I open my eyes and look at him. He raises a finger.

— Be useful, Pitt. Your value to the Coalition lies in your usefulness. Be useful and Ênconspicuous. Destroy the carrier.

I get up from my chair.

— I'm more than useful. I take care of my neighborhood and clean up all the trash the Clans don't want to deal with. So unless you've found another slob to handle your business below Fourteenth, stay off my back.

I head for the door.

— Indeed we shall. But for now, be assured that the cleaning of last night's mess will come with a price, Pitt.

— Yeah, just like everything.

I pull the door open.

— One more thing, Pitt.

I stop and stand in the open doorway, my back to him.

— From what I understand, the boy's veins had been tapped. He had been bled. Unusual behavior for zombies, yes?

I stand there.

— Remember what your mother told you, finish everything on your plate.

I walk out and close the door behind me.

He's right, of course. Tap some kid's veins, take a couple pints and leave him breathing? You might as well put up a sign that says VAMPYRES FEEDING HERE, COME AND KILL US. Of course most people who heard about something like that would just think it was freaky, but there are folks out there who know. And those are exactly the ones we don't want around. Which is why my apartment is so hard to get into.

At my place on 10th between First and A, I have to punch a code into the street door to get into the vestibule, then open two locks to get into the building hallway. After that my door is the first on the left. It looks normal, but it's a factory door I salvaged. I had to rebuild the frame with steel bolsters so it could carry the weight, but it was worth it. If you want to bust into my place your best bet is to go through the walls.