Disclaimer: The Rabid Monks are a real band here in Vermont. I went to high school with them and they're still together. Check out their website. Also, I borrowed the lyrics from their song, so don't sue me. :)
Chapter Two: A Silent Winter Night
Bars were off limits to teenagers, typically. Fortunately, there were places in Bennington that a guy could go without getting into trouble…especially if he looked too young to be 22. Suzy Q's was one such place, and Sean wanted to be there.
The Rabid Monks were scheduled to play that night, and Sean nursed a ginger ale while Ryan and his band set up the equipment. They didn't speak much, Sean and Ryan. Back in high school Ryan was one of the "cool kids". A high profile, fast paced, chick magnet with the good looks and the money to boot. He wasn't a jerk by any means, but he knew where he belonged, and Sean never got to know him in the days before he "moved" from home.
"Hey," Ryan said, picking up a half empty bottle of Cherry 7UP he left on the floor.
"What's up?" Sean asked. He slipped off of the bar stool and carried his ginger ale to the band stage.
"Not much. How'd the meeting go?"
"All right. I don't think we'll be seeing Benjamin and those guys anymore."
"That's good. Eric was talking about sending me and my band out to Hoosic Falls for a couple of nights until things blew over."
People were beginning to crowd around the stage. Sean let Ryan get back to his work and went over to the Jukebox. He still had a few minutes before it got turned off for the band. Sean flipped through the racks of CD's before finding a song he liked, and popped in the required amount.
As Dead or Alive started up, Sean noticed several of his fellow Gangrel filling into the pool hall. He questioned one of his lieutenants as to how many were out on patrol, but he wasn't too worried. Sean sat in a corner alone for a while, sipping his soda and watching the door. He waved hi to Jeff Coulter, the co-founder bassist of the Rabid Monks, but he didn't chat. Toreador were notoriously obsessive when it came to their music, and by this time even Ryan would get annoyed if anyone tried to talk to him while they were setting up. Trent McCarthy, a Ventrue and another friend of Sean's in mortal life, came in and expressed some concern over the amount of Kindred at Suzy Q's. Sean assured him that no one would notice, and he'd have said something if he was worried anyway. Don't worry and just try to relax, we've all had a rough night.
Sean talked to Trent for a while. Then the band began to start up, and they drifted over to the band area and found a table. A few others were all ready sitting there, but it didn't matter. Most were humans. Sean could pick out the Gangrel, and the group of Toreadors from out of town.
All in all, it was a fairly decent evening. Alex Sanchez, the lead singer and guitarist stepped up to the mic.
"One, two, three, four!"
Instantly the music filled the room. The instruments blended and created the rhythm, and Alex's preternatural voice worked with the music rather than against it.
"She was made to be driven across concrete seas,
For a captain with the wheel in his hand
She was all pearly white, like a star in the night
And they called her the Good Ship Sam
Her first mate was crazy but quite competent
Adjusting the speeds as we go
And we met passers-by as we sailed through the night
And we called out quite loudly "YO-HO!"
"Who knows what we could find on our voyage
As we carelessly scour the land
But I'll dawn my sailor's cap and leave life behind
As I'm riding the Good Ship Sam
We'd sail for seemed like ours on end
Just me and my fellow ship mates
And we'd go anywhere, any day, anytime
Just so we'd have the thrill of the chase
We'd turn on the fog lights as the sun started setting
But still sailing just as long as we can
So if you wanna ride where no one knows time
Get yourself on the Good Ship Sam."
"That's a new one," Sean observed as the fans clapped. "Not bad though."
"You know what's different?" Trent said, clapping along with the others. "I can't hear Alex breathing."
"Yeah, good point."
A girl leaned forward from her seat.
"Hey, do you guys know the lead singer?" She asked
Sean nodded.
"He was a friend of mine in high school," he explained.
"Oh wow! Do you think you could get him to sign my CD?"
"Just ask him," Trent said, grinning. "He's usually pretty cool about stuff like that."
"Yeah, they're good guys," Sean added. "Talk to them during their break, they love their fans."
"Cool, thanks." The girl went away and Sean and Trent exchanged amused glances.
"You know what's ironic about this," Sean asked. "That back in high school I wouldn't have cared one way or the other."
"Me neither. But I was never really into their music back then." Trent admitted. "I didn't even know Mr. Peterson was interested in them until I was embraced."
"Oy, don't get me started with Peterson."
"Is he giving you a hard time again?"
"Not so much as before," Sean sighed, and stared into his drink. The band was doing another song, so they could talk freely without the humans hearing over the music. "I mean, he's accepted that I'm here to stay. He's over the idea of me being a primogen. But I think he has this carry over of frustration from when I was his student. You remember how I was in high school."
"Oh yes. You had to argue with every teacher. Some of them actually liked you for it if I recall."
"Well, Eric wasn't one of them. Back when I did the Diary of Anne Frank in class, we had differing ideas of how my character, Mr. Dussel should have been presented. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, now that I'm Gangrel, he takes the opposing argument on everything I stand for. Tonight for instance, when we had our meeting over the Tremere, I didn't believe we should kill them, but he decided they should be killed because they have an obligation to obey the law."
"Wait a minute," Trent thought for a moment. "Didn't Eric once get in trouble for Dominating a critic into writing a good review for one of his plays?"
"I think that was it, yeah."
"That's just funny."
Sean listened to the band for a while. He knew it was in poor taste to discuss council matters with other Kindred, but Trent was one of the few friends he could confide in.
"He awoke with a vision, an urge to change.
Every day began to feel like it was all the same.
The morning of September 9th, 1609
Was when King Stanley decided to fly."
"So what do you think about the Ventrue prince coming to town," Sean asked over Alex's chorus.
"It should be pretty interesting," Trent said. "I guess he had a huge part in establishing the Camarilla in San Francisco."
"I heard he owns the San Francisco Times. I wouldn't mind working as a journalist there."
"I personally can't wait to see how Bastian deals with all of this." Trent said with a wry grin. "You know how the Brujah feel about us."
"Yeah well, we're not too crazy about them either," Sean pointed out. "The entire Brujah clan can kiss my ass for that matter."
They heard a mutter of agreement from another Gangrel who sat beside them. Sean and Trent decided to hold off the rest of the conversation for a more private time.
The Rabid Monks ended the first hour with a personal favorite of Sean's. It was the first song he'd ever heard from them, and it was the reason he bought their CD.
"Just move on Cuz your time is slipping away
I hope that you're happy And I hope you feel no pain
Why do you have to linger on The situation's done
Hold tight to your memories Then would you move on
"I don't like you anymore
You're not the one that I adore
Please stop trying to settle a score
I'm going to fall down on the floor
And I hope that you finally see
The way things could be
Hold tight to your memories
Just move on and be happy
"I don't know if you meant any harm And frankly I don't care
There's a place for you to be But I can't take you there
Now as this thing ends I don't think we'll be friends
I can't take your shit anymore This is as far as my sanity bends
I don't like you anymore
You're not the one that I adore
Please stop trying to settle a score
I'm going to fall down on the floor
And I hope that you finally see
The way things could be
Hold tight to your memories
Just move on and be happy."
The crowd applauded as the chorus repeated and eventually faded.
"Thank you very much," Alex said. "You guys have been truly awesome to us. We have our newest CD out, and its going for fifteen. We'll be here till closing so feel free to come on up while we take our break."
Alex and Ryan stepped down while Jeff preceded to entertain the crowd with his usual antics. He pulled out chipmunk puppet and did a ventriloquist skit.
"I'm taking off," Sean told Trent.
"All right. See you around."
Sean gave a few last minute instructions to the Gangrel who were staying behind. Keep an eye on things, watch the Monks, but watch the human patrons as well. Call him if there was trouble. Then, he left.
Like most towns and cities in Vermont, Bennington was quiet on the snowy nights. There was very little traffic after nine o'clock, save for cruisers and third shift workers. Most of the shops were closing down for the night and the restaurants were pulling in late crowds. The smell of Irish cuisine from Carmody's was pleasant. Sean vaguely wondered if Julian Luna enjoyed Irish food, and made a note to suggest it when he ran into Mary.
Sean took a walk up and down Mainstreet. From the well lit Four Corners, all the way up past Beech St. Then he crossed the bridge on Gage St. and took a casual stroll through Mountain View trailer park. His aunt and a few of his cousins still lived here. He kept tabs on them but he was careful that they could never see him.
He moved on, down the mildly lit Southside Dr., over a smaller bridge, and across School St., towards the K-Mart plaza. He hung around at the Plaza, sitting on a snow covered bench while customers and store clerks filed out of the drive way, back onto the road to go home. He sat there for hours, just biding his time. Keeping his senses open.
There was a path through the woods in the back of K-Mart. Sean's preternatural sight allowed him to find the path he had taken so many times during his childhood. But this was the only time he could take it at night and as a wolf. He was a careful to run along the floodwall, less some innocent bystander take him out with a rifle. The gun wouldn't kill him, but it would make things complicated when police reported a wild animal which was apparently impervious to lead bullets.
Sean sniffed out his prey. There was a man sitting near the river, shivering violently and smoking weed. Sean made his approach swift and silent. He overtook the man gently and dominated him into forgetting the next few moments. After taking only a few mouthfuls of the warm blood, Sean carried the man to the veteran's home nearby. The nurses there could call an ambulance to take him to the hospital.
Sean sat on another bench in the deer park. The deer seemed wary of him, but he didn't mind. He loved them as a child and he'd never do anything to harm them as a vampire.
It was almost a quiet night. Until the sirens blared…
