Chapter 21

  Cold misty rain fell the following evening as Amy and Ruthie departed from their lair in search of blood and possibly a new member of their family. They crossed several blocks to once again search the main street they had surveyed the night before and found many a victim in the past in the dark alleys. Moving stealthily along the streets' shadowed edges, they soon arrived at their destination and savored the delicious aroma of the passersby as they traveled from hotel to pub and back again.

  Two whalers had returned to port that afternoon after several months at sea and the crews were exhausted but hungry for civilization and impatient to spend their wages. Music and laughter spilled out into the drizzle-dampened street along with the cheery sailors as they pursued refreshment and women.

  "We'll not have to look far to feed tonight," Amy observed as she and Ruthie slipped slowly up the street with their hoods pulled low over their faces.

  "I don't suppose we will," Ruthie replied, "but we need to be especially careful not to be seen feeding. There's men everywhere tonight," As she spoke she narrowly avoided colliding with two staggering sailors who stunk of whiskey and tobacco as well as blood as they traveled in the opposite direction as the vampires.

  "Let's find a less crowded hunting ground," Amy suggested, "perhaps the alleys toward the rear of the two hotels across the street."

  "That's probably where I'll find some big fat rats tonight," Ruthie said optimistically, "I'm sure there's more trash and food scraps than normal back there tonight and if there's no rats there'll be some other animals for sure."

  "We may even find some unconscious men back there tonight," Amy hoped.

  Dread flooded over Ruthie as she followed Amy up a dark side street toward the rear alley behind the nearest hotel. No matter how many men they victimized and murdered, Ruthie still dreaded the act and was overwhelmed with guilt and doom as she imagined their souls being condemned to burn in hell for eternity for their murderous acts. If Amy found a man in the alley, helplessly vulnerable in a drunken stupor, there would be no persuading her from feasting on his alcohol saturated blood; Instantly making Ruthie accomplice to one more murder. Silently, Ruthie prayed that the alley would be deserted as they slipped through the dark narrow passageway from the side street toward the rear entrance of the hotel.

  After searching through the dampened debris and behind the ash bins Ruthie breathed a sigh of relief and gave thanks to the Lord that the alley was vacant while Amy stomped her delicate foot in disappointment, "It must be too early in the evening for sailors to be drunk enough for eviction by the tavern owners."

  "I'm glad for that," Ruthie remarked, "and I'm going to find me some rat blood."

  "Rats are bad enough, Ruthie," Amy said with disgust, "but wet-furred rats are even worse."

  "At least I won't be murdering," Ruthie crept toward a corner where rubbish was piled, her back toward Amy and the back door of the hotel.

  A loud crash made the girls abruptly turn toward the hotel as the back door violently slammed open and the alley briefly filled with light, music and laughter along with the stench of tobacco smoke and spilled alcohol before the door closed again. Amy quickly joined Ruthie in the corner just before the door slammed open once again knocking against the wooden clapboards of the hotel. This time, though, the door remained open long enough for two struggling people to tumble out and fall into the alley.

  Hidden in the dark from the two people on the filthy wet ground, Amy and Ruthie stared in surprise and curiosity at the two writhing figures on the ground.

  "Get off of me!" the bottom figure shrieked as she struggled to free herself.

  "I've got you right where I want you," the man on top of the woman laughed in triumph, "you think you'd be happy to make some extra money. You don't think you can make a living on a barmaid's wages do you?"

  "If I wanted to be a prostitute, I wouldn't have taken a job as a barmaid," the woman still struggled uselessly as the drunken man held her to the ground.

  "Don't act dumb," the man said, "you're old enough to know what would be expected of you here."

  Realizing she couldn't free herself without help, the trapped barmaid began to call for help while the man rubbed his sweaty stubble covered face into her neck and her hair that had come loose in the struggle.

  "Nobody will help you now," the man said as he held her wrists keeping her from freeing herself. She began to sob as she continued to call for help, "but keep wiggling around like that and I'm sure to get my money's worth."

  Amy and Ruthie watched in horror from across the alley. Feelings of shame and rage raced through Ruthie as memories of her own victimization at the hands of her former master forced their way without warning into her consciousness and she fiercely dove at the attacker and with a hand on each of his shoulders tore him off the barmaid and threw him sprawling against the brick wall where he landed stunned at Amy's feet. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was Amy's dark form falling toward him as she bent to swiftly lift his neck to meet her open mouth.

  With the attacker out of the way, Ruthie offered the barmaid her hand, but the barmaid still fearful and untrusting, shrunk from Ruthie's offer of help and brought herself to her feet under her own strength before confronting her rescuer.

  "Are you all right?" Ruthie asked from under her dark hood.

  "Yes," the barmaid replied shakily and her eyes darted around the alley in search of her attacker.

  Without even a glance behind her, Ruthie knew Amy would make a meal out of the man she tossed in her direction, "you won't be bothered by that man again," she assured the woman just as the frightened barmaid's eyes glancing over Ruthie's shoulder saw Amy triumphantly drop the body of her former attacker in a heap behind the ash cans.

  Realizing the barmaid was looking past her and seeing her expression turn from fear to terror, Ruthie turned and followed her gaze and was appalled at Amy's carelessness, "Amy," she scolded, "what are you doing?"

  "You threw him to me," Amy said in defense as she approached the two women.

  "You," the barmaid stared wide-eyed at Amy as she casually approached, "you killed him?"

  "Did you want him to live to victimize you or someone else again?" Amy asked.

  "They'll hang you for it," the barmaid felt a different kind of fear now, "they'll hang all three of us. You didn't have to kill him."

  "They won't hang us if they don't catch us," Amy stated confidently, "we need to leave here before someone sees us here."

  As the three fled the alley the barmaid said, "Everyone in the room saw me leave with him. I'll be suspected as his murderess."

  "It's all right," Ruthie assured her, "you didn't kill that man and you won't pay for the crime."

  Passing through the shadows of the back streets, the two hooded vampires fled the scene with their new acquaintance between them as Reverend Williams exited an adjacent alley just before the three women rounded the corner at the end of the street. Curiosity and a glimmer of familiarity caused him to take notice of the retreating figures and then recognition set in as he recalled the two caped figures he saw moving away from the site of the massacre at the cotton gin mill a few months earlier. Women were evil and untrustworthy in his opinion, all spawned from the original Eve who had defied God's orders and made men's lives on earth a living hell by causing God to expel all men from paradise as punishment for her sinful ways.

  Continuing his nightly search through the dark wet side streets and alleyways, the stern young reverend entered the side street the three women had recently fled. He saw the passersby crossing the mouth of the side street as they traveled the main street and heard the sounds of the music grow louder as he moved closer to the rear of the busy hotels and taverns the vampires had stalked earlier. Reverend Horace William's recently nonexistent congregation had grown significantly since its inception more than a year ago on his arrival from his father's farm in his hometown of Salem. His congregation of fifteen consisted of mostly street people
who simply couldn't or wouldn't conform to the demands and constraints of society. People whose families had enjoyed generations on farms that had now become unproductive or bankrupt and couldn't endure the drastically different lifestyles offered in factory work or shipping became alcoholics, beggars and vagrants in the city. Reverend Williams tried to save their sinning souls and give them hope for the afterlife even though they had lost all hope for their earth bound lives.

  Entering the trash-strewn alley the three girls had recently fled, Reverend Williams stopped to listen for any signs of movement. He had to strain his ears to hear anything over the music and laughter inside the hotel tavern. Hearing nothing he moved further into the darkness to peer into the dark corners and shadows. Accidentally kicking an ash can he heard a gurgling noise, someone gasping for air behind the can. On closer inspection he found himself leaning over the barmaid's attacker. Alarmed he knelt over the injured man and tried to raise him, but found it was useless. The heart was barely beating.

  "Who did this to you?" Williams asked.

  "Her," the dying man breathed with his final breath.

  "Her," Reverend Horace Williams hardened with hatred as though the dying man had only confirmed his suspicions instead of simply offering a clue. Then Williams recalled the three women fleeing the area and became certain who the murderers were, "Of course."

  Continuing a few blocks beyond their lair, Amy and Ruthie guided the confused, frightened barmaid to the city's colonial burial ground, which would be deserted and safe to hold a discussion regarding the barmaid's predicament. Amy knew what her solution to the barmaid's problem would be and Ruthie suspected Amy's plan.

  "Who are you?" the barmaid asked as she sat on the dead wet grass to catch her breath, "you two aren't winded at all after that brisk walk."

  "Never mind about us for the moment," Amy spread her cloak around her as she sat on the ground opposite their new acquaintance while Ruthie nervously remained standing. Leaves lay matted and damp around them, but the drizzle had subsided, "who are you? You apparently aren't an experienced barmaid judging from the scene we witnessed."

  "Tonight was my first night at that job and my last," she answered sullenly, "my name is Susie and until a couple of months ago I worked at the cotton gin mill."

  "The one where the mob was attacked?" Ruthie asked.

  "That's the one," Susie answered, "and that's the reason I no longer work there. To teach the other workers a lesson on what could happen to protesters, some of us who were accused of organizing the protest were fired to set an example."

  "Several of the protesters were killed in the street," Amy interjected, "those people weren't enough of an example?"

  "I don't suppose so," Susie answered, "in addition to being fired, our names were given to the other mill owners in town as troublemakers so none of the other mills would hire us."

  "Don't you have a husband?" Ruthie asked as she joined Susie and Amy on the ground.

  "No," Susie replied, "I'm a widow. My husband died a while back when a mysterious sickness killed several men in my neighborhood."

  Amy and Ruthie looked at one another and knew the mysterious illness that killed her husband was vampirism.

  "Roger wasn't a good husband," Susie continued, "he spent most of his wage in the taverns, came home drunk and beat me, but he was better than no husband at all."

  "You would prefer to have a living husband who kept you in poverty and beat you than be free of his abuse?" Amy asked incredulously while Ruthie gave Amy a knowing look.

  "We have three children to feed," Susie said, "the oldest is six and not quite old enough to work regularly. I have to leave them home alone while I work now that Roger is gone and, of course, my wages aren't close to what he earned."

  "Good Lord," Ruthie exclaimed, "and now you're in an even worse fix," she looked at Amy, "and it's all our fault."

  "No," Susie replied, "it's not all your fault. Only my being prime suspect in that patron's murder."

  "Patron!" Amy exclaimed, "I could think of several more suitable names to describe that horrible man."

  "He seemed to be an average man, in my opinion," Susie said sadly.

  "Average man maybe," Amy said, "but certainly unlike any gentleman I've ever been acquainted with."

  Susie suddenly noticed Amy's manner and means of dress and it occurred to her that Amy's style didn't reflect at all the circumstances and environment she met her in, "What the devil was a young lady like you doing in a back alley of a hotel this time of evening?"

  The two vampires exchanged glances before Amy answered, "I am no longer the lady I was born and raised to be. I myself have had a severe life transformation and now must frequent places such as the alley in which we met."

  "All right," Susie's curiosity was pacified for the moment, but not completely. She turned to Ruthie, "and why are you accompanying a lady who isn't a lady anymore?"

  Ruthie opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Amy became defensive, "Ruthie is not my servant. Ruthie is the most intelligent God-fearing woman I've ever met. In fact, we consider ourselves to be sisters. She is not to be assumed to be my servant simply because she is a Negro."

  "What else is a person to assume?" Susie replied in her own defense, "you're prim and proper and dressed for a ball while she's dressed in a housedress. Don't be angry with me. I'm sure anyone else would think the same. Besides if anyone should be angry, it should be me. You got me in a lot of trouble. I've lost another job and will be wanted for murder."

  "Would you rather have been ravished by that animal?" Amy asked.

  Dropping her eyes to the ground between them, Susie said, "No, I suppose not. I don't even care that he's dead. I only care that I'm going to hang for it."

  "If anyone hangs for his murder, it won't be you, Susie," Amy spoke softly but with conviction as she bared her fangs before Susie.

  Susie raised her eyes toward Amy and they grew with terror and surprise as Ruthie quietly looked on having suspected since their meeting in the alley that Amy had chosen Susie as their next family member.

  Before Susie could collect her wits and try to escape, Amy was looming over her and as she grasped Susie's arms it was too late for Susie to attempt an escape, futile as it would be. As Amy fed and Susie began to lose consciousness, Ruthie on her knees moved closer to Amy. Amy sensing Ruthie's nearness surrendered Susie to Ruthie just as Ruthie had surrendered to Amy her denial to bring another member to their dark secluded lair.

  Amy instructed Ruthie in transforming Susie by having Ruthie bite open a vein in her own arm and forcing Susie to feed from it. As with Ruthie, Amy had to jostle and fight Susie into vague consciousness to make her drink the blood that would cause Susie to rise again in immortality.