"Always Later Than You Think"
May. 25th, 2022 01:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Always Later Than You Think"
6/22-6/25/1995
I.
He hadn't heard from Ted in quite a while, Bane realized. It was just before noon on a warm late June day and he decided the two of them needed to catch up on everything. Ted Wright had been a founding member of the Kenneth Dred Foundation; he was one of the very few human beings that Bane trusted without reservation and it suddenly bothered him that there had been no contact between them for weeks. With Wright's free clinic literally in the building next door, how could this happen?
Heading down to the tiny underground garage beneath the KDF building, the Dire Wolf hopped in his dark green Mustang and started it up. As always, the trunk was loaded with weaponry and gear, including a knapsack with everything he would need for an extended case. He headed up the steep concrete ramp as the steel barrier at its top slid up to let him out in the dead end alley. Bane turned right on Lexington, was back on East 38th Street and he double parked in front of the stolid stone building next to the KDF headquarters.
At just under forty, the Dire Wolf was at his physical peak. He was all bone and wire-hard muscle with nearly zero body fat. In his usual outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sportjacket, with the pale grey eyes sharp and alert in a narrow face, Bane was ominous without trying to be. Next to the front door was a vertical row of bronze plaques listing a dentist, a grief counseling service and a travel agency. The plaque on the bottom read THADDEUS J WRIGHT, MD - CONSULTATIONS. Bane stepped into the spotless lobby with its marble staircase and brand new elevator, and turned to his left. On the frosted glass panel of that door was the same information about Wright.
Bane opened the door and entered a waiting room not much different from thousands of others. Assorted chairs scattered about, a clock and a calendar on one wall, a rack of magazines and newspapers. There was a poster explaining what to do if someone was choking. In front of him was a solid desk behind which sat a heavyset Hispanic woman with a full head of curly hair. She had the warmest and most comforting eyes he had ever seen, and Bane sometimes realized what a reassuring influence she must be on the anxiety-struck patients who waited in that room.
Right now, there was no one else in there. Bane pointed to the plain wooden door to the receptionist's left. "Hi, Maria, I'm here to see Ted."
She did not answer right away but studied him thoughtfully. Then she sighed. "Dr Wright is in there. There's all I'm saying. Good thing you're here, Mr Bane."
Suddenly alarmed, the Dire Wolf moved past her silently and opened the office door without knocking. The room was a disaster. Textbooks, binders and loose stacks of papers were piled everywhere, with no organization. Behind his desk, Ted Wright was lying forward with his face resting on a bent forearm. On the edge of his desk was a half-eaten egg salad sandwich in its clear wrapper and a paper cup of coffee that had gone dry. The tightly curled hair was more grey than black at this point.
"Ted? What the hell?" asked Bane. He lunged forward and pressed two fingers to his friend's throat, placing his other hand on the man's back. The pulse was strong, breathing was deep and slow. That close, he sniffed and could tell Wright had not showered for at least three days. That was so unlike the Blue Guide. He was normally as clean in his person as a cat.
Wright stirred, moaned and sat up. He opened bleary dark eyes and blinked with some disorientation. "What? Is my one o'clock here...?"
Pulling him upright, Bane barked, "Come on, Ted, sit up. Come on now. It's me."
"Oh, hi, Jeremy. I must have dozed off." Wright was very dark-skinned, with heavy somber features and a full beard that was now peppered with grey at he entered his fifties. He rubbed his face with the back of one hand. "I, uh, I did an overnight at the ER last night. They called me in."
Bane's voice had a slight angry edge to it. "I know you gave up your apartment in the Village months ago. You only keep a couple of rooms on this floor with a bed and a bathroom. Ted, you're here at your clinic five days a week and usually Saturdays as well, mostly ten or eleven hours a day, and then you help out at the hospital at least two nights a week, more often three."
The Blue Guide gave a prodigious yawn and scratched his head. He was wearing a dark brown suit with a tan shirt and black tie, a white smock over it. His clothes were wrinkled and there was a coffee stain on his cuff. "Whew. Yeah, well, I have a responsibility, captain. My Blue Guide art lets me diagnose conditions before any lab test or blood work could...."
Jeremy Bane came around to stand in front of the desk. "Ted. Look at me. Am I your Tel Shai captain?"
That woke Wright to full awareness. "Yes, yes of course."
"Are you sworn to obey any lawful order I gave you, on penalty of losing your acceptance at Tel Shai?"
"Yes I am. Jeremy, what are you...?"
"Stand up, Ted. You're coming with me." Not giving the Blue Guide time to ask questions, Bane marched him out into the waiting room. "Maria!" he said. "Cancel all appointments for today and tomorrow. Call the ER and tell them Dr Wright will not be available until Monday at the earliest."
Seeing the confusion on her face, Wright told her, "It's okay, Maria. Do as he says. I owe this man my life several times over."
Heading for the door, pulling Wright by one arm, Bane called back, "We'll phone you Monday depending on how things go. Don't worry."
On on 38th Street, Bane manhandled Wright into the passenger seat. His car had not gotten a ticket yet. As they eased out into traffic, the Blue Guide exhaled sharply and asked, "Maybe an explanation?"
Bane was heading west, toward the Lincoln Tunnel. "Ted. I want you to take a nap for the next hour or so. I know you can do it with Tel Shai breathing techniques. Please, Ted."
"But.. Oh, very well. I'm too tired to argue." Leaning his seat back a little, Wright began the breathing cycle they had both been taught so long ago. In a few seconds, he had slipped off into a deep tranquil sleep. Bane drove on.
II.
Two and a half hours later, they had rented a cabin overlooking Coogan's Lake at the foot of the Catskill Mountains. Bane had been here once before, chasing the maniac Seneca. Wright took a steaming hot shower and came out to find that the Dire Wolf had stopped somewhere along the way to pick him up fresh clothes. Tugging on a rust-colored polo shirt and dark slacks, Wright was incredibly grateful for the new socks and underwear. He had been neglecting his hygiene for a few days.
"There's the Ted Wright I know," Bane said, getting up off the couch. The cabin was decorated all in dark wood, from the rafter to the counters and cabinets. Even the furniture was hand-carved with thin hard cushions to sit on. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been resurrected," the Blue Guide answered. He was eight years older than his friend, and it showed mostly in the deep vertical creases down his cheeks and the sadness in his eyes. "Thanks, Jeremy."
"Ah, it's a break for me, too. We're right outside of Clarion, it's a good-sized town. I know they have a steak house or two..."
Wright grinned and pointed at the door. "Nothing would suit me better, captain. My mouth is watering now."
They found a restaurant by the side of the road called BIG ROUND-UP, which had a Wild West theme. The waitresses wore cowgirl outfits with buckskin vests over white shirts, fringed skirts and Stetsons. Presented with enormous juicy steaks covered with onions, home fries and broccoli, they both dug in with intense enthusiasm. Bane as always drank ice water, but Wright indulged in a rare glass of beer. As the plates were being taken away, the Dire Wolf suggested hot apple pie and they enjoyed that as well.
Finally, waiting for the check, Wright wiped his mouth with a napkin and sighed. "Oh, I feel alive for the first time in years. Getting by on sandwiches and whatever the cafeteria had left over is no way to live. What's our agenda, captain?"
"We're playing hookey," Bane answered. "It's Friday night. Sunday, we'll head back down to the city but for now we're off duty. You want to look around town?"
"Yeah, sure. Maybe find some live music somewhere, I'm okay with Country." He pushed back his chair and reached for his wallet, but Bane raised a hand to stop him.
"I'm putting this on the expense account," he said. "This is listed as rehabilitation." He glanced up and suddenly those pale eyes had a cold glint in them. Wright turned around and saw a slightly overweight man with short reddish hair and a thick mustache approaching their table.
"Excuse me," the man said with a nervous smile. "Mr Bane? It IS Jeremy Bane, isn't it?"
"Yes," the Dire Wolf answered without any warmth. "Hello, Officer Beaumont."
"Oh, it's Sergeant Beaumont now," the man said. "My, it must be ten years since you helped us out against Seneca. There's not a man in the State Police who hasn't heard your story. I'm glad to see you here in the area again."
Wright smiled slightly and interrupted, "Nice to meet you, sergeant."
"How do you do? Ah, Mr Bane, I spotted you here and I was wondering if you might be interested in something we have going on right now. There's these two gangs shooting it out down in Newburgh. Three deaths last week and a suspicious fire..."
Bane raised a reproving hand. "Sergeant Beaumont. We are not available for that right now. I am sure the New York State Police can handle punks like that."
"Well, we're in on it because they seem to be using the Thruway rest stops for meetings. The usual coke and heroin deals. But if you're not available..?"
"Sorry," Bane said with a certain finality. "But we wish you good luck."
Very reluctantly, as if hoping the Dire Wolf would call him back, the trooper nodded and headed slowly for the door. Ted Wright watched him leave, then said, "Between us, we could probably clean up those gangs quick enough."
Bane made no attempt to hide his annoyance. "This was something the Teachers warned us about when we first applied to be students. Tel Shai knights can burn themselves out by trying to stay on duty day and night. We're Human, we need rest both physical and mental. Our Teachers know what they're talking about."
The Blue Guide nodded and pushed his chair back. "You're right. Or they're right. I was certainly wearing myself down."
"Having a breakdown or catching pneumonia because your resistance has been destroyed is not the answer," Bane agreed. He stood up as well. "You know what I bet you haven't played in twenty years? Pool!"
The dark face grinned, showing white teeth in the split of the thick beard. Wright looked years younger when he smiled. "Oh my. You are so right."
They found a bar and grill downtown that was quiet enough, with six or seven regulars drinking while watching sports on a big-screen TV. Bane and Wright both ordered beers and got refills. Although they didn't mention it, neither of them was affected by alcohol at this point. Decades on a tagra tea diet had adapted their bodies to just eliminate any toxins they ate or drank.
Finding the pool table unclaimed, the two KDF members enjoyed an hour of play. It was a sport where they could meet on equal terms. Bane's enhanced speed was no advantage behind a cue, and Wright's gralic perception only worked on living beings. The balls and the table treated them the same way they would treat anyone else. The beer was just to help them fit in.
At almost eleven, Wright made a scoffing noise and racked the balls one last time. "You realize we're not very good at this, right?"
"Oh, sure," Bane answered. "Can't be world's greatest at everything. I can't play chess either. Karl Eldritch made a chess reference once and seemed offended I didn't know what he meant. You ready to pack it in?"
"I think so." The Blue Guide clapped his friend on the shoulder and started to head for the exit. "To be honest, I'm still a little tired. Maybe I'm just getting old."
"This is where we both catch up on all the sleep we've missed over the years," Bane answered.
III.
With his hyperactive metabolism, the Dire Wolf only managed six hours asleep before snapping fully awake. Wright's gentle snoring from the other bed was reassuring. As stealthily as all his training could enable, Bane slipped out of bed and grabbed his slacks and the Link as he snuck outside. The sun was coming up behind the motel. He went down the walkway out of earshot and started checking his messages. Over the years, he had gathered an army of observers who kept an eye out for weird or supernatural events. Most of them were grateful because Bane had rescued them in the past and were more than happy to help out.
Everything seemed quiet. The Midnight War seemed to be in one of its occasional lulls. There was a message from Cindy, saying she would be back from her family on Monday, and Bleak had called just to say he had nothing to say. Bane smiled to himself and went back inside.
Going back in the room, he silently got dressed and then spent the most torturous hour he had endured for a while. Bane's constant restless energy made it difficult for him to sit still even when he was doing something. To simply wait silently in a quiet room took a huge effort of will. Finally, he was gratified when Ted Wright stirred. The Blue Guide smacked his lips, sat up and said, "Hey. Be right back," as he headed for the bathroom.
A few minutes later, drying his hands on a washcloth, Wright said, "What is it, seven o'clock? I should call my office."
"No. You should not. This is a vacation. I will tell you what. Three miles down the road is a diner we passed last night. Let's check it out."
The Blue Guide nodded, "Sounds good." He put on the same clothes he had been wearing the day before, with his soiled business suit hanging in the closet. "You ever bring different outfits for yourself, Jeremy? Something instead of those damn turtlenecks?"
"Not usually," Bane admitted. "I'm in a rut, that's certain. But we will be picking up some summer wear today."
Twenty minutes later, they were in a booth at the AGATHON DINER, watching as hot plates of food were brought over. Wright had an omelete with mushrooms, side order of wheat toast and home fries. Bane had ordered a double serving of French toast, with hash browns and bacon. They ate slowly, getting enjoyment out of the experience.
"Hey, Jeremy, you remember that time we were in Sardinia and tried the goat cheese? I hated it. But then, I thought the lamb was great."
The Dire Wolf took a second to finish a mouthful. "Oh, if you want to talk about strange food, what about our week in Chujir? I swear, anything they could pin down went on the plate. I had no idea what I was eating. Made genuine Chinese cuisine look timid."
Pushing his empty plate away, sipping some juice, Wright chuckled. "Now, for good food, I'd take Androval. Their roast beef was so tender you cut it with a fork and I loved how they grilled fish. Jeez, Jeremy, I haven't been in any of the adjacent realms in years."
"I want that to change," Bane told him seriously. "As captain, I am going to assign you to check out what's going on in an adjacent realm every week or so. Just a day in Androval or Myrrwha to meet with the leaders and see what's going on."
"I'm okay with that. Look at that sunlight outside. What were you saying about getting summer clothes?"
The Dire Wolf left money on the table next to the little tray with the bill. "Yeah, sounds like a plan." They left the diner, drove into Clarion and parked on the main street. Finding a men's clothing store a few blocks along, they each bought swim trunks, sandals, bright Hawaiian shirts and more socks and underwear. Wright picked a pair of BluBlocker sunglasses and Bane agreed it was a good idea, getting a pair for himself. At the last moment, Wright snatched a tan hat with a wide floppy hat for himself.
On the way back to the Mustang, Wright spotted a used book store. They doubled back after dropping off their packages and poked around. Finally, the Blue Guide decided on a paperback of Steinbeck's THE RED PONY. "Never got around to Steinbeck," he whispered. "Here's my chance." Bane fussed and eventually bought a large magazine of crossword puzzles and Circle-a-Words. "This might keep me busy," he muttered.
Returning to the motel, they changed into the shorts and loud shirts and sandals. Bane simply could not bear to go unarmed out in public. He wrapped the matched silver daggers, his Smith & Wesson 38 and his Link in a motel towel and took the bundle with them. They marched down the slope behind the building to a wide flat area bordering Coogan's Lake. There was no beach as such, but the property owners had built a stretch of wooden planks to sit or lie upon right next to the water.
Within an hour, Wright was getting deeply into THE RED PONY and was lost to the world. He was leaning back against a small birch tree. Bane did puzzles as long as he could stand it but eventually he threw the magazine down and jumped to his feet. "Guess I'll see how the water is, Ted," he explained as he walked a short distance away.
The Blue Guide grunted in a neutral tone. Bane dove cleanly into the water, hardly making a splash, and began stroking strongly out toward the center of the lake. After that, he was practicing different strokes, working on breath control and mostly just burning off excess energy. Finding a tree on one bank that bent down over the water, he climbed out and practiced swinging from one branch as far out as he could manage and diving in.
The day moved along. Knowing Bane was happier in motion, Wright glanced up at him from time to time but left him alone. He had forgotten how much he had used to love to read. There was never time. The last book he had finished had been something by Michener. CENTENNIAL? Anyway, it had been years earlier. Around three in the afternoon, the Dire Wolf leaped up out of the water and landed on the walkway.
Stripped down, Bane was a dramatic sight. He did not look like a bodybuilder but like a runner, and the long hard muscles stood out with remarkable definition. Drying in the sun, brushing his short hair with his fingers, he went over and dropped down to sit facing his friend. "How're you doing, Ted?"
"Great," the Blue Guide answered. He lowered the book beside him. "I just finished a chapter, so if you want to get going, I'd be okay with that."
Bane was watching newcomers with the innate suspicion that never quite left him. Two teenage boys and a girl, all in bathing suits, carrying a cooler. They passed nearby and the oldest boy, who had the sides of his head shaved and a tattoo on one arm of some rock band symbol, paused.
"Hope we won't be bothering you guys," he grinned.
"No, you're fine," Wright said easily. He tilted the floppy hat further back on his head. His Blue Guide powers involved sensing and adjusting the lifeforce in other people. He could enhance their vitality to speed healing or he could dampen that vitality to make them weak and helpless... this had been how he had fought in KDF battles without using violence. Gunmen and creatures of the night suddenly became listless and feeble under Wright's effects. Checking out the three young people passing by, the Blue Guide smiled happily at how healthy and disease-free they were. They were at an age of smoothly functioning organs with no aches or pains or chronic conditions. So good to be young, he thought wistfully.
"Excuse me," the girl interrupted. She was maybe seventeen, with the untamed enthusiasm of that age. Her long black hair was in a ponytail that swung as she moved. "I was wondering if you two maybe...SAW something?"
The Dire Wolf turned his grey eyes on her and she flinched a bit at their impact. "Like what?"
"Oh. Um, well.. there's stories around here about Frog Man. Jeff's father saw him when he was a boy, and every summer at least one or two people get a glimpse. He always shows up in late June or early July." She began to smile as she checked Bane out in those shorts. "Frog Man, you know?"
"I didn't see anything unusual out there," Bane admitted. "I've been swimming the past few hours."
"Frog Man is supposed to show up just before something bad happens," the boy with the tattoo put in. "He's spotted and there's a fatal car crash or a family loses their house in a fire. That sort of thing."
"Sorry," the Dire Wolf said. "I was out in the middle. Just the usual fish and a few birds and bugs."
The girl presented him a smile with a flash of perfect teeth. "It's not like anyone WANTS to see him. He's an omen. He looks like a six foot frog standing up on two legs. They saw if he points at you, you're the one that disaster hits."
"Really." Bane bent and picked up the bundle his towel made, dryly amused that these kids were unaware it contained a loaded revolver and two silver-bladed throwing knives. "In that case, I hope you guys don't run into him. Have fun."
Seeing that his captain was ready to leave, Ted Wright got up from where he had been leaning back against the tree, book in hand. He gave the three teens a friendly wave as he started back up the slope toward the motel.
Returning to their room, they started getting dressed again. Bane tugged on the silk-thin flexible Trom armor that covered him from neck to wrists and ankles, then put on black slacks and a fresh turtleneck. He strapped on the sheaths holding the daggers to his forearms with visible relief.
For his part, Wright exchanged the swim trunks for lightweight slacks and a plain white T-shirt. He put the garish Hawaiian shirt back on again because he seemed to have taken a liking to it. "I'm a little surprised you aren't more interested in Frog Man out there."
"Maybe I'll look into it some other time," Bane said. He got a bottle of water from the waist high refrigerator and took a long swig. "I'm a bit annoyed that the Midnight War has tried to intrude twice in less than twenty-four hours. A day or two without chasing monsters or shooting it out with killers shouldn't be too much to ask for."
Standing by the TV that was on top of the dresser, the Blue Guide started going through channels without much enthusiasm. "Ah, Jeremy. There is always going to be an emergency on hand. Something is always desperate and urgent. It's always 'later than you think.'"
"You got that right," said the Dire Wolf, pulling aside the curtains to peer outside. "Damn, I can't help being restless. You want to go into town and walk around, Ted?"
"Sure. Some window shopping, maybe pick up some more clothes to take home. I realize now I don't have much of a wardrobe anymore. Been wearing the same three suits over and over, just about living in them." He watched as Bane clipped on the holster holding his revolver to his belt, then shrugged on the jacket which hid it. "You expect to be using that, captain?"
"Better to have it and not need it.."
"Than need it and not have it," Wright finished for him. "I know. Sad but true."
IV.
They had enjoyed a long unhurried meal at an Italian restaurant called HUNGRY BAMBINO, lingering as they chatted about old friends and enemies from their earlier years.
"Remember when we went to Ulgor and negotiated a truce with the Melgarin?" Wright asked. "Those people had literally never seen a black man before. I don't think they even know what one was. They were dying to touch my skin. Cindy was laughing so hard at their expressions that her ribs hurt."
"It was funny," Bane said. "I don't exactly MISS Atron Ke. He was a huge pain in the ass, but when he was on our side, he was a big help. The problem was, you never knew which side he would take."
Putting his napkin down, Ted Wright sighed. "I've eaten better since we left Manhattan than I have in years. That was really good. Sharp flavor and lots of bulk to fill your stomach, how can you not like lasagna?"
"Getting dark out," the Dire Wolf observed. "Come on, let's walk this off a bit." They left the restaurant and started strolling along Clarion's main street. Halfway up one block was a movie theatre with its marquee proclaiming two features, a romantic comedy I AM TRYING TO BREAK YOUR HEART and a thriller DOWN BY THE CREEK. They stood for a moment studying the posters displayed.
"I always love a good mystery," Wright said. "DOWN BY THE CREEK looks interesting, kind of long though. The director did another movie I thought was great, it had a twist at the end that snuck up on me. Look. Next showing is in ten minutes."
Bane seemed distracted. He had been gazing down the street and now he swung back to full attention. "Yeah. Uh, well, Ted, to be honest, I can't sit still for two hours in a theater. How about you go see this movie and I circle the town and come back here to meet you when it gets out?"
"All right," Wright answered a bit dubiously. He gave Bane a quizzical look. "It's better than having you fidget and squirm in your seat. You all right, captain?"
"Me? Sure." The Dire Wolf tugged down his jacket and obviously was itching to get going. "That's the price for my extra speed. I'm always hyper. All right, you know what, I'll meet you back here in two hours. Have fun."
"Sure." Wright watched the Dire Wolf take off at a brisk pace down the street, veering right at the next corner. He resembled a cat eagerly chasing a mouse. The Blue Guide shook his head, took a deep breath and went back to checking out the cast listed for DOWN BY THE CREEK.
Already four blocks away, Bane paused on a corner and faded into the doorway of a shoe store that had been closed up for some time. There he was. Jonathan Todd, the Host. The thick white hair and pale skin were just as he remembered them. Todd wore a long dark coat that reached his ankles, with the collar turned up as if it were about to rain. The Host was standing across the side street from a barber shop with an old-fashioned red-and-white striped pole fastened by the front door.
Warily, Bane crept a little closer and concealed himself again on the wall of a building away from Todd. It had been a few years since the Host had terrorized the Deep South. His killing spree through Alabama and Georgia had racked up two dozen dead bodies before he had disappeared without explanation.
Watching the stiff, expressionless face that was glaring at the barber shop, Bane remembered that only he had realized what the South had been dealing with. The police and FBI had figured Todd to be just a lunatic with a lot of luck, but Bane had known better. The reports of the Host ignoring multiple gunshot wounds, strangling men twice as big as he was, hiding at the bottom of a swimming pool for an hour to ambush a gang lord... Jonathan Todd was unnatural. Bane had decided he was that rarity, a functional zombie who had retained full intelligence and motivation.
Where the Host had been since then was a question that could wait. The Dire Wolf adjusted the daggers under his sleeves to make sure they were ready and he loosened the Smith & Wesson in his holster. Todd was doing nothing more than studying the barber shop, standing motionless as no living being could, arms down limp at his sides. Bane's Kumundu training made him sensitive to tiny motions in anyone he observed, and he could tell the Host was not only not breathing, there was none of the tiny swaying and compensation a living person made when standing.
Watching tensely, the Dire Wolf wondered for a second what the odds were that Todd should be here in this upstate town on the same weekend that he himself was here. It was incredible. Cindy had often told Bane that he was a "weirdness magnet" and that massively unlikely events would happen wherever he happened to be. Bane wasn't sure of that. More likely, it was as Ted had said earlier, that there was always an emergency or threat nearby. It was "always later than you think," in Ted's words.
Barber shops were often used as covers for criminal activities. Drug deals and clandestine meetings could be done in the back room and no one noticed how many men strolled in and out, nor how long they remained in the shop. As Bane watched, Jonathan Todd stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the narrow side street toward the open door of the barber shop. Wherever the Host went, there was always a massacre.
The Dire Wolf took two steps forward to intervene, his left hand drawing the silver dagger from his right sleeve. This was not going to be easy, his best chance would be to pounce suddenly on Todd and slice him up before the Undead could get those cold hands on him...
Then, the Host froze in place, shuddered and fell apart. He collapsed straight down into a pile of loose bones and dried shards of flesh. It happened in an instant. Down the block, the Dire Wolf stood where he was and slowly replaced his dagger to its sheath. That was unexpected. For a long minute, he watched the small heap of decay and debris in front of the barber shop. An old man in a white smock peered out and yelled something as he saw the gruesome pile.
Bane drew back into a doorway and relaxed slightly. Apparently, whatever curse had been reanimating Todd had run out. Now, the terror that had been known as the Host was just the remains of a corpse that had died more than a decade earlier. Well, that was lucky, the Dire Wolf thought as he watched two men come out of the barber shop to reluctantly examine the grisly heap on the sidewalk.
Further back on that block, Ted Wright smiled and ducked around the edge of a building back onto the main street. He was sure Bane had not detected his presence. The Blue Guide knew his captain well and had realized there was something menacing in the area by the way Bane had been eager to get on its trail. Seeing the Host, Wright had used his ability to siphon away the gralic force animating the Undead, making it a true corpse again. Now, satisfied, the Blue Guide started walking quickly back toward the movie theatre. If he could still buy a ticket, he wouldn't mind having missed twenty minutes of the movie. It would be worth it to see how Bane told this story when they joined each other later. For the first time in too long, Ted Wright shook with silent laughter.
4/9/2016
6/22-6/25/1995
I.
He hadn't heard from Ted in quite a while, Bane realized. It was just before noon on a warm late June day and he decided the two of them needed to catch up on everything. Ted Wright had been a founding member of the Kenneth Dred Foundation; he was one of the very few human beings that Bane trusted without reservation and it suddenly bothered him that there had been no contact between them for weeks. With Wright's free clinic literally in the building next door, how could this happen?
Heading down to the tiny underground garage beneath the KDF building, the Dire Wolf hopped in his dark green Mustang and started it up. As always, the trunk was loaded with weaponry and gear, including a knapsack with everything he would need for an extended case. He headed up the steep concrete ramp as the steel barrier at its top slid up to let him out in the dead end alley. Bane turned right on Lexington, was back on East 38th Street and he double parked in front of the stolid stone building next to the KDF headquarters.
At just under forty, the Dire Wolf was at his physical peak. He was all bone and wire-hard muscle with nearly zero body fat. In his usual outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sportjacket, with the pale grey eyes sharp and alert in a narrow face, Bane was ominous without trying to be. Next to the front door was a vertical row of bronze plaques listing a dentist, a grief counseling service and a travel agency. The plaque on the bottom read THADDEUS J WRIGHT, MD - CONSULTATIONS. Bane stepped into the spotless lobby with its marble staircase and brand new elevator, and turned to his left. On the frosted glass panel of that door was the same information about Wright.
Bane opened the door and entered a waiting room not much different from thousands of others. Assorted chairs scattered about, a clock and a calendar on one wall, a rack of magazines and newspapers. There was a poster explaining what to do if someone was choking. In front of him was a solid desk behind which sat a heavyset Hispanic woman with a full head of curly hair. She had the warmest and most comforting eyes he had ever seen, and Bane sometimes realized what a reassuring influence she must be on the anxiety-struck patients who waited in that room.
Right now, there was no one else in there. Bane pointed to the plain wooden door to the receptionist's left. "Hi, Maria, I'm here to see Ted."
She did not answer right away but studied him thoughtfully. Then she sighed. "Dr Wright is in there. There's all I'm saying. Good thing you're here, Mr Bane."
Suddenly alarmed, the Dire Wolf moved past her silently and opened the office door without knocking. The room was a disaster. Textbooks, binders and loose stacks of papers were piled everywhere, with no organization. Behind his desk, Ted Wright was lying forward with his face resting on a bent forearm. On the edge of his desk was a half-eaten egg salad sandwich in its clear wrapper and a paper cup of coffee that had gone dry. The tightly curled hair was more grey than black at this point.
"Ted? What the hell?" asked Bane. He lunged forward and pressed two fingers to his friend's throat, placing his other hand on the man's back. The pulse was strong, breathing was deep and slow. That close, he sniffed and could tell Wright had not showered for at least three days. That was so unlike the Blue Guide. He was normally as clean in his person as a cat.
Wright stirred, moaned and sat up. He opened bleary dark eyes and blinked with some disorientation. "What? Is my one o'clock here...?"
Pulling him upright, Bane barked, "Come on, Ted, sit up. Come on now. It's me."
"Oh, hi, Jeremy. I must have dozed off." Wright was very dark-skinned, with heavy somber features and a full beard that was now peppered with grey at he entered his fifties. He rubbed his face with the back of one hand. "I, uh, I did an overnight at the ER last night. They called me in."
Bane's voice had a slight angry edge to it. "I know you gave up your apartment in the Village months ago. You only keep a couple of rooms on this floor with a bed and a bathroom. Ted, you're here at your clinic five days a week and usually Saturdays as well, mostly ten or eleven hours a day, and then you help out at the hospital at least two nights a week, more often three."
The Blue Guide gave a prodigious yawn and scratched his head. He was wearing a dark brown suit with a tan shirt and black tie, a white smock over it. His clothes were wrinkled and there was a coffee stain on his cuff. "Whew. Yeah, well, I have a responsibility, captain. My Blue Guide art lets me diagnose conditions before any lab test or blood work could...."
Jeremy Bane came around to stand in front of the desk. "Ted. Look at me. Am I your Tel Shai captain?"
That woke Wright to full awareness. "Yes, yes of course."
"Are you sworn to obey any lawful order I gave you, on penalty of losing your acceptance at Tel Shai?"
"Yes I am. Jeremy, what are you...?"
"Stand up, Ted. You're coming with me." Not giving the Blue Guide time to ask questions, Bane marched him out into the waiting room. "Maria!" he said. "Cancel all appointments for today and tomorrow. Call the ER and tell them Dr Wright will not be available until Monday at the earliest."
Seeing the confusion on her face, Wright told her, "It's okay, Maria. Do as he says. I owe this man my life several times over."
Heading for the door, pulling Wright by one arm, Bane called back, "We'll phone you Monday depending on how things go. Don't worry."
On on 38th Street, Bane manhandled Wright into the passenger seat. His car had not gotten a ticket yet. As they eased out into traffic, the Blue Guide exhaled sharply and asked, "Maybe an explanation?"
Bane was heading west, toward the Lincoln Tunnel. "Ted. I want you to take a nap for the next hour or so. I know you can do it with Tel Shai breathing techniques. Please, Ted."
"But.. Oh, very well. I'm too tired to argue." Leaning his seat back a little, Wright began the breathing cycle they had both been taught so long ago. In a few seconds, he had slipped off into a deep tranquil sleep. Bane drove on.
II.
Two and a half hours later, they had rented a cabin overlooking Coogan's Lake at the foot of the Catskill Mountains. Bane had been here once before, chasing the maniac Seneca. Wright took a steaming hot shower and came out to find that the Dire Wolf had stopped somewhere along the way to pick him up fresh clothes. Tugging on a rust-colored polo shirt and dark slacks, Wright was incredibly grateful for the new socks and underwear. He had been neglecting his hygiene for a few days.
"There's the Ted Wright I know," Bane said, getting up off the couch. The cabin was decorated all in dark wood, from the rafter to the counters and cabinets. Even the furniture was hand-carved with thin hard cushions to sit on. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been resurrected," the Blue Guide answered. He was eight years older than his friend, and it showed mostly in the deep vertical creases down his cheeks and the sadness in his eyes. "Thanks, Jeremy."
"Ah, it's a break for me, too. We're right outside of Clarion, it's a good-sized town. I know they have a steak house or two..."
Wright grinned and pointed at the door. "Nothing would suit me better, captain. My mouth is watering now."
They found a restaurant by the side of the road called BIG ROUND-UP, which had a Wild West theme. The waitresses wore cowgirl outfits with buckskin vests over white shirts, fringed skirts and Stetsons. Presented with enormous juicy steaks covered with onions, home fries and broccoli, they both dug in with intense enthusiasm. Bane as always drank ice water, but Wright indulged in a rare glass of beer. As the plates were being taken away, the Dire Wolf suggested hot apple pie and they enjoyed that as well.
Finally, waiting for the check, Wright wiped his mouth with a napkin and sighed. "Oh, I feel alive for the first time in years. Getting by on sandwiches and whatever the cafeteria had left over is no way to live. What's our agenda, captain?"
"We're playing hookey," Bane answered. "It's Friday night. Sunday, we'll head back down to the city but for now we're off duty. You want to look around town?"
"Yeah, sure. Maybe find some live music somewhere, I'm okay with Country." He pushed back his chair and reached for his wallet, but Bane raised a hand to stop him.
"I'm putting this on the expense account," he said. "This is listed as rehabilitation." He glanced up and suddenly those pale eyes had a cold glint in them. Wright turned around and saw a slightly overweight man with short reddish hair and a thick mustache approaching their table.
"Excuse me," the man said with a nervous smile. "Mr Bane? It IS Jeremy Bane, isn't it?"
"Yes," the Dire Wolf answered without any warmth. "Hello, Officer Beaumont."
"Oh, it's Sergeant Beaumont now," the man said. "My, it must be ten years since you helped us out against Seneca. There's not a man in the State Police who hasn't heard your story. I'm glad to see you here in the area again."
Wright smiled slightly and interrupted, "Nice to meet you, sergeant."
"How do you do? Ah, Mr Bane, I spotted you here and I was wondering if you might be interested in something we have going on right now. There's these two gangs shooting it out down in Newburgh. Three deaths last week and a suspicious fire..."
Bane raised a reproving hand. "Sergeant Beaumont. We are not available for that right now. I am sure the New York State Police can handle punks like that."
"Well, we're in on it because they seem to be using the Thruway rest stops for meetings. The usual coke and heroin deals. But if you're not available..?"
"Sorry," Bane said with a certain finality. "But we wish you good luck."
Very reluctantly, as if hoping the Dire Wolf would call him back, the trooper nodded and headed slowly for the door. Ted Wright watched him leave, then said, "Between us, we could probably clean up those gangs quick enough."
Bane made no attempt to hide his annoyance. "This was something the Teachers warned us about when we first applied to be students. Tel Shai knights can burn themselves out by trying to stay on duty day and night. We're Human, we need rest both physical and mental. Our Teachers know what they're talking about."
The Blue Guide nodded and pushed his chair back. "You're right. Or they're right. I was certainly wearing myself down."
"Having a breakdown or catching pneumonia because your resistance has been destroyed is not the answer," Bane agreed. He stood up as well. "You know what I bet you haven't played in twenty years? Pool!"
The dark face grinned, showing white teeth in the split of the thick beard. Wright looked years younger when he smiled. "Oh my. You are so right."
They found a bar and grill downtown that was quiet enough, with six or seven regulars drinking while watching sports on a big-screen TV. Bane and Wright both ordered beers and got refills. Although they didn't mention it, neither of them was affected by alcohol at this point. Decades on a tagra tea diet had adapted their bodies to just eliminate any toxins they ate or drank.
Finding the pool table unclaimed, the two KDF members enjoyed an hour of play. It was a sport where they could meet on equal terms. Bane's enhanced speed was no advantage behind a cue, and Wright's gralic perception only worked on living beings. The balls and the table treated them the same way they would treat anyone else. The beer was just to help them fit in.
At almost eleven, Wright made a scoffing noise and racked the balls one last time. "You realize we're not very good at this, right?"
"Oh, sure," Bane answered. "Can't be world's greatest at everything. I can't play chess either. Karl Eldritch made a chess reference once and seemed offended I didn't know what he meant. You ready to pack it in?"
"I think so." The Blue Guide clapped his friend on the shoulder and started to head for the exit. "To be honest, I'm still a little tired. Maybe I'm just getting old."
"This is where we both catch up on all the sleep we've missed over the years," Bane answered.
III.
With his hyperactive metabolism, the Dire Wolf only managed six hours asleep before snapping fully awake. Wright's gentle snoring from the other bed was reassuring. As stealthily as all his training could enable, Bane slipped out of bed and grabbed his slacks and the Link as he snuck outside. The sun was coming up behind the motel. He went down the walkway out of earshot and started checking his messages. Over the years, he had gathered an army of observers who kept an eye out for weird or supernatural events. Most of them were grateful because Bane had rescued them in the past and were more than happy to help out.
Everything seemed quiet. The Midnight War seemed to be in one of its occasional lulls. There was a message from Cindy, saying she would be back from her family on Monday, and Bleak had called just to say he had nothing to say. Bane smiled to himself and went back inside.
Going back in the room, he silently got dressed and then spent the most torturous hour he had endured for a while. Bane's constant restless energy made it difficult for him to sit still even when he was doing something. To simply wait silently in a quiet room took a huge effort of will. Finally, he was gratified when Ted Wright stirred. The Blue Guide smacked his lips, sat up and said, "Hey. Be right back," as he headed for the bathroom.
A few minutes later, drying his hands on a washcloth, Wright said, "What is it, seven o'clock? I should call my office."
"No. You should not. This is a vacation. I will tell you what. Three miles down the road is a diner we passed last night. Let's check it out."
The Blue Guide nodded, "Sounds good." He put on the same clothes he had been wearing the day before, with his soiled business suit hanging in the closet. "You ever bring different outfits for yourself, Jeremy? Something instead of those damn turtlenecks?"
"Not usually," Bane admitted. "I'm in a rut, that's certain. But we will be picking up some summer wear today."
Twenty minutes later, they were in a booth at the AGATHON DINER, watching as hot plates of food were brought over. Wright had an omelete with mushrooms, side order of wheat toast and home fries. Bane had ordered a double serving of French toast, with hash browns and bacon. They ate slowly, getting enjoyment out of the experience.
"Hey, Jeremy, you remember that time we were in Sardinia and tried the goat cheese? I hated it. But then, I thought the lamb was great."
The Dire Wolf took a second to finish a mouthful. "Oh, if you want to talk about strange food, what about our week in Chujir? I swear, anything they could pin down went on the plate. I had no idea what I was eating. Made genuine Chinese cuisine look timid."
Pushing his empty plate away, sipping some juice, Wright chuckled. "Now, for good food, I'd take Androval. Their roast beef was so tender you cut it with a fork and I loved how they grilled fish. Jeez, Jeremy, I haven't been in any of the adjacent realms in years."
"I want that to change," Bane told him seriously. "As captain, I am going to assign you to check out what's going on in an adjacent realm every week or so. Just a day in Androval or Myrrwha to meet with the leaders and see what's going on."
"I'm okay with that. Look at that sunlight outside. What were you saying about getting summer clothes?"
The Dire Wolf left money on the table next to the little tray with the bill. "Yeah, sounds like a plan." They left the diner, drove into Clarion and parked on the main street. Finding a men's clothing store a few blocks along, they each bought swim trunks, sandals, bright Hawaiian shirts and more socks and underwear. Wright picked a pair of BluBlocker sunglasses and Bane agreed it was a good idea, getting a pair for himself. At the last moment, Wright snatched a tan hat with a wide floppy hat for himself.
On the way back to the Mustang, Wright spotted a used book store. They doubled back after dropping off their packages and poked around. Finally, the Blue Guide decided on a paperback of Steinbeck's THE RED PONY. "Never got around to Steinbeck," he whispered. "Here's my chance." Bane fussed and eventually bought a large magazine of crossword puzzles and Circle-a-Words. "This might keep me busy," he muttered.
Returning to the motel, they changed into the shorts and loud shirts and sandals. Bane simply could not bear to go unarmed out in public. He wrapped the matched silver daggers, his Smith & Wesson 38 and his Link in a motel towel and took the bundle with them. They marched down the slope behind the building to a wide flat area bordering Coogan's Lake. There was no beach as such, but the property owners had built a stretch of wooden planks to sit or lie upon right next to the water.
Within an hour, Wright was getting deeply into THE RED PONY and was lost to the world. He was leaning back against a small birch tree. Bane did puzzles as long as he could stand it but eventually he threw the magazine down and jumped to his feet. "Guess I'll see how the water is, Ted," he explained as he walked a short distance away.
The Blue Guide grunted in a neutral tone. Bane dove cleanly into the water, hardly making a splash, and began stroking strongly out toward the center of the lake. After that, he was practicing different strokes, working on breath control and mostly just burning off excess energy. Finding a tree on one bank that bent down over the water, he climbed out and practiced swinging from one branch as far out as he could manage and diving in.
The day moved along. Knowing Bane was happier in motion, Wright glanced up at him from time to time but left him alone. He had forgotten how much he had used to love to read. There was never time. The last book he had finished had been something by Michener. CENTENNIAL? Anyway, it had been years earlier. Around three in the afternoon, the Dire Wolf leaped up out of the water and landed on the walkway.
Stripped down, Bane was a dramatic sight. He did not look like a bodybuilder but like a runner, and the long hard muscles stood out with remarkable definition. Drying in the sun, brushing his short hair with his fingers, he went over and dropped down to sit facing his friend. "How're you doing, Ted?"
"Great," the Blue Guide answered. He lowered the book beside him. "I just finished a chapter, so if you want to get going, I'd be okay with that."
Bane was watching newcomers with the innate suspicion that never quite left him. Two teenage boys and a girl, all in bathing suits, carrying a cooler. They passed nearby and the oldest boy, who had the sides of his head shaved and a tattoo on one arm of some rock band symbol, paused.
"Hope we won't be bothering you guys," he grinned.
"No, you're fine," Wright said easily. He tilted the floppy hat further back on his head. His Blue Guide powers involved sensing and adjusting the lifeforce in other people. He could enhance their vitality to speed healing or he could dampen that vitality to make them weak and helpless... this had been how he had fought in KDF battles without using violence. Gunmen and creatures of the night suddenly became listless and feeble under Wright's effects. Checking out the three young people passing by, the Blue Guide smiled happily at how healthy and disease-free they were. They were at an age of smoothly functioning organs with no aches or pains or chronic conditions. So good to be young, he thought wistfully.
"Excuse me," the girl interrupted. She was maybe seventeen, with the untamed enthusiasm of that age. Her long black hair was in a ponytail that swung as she moved. "I was wondering if you two maybe...SAW something?"
The Dire Wolf turned his grey eyes on her and she flinched a bit at their impact. "Like what?"
"Oh. Um, well.. there's stories around here about Frog Man. Jeff's father saw him when he was a boy, and every summer at least one or two people get a glimpse. He always shows up in late June or early July." She began to smile as she checked Bane out in those shorts. "Frog Man, you know?"
"I didn't see anything unusual out there," Bane admitted. "I've been swimming the past few hours."
"Frog Man is supposed to show up just before something bad happens," the boy with the tattoo put in. "He's spotted and there's a fatal car crash or a family loses their house in a fire. That sort of thing."
"Sorry," the Dire Wolf said. "I was out in the middle. Just the usual fish and a few birds and bugs."
The girl presented him a smile with a flash of perfect teeth. "It's not like anyone WANTS to see him. He's an omen. He looks like a six foot frog standing up on two legs. They saw if he points at you, you're the one that disaster hits."
"Really." Bane bent and picked up the bundle his towel made, dryly amused that these kids were unaware it contained a loaded revolver and two silver-bladed throwing knives. "In that case, I hope you guys don't run into him. Have fun."
Seeing that his captain was ready to leave, Ted Wright got up from where he had been leaning back against the tree, book in hand. He gave the three teens a friendly wave as he started back up the slope toward the motel.
Returning to their room, they started getting dressed again. Bane tugged on the silk-thin flexible Trom armor that covered him from neck to wrists and ankles, then put on black slacks and a fresh turtleneck. He strapped on the sheaths holding the daggers to his forearms with visible relief.
For his part, Wright exchanged the swim trunks for lightweight slacks and a plain white T-shirt. He put the garish Hawaiian shirt back on again because he seemed to have taken a liking to it. "I'm a little surprised you aren't more interested in Frog Man out there."
"Maybe I'll look into it some other time," Bane said. He got a bottle of water from the waist high refrigerator and took a long swig. "I'm a bit annoyed that the Midnight War has tried to intrude twice in less than twenty-four hours. A day or two without chasing monsters or shooting it out with killers shouldn't be too much to ask for."
Standing by the TV that was on top of the dresser, the Blue Guide started going through channels without much enthusiasm. "Ah, Jeremy. There is always going to be an emergency on hand. Something is always desperate and urgent. It's always 'later than you think.'"
"You got that right," said the Dire Wolf, pulling aside the curtains to peer outside. "Damn, I can't help being restless. You want to go into town and walk around, Ted?"
"Sure. Some window shopping, maybe pick up some more clothes to take home. I realize now I don't have much of a wardrobe anymore. Been wearing the same three suits over and over, just about living in them." He watched as Bane clipped on the holster holding his revolver to his belt, then shrugged on the jacket which hid it. "You expect to be using that, captain?"
"Better to have it and not need it.."
"Than need it and not have it," Wright finished for him. "I know. Sad but true."
IV.
They had enjoyed a long unhurried meal at an Italian restaurant called HUNGRY BAMBINO, lingering as they chatted about old friends and enemies from their earlier years.
"Remember when we went to Ulgor and negotiated a truce with the Melgarin?" Wright asked. "Those people had literally never seen a black man before. I don't think they even know what one was. They were dying to touch my skin. Cindy was laughing so hard at their expressions that her ribs hurt."
"It was funny," Bane said. "I don't exactly MISS Atron Ke. He was a huge pain in the ass, but when he was on our side, he was a big help. The problem was, you never knew which side he would take."
Putting his napkin down, Ted Wright sighed. "I've eaten better since we left Manhattan than I have in years. That was really good. Sharp flavor and lots of bulk to fill your stomach, how can you not like lasagna?"
"Getting dark out," the Dire Wolf observed. "Come on, let's walk this off a bit." They left the restaurant and started strolling along Clarion's main street. Halfway up one block was a movie theatre with its marquee proclaiming two features, a romantic comedy I AM TRYING TO BREAK YOUR HEART and a thriller DOWN BY THE CREEK. They stood for a moment studying the posters displayed.
"I always love a good mystery," Wright said. "DOWN BY THE CREEK looks interesting, kind of long though. The director did another movie I thought was great, it had a twist at the end that snuck up on me. Look. Next showing is in ten minutes."
Bane seemed distracted. He had been gazing down the street and now he swung back to full attention. "Yeah. Uh, well, Ted, to be honest, I can't sit still for two hours in a theater. How about you go see this movie and I circle the town and come back here to meet you when it gets out?"
"All right," Wright answered a bit dubiously. He gave Bane a quizzical look. "It's better than having you fidget and squirm in your seat. You all right, captain?"
"Me? Sure." The Dire Wolf tugged down his jacket and obviously was itching to get going. "That's the price for my extra speed. I'm always hyper. All right, you know what, I'll meet you back here in two hours. Have fun."
"Sure." Wright watched the Dire Wolf take off at a brisk pace down the street, veering right at the next corner. He resembled a cat eagerly chasing a mouse. The Blue Guide shook his head, took a deep breath and went back to checking out the cast listed for DOWN BY THE CREEK.
Already four blocks away, Bane paused on a corner and faded into the doorway of a shoe store that had been closed up for some time. There he was. Jonathan Todd, the Host. The thick white hair and pale skin were just as he remembered them. Todd wore a long dark coat that reached his ankles, with the collar turned up as if it were about to rain. The Host was standing across the side street from a barber shop with an old-fashioned red-and-white striped pole fastened by the front door.
Warily, Bane crept a little closer and concealed himself again on the wall of a building away from Todd. It had been a few years since the Host had terrorized the Deep South. His killing spree through Alabama and Georgia had racked up two dozen dead bodies before he had disappeared without explanation.
Watching the stiff, expressionless face that was glaring at the barber shop, Bane remembered that only he had realized what the South had been dealing with. The police and FBI had figured Todd to be just a lunatic with a lot of luck, but Bane had known better. The reports of the Host ignoring multiple gunshot wounds, strangling men twice as big as he was, hiding at the bottom of a swimming pool for an hour to ambush a gang lord... Jonathan Todd was unnatural. Bane had decided he was that rarity, a functional zombie who had retained full intelligence and motivation.
Where the Host had been since then was a question that could wait. The Dire Wolf adjusted the daggers under his sleeves to make sure they were ready and he loosened the Smith & Wesson in his holster. Todd was doing nothing more than studying the barber shop, standing motionless as no living being could, arms down limp at his sides. Bane's Kumundu training made him sensitive to tiny motions in anyone he observed, and he could tell the Host was not only not breathing, there was none of the tiny swaying and compensation a living person made when standing.
Watching tensely, the Dire Wolf wondered for a second what the odds were that Todd should be here in this upstate town on the same weekend that he himself was here. It was incredible. Cindy had often told Bane that he was a "weirdness magnet" and that massively unlikely events would happen wherever he happened to be. Bane wasn't sure of that. More likely, it was as Ted had said earlier, that there was always an emergency or threat nearby. It was "always later than you think," in Ted's words.
Barber shops were often used as covers for criminal activities. Drug deals and clandestine meetings could be done in the back room and no one noticed how many men strolled in and out, nor how long they remained in the shop. As Bane watched, Jonathan Todd stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the narrow side street toward the open door of the barber shop. Wherever the Host went, there was always a massacre.
The Dire Wolf took two steps forward to intervene, his left hand drawing the silver dagger from his right sleeve. This was not going to be easy, his best chance would be to pounce suddenly on Todd and slice him up before the Undead could get those cold hands on him...
Then, the Host froze in place, shuddered and fell apart. He collapsed straight down into a pile of loose bones and dried shards of flesh. It happened in an instant. Down the block, the Dire Wolf stood where he was and slowly replaced his dagger to its sheath. That was unexpected. For a long minute, he watched the small heap of decay and debris in front of the barber shop. An old man in a white smock peered out and yelled something as he saw the gruesome pile.
Bane drew back into a doorway and relaxed slightly. Apparently, whatever curse had been reanimating Todd had run out. Now, the terror that had been known as the Host was just the remains of a corpse that had died more than a decade earlier. Well, that was lucky, the Dire Wolf thought as he watched two men come out of the barber shop to reluctantly examine the grisly heap on the sidewalk.
Further back on that block, Ted Wright smiled and ducked around the edge of a building back onto the main street. He was sure Bane had not detected his presence. The Blue Guide knew his captain well and had realized there was something menacing in the area by the way Bane had been eager to get on its trail. Seeing the Host, Wright had used his ability to siphon away the gralic force animating the Undead, making it a true corpse again. Now, satisfied, the Blue Guide started walking quickly back toward the movie theatre. If he could still buy a ticket, he wouldn't mind having missed twenty minutes of the movie. It would be worth it to see how Bane told this story when they joined each other later. For the first time in too long, Ted Wright shook with silent laughter.
4/9/2016
