Read Online Joe Pitt 1 - Already Dead by Charlie Huston - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Charlie Huston
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pretend they're pulling all my strings, and I like to pretend they're not. Who's to say
who has the right idea?
I do favors for the Coalition because they have the juice to get rid of me if they decide
they really want to. I do favors for the Society because this is their territory and
they'll run me to the Outer Boroughs if I don't. Me, I get to stay Rogue, and that's the
way I like it. It's my life, I can live it any way I want. And if I ever get tired of it,
all I have to do is open
the
door and walk outside on a nice sunny day.
When I look in the mirror I see a face about twenty-eight. Under it I know I'm forty-five.
I could stay younger. All I have to do is drink more blood. A guy like Predo, who knows
how much he sucks down? But then again he has the resources of the Coalition. Sometimes
the Coalition pays me off with a few pints, but mostly I scrounge my own blood, and the
less I consume the less attention I draw to myself. It is our greatest vulnerability, our
thirst. It identifies us and leads hunters to us. It forces us to live in highly populated
areas where our foraging and aversion to the sun will draw less attention. Some run to the
country and live like hermits, feeding off the occasional stray backpacker. Some move to
rural communities, feeding sparingly, becoming emaciated and hiding their true nature
behind a facade of eccentricity. The suburbs are hopeless, the population neither thin not
dense enough to provide cover. Vampyres in the suburbs last less than a year.
Plus those places are soulless pits. Christ! Strip malls, housing tracts, business parks?
Might as well pound a stake through your own heart and save some Van Helsing the work.
Talk about a land of the undead.
Anyway, Joe Pitt isn't my real name. I threw away my real name. A guy like me doesn't need
a real name.
In the morning I think about having a pint to help with my ribs, but I've gorged the last
couple days and I don't want to overdo it. The ribs will take care of themselves. So I
just hang out and watch some movies.
I mostly watch horror movies. I don't really like the things very much, but they're good
research. Left to my own devices I'd probably take a look at
Treasure of the Sierra Madre
or maybe
Miller's Crossing.
Instead I watch about half of
The Abominable Doctor Phibes,
until I see it's pretty useless, then I pop in
Martin.
I've seen it a few times, but it's about as accurate as vampire flicks get. I watch some
of the best scenes again. Horror movies are how most folks get their ideas about real
Vampyres and the whole
supernatural
world, so I like to keep up on them. I'll see most of the new ones when they come out,
even the slasher stuff, and in the meantime I pick up the older ones on DVD.
Couple years back I had some kid Van Helsing come at me with a cross and holy water. A
Rogue in jersey had wasted his sister and the kid had seen it all from the bedroom closet.
Now he was on a campaign to
slay the undead.
I don't know how he got onto me, I think he was just hanging around the East Village
because there are so many vampire-looking freaks down here. Somehow he locked in on me. In
any case he stalked me for a few days and decided I was
an evil hell spawn.
One night outside Doc Holiday's, he comes charging across the street with this crucifix
and a spray bottle full of holy water. I let him chase me down the block a little to get
away from the crowds on A, then I took the cross from him and asked him to stop spraying
me with water. He freaked, called me
Satan's pawn
and stuff like that. I acted dumb, drank the holy water and kissed the cross and settled
him down. He was pretty embarrassed, ended up crying on my shoulder. I gave him a pat on
the butt, told him to see a
who has the right idea?
I do favors for the Coalition because they have the juice to get rid of me if they decide
they really want to. I do favors for the Society because this is their territory and
they'll run me to the Outer Boroughs if I don't. Me, I get to stay Rogue, and that's the
way I like it. It's my life, I can live it any way I want. And if I ever get tired of it,
all I have to do is open
the
door and walk outside on a nice sunny day.
When I look in the mirror I see a face about twenty-eight. Under it I know I'm forty-five.
I could stay younger. All I have to do is drink more blood. A guy like Predo, who knows
how much he sucks down? But then again he has the resources of the Coalition. Sometimes
the Coalition pays me off with a few pints, but mostly I scrounge my own blood, and the
less I consume the less attention I draw to myself. It is our greatest vulnerability, our
thirst. It identifies us and leads hunters to us. It forces us to live in highly populated
areas where our foraging and aversion to the sun will draw less attention. Some run to the
country and live like hermits, feeding off the occasional stray backpacker. Some move to
rural communities, feeding sparingly, becoming emaciated and hiding their true nature
behind a facade of eccentricity. The suburbs are hopeless, the population neither thin not
dense enough to provide cover. Vampyres in the suburbs last less than a year.
Plus those places are soulless pits. Christ! Strip malls, housing tracts, business parks?
Might as well pound a stake through your own heart and save some Van Helsing the work.
Talk about a land of the undead.
Anyway, Joe Pitt isn't my real name. I threw away my real name. A guy like me doesn't need
a real name.
In the morning I think about having a pint to help with my ribs, but I've gorged the last
couple days and I don't want to overdo it. The ribs will take care of themselves. So I
just hang out and watch some movies.
I mostly watch horror movies. I don't really like the things very much, but they're good
research. Left to my own devices I'd probably take a look at
Treasure of the Sierra Madre
or maybe
Miller's Crossing.
Instead I watch about half of
The Abominable Doctor Phibes,
until I see it's pretty useless, then I pop in
Martin.
I've seen it a few times, but it's about as accurate as vampire flicks get. I watch some
of the best scenes again. Horror movies are how most folks get their ideas about real
Vampyres and the whole
supernatural
world, so I like to keep up on them. I'll see most of the new ones when they come out,
even the slasher stuff, and in the meantime I pick up the older ones on DVD.
Couple years back I had some kid Van Helsing come at me with a cross and holy water. A
Rogue in jersey had wasted his sister and the kid had seen it all from the bedroom closet.
Now he was on a campaign to
slay the undead.
I don't know how he got onto me, I think he was just hanging around the East Village
because there are so many vampire-looking freaks down here. Somehow he locked in on me. In
any case he stalked me for a few days and decided I was
an evil hell spawn.
One night outside Doc Holiday's, he comes charging across the street with this crucifix
and a spray bottle full of holy water. I let him chase me down the block a little to get
away from the crowds on A, then I took the cross from him and asked him to stop spraying
me with water. He freaked, called me
Satan's pawn
and stuff like that. I acted dumb, drank the holy water and kissed the cross and settled
him down. He was pretty embarrassed, ended up crying on my shoulder. I gave him a pat on
the butt, told him to see a
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