"Skeeter"

"Skeeter"

10/6/2020


I.

On an unseasonably warm and muggy afternoon in early October, Timothy Limbo pulled up to the main entrance of the HealthAlliance Hospital. He was driving Foster's three year old Mazda CX-3 with its distinctive bright green paint job. A slightly built young man just below average height, Tim had a friendly, open face that people instinctively liked. His lank yellow hair hung down dangerously close to getting in his eyes.

The double doors hissed open and Foster hobbled out. A few years older than Timothy, a few inches taller and a few pounds heavier, Foster Whitcomb was wearing a black T-shirt and khaki shorts that revealed his left ankle was in a cast and his left knee bound with an Ace bandage. Gauze dressings covered most of his left forearm as well.

Out from behind the wheel in a rush, Tim handed Foster a wooden crutch and placed a comforting hand on his partner's uninjured shoulder. "They let you out kind of early, didn't they? I thought you'd be in there at least a day."

"Aw, it's not that bad, Tim. A hairline fracture in the ankle, some gouges and scrapes. They cleaned everything. I have to watch for signs of infection, though." As Tim opened the passenger door, Foster climbed in with a visible wince. "It'd be great to have your enhanced healing, Tim."

"I know, I know. The Teachers won't even consider it. I'm not even allowed to discuss it with you." Swinging around the front of the car, Timothy slid into the driver's seat again and started the engine. "I'll be honest, they don't approve of knights of Tel Shai having relationships with what they call civilians."

Struggling with the seat belt straps, Foster scoffed. "Think they'd feel different if I was a woman?"

"No. I don't think it matters. I mean, the Teachers ARE a hundred years old except for Cindy and Shaw, but they're open-minded. I've seen students of every ethnic group, including some I still can't figure out. The Order works on ability and character and potential. They don't care who or how you love."

"I suppose," Foster conceded. "Anyway. The doctors totally believed I slipped going down a hill and banged myself up on some rocks. Didn't ask any questions. No one but you knows what really happened."

Stopping at a light on Cedar Street, Tim snorted unhappily. "Silent Joe knows. He was almost within reach when you fell down that hill and I wasn't far behind him. That was a steep slope, Foster, and I couldn't see you from the road. I had to find out if you were okay."

"Are you annoyed about that?" Foster asked. "We were trying to locate Silent Josh for a week and you were just about to tackle him when I did somersaults down the hill. If I hadn't been there, you'd be turning Silent Josh over to the FBI's Department 21 Black."

Rolling forward again, Tim reached over to squeeze Foster's bruised hand very lightly. "I wasn't thinking that way. There was no decision to be made. Making sure you were all right was all that mattered. Department 21 Black is chasing Silent Josh now. Let them take over."

They were heading south along streets that started to show a gradual downward slope as they neared Esopus Creek. A few gorgeous old Episcopalm churches from the 1800s loomed up on either side. Tim asked, "Do we need to stop for anything? Groceries?"

"No, I'm all stocked up. My podcast has been turning a nice profit lately, Tim. I'm hinting at occult subjects that no one else knows about."

Timothy Limbo sounded more stern than he usually allowed his voice to express. "Oh no, Foster, don't give away secrets of the Midnight War. There's a reason it's forbidden knowledge. Let people tease themselves with silly things like astrology or palm reading or prophetic dreams. Those are safe. But I told you... Nothing in your podcast about the adjacent realms or the Seven Races. Nothing about gralic sorcery or what really comes out to stalk in the middle of the night."

Shifting his weight uneasily, Foster took a moment to answer. "I've been careful, Tim. Just hints and suggestions and little clues. Nothing that anyone could get in danger looking into. But after all, investigating the badlands is my life work. Even before we met, my WIND BETWEEN THE GRAVESTONES was the top podcast on the supernatural."

"I don't want to get into a fight," Tim answered. He pulled up against the curb near the ancient four story yellow brick building where Foster's apartment was. "You know. hon, have we thought about the inconvenience this place gives you? You're supposed to keep weight off that ankle AND the knee, but your building ha no elevator."

Unbuckling his seat belt, Foster rubbed a hand on the back of his partner's neck. "Heh, that's why the rent is so reasonable. Four flights of stairs and the building is at the bottom of a godawful hill no one can drive when it snows."

"True, true. But right now, I don't know if hiking up and down the stairs is in your best interest. And I can't stay here, I have to report back to headquarters tomorrow by three PM." He sighed with genuine exasperation. "KDF schedules are so whacky. We're mostly on duty from eleven at night until seven in the morning but one day a week we have monitor duty during the day. Our team is active overnight.:

"It's not called the Midnight War for nothing," Foster agreed. "I don't know if I've even mentioned it, Timothy Lucas Lambert, but I believe in what you do. The knights of Tel Shai, the members of the Kenneth Dred Foundation... you guys are needed. People don't realize what terrors of the darkness are kept away by your team."

"It's nice to hear that, buddy. I know my KDF schedule makes our getting together difficult but... You know what, let's get some drive-through fast food at Burger Hell."

Foster laughed and any tension between them evaporated. "Sounds good. I haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch. Some salt, grease and caffeine would hit the spot."

But as Tim turned the key in the ignition, a thin flat device on his belt beeped three times. He grumbled something incoherent and said, "I have to take this. Hello. Sable? What's up?"

As clear and rich as if she were sitting next to them, Sable's voice said, "Glad to reach you, Tim. I know it's your off day and you're with Foster, but something ominous is going on."

"And we're always on call," Tim answered without resentment. "Go ahead, captain."

"Something going on not twenty minutes from where your signal is," Sable continued. "You know the bicycle trail that runs to the uptown plaza. Some missing pets have been reported there the past few weeks and now a Human cadaver has been found. I'm told there's a puncture wound in the chest and the body is wrinkled from having most of its blood drained."

"I'm on my way," Tim replied. "I'll report as I go."

"One more thing," Sable's voice said. "I haven't been happy about Archie accompanying Megan on her 'Trom Girl Mysteries.' And Archie is a big bruiser who was in the Army and who can handle himself in a fight. I like Foster, he's a good person, but I don't want another civilian getting too deep into Midnight War. It's dangerous even for us. We should not be placing our friends and loved ones in harm's way."

"Understood, I'll keep him far back from any phenomena," Tim said and broke the connection. He turned to Foster and raised an eyebrow. "So my captain wants you to stay away from the monsters and murderers."

That made Foster laugh out loud. "Telling me NOT to do something guarantees I'll do it. Come on, buddy, let's look for a blood-sucker."

( the rest of the story )