Chapter 17
Another source of blood become available one night in the vicinities of the city's growing number of factories as workers organized to protest harsh working conditions and low pay. The increase in production in recent decades had brought workers into the city hoping for a better way of life and one that had the potential of a regular more secure income that farming didn't provide. Men and women entering the city alone by train had been Amy's recent source of blood, as they were strangers unfamiliar with the city and wouldn't be noticed missing by any of the regular citizens. Ruthie reluctantly approved these attacks for Amy only because of the social obscurity of the victims. She would pray dearly for the soul of the victim and mourn the death of these desperate and hopeful travelers who had been dreaming of making a better life for themselves and their families.
Long work hours of twelve to sixteen hours a day six or even seven days a week had become normal for the factory workers producing cotton gins, coffee mills, crackers and textiles. Only two short breaks were allowed, one for lunch and one for dinner. Children under ten years old worked the same hours as adults and were vulnerable to the same injuries and health problems in the dangerous environment of the factories that used chemicals for processing raw materials and whale oil and gas lamps to work past dark. Textile workers breathed in the fiber-filled air along with the other fumes. These hardships and dangers increased when factoring in the fatigue of the workers who were in danger of losing hands or fingers and their hearing from hours of exposure to the speeding machinery.
In the past Amy and Ruthie had considered exhausted factory workers walking home in the dark as easy prey, but resisted them in respect for their hard lives and the families who depended on them for survival. However, seeing them in large masses protesting in the dark streets outside the mills filling the air with their bloody scent drew Amy and Ruthie toward them like flies to meat. They lurked in alleys close enough to hear the chants of the workers demanding more pay, shorter workdays and safer conditions. Ruthie having been a worker sympathized more readily with the workers than Amy who, with her wealthy background, never worked before becoming a vampire and never had to feed and dress herself and had no experience of running a household on a small budget.
One evening as they stood in an alley watching the crowd and listening to the chanting and the individual speeches, galloping horses could be heard approaching. The speeches stopped and the crowd turned toward the sound of the horses in curiosity and apprehension. Amy and Ruthie moved closer in order to also see who the horses were bringing into the protest. In fact, the attention of the protesters was so wholly absorbed by the approaching horses that Amy and Ruthie, their hoods of their cloaks over their heads, were able to exit the alley completely and view the entire scene.
It was soon obvious that lawmen were astride the horses and their stern expressions showed they had a mission to perform and orders to obey. Without dismounting the lead man addressed the muted crowd, "Your employer, Mr. Smith, has demanded your return to work tomorrow morning or you will no longer be employed at this mill. Anyone refusing to return to work tomorrow will be replaced immediately. He is willing to forgive your recent insubordination of the past two days that has stopped production. The company has orders to fill and will do so with you at your posts or with someone new at your posts. There will be no reduction in work hours and no increase in pay. In fact, when you return to your jobs tomorrow, your hourly pay will be reduced by five percent to make up for the loss of the past two days productivity you have inflicted on the company. This reduction in wages will continue until further notice."
Close to one hundred workers stood in the street, as they comprehended the news. The twenty horses snorted and stamped in impatience as the horsemen waited for the crowd to react. A low muttering began amongst the workers and the lead man spoke again, "You are all to go to your homes and clear the streets."
The muttering grew louder and a woman yelled, "That's all?" voicing the disillusioned sentiment of the crowd, "we protest to bring attention to our poor conditions in the hope of improving them and instead we are punished?"
"Why doesn't Mr. Smith come here himself to face us?" a man in the back asked.
"Because we're not important enough to leave his hearth in his mansion on a chilly night," answered a woman at the edge of the mass.
The lead man's tone became more menacing and the horses seemed more agitated, "My orders were to tell you the terms of your employment and to clear the streets."
"Clear this out of your streets!" called a woman with a Scottish brogue as she sailed a stone over the crowd and into the face of the lead man.
Amy and Ruthie stepped back against the mouth of the alley as the horsemen without warning attacked the mob sending people fleeing in fear for their lives and trampling the people who were unable to move out of the way. Amy delighted in this sudden turn of events while Ruthie watched in horror as people were crushed to death by horses' hooves and beaten viciously with clubs swinging from the riders' grips leaving the victims moaning and bleeding in the street, left to die as the riders, with no one left to assault, quickly abandoned the bloody scene.
Amy and Ruthie looked at each other in surprise and disbelief at the scene of human cruelty they had just witnessed. During the melee a beaten man had fallen into the alley at their feet and had been moaning but now lay silent. Amy knelt down and fed on his blood, which was already beginning to cool in the late autumn chill. She left enough blood for Ruthie to feed on which she did, noting how her share from closer to his heart was still as warm as life.
The girls exited the alley and stepping over bodies and splatters of blood walked toward the waterfront.
"Do you still think vampires are more evil than men after witnessing that scene?"
Ruthie remained silent for a moment and shook her head, "I can't understand the thinking of some men."
"Christian men," Amy added.
Reverend Williams entered the street after hearing the commotion and seeing the bleeding and fleeing victims rushing past him a block away. In the aftermath, the only movement he saw were leaves and trash gently blowing amongst the several corpses in the street and the back of two dark cloaks in the distance as they moved away from him. An expression of realization, affirmation and disgust settled on his face as he whispered, "Women."
"I had no idea peoples' lives were so difficult," Amy admitted as they returned to their lair and Ruthie settled down at the table for her Bible study.
"How can you have spent so much time in the streets and not know the trials people live through trying to survive?" Ruthie asked incredulously.
"I suppose I never thought about it," Amy sat at the table with her hairbrush in her hand.
"That shouldn't surprise me after your thoughtlessness toward your maid," Ruthie answered, "but didn't you learn anything about those families in that poor old neighborhood where we killed so many men?"
"I thought those families were in such deplorable situations because their men were cruel and poor providers, unlike my father," Amy twirled her hairbrush in her hand.
"No," Ruthie corrected, "your father isn't an average man. He's rich and powerful because of all the ships he owns. All the other men look to men like your father to give them jobs so they can feed their families."
"Then my father provides a great service to the men of the city by making jobs available to them."
"You could look at it that way."
"In what other ways could I look at it?" Amy brushed her hair.
"You could look at it that your father gets rich by using the labor of a lot of poor men to make himself rich."
Amy paused in her brushing, "That makes my father sound like a selfish greedy man."
"That's how all business men are," Ruthie explained, "that's how they get rich."
"That's not a nice thing to say about my father," Amy returned to brushing her hair in agitation.
"Why are you getting upset?" Ruthie asked, "Remember
why he wanted you to marry that man you didn't love?"
Amy's arms dropped to the table and she looked into the flame of the candle, "Oh, yes, that's why I had to escape to be with Robert." She was quiet for another minute and got up from the table to put her hairbrush away, "My father is probably even friends with that Mr. Smith who forces his employees to work those long hours in dangerous conditions. He hired those men to beat them back into submission."
"His only concern was the two days of production he lost," Ruthie added.
"Well," Amy tried to brighten her tone as she arranged her hair back into Robert's favorite shape after the hood of her cloak and the wind had mussed it, "let's not think of that anymore. Let's think of happier subjects."
"What do you have in mind?" Ruthie asked with some apprehension.
"Who shall become the new member of our family?"
"You know how I feel about that subject and making another person into one of us is not a happy subject."
"It will be," Amy said confidently, "you'll see."
"When the right person comes along, we'll know it," Ruthie suggested.
"Is that just your way of avoiding the issue or do you really believe that?"
"Well, do you have any suggestions?" Ruthie challenged Amy.
"No," Amy became defensive, "not yet. But I'm certain Robert will return very soon and I don't want you to be alone once we're reunited. We haven't studied much of the population yet. We're usually trying to avoid being seen. From now on we'll have to pay more attention to the people we're hiding from."
"We sure got a close up view of those people tonight."
"Not individually," Amy added, "that was simply one mob confronting another. The dead and dying were the only individuals we were able to see."
"And that was something I didn't need to see."
"Well," Amy brightened, "tomorrow night we'll begin our search in earnest."