by Keith Stebbins
July 14th, 2010
It was quiet night. Cale enjoyed quiet nights. He was driving back from what would certainly go down in history as one of the best shows the city has seen in ages. The band was in rare form tonight, the ladies, lovely as ever. It was late, or early depending on who was looking at the clock, and he drove down the old two lane road. The lamp posts long burned out, the road only being highlighted by the moon, and the lights from his 64 Shelby cobra.
The ride looked black against the shadows of the night. When the gentle beams of light brushed the paint though the cobalt blue glinted back. No one when with classics any more. Its all limos and Escalades, black paint with tinted windows. The maverick in the crowed goes with a prime white, or the seductress red. Classics though, they all forget the classics.
The lumber mills light glared out into the night. A big worn out sign, cutting through the black. He was going to crash here for the day, finish some paper work. It was funny, even in the Anarchs a blue blood still had paper work, he wondered if any other clan had that problem.
The car rolled smoothly into the drive way. And it stopped on a time at the electronic gate. Cale reached into the glove box, and tapped the remote key. The long plate doors shuddered, there was a cracking noise, and then silence.
“Mother fuck…” the young man cursed under his breath as he got out of the car. “None of this shit ever works like its suppose to.” he reached out and pushed his fingers into the space between the gate shudders. He pushed out, opening a few broken doors didn’t need supernatural strength no. Just a little shoulder power. The doors rolled a few more inches before they locked again. The space was just enough for him to get a peek inside. The doors till seemed to be on track. But there was something blocking the gears.
They kindred sighed to him self, and looked over his shoulder, and squinted into the night. Even in an empty area like this, you never know who’s watching. Those cell phone cameras, they really made a shit mess of things.
Cale readied himself, focused his muscles, packed them with the power of his vitae. A sudden burst of power, launching himself in to the air and over the edge of the gate. His landing followed by a thud and the churning of dirt. He stood up quickly dusting off his system of a down t-shirt as he headed to the gear box.
It was smashed in, gears and cords exposed and scattered on the ground around in. Lodged into the metal casing, protruded a length of lead pipe. “What the fuck?” The seeming young man pulled the metal bar from the obliterated gear box and looked it over. “Shit..” just as soon as he began to mutter to himself a shot rang out across the empty lot. The bullet connected to a wall of unbreakable flesh and crumbled. Cale fought his bodies reaction to roll with the force of the shot. He glared into the store yard. A figure took off into the maze of cut wood. A growl choked out of the young ventrue’s throat, and fought of the urge of the beast. “I’m going to break your neck!” he screamed to his attacker as he gave chase after.
It only took a second to catch up, she was mortal. Cale could smell her adrenaline filled blood pumping through her veins, like a trail of perfume. He felt his lips curl in a vicious grin. He rounded a corner, and there she was. His quarry, just standing there. Her delicate frame off set with black fatigues and combat gear. She turned to him, her face concealed by a black silk mask, a red exclamation mark emblazed in the center.
The Ventrue, stopped regaining his senses caught in the dubious trap. “Oh shit” he blurted out looking around quickly for his prey’s back up. A metal bat greeted his teeth, the force behind the swing was inhuman. As he turned to his new attacker another with a empty masked face stared back at him. Five gun reports echoed out to his side packing against his flesh. Stumbled back, stunned from the bat strike, six attackers stood before him. “Breakers” He growled at them, from behind broken teeth. “ You should have learned the first time…”. His words echoed behind his blinding movement. The bat wielding kindred, lifted off its feet before it had time to react, cale looked into the faceless masked creature and smiled. “ I am going to teach you why you lost the last time.”
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Cale stood up from the body. It was cold and un-moving. “too far this time..” He looked over the other ghoul bodies. Two unconscious, pinned under a toppled lumber stack. Three more ghouls lay dead. Bent and broken at awkward angles. He winced as he walked by them, shaking his head, “too far”. He leaned over the torpored kindred, brushed off the shattered bullet proof vest, and picked up a shard of broken wood, aligned it with the heart, and hammered it in with his fists.
The survivors gathered into a neat pile interrogation would come soon. The dead bundled up with broken wood next to the industrial thresher. Cale looked back at the mess left from the fight. “ I’m going to need the hose.”
