampires in need. But there was no permanent substitute for hunting our own food.
Taryn was sympathetic. He understood that hunting and killing humans to drink their blood was both physically repulsive and morally repugnant. He told me that he had been undead for more than ten years and still disliked having to hunt. But if I wanted to survive, I would have to learn how it was done. And I would have to do it.
Late one evening, five of us accompanied Dylan into one of the seedier parts of the city. Every vampire had their own preferences when it came to hunting. Some were completely amoral. But Dylan preferred to target adult men who abused children.
A vampire ability to hear and see the thoughts of other beings helped him identify his targets. When his hunting party found someone suitably isolated for a 'safe' attack — that is, one that wouldn't attract unwelcome attention — Dylan slipped in close enough to get a sense of the person. When he found someone suitably 'worthy', he waved the rest of the crew away. But he signaled for me to stay and observe.
His approach was interesting. Knowing the nature of the target helped. He knew what would lower their defenses and turn on their predator instincts. It was only when this particular man thought he had his small, defenseless victim isolated in a quiet alley, that he discovered that he wasn't the hunter.
It was unpleasant to watch. Dylan told me afterward that he had waited a little too long to feed, so he was overeager. It turned into a gore fest. As soon as it ended, he really didn't want me anywhere near him. I think he was a little ashamed of what I had seen. But he explained later that the feeding urge can overwhelm not just moral boundaries, but even rational thought.
I was surprised that I wasn't bothered more by what I had witnessed. The actual attack had been stomach-churning. It had triggered some memories deep in my head that I still couldn't bring to the surface of my mind to access.
I didn't feel at all bad for Dylan's victim. I hadn't been close enough to hear his thoughts, or to see into his mind, but I could clearly read his intentions when he thought that he had a weak victim cornered. Dylan had taken a life in order to survive. But it was a life that would have continued to harm other defenseless victims had it not ended in that alley.
And that got me thinking. When I was working in Grant Park, I had met some fairly decent people. I had met many amoral people. I had certainly met immoral people. But I had also encountered some real monsters; monsters in human guise.
Taryn and Dylan — and Jeremy — had made it very clear that I would have to hunt. I wasn't repulsed by the idea. Although had I been a few years older when I turned, I might have been bothered more by the moral aspects of hunting.
As it was, I had spent most of my life being mistreated and abused by the human race. I had only formed a couple of isolated connections with other people. So now that I needed to hunt people to survive, I really didn't have a deep emotional or moral conflict over doing so. In my mind, at least, I found that I could look at them the same way they looked at cows, pigs and chickens.
But I wasn't completely without moral values. Dylan's motives in choosing his prey really appealed to me. If I had to kill people to survive, wasn't it better to eliminate those who were doing a lot more harm than good in the world? I had met a lot of that variety in Grant Park.
Grant Park was also on my mind for another reason. I assumed that I still owed Jeremy for my time in his morgue. I hadn't heard anything more about it, but I had unpleasant thoughts about a visit from Thorsten and Grim, when I settled into my lair at the end of each night.
I couldn't think of any reason why I might not go back to work and earn a few dollars. Taryn and Jeremy had both cautioned me about close contact with humans. But a business transaction — while physically, um, intimate — didn't result in any real connection.
I also thought that Grant Park might be a good place for me to hunt. That part of the park was fairly isolated. And it wasn't like those who went there told anyone where they could be found. I could earn money and survey for victims at the same time. It really made a lot of sense.
It also occurred to me that I might share my hunting ground with a close friend or two. It seemed like just the place for Dylan. The sort of people he preferred to hunt were there in abundance.
The only problem with working there again was avoiding contact with Mike. I knew that if we ever saw each other again, all the world's vampire prohibitions against contact with humans would go out the window.
As it was, I often struggled to resist tiptoeing to the other end of the church basement, even just to check on him. I was finding that the worst part of a life in darkness wasn't avoiding the sun that would burn my body to ash, it was avoiding the sun that had warmed my soul for the better part of a year.
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