I grab my backpack from the trunk as Destiny scouts the location for any possible attacks. We’re in a small war with the Marson house right now and we can’t afford to be caught slipping again. After last time, most people chose to flee. I can’t blame them, I want to run away so bad but I don’t know anything but Chicago. There’s a group of maybe ten of us meeting at an abandoned warehouse just outside the city today. We’re calling it a survivor's session, but we’re going to finish the job. We’ll probably need to hire some outside help since a lot of The Wererats fled to branches in other cities, not wanting more violence. Most of them can handle themselves in a fight, but like me, they’d rather deal with life in other ways.

I would have been against it a couple of days ago, but Destiny and I stayed up chatting over the phone about it. She talked me through it. Killing vs murder, some meditation and got my head right, or close to right as I can be at the moment. It’s an ongoing process. I settled on killing being something that’s justified. Protecting yourself or another person, I killed people, but I didn’t murder anyone. Murder is killing, but with malicious intent. She wouldn’t tell me the total, but she keeps track of how many people’s she’s killed. She did tell me her first kill was in August of 2005, so she hasn’t exactly been a cold killer her entire life like I painted her.

This is actually the first time we’ve been together since the night she broke in. We’ve been taking it slow, trying to get to know each other for real. She’s been a lot more open with me, something I wanted the whole time. It’s been nice, but I’m still nervous about the idea that it’ll last. She convinced me to help with all of this again, promised I wouldn’t have to fight anymore. I agreed, because she helped me with the whole PTSD thing.

Vicky rushes up and hugs me tightly as we walk into the warehouse. I’ve been talking with her too. She doesn’t want to leave the city because this is where her parents immigrated to, and they’ve built a nice life. I can see the anger in Destiny’s eyes, even if there’s nothing romantic going on with us. I break the hug, since Destiny has been honest about being hurt in the past.

“Hello Destiny,” Vicky greets her in a fake happiness.

“Hey Vicky,” Destiny attempts to keep it cordial.

“Stop the pussy pinching and find some seats,” Lynn walks past with none of her usual joy.

It seems like just the battle-hardened rats stuck around. The ones who steal through force or hope there’s a fight along the way. I’m told the group started as violent bandits way back in the day. They were cursed and turned to rats by a witch they had stolen from. I don’t know how true that is, but it sounds as plausible as anything else I’ve heard lately. Also makes sense that some of them still look like they could be bandits. That’s a personal choice, I’m just glad about fifteen of them stuck around.

“We got our asses handed to us. They caught us off guard, and fucked us hard. We took some of them with us, but we got a job to do still. We said we’d steal this damn cup, and we’re going to do it for sure now. Any questions,” Lynn starts her speech.

“When do we get revenge,” one of the bandit rats asks, garnering cheers from the others.

“We’re gonna hire some mercs, and hit them hard,” another bandit.

“You’ll get your revenge, but that ain’t the plan,” Lynn puts a stop to it.

“Then what’s the plan,” someone calls out to her.

“I don’t know. That’s why we’re here.”

Whispers echo through the warehouse as discussions start in the sparse crowd. Most of it is about how they got screwed taking a job from Destiny, I got Mercer killed and Lynn has lost her touch. I won’t lie, it hurts; mostly because they’re right.

“I’ve got a plan,” Destiny speaks up, her hearing is way better than mine, she’s not bothered by the comments.

“Speak on it girl,” Lynn gives her the floor.

“We launch a three-pronged attack that needs to happen all at once. Team 1 will hit them digitally,” that’s probably me and Vicky. “Take any funds they can, cripple the alarm systems across the city for their warehouses. They don’t keep good stuff in the house. That’s where Team 2 comes in. Hit all of their businesses at once. They can’t send people to all of them. Invite any thief you know, their pay is what they take, and of course we take the bulk. Lastly Team 3, make the Chicago chapter of the Marson house extinct. We run the plan in broad daylight, hit their homes, blow the roofs off, light bombs. We’ll need to hire some folks for this, but it’ll keep us safe. If we wipe the vamps, we don’t have to worry about the thralls,” Destiny awaits an answer.

“I like it. Scratches the revenge itch for those who want it, makes us rich, shows we’ve still got plenty of power left in this city,” Vicky is the first to respond. The two share a hateful but respectful nod.

“I know most of you don’t like me, but this gets my vote,” I add when nobody else speaks up.

“Fuck it. Robbing, stealing, killing, it’ll be like the old Teamsters days,” Lynn has led an interesting life.

“Robbin’ stealin’ killin’,” some of the rats started chanting.

I would join in but, that isn’t my kind of thing. I’m drafting myself to the tech squad, don’t want kill anyone else and I don’t really want to steal anything. Destiny will probably run the murder team, get her revenge. Lynn will probably be with the team of thieves. I’m just hoping we can come up with a plan for the big hairy one.

Lynn breaks the chants with a commanding growl, do rats growl? “Alright, enough with the damn chanting. Let’s get to work. We’re doing it sober. Let’s show these crusty ass vampires that The Wererats ain’t nothing to fuck with!”