Chapter 2 - The Living Dead
New York City One month earlier
The city was almost quiet. Almost calm.
A steady flow of cars, a homeless man muttering, a drunken trio singing in the background: to Faith's ears, these sounds and others combined to produce little more than a low murmur. White noise-it could almost lull a baby to sleep.
Sighing, Faith stopped walking and kicked an imaginary pebble on the sidewalk in front of her. She looked up and stared at the sky, which from her vantage point was framed by the tall, looming buildings surrounding her. No stars, no moon, no clouds. All she could see was a dark, murky gray. A dull feeling came over her.
It was lonely being dead.
She'd been living in the city for almost a year now-the city that supposedly never slept. Even at god-awful hours like the present, there was always someone trudging about. At the moment, that someone happened to be herself. But she wasn't trudging.
She was hunting.
Well, she figured as she resumed walking, someone had to do it. New York had a disproportionately large population of vampires. Smart ones, too. They kept their numbers hidden. They blended in well with the living. Heck, most of them had more fashion sense than she'd ever had-even now.
They hung out at the trendiest nightclubs, dined at the finest restaurants. Some of them even had jobs. Many of them were well-to-do. Like that Emily chick. Faith recalled meeting Spike's sister in London. She'd been like them-loaded and sophisticated.
And now in New York, Faith sought out the local vampires. Tracked them down. When she found herself a likely target, she followed the unsuspecting victim around for a few nights, learning their routine, their habits-and getting an idea of their net worth.
Okay, so she wasn't doing this for purely altruistic purposes, but she was doing the city a service. And if she happened to pick up some extra cash, a Rolex watch, a tennis bracelet, or some other valuable item in the process-so be it.
After the money that Giles had given her in London had run out, she'd tried her hand at several jobs-all minimum wage. Giles had given her a new identity and-a fresh start.
She could do anything. Be anyone.
But what was that, really?
Slaying vampires wasn't exactly a skill today's employers were looking for. If she'd been smart, she would've fabricated a glowing resume and wowed interviewers with her impeccable 'qualifications.'
But she couldn't do that.
Funny. Lying had always come naturally to her. One of the few things she actually did well.
But that was before. Before she'd decided to turn her life around; seize the chance she'd been given.
Before she'd died.
Now lying was hard. Especially when it involved answering all sorts of questions about degrees she'd never obtained and past jobs she'd never held.
After a month in the city, she'd ended up bussing tables, washing dishes, and even wrapping presents during the holidays. Her paychecks hadn't exactly been enough to live on, so.
She'd decided to prey on the predators.
Technically, the city already had a Slayer: Hope Mason was the newest girl called up to do the Council's dirty work. But Faith figured that there were enough vamps here to go around. And besides, from what she'd seen, this new girl didn't appear to be much of a fighter.
In fact, she kind of fought like she had a death wish. Faith had seen the signs. The empty look in her eyes, the zombie-like gait, the 'ho-hum' approach to slaying. The girl was clearly 'going through the motions.' It was just a matter of time until she'd get her wish.
Too bad.
Faith bit her lip. Maybe she could help the girl. After all, it was a subject she was familiar with. She'd been there once.
Well, maybe.
But it was risky. Although Faith often shadowed Hope on the girl's nightly patrols, she was always careful to keep her distance-to maintain her anonymity.
The Council believed her dead. She was a ghost. If she wanted to stay alive, she needed to remain a ghost. If they ever discovered the truth, they'd come after her with their so-called 'elite' squad-Assassins.
She was sure of it.
Faith stopped and stared across the street at a popular nightclub. Although it was twenty minutes before closing time, there was still a long line of hopefuls standing in front of the modern, glass and granite building. She surveyed the people in front of the establishment. As she'd expected, her intended victim was not one of them; he never emerged before closing.
Glancing at her watch, she retreated into the shadows of a nearby alley.
* * *
Minutes away, in an overpriced flat on the twenty-fifth floor of a stately Manhattan apartment building, the newest slayer awoke with a start, springing up to a sitting position like a child's pop-up toy. Her hands immediately went to her neck, feeling to make sure that-it wasn't broken.
No, it was just a dream. The dream. Again.
Hope exhaled slowly. Was it relief or disappointment that she felt? She couldn't be sure.
The images still lingered in her mind. Shadows flickering like the erratic, cold lighting of the subway car from her dream. On and off. Again and again. Until.
She recalled the man-or Thing. He hadn't been human. She knew that now. He'd been one of them. Those creatures she now spent her evenings fighting; now that she was a Slayer.
In her dream, he'd smiled, held out his hand and asked her to dance. And she'd gazed into his eyes-clear blue like the sky-and felt herself become weightless. Her feet left the ground as she began to float. Up, up, up. Until she closed her eyes and felt herself come crashing down.
Then, lying on the hard floor of the subway car, she'd looked up at him, seeing him again-this time as he really was. The smile was now a sneer. The eyes now clouded. And she wasn't dancing. She was fighting.
And still, although exchanging blows with a monster, she continued to stare at his face. The even perfection of his features appeared carved from stone.
They continued to battle in slow motion, as if underwater, until the lights went out again. In the darkness, she felt herself trapped in the vampire's cool, vice-like grip. She felt his hands at her throat. His fingers tightening.
The lights came back on and she found herself lying beneath him, his face looming just inches above hers. She looked into his eyes and again was reminded of the sky-clear blue. She felt herself floating again; letting go.
The hands at her throat tightened once more.
And then she'd wake up, feeling scared, but serene; light-headed and shaky.
Shivering, Hope slid out of bed. The sheets felt cool and almost clammy. She went to the window and looked down at the city that, in spite of the late hour, was still full of life.
She decided to go out for a walk-to shake off the dream. She padded over to her closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater.
Although she knew it wasn't necessary, she dressed herself as quietly as possible. Her efforts though, were more for her own benefit than anyone else's. Her mother was a sound sleeper-compliments of a nightly dose of Valium and vodka. Hope could've marched through the apartment banging a big bass drum and her mother wouldn't have so much as rolled over.
But it gave Hope a sense of normalcy. Of being a regular teenager with a regular mother-one who cared. One who'd notice if her daughter were out late every night, or covered with blood and ashes when she came home.
Sighing, the newest slayer slipped on her sneakers, tiptoed through her living room and carefully unlocked the door. She stepped out into the red- carpeted hallway and felt a chill as a blast from the building's central air conditioning hit her.
The corridor was always too cold. Almost supernaturally so. Hope made her way to the elevator, pressed the down button, then hugged her arms around her chest as she stood waiting.
She recalled the dream and let out a shaky exhale. She pictured the man- the vampire-with his bleached blonde hair and fathomless blue eyes; his sneering smile and cat-like grace.
She reflected on her own struggles and fears. And then thought about peace.
She thought about walking. No, searching. Her heart beat faster.
Searching for him.
* * *
Standing in the dark alley, Faith shifted her weight from left foot to right, rolled her shoulders back a couple of times then bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. God, how she hated waiting!
She glanced down at her watch for the fifth time in the last few minutes. Finally! Three o 'clock.
No more waiting.
She stared across the street and scanned the crowd of predominantly human patrons filing out of the club. Not him. Or him. Not that one. Or.
Ah, that's my boy! Her lips curved upward into a predatory smile. She surveyed his tall, broad-shouldered form; his dark hair, perfect features. He was almost angelic. Or Angel-like. He reminded her of Angel. They could've been brothers.
Faith had watched this particular vampire for almost a week now-longer than she usually did. She'd rather enjoyed stalking him and was almost sad to have to end it tonight. But she would. She was almost out of cash.
The vampire stuck his hands in his dark trench coat and headed down the sidewalk alone. He was always alone.
She had wondered what his story was. She guessed it was complicated. He so reminded her of Buffy's vampire ex-boyfriend. Right down to the whole brooding bit. Of course, he was probably just brooding about having drunk a nasty glass of A negative blood that didn't agree with him or something similar-she doubted it could be anything more. More than likely, he didn't have a soul. Angel was pretty unique that way.
Walking briskly, the vampire headed away from the club. Faith knew the routine by now. He was going to his uptown flat. She didn't have much time. It was just a couple of blocks away. She quickened her pace- planning to catch up to him at the next block-there was an alley on the way that was always pretty deserted, and dark.
She cut the distance between them in half and was quickly gaining. The alley would be coming up soon. She had to move just a little faster.
He stopped.
Faith slowed her approach to almost a standstill. Two small creases formed between her brows as she stared at her prospective prey. There was a girl in front of him, blocking his path. He tried to step around her, but she moved to stop him. He took a couple of steps back and gestured for her to go first. A gentleman vampire.
The girl just stood there. He stepped back and to the side, giving her even more room. And this is when Faith got a clear view of her. She immediately recognized her. Skinny, short, lank brown hair.
Hope Mason.
Damn, Faith hoped the brat slayer wouldn't ruin her plans. The vampire was no good to her dusted. He had to be 'stripped' first-of his belongings. Everything, especially the thick wad of green and white paper rolled up and kept in his coat pocket, would turn to ashes if he were prematurely staked.
Now that just wouldn't do.
Faith gritted her teeth and started walking toward the vampire and Slayer.
New York City One month earlier
The city was almost quiet. Almost calm.
A steady flow of cars, a homeless man muttering, a drunken trio singing in the background: to Faith's ears, these sounds and others combined to produce little more than a low murmur. White noise-it could almost lull a baby to sleep.
Sighing, Faith stopped walking and kicked an imaginary pebble on the sidewalk in front of her. She looked up and stared at the sky, which from her vantage point was framed by the tall, looming buildings surrounding her. No stars, no moon, no clouds. All she could see was a dark, murky gray. A dull feeling came over her.
It was lonely being dead.
She'd been living in the city for almost a year now-the city that supposedly never slept. Even at god-awful hours like the present, there was always someone trudging about. At the moment, that someone happened to be herself. But she wasn't trudging.
She was hunting.
Well, she figured as she resumed walking, someone had to do it. New York had a disproportionately large population of vampires. Smart ones, too. They kept their numbers hidden. They blended in well with the living. Heck, most of them had more fashion sense than she'd ever had-even now.
They hung out at the trendiest nightclubs, dined at the finest restaurants. Some of them even had jobs. Many of them were well-to-do. Like that Emily chick. Faith recalled meeting Spike's sister in London. She'd been like them-loaded and sophisticated.
And now in New York, Faith sought out the local vampires. Tracked them down. When she found herself a likely target, she followed the unsuspecting victim around for a few nights, learning their routine, their habits-and getting an idea of their net worth.
Okay, so she wasn't doing this for purely altruistic purposes, but she was doing the city a service. And if she happened to pick up some extra cash, a Rolex watch, a tennis bracelet, or some other valuable item in the process-so be it.
After the money that Giles had given her in London had run out, she'd tried her hand at several jobs-all minimum wage. Giles had given her a new identity and-a fresh start.
She could do anything. Be anyone.
But what was that, really?
Slaying vampires wasn't exactly a skill today's employers were looking for. If she'd been smart, she would've fabricated a glowing resume and wowed interviewers with her impeccable 'qualifications.'
But she couldn't do that.
Funny. Lying had always come naturally to her. One of the few things she actually did well.
But that was before. Before she'd decided to turn her life around; seize the chance she'd been given.
Before she'd died.
Now lying was hard. Especially when it involved answering all sorts of questions about degrees she'd never obtained and past jobs she'd never held.
After a month in the city, she'd ended up bussing tables, washing dishes, and even wrapping presents during the holidays. Her paychecks hadn't exactly been enough to live on, so.
She'd decided to prey on the predators.
Technically, the city already had a Slayer: Hope Mason was the newest girl called up to do the Council's dirty work. But Faith figured that there were enough vamps here to go around. And besides, from what she'd seen, this new girl didn't appear to be much of a fighter.
In fact, she kind of fought like she had a death wish. Faith had seen the signs. The empty look in her eyes, the zombie-like gait, the 'ho-hum' approach to slaying. The girl was clearly 'going through the motions.' It was just a matter of time until she'd get her wish.
Too bad.
Faith bit her lip. Maybe she could help the girl. After all, it was a subject she was familiar with. She'd been there once.
Well, maybe.
But it was risky. Although Faith often shadowed Hope on the girl's nightly patrols, she was always careful to keep her distance-to maintain her anonymity.
The Council believed her dead. She was a ghost. If she wanted to stay alive, she needed to remain a ghost. If they ever discovered the truth, they'd come after her with their so-called 'elite' squad-Assassins.
She was sure of it.
Faith stopped and stared across the street at a popular nightclub. Although it was twenty minutes before closing time, there was still a long line of hopefuls standing in front of the modern, glass and granite building. She surveyed the people in front of the establishment. As she'd expected, her intended victim was not one of them; he never emerged before closing.
Glancing at her watch, she retreated into the shadows of a nearby alley.
* * *
Minutes away, in an overpriced flat on the twenty-fifth floor of a stately Manhattan apartment building, the newest slayer awoke with a start, springing up to a sitting position like a child's pop-up toy. Her hands immediately went to her neck, feeling to make sure that-it wasn't broken.
No, it was just a dream. The dream. Again.
Hope exhaled slowly. Was it relief or disappointment that she felt? She couldn't be sure.
The images still lingered in her mind. Shadows flickering like the erratic, cold lighting of the subway car from her dream. On and off. Again and again. Until.
She recalled the man-or Thing. He hadn't been human. She knew that now. He'd been one of them. Those creatures she now spent her evenings fighting; now that she was a Slayer.
In her dream, he'd smiled, held out his hand and asked her to dance. And she'd gazed into his eyes-clear blue like the sky-and felt herself become weightless. Her feet left the ground as she began to float. Up, up, up. Until she closed her eyes and felt herself come crashing down.
Then, lying on the hard floor of the subway car, she'd looked up at him, seeing him again-this time as he really was. The smile was now a sneer. The eyes now clouded. And she wasn't dancing. She was fighting.
And still, although exchanging blows with a monster, she continued to stare at his face. The even perfection of his features appeared carved from stone.
They continued to battle in slow motion, as if underwater, until the lights went out again. In the darkness, she felt herself trapped in the vampire's cool, vice-like grip. She felt his hands at her throat. His fingers tightening.
The lights came back on and she found herself lying beneath him, his face looming just inches above hers. She looked into his eyes and again was reminded of the sky-clear blue. She felt herself floating again; letting go.
The hands at her throat tightened once more.
And then she'd wake up, feeling scared, but serene; light-headed and shaky.
Shivering, Hope slid out of bed. The sheets felt cool and almost clammy. She went to the window and looked down at the city that, in spite of the late hour, was still full of life.
She decided to go out for a walk-to shake off the dream. She padded over to her closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater.
Although she knew it wasn't necessary, she dressed herself as quietly as possible. Her efforts though, were more for her own benefit than anyone else's. Her mother was a sound sleeper-compliments of a nightly dose of Valium and vodka. Hope could've marched through the apartment banging a big bass drum and her mother wouldn't have so much as rolled over.
But it gave Hope a sense of normalcy. Of being a regular teenager with a regular mother-one who cared. One who'd notice if her daughter were out late every night, or covered with blood and ashes when she came home.
Sighing, the newest slayer slipped on her sneakers, tiptoed through her living room and carefully unlocked the door. She stepped out into the red- carpeted hallway and felt a chill as a blast from the building's central air conditioning hit her.
The corridor was always too cold. Almost supernaturally so. Hope made her way to the elevator, pressed the down button, then hugged her arms around her chest as she stood waiting.
She recalled the dream and let out a shaky exhale. She pictured the man- the vampire-with his bleached blonde hair and fathomless blue eyes; his sneering smile and cat-like grace.
She reflected on her own struggles and fears. And then thought about peace.
She thought about walking. No, searching. Her heart beat faster.
Searching for him.
* * *
Standing in the dark alley, Faith shifted her weight from left foot to right, rolled her shoulders back a couple of times then bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. God, how she hated waiting!
She glanced down at her watch for the fifth time in the last few minutes. Finally! Three o 'clock.
No more waiting.
She stared across the street and scanned the crowd of predominantly human patrons filing out of the club. Not him. Or him. Not that one. Or.
Ah, that's my boy! Her lips curved upward into a predatory smile. She surveyed his tall, broad-shouldered form; his dark hair, perfect features. He was almost angelic. Or Angel-like. He reminded her of Angel. They could've been brothers.
Faith had watched this particular vampire for almost a week now-longer than she usually did. She'd rather enjoyed stalking him and was almost sad to have to end it tonight. But she would. She was almost out of cash.
The vampire stuck his hands in his dark trench coat and headed down the sidewalk alone. He was always alone.
She had wondered what his story was. She guessed it was complicated. He so reminded her of Buffy's vampire ex-boyfriend. Right down to the whole brooding bit. Of course, he was probably just brooding about having drunk a nasty glass of A negative blood that didn't agree with him or something similar-she doubted it could be anything more. More than likely, he didn't have a soul. Angel was pretty unique that way.
Walking briskly, the vampire headed away from the club. Faith knew the routine by now. He was going to his uptown flat. She didn't have much time. It was just a couple of blocks away. She quickened her pace- planning to catch up to him at the next block-there was an alley on the way that was always pretty deserted, and dark.
She cut the distance between them in half and was quickly gaining. The alley would be coming up soon. She had to move just a little faster.
He stopped.
Faith slowed her approach to almost a standstill. Two small creases formed between her brows as she stared at her prospective prey. There was a girl in front of him, blocking his path. He tried to step around her, but she moved to stop him. He took a couple of steps back and gestured for her to go first. A gentleman vampire.
The girl just stood there. He stepped back and to the side, giving her even more room. And this is when Faith got a clear view of her. She immediately recognized her. Skinny, short, lank brown hair.
Hope Mason.
Damn, Faith hoped the brat slayer wouldn't ruin her plans. The vampire was no good to her dusted. He had to be 'stripped' first-of his belongings. Everything, especially the thick wad of green and white paper rolled up and kept in his coat pocket, would turn to ashes if he were prematurely staked.
Now that just wouldn't do.
Faith gritted her teeth and started walking toward the vampire and Slayer.
