Chapter 6 — The Underground on Chicago Chronicles

The Assessment — Monday, 21 January 1991, 4:35 PM

Mon, 21 Jan 1991 16:35:00 +0000

Chicago, Illinois

The snow on Wabash had the quality of something that wanted to be forgotten. Thin, grey, laid down on pavement already black with salt and melt, tracked through by boots that had somewhere better to be. Monday night. The federal holiday had cleared the office towers and left the street to cabs and delivery trucks and the particular emptiness of a city that had stopped working but hadn’t yet started drinking. Sable parked two blocks north of the Club and walked, because the walk was the preparation, and because at thirty-three degrees the cold put color in her cheeks that would fade once the vitae settled. She timed it. Walked in while she still looked alive.

The Old Neighborhood — Sunday, 20 January 1991, 4:35 PM

Sun, 20 Jan 1991 16:35:00 +0000

Robert Taylor Homes / CHA Utility Tunnels / Nosferatu Freight Tunnels / South Side

Chicago, Illinois

The Dan Ryan south of Chinatown, rain hardening to sleet against the windshield. No moon — or a moon behind cloud so thick it might as well have been no moon. The city fell away north. Steel mills lit the horizon behind her like a distant war, the way they’d always lit it, the way they’d lit it when she was seven years old riding the bus south from downtown and her mother pointed and said, that’s Gary, and Gary is where things get made, and that’s why it’s ugly. Denise knew things about beauty and ugliness that Sable was still working out.

An Unexpected Meeting — Friday, 18 January 1991, 4:35 PM

Fri, 18 Jan 1991 16:35:00 +0000

Palmer House / Sherwin-Williams Building / The Cave / North Side / Succubus Club / South Pilsen

Chicago, Illinois

The Palmer House smelled like brass polish and old money and the quiet desperation of men who’d come to Chicago to sell buildings nobody wanted to buy.

Darius found him at the bar. Third stool from the end. The convention lanyard was still around his neck — MIDWEST REAL ESTATE INVESTMENT FORUM — but the badge was turned backward, as though the man had already given up on being recognized. Craig Hessler. Mid-forties. The kind of suit that fit better when the market did.

The Railroad Eccentric — Thursday, 17 January 1991, 4:35 PM

Thu, 17 Jan 1991 16:35:01 +0000

Clark/Division / Pedway / Succubus Club / Tremere Chantry

Chicago, Illinois

The bookkeeper from Ravenswood had been alone at a bar called Sterch’s with three bourbons past his credit limit and a wedding ring he kept turning with his thumb. Tomas took him in the alley behind the kitchen. Two points. Clean puncture, licked and sealed, the man back on his stool before the ice in his fourth drink settled. The blood sat in Tomas like ballast — warm weight distributed evenly through the chassis, hunger pushed to a distance where it became data instead of imperative.