"Passing For Live People"
May. 15th, 2022 07:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Passing For Live People"
1/11/1995
I.
When Bane finally finished some hated paperwork at seven-fifteen, night had fallen with a vengeance. He got up gratefully from his desk and stretched, then went over to the windows that looked out at the sidewalks of East 38th Street. It was cold and dark, the holidays were over, and nobody was out on the street who didn't have to be.
Jeremy Bane was more restless and unhappy than usual. He was alone in this huge empty ten-story building which had once been alive with the hectic activity and purpose of his team of Tel Shai knights. Maybe Cindy was right. Maybe it was time to start assembling a new team. He felt like he was living in a museum....
As the Dire Wolf gazed sourly out at the street, he watched two odd men hurry past. They were mismatched, with one being tall and thin, the other a short pudgy fellow with a belly like a beach ball. They both wore tan suits, with ties neatly knotted and even matching fedoras which gave them an old-fashioned look. Whatever they were arguing about, it seemed to be a routine they were used to.
Bane saw them slow as they approached the front door of his building. Suddenly he snapped into full awareness. Clients? Business for the DIRE WOLF AGENCY? He hoped so. He turned and rushed from his office, getting out in the hall by the front door just as the doorbell rang. Good. He was so bored he had thought of prowling the bad parts of town that night looking for trouble.
Pressing the intercom, he said, "Come right in," and unlocked the outer street door with a white button. He heard the buzz and click as the two visitors were admitted into the tiny vestibule which held only a bench, a shelf with a lamp and some magazines, and a framed oil portrait of the late Kenneth Dred.
At eye level where he stood, there was a wooden panel which slid aside to reveal a monitor screen and rows of controls. As always, he activated the advanced Trom sensors in the vestibule which scanned any visitors more quickly and thoroughly than a MRI would. As he saw the bizarre readings, Bane's grey eyes narrowed with a predatory gleam. No respiration, bodies at outside air temperature. He zoomed in on one of the skeletal images and saw the sharpened upper canines...
As always, the Dire Wolf was wearing his trademark outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket. As he closed the control panel, he reached up his sleeves and adjusted the matched silver daggers that were sheathed there to be sure they were ready for use. Tonight might be interesting after all. He opened the inner door and said, "What can I do for you gentlemen?"
This close, the signs of their condition were more obvious. Both men were pale, with dark circles under their eyes. Their skin looked dry and unhealthy. The short obese man took off his hat and held it in front of him humbly. "Gosh, I sure hope you can help us, mister," he began in a juvenile voice that didn't match the forty year old face. "We're in an awful jam."
"Quiet, Tubs, let me do the talking," interrupted the tall thin man. He had a neat pencil mustache under a slightly oversized nose. "Mr Bane, I hope? Jeremy Bane, of Dire Wolf fame?"
"That's me," Bane admitted. "And you...?"
"Ah, I'm Donald Flaherty and this is my bud Gene Marino. Everybody calls us Stretch and Tubs, I hope you do the same."
"Fine with me, Stretch. Would you two mind standing right over here? On this rug. You don't feel uncomfortable there? Interesting." Bane folded his arms and gazed thoughtfully at the two visitors. "There's a powerful talisman under the floor that protects against hostile gralic force. So I know that you guys are not here to attack me, at least not right at the moment."
"I don't follow," said Tubs. He turned to his partner in confusion. "What's he talking about, Stretch?"
The Dire Wolf watched the two men warily. "You guys must have just risen. You aren't aware yet. Do you know that you're both vampires?"
II.
Stunned into silence, staring numbly at each other, the two men were brought to straightback chairs in front of the huge desk in Bane's office. Under a hand-painted map of the world as it had been in 1937, the Dire Wolf dropped into his swivel chair and watched them closely. "Suppose you tell me the last thing you remember?"
"All right," Stretch began. His voice sounded more abrasive the more he went on. "It was a blonde that got us in trouble, as always. Tubs met this cute little number somehow and she talked him into hiring us out to help some guy named Patch move his furniture...."
"She is a tomato, you gotta admit!" Tubs put in. "Those eyes! Those lips! That other stuff!"
"Yeah, sure, sure. Anyway, the address was out in Central Jersey, quite a drive. When we got there, we saw the joint was a big old mansion miles from the nearest house. And we didn't see anyone else around, just the blonde. She said we'd have a drink before we got to work."
"That's when everything went... BLACK. I mean, we just woke up an hour ago, lying on the floor like two stiffs. I looked out the window and saw a Monster," Tubs rushed to get it all out.
"A Monster?" asked Bane as casually as if Tubs had mentioned seeing a delivery van go by.
"Yeah. Big ugly brute. Gives you nightmares where you think you wake up but it turns out to be another nightmare, you know? Stretch and I couldn't find the blonde and we didn't want the Monster to see us so we tippie toed out to our Buick and drove here." Tubs shuddered violently, dropping his fedora and having to grunt as he reached to retrieve it.
"And what made you come to me?"
"Aw, we heard of you," Stretch cut in again. "We're native New Yorkers, we know about the Dire Wolf. If anyone can figure out what happened, it'd be you."
"Take your pulses," Bane said.
After half a minute, Tubs screamed, "I ain't got one! I don't got a pulse! Am I dead? I don't FEEL dead."
"Mr Bane," Stretch finally said, "give it to us straight."
"All right. You two are vampires. Not dead, Undead. That blonde lured you into a warren. Last night, two of them drank your blood and tonight you rose." The Dire Wolf shook his head sadly. "Sometimes the transformation takes a little while. Tomorrow night at the latest, the change will be complete. You'll start thirsting for blood yourself.
"You're kidding right, you gotta be kidding, tell me he's kidding Stretch, hey mister are you kidding--"
"Shaddup," Stretch explained. "So, seriously, what's going to happen to us?"
Bane did not answer directly. There was no cure for vampirism that he had ever found which worked. "First things first," he said to distract them. "We go back to that mansion, confront that woman and the err Monster. We find out why they did this. What are they up to?" With that, he stood up and grabbed his long black coat that was hanging from a hook on the back of the office door.
"Uh, are we gonna have to pay you? I know you're a detective and they don't come cheap," Tubs began. "My sister hired a dick to watch her husband and it turned out they became pals and started going bowling together and charging her for the time..."
This time it was Bane who interrupted the chubby little man. "No. I'm doing this as a public service. Let's go, where did you guys leave your car?"
"It's parked one block over," Stretch answered. He buttoned his coat up tighter. "What a night. I was supposed to sit in on a hot poker game later."
As they headed out into the front hall, Tubs suddenly asked, "Hey, am I going to be able to turn into a bat? I wouldn't mind that."
Despite himself, the Dire Wolf smiled. These two so far seemed oblivious to how horrible their condition really was. Or that he was going to have to destroy them before they spread the vampirism further. Aloud, he said, "It takes years to develop that power. Or hypnotism or any of the other weird abilities. What? Is that your car?"
They had stopped in front of a huge 1949 Buick Riviera that was almost high enough to stand up in. It was in prime condition, as if lovingly restored by experts.
"Yeah, I like something solid and reliable," Stretch barked as he went around to the driver's side. Tubs gestured and said, "I don't mind sittin' in the back if youse wanna be up front, Mr Bane."
"Thanks," said the Dire Wolf. He was increasingly puzzled by these two. They seemed out of work or underemployed, since they had agreed to help move furniture for cash. How could they afford a vintage car like this? It did match their old-fashioned suits, with the wide lapels and the trousers hitched up almost to navel height. They seemed to be as much from the late 1940s as this car was.
Maybe there was more to them... and this case... than he had thought at first. As they headed through sparse traffic toward the Lincoln Tunnel, he listened to Stretch explain how property in New Jersey used to be almost free before the Tunnel made commuting from Manhattan convenient. It sounded almost as if he had been there himself. Bane prompted the two of them with a few brief questions. He learned they had been in the Army together, had gone into business after returning to civilian life but had not made the fortune they had expected.
Passing through a residential area surrounding a mall, they went along a back road which ended with a substantial hill. Around the grounds was a waist-high stone fence. Stretch circled the estate and pulled through an open gate that had a bronze plaque PRIVATE PROPERTY- POSTED.
"Here we go again," mumbled Tubs unhappily from the back seat. "And I was so glad to get away from here."
Peering through the windshield at an elegant three story house in fine condition, with many lighted windows and the driveway cleared of snow, Bane reflected wryly that the place was kept better than most of the shambles his cases ended up in. Quietly, he reached behind himself to adjust the holster behind his hip that held his long-barreled .38 Smith & Wesson. In addition to the silver daggers, he carried his usual assortment of gadgets and gimmicks concealed in his clothes but of course his main trust was in his hard-trained body and its fighting skills.
"Okay, stop here," Bane ordered. As Stretch hit the brakes before heading up the driveway, the Dire Wolf opened his door. "I'm going to do a recon, I'll meet you guys in there."
"Wait, what do we say?" Tubs pleaded. "We say 'Ah, sorry we panicked, we're not used to being freakin' VAMPIRES, it never happened to us before?!' "
"That'll work fine," Bane said as he stepped into the darkness and disappeared. In his all-black outfit, with his training in stealth, he seemed to vanish like a magic trick. In an instant, he was over the wall and racing through the murk around to the rear of the house. There was a large shed back there and a dark SUV by a patio. In a window by the back door, a dim glimmer indicated a nightlight.
Taking his time, Bane checked for alarms but couldn't find any. It had been his experience that supernatural bad guys tended to skip regular burglar alarms for some reason. Maybe that they found the idea too mundane. Pressing up against the rear wall of the building, he peeked through the curtains of the dim window and saw a normal enough kitchen. Taking a Trom device from an inner pocket, the Dire Wolf got the back door open and stepped into the house.
Treading silently, moving slowly and smoothly, Bane started searching through the building. There was a walk-in closet and a bathroom, both unremarkable. A narrow door opened to reveal steep wooden steps leading down. By this time, his night vision had adapted and he could see almost as well as if there had been light. Careful not to make the steps creak, the Dire Wolf reached the bottom of the steps and barely breathed in the mildewed air.
Most of the cellar was empty. Some packing crates and luggage and lawn chairs were pushed up against a wall, and there was a furnace with its vent extending up into the ceiling. A water heater stood in one corner. But none of this mattered. Bane's attention was taken up entirely by a half dozen ragged emaciated forms that swayed where they stood. Their heads hung down, and none of them seemed to notice him. The smell of decay was unmistakable.
Zombies. Bane started back up the stairs again.
III.
The most beautiful young woman Stretch and Tubs had seen in a long time regarded them with arms folded across her bust. She seemed deeply amused. Gina McDaniel was no more than twenty-one, with a trim perfect figure in tight slacks and a white silk blouse that buttoned down the front. She had butter-yellow hair cut short in an untidy shag, a freckled cheerleader face with dark blue eyes and a wicked smile with emphasis on wicked.
"And just what happened to you two?" she said as she met them at the foot of the stairs just inside the front door.
"I, uh..well, we... that is..." Tubs ended with wheezing confusion.
"Look sister, something damn strange happened to us. You better start with the explanations," Stretch barked. He had taken off his fedora and crumpled it in one hand as he gestured at her.
"Oh. If you only knew....!" Gina chuckled. "Are you fellows feeling a bit strange? Always cold perhaps? Catch yourself staring at throats perhaps?" She stepped closer. "Has it finally dawned that you've joined our ranks?"
"WHAT? You're a vampire too?" blurted Tubs without thinking.
"Hee hee. Nothing so common." She placed a slender hand on her chest. "I'm that rarity, a voluntary shape-shifter. You haven't heard of Golden Wolf, of course, you two know nothing of the Midnight War."
"I got a real bad feeling about this," Tubs said. "I wish that nice Mr Bane was here right now."
"Bane? JEREMY Bane?" Gina snapped. "How do you know him?"
With that, the Dire Wolf walked quietly around from behind her and stood next to Stretch and Tubs. He had made a quick search of the house in those few minutes and thought he now knew what he was dealing with. "How can I resist a cue like that?"
Between Bane and Gina was an instant fierce tension. She actually crouched slightly and glared at him with a rage that made the beauty slip away from her face. The Dire Wolf met her stare evenly, but he was standing in a relaxed open stance that would allow him to react to an attack from any angle.
"Silver..." she hissed. "You are wearing silver."
"Oh, yes," replied Bane. "I've got a file on you, all right. But I have to say you are just a minor annoyance compared to your boss." He stepped back closer to Stretch and Tubs. "This woman is a werewolf all right, she's left a trail of chewed-up victims all over Tennessee and Kentucky and Western Pennsylvania."
Gina smiled gleefully, as if he had complimented her on a new hair style.
"But," the Dire Wolf repeated, "she's small game compared to her boss. He was the Monster that Tubs saw through the window. Only Samhain comes even close to the amount of killing and suffering that he's caused over the past century. All right.. Where is Quilt?"
"He'll be back soon," Gina answered as she regained her composure. "Would you like to wait for him?"
Jeremy Bane gave a remarkably predatory smile as his answer. His expression was that of a cat crouching just before it pounces.
"I bet," the female shape-shifted scoffed. "Well, as long as the violence isn't going to start until then, we might as well be comfortable. Lonegan! Lonegan, where the hell are you?" she called.
A tall man in evening clothes stepped through a doorway. He was so pale he might have been taken for an albino except his thinning hair was brown and his sunken eyes dark. "Yes.. Miss Gina?"
"How is the dining room?"
"All is ready, Miss Gina.. shall I set another place for our guest?" The most unappealing butler ever watched Bane with only a vague semblance of interest.
"Certainly." The lovely blonde smiled a flash of brilliant teeth that would have won most men over. "Tubs, Stretch, I don't see why you two shouldn't join us." She headed for a pair of tall double doors at the end of the hall, with everyone following. Lonegan lurched ahead of them, grasping the brass doorhandles with bony hands as he ushered them in.
The dining room was immaculate. Around a long polished table, high backed chairs were upholstered with pale yellow silk, which matched the drapes and white gold furnishings. Even the china had thin gold rings around the outer edges of the plates, and the cutlery was white gold. Subdued lighting and fresh cut flowers on a stand added to the favorable impression.
Seating herself not at the head of the table but at the right hand position, Gina motioned for Bane to sit opposite her. Tubs plopped down gracelessly at Bane's side and Stretch pulled out a chair for himself next to Gina, obviously enjoying the view. As they adjusted their napkins, Lonegan entered with a cart stacked with stainless steel heating servers and started filling their plates. He was careful to let the Dire Wolf see they were all being served from the same tureens of soup, the same dish of Au Gratin potatoes, the same pile of lamb chops. Finally, he opened two bottles of red wine but left them on the table and did not fill their glasses.
Having thought it over, Bane decided to eat sparingly and not just refuse as common sense told him to. His decades on a tagra diet had toned his body to the point where it either rejected poison or wasn't affected by it. He could not feel any effects from alcohol at all at this point and was capable of drinking whole bottles of whiskey with no reaction good or bad. The lamb chops were recognizably just lamb chops, not human flesh in disguise or anything like that. As he watched Gina McDaniel dig into her own meal with enthusiasm, he started sampling. His senses couldn't detect anything suspicious.
Glancing over, he was a little surprised to see Tubs and Stretch also eating with gusto. "I didn't expect you boys to still like regular food," he said mildly.
Tubs stopped with his lamp chop still in his hand, and his eyes bugged out. "I... you know, I'm hungry and this is good. I don't feel like drinking blood or anything."
"Me neither," Stretch put in. "Say, some of that wine would be welcome, sister."
With a faint smile, Gina leaned over and started pouring small amounts into everyone's glasses. She gave much more to herself and seemed to think this was hilarious. "You boys should know you were not bitten by another vampire in the usual way. Our boss himself used the Undead spell he extracted from a Red Sect sorcerer years ago."
Bane gave in and said the meal was delicious. "Did Lonegan cook it by himself?"
"Oh yes," Gina replied as she patted her mouth with a fine napkin. "He used to be in some demand as a chef..."
"When he was alive, you mean?" Bane said.
"Yes." The Golden Wolf gave her most angelic smile. "He's been with us a year. Not so long ago, really."
The Dire Wolf sipped his wine, barely enough to get a whiff of the bouquet. "He looks so fresh."
She laughed as naturally as if he had complimented her on her choice of wines. "Yes he does. But I suppose it's just like the living, some age better than others!"
"Stretch, I TOLD you he was a zombie!" Tubs almost yelled. "A werewolf. A zombie. And the two of us, freshman vampires. What kinda meshuga party is this, it's not even Halloween!"
"I think I'm beginning to see what Quilt is up to," Bane said as if to himself. He finished his lamb chop. "I haven't had those in years, I'd forgotten how good they are."
Gina could not restrain her wicked side any longer. "Of course, it's never as good when you don't kill it yourself!"
All heads turned as the door to the dining room slammed open and the horrifying figure of Quilt loomed up in its opening.
IV.
The Monster was dressed in what remained of a black suitcoat and trousers, tattered and ripped, with a white shirt underneath. He was closer to seven feet tall than six, wide enough that a normal man could stand behind him and be hidden. When the Monster entered that room, his head jerked around unevenly. He was hideous, a white-skinned brute with lank black hair on a misshapen skull, a protruding brow ledge over two mismatched eyes with one higher than the other. His nose was a peg set up almost between the eyes. Then he grinned, showing yellowed teeth in a gash of a mouth.
"Well, it's always a treat when old friends meet," Quilt said in a startlingly mellow voice. "Gina dear, have you invited the worst enemy that the Children of the Night have into my home?"
"Not me," Golden Wolf answered promptly. "These clowns escaped somehow and immediately brought Bane here. I was just keeping him occupied until you returned."
The Patchwork Zombie, assembled by Darthan magic from the parts of seven different corpses, lumbered forward. He moved a bit stiffly, as if not quite in control of his limbs. Stopping at the opposite end of the dining table from where everyone was sitting, he lowered himself into the chair which creaked under his weight. "So.. Dire Wolf. I trust the cuisine was adequate?"
"Let me see if I've guessed your scheme this time," Bane said. "You've got a voluntary howler over there, she can look completely normal whenever she wants. Your butler and chef is a zombie that you have kept presentable much longer than usual. And you have made these two into semi-vampires that keep some human traits That's rare but it does happen... there hasn't been a 'living vampire' in a long time."
The hideous grin remained on Quilt's face. His eyes were not only not aligned on the same plane, with one being higher up than the other, but they did not match. The lower eye was a cloudy blue and the other had a brown iris. Their stare was unnerving at best. "Oh, do go on. You have never failed to impress me, Jeremy."
For his part, Bane had subtly pushed his chair back from the table when everyone had been distracted by the Monster's entrance. Now, with his feet planted firmly in front of him, the Dire Wolf was in a better position to move. Meeting Quilt's gaze calmly, Bane said, "You've led a few gangs of ordinary mortal crooks. That never seems to work well for you. So my guess is that you are trying to form a sort of legion of supernaturals who can pass for Human. Zombies and vampires, mostly, I bet, although I think Ghouls in their early stages would work well too. Am I right?"
"Good. Very good." Quilt reached for an empty glass and poured himself some wine from the second bottle. In a conversational tone, he remarked, "I don't know why I bother with this. I don't have any sense of taste or smell. Possibly it's a lingering vestige of memory from whoever owned this brain before me."
Bane took a sip from his own glass. "This whole plan of having creatures who can pass as living people reminds me. I always wanted to ask, why haven't you had plastic surgery to look more normal? Seriously, a few operations would make you less noticeable."
"I've considered it," the Patchwork Zombie answered. "It could be done. But being able to terrify mortals just by one's appearance has its advantages. Well, enough of this." He turned to the two buddies at the end of the table. "Stretch, is it? And your pal Tubs. You were chosen because you have no close family, no girlfriends. You are, how can I put it, two men whose disappearance would hardly be noticed. Perfect for this grand experiment." The Monster put his glass down and folded two white hands that were scarred and misshapen. "And yet, you immediately managed to bring my greatest enemy to my very table..!"
"Uh-oh," gulped Tubs. "I didn't even know we was working for this guy and we got him mad at us."
Stretch hushed him. "Now, look here..."
"Be still, you imbecile!" bellowed Quilt.
"Hey, watch who you're calling names, Frankenstein!" snapped Stretch.
With a roar, the giant Monster rose up, seized the edge of the table in front of him with both hands and flung the entire table up on its end to crash against the wall behind it, pinning Jeremy Bane with murderous force. For once, the Dire Wolf was taken completely off guard. He had been expecting an attack from Lonegan or Gina in wolf form. He was crushed against the wall with an impact that cracked bones and might have easily killed most men.
Striding forward, Quilt pressed the vertical table firmly against the wall, flattening the Dire Wolf further. Then the Monster let the table fall to one side and laughed as he saw his enemy slump limply to the plush carpeting. Plates, food, cutlery and broken glass were everywhere. The linen tablecloth was draped mostly to one side.
"I don't think the big guy likes being called Franken.. you know," whispered Tubs to his partner.
"You killed him!" said Stretch, kicking back his chair and swinging around. If he expected to leave, he changed his mind as he found the butler Lonegan towering over him.
Quilt reached down to seize Bane's feet and hauled the limp form up off the floor effortlessly. "Oh, no, no. Not at all. You do not know this man. He is a Tel Shai knight, they are ridiculously hard to slay. Soon he will revive and heal as though this mishap had not befallen him." Turning his head, the Monster ordered, "Lonegan! Get a few of the lesser zombies from the cellar and have them clean up this debris."
Standing to one side, Gina raised her shoulders and shuddered. She had known her master was strong, but that display had surprised her. "What do you want me to do?"
"Just stand by, my dear," Quilt replied as he held the unconscious Dire Wolf up and examined him suspiciously. "The interrogation will go on for quite a long time, and I may need help. Torture is so tedious."
V.
Hours later, Bane snapped back to awareness. His whole body hurt, particularly his chest and sides, but he felt nothing crippling. The enhanced healing factor given him by the tagra diet had its limits, of course. He could easily be killed by damage severe or extensive damage enough, as had happened to many Tel Shai knights through the ages, but so far he seemed to recover quickly. It stung when he breathed. He had suffered cracked ribs before and expected them to seal up shortly. The deep bruising and torn muscles had already faded down to normal for him.
Instantly, he took in his surroundings and found them less than encouraging. He was in a small room that had been stripped of everything except two very bright lamps high on one wall and a table holding an assortment of tools, blades, wires and less recognizable instruments. He himself was tied face up on a sturdy bed that had been stripped down to the mattress. Bane looked around. His wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts with ordinary clothesline, leaving him spread-eagled and vulnerable.
Strangely, he was still fully dressed. This was not too much of a surprise, because the silver daggers sheathed to his forearms repelled and distressed creatures of the night to an unbearable degree. The Dire Wolf shifted his weight. Well, he could feel his pistol had been taken, the enemies had been able to do that much.
As he lifted his head, Gina McDaniel smiled at him. "Not bad. I would have bet money that you were not going to recover at all. You bounce back pretty good." She opened the plain white wooden door to her side and called out, "Hey, y'all, he's ready!"
A few seconds later, the massive bulk of Quilt filled the doorway. "Ah! Excellent. Stretch, Tubs, stand by. You may learn a lot from this."
The Dire Wolf sighed. He had been going through a dozen plans for escape, but none of them seemed likely to work. This was going to be bad, maybe this would be the one situation he would not escape. Seeing Quilt studying his face, Bane kept his best poker face and returned the gaze evenly.
"You shouldn't be so touchy about being called 'Frankenstein,'" he said at least. "You can see how anyone might make the mistake."
Growling deep in his chest, Quilt raised a huge gnarled hand back as if to strike Bane but he caught himself. "Hmmm...." the Monster muttered after a second. "I can't say you're just making matters worse for yourself. They can't get any worse if I can help it."
The Patchwork Zombie loomed up over the table holding his nightmarish tools. A scalpel caught his eye and he held it up to inspect its edge. "You are actually quite a challenge, my boy. I know you have a high tolerance for pain. Your Kumundu training. And the way you heal so rapidly makes it difficult to whittle you away bit by bit." The hideous face leered down at his victim. "But still, you are flesh and blood. You can suffer. Pieces can be removed. When I am done, you will resemble a Thanksgiving turkey ready for the oven." And he burst into hollow, sepulchral laughter that echoed in the small room.
Stretch and Tubs were staring at the floor, seeming completely miserable. By now, their upper canines had lengthened noticeably and their skin looked bloodless but they still apparently had not converted completely. In whatever way Quilt had inflicted the Undead spell upon them, it was slow-acting.
Quilt flourished the scalpel and bent over Bane, then gave a visible wince. He drew back. "Ensalir... worse than even ordinary silver."
"Blessed by the immortal Eldarin themselves," the Dire Wolf agreed. "You're in for an uncomfortable experience working on me, pal."
The Patchwork Zombie snarled. He gestured to Stretch and Tubs. "You two fools, touch his sleeves. Does it bother you?"
The two buddies gingerly patted Bane's forearms. "Nope," said Stretch.
"Don't bother me either," Tubs agreed. "I only wish I had musckles like that."
"Very well." The Monster was irriated by this delay and he swung around toward the door. "You two are still not entirely cursed. Take the daggers from under his sleeves. Open that window and toss them outside. I will be back immediately."
As the door slammed shut with unnecessary force, Tubs and Stretch carefully reached up the sleeves of Bane's jacket and immediately began cutting through the clothesline on his wrists. The Dire Wolf exhaled with sudden excitement. He had not dared to hope this might happen. As soon as his arms were free, he yanked the daggers away and bent forward to slice through the line holding his feet. The door opened again and the distorted hulk came through. Leaping up onto the bed, whirling, the Dire Wolf exploded a spinning back kick that crashed into Quilt's chest and drove the brute over backwards with an impact that knocked a picture off the wall in the corridor.
"Woo-HOO!" yelled Tubs. "Go get him!"
Still moving, Bane pounced across the room as his foe struggled back up and landed with the steel-capped heel of his boot thumping in the center of Quilt's face. The Monster was knocked down again but not really hurt. As Bane closed in, Quilt seized him by the forearms with a grip that would crack solid wood. Bending his wrists before his arms would snap, Bane slashed deeply up both of the Patchwork Zombie's own arms. The Monster howled like the lost soul he was. He flung Bane back across the room as if dropped from a height and the Dire Wolf crashed into the wall ten feet away to knock plaster loose.
"He's getting away!" Stretch yelled.
"Like hell he is," Bane growled and hurtled through the doorway in pursuit, only to get tangled up in the grip of the Undead butler. Lonegan wrapped his stringy arms around the Dire Wolf and brought them both down to the floor in the corridor. Rolling onto his back, Bane kicked with both legs and drove the zombie off of him. They both got back on their feet. Bane was still holding both silver daggers and he flashed them in a figure 8 pattern that opened Lonegan up from throat to navel. With the Undead spell disrupted by the silver, the butler dropped to his knees and fell over on one side. At rest at last, Bane thought but he was already tearing down the hallway toward the front of the house.
Where had Quilt gone? He wouldn't hide, that wasn't his personality, but where would he be lurking to attack? Bane raced through the dining room, which as cleaned up and tidied now by the laboring zombies, then out to the front door just in time to see a pair of red tail lights whip away onto the main highway.
The Dire Wolf hesitated, then came to a halt. This was his own fault for not bringing his own car. By the time he could get back to Stretch and Tubs and commandeer their ancient Buick, Quilt would be miles away and taking any number of side roads. Bane let out a deep shuddering breath. The winter sky was getting brighter to the east. It had been a long night. He slowly returned his daggers to their sheaths and went back into the house. Moving briskly from room to room, senses fully alert, he found no trace of Gina McDaniel. Golden Wolf had either jumped in the getaway car with her boss or she had taken off as soon as she had realized Bane was free.
Well, now I've someone else on my list to track down, he thought. He'd call in a few of his friends and see if they wanted to do some hunting. Quilt and Gina would not vanish into the night and never be punished if he could help it. Moving back to the front room, he realized there was a loose end that he needed to tie up. Going down into the cellar, Bane found the six wretched zombies standing against a dank wall, heads down, not aware of anything until their next summons. He didn't enjoy what he had to do next. Using the daggers, he destroyed the Undead quickly and neatly, as merciful a way of ending their misery as possible.
That left only Stretch and Tubs.
VI.
He found them in the kitchen, sitting at a round table in one corner, with glasses of wine in front of them. Tubs was holding a cold lamb chop and staring at it with heartbreak on his face. Seeing Bane enter, Tubs blurted, "I don't wanna eat this now. Nothing seems good anymore."
Stretch nodded in deep grief as well. "Yeah, me too. I can't get a sip of the wine down. I tried lighting a cigarette but I can't taste it."
The Dire Wolf pulled up a chair between them. "You boys are still changing." After they said nothing, he continued, "I owe you both my life. To be honest, I was getting worried in there. When you guys cut me free, it was the best surprise I've had in years!"
"Aw, we couldn't stand there and let him torture you, Mr Bane. You've been straight with us. You're all right." Tubs wrinkled his forehead in thought. "You know what bothers me, is that goon really the Frankenstein Monster or not?"
"No. No, he's not," Bane said. "I think he's actually worse. Listen, he used a spell to make you Living Vampires, sort of like semi-Undead. Sometimes Living Vampires can move among normal Humans harmlessly, sometimes they're more like regular vampires."
"What about us?" demanded Stretch. "What kind are we? Are you going to stick wooden stakes through our hearts like in the movies?"
Bane slowly stood up. "There's one test to find out. Come on, you two, come outside and sit with me for a minute."
The bitter cold did not bother any of them. Only Bane had plumes of visible breath from his mouth in the frigid air as they dropped down side by side on the porch. Low on the horizon, the sun had risen into full view.
"Stretch, I feel awful funny...."
"Me too. I don't know, I feel like I'm... Tubs, I love you like a brother, you know that, don't you?"
"Same here," Tubs managed to say before he withered into a dry wrinkled bundle that broke apart and fell into pieces. Stretch did the same. It only took a few seconds before their clothes were two loose piles on the cold wooden porch.
Standing up again, the Dire Wolf pulled the front of his sport jacket closed against the chill. In the clear new sunlight, he stood looking at the remnants of two men he had met for the first time less than twelve hours earlier. "I never got to repay you boys for saving me that way," he said out loud to the ashes. "I'm sorry. Thank you again."
1/23/2016
1/11/1995
I.
When Bane finally finished some hated paperwork at seven-fifteen, night had fallen with a vengeance. He got up gratefully from his desk and stretched, then went over to the windows that looked out at the sidewalks of East 38th Street. It was cold and dark, the holidays were over, and nobody was out on the street who didn't have to be.
Jeremy Bane was more restless and unhappy than usual. He was alone in this huge empty ten-story building which had once been alive with the hectic activity and purpose of his team of Tel Shai knights. Maybe Cindy was right. Maybe it was time to start assembling a new team. He felt like he was living in a museum....
As the Dire Wolf gazed sourly out at the street, he watched two odd men hurry past. They were mismatched, with one being tall and thin, the other a short pudgy fellow with a belly like a beach ball. They both wore tan suits, with ties neatly knotted and even matching fedoras which gave them an old-fashioned look. Whatever they were arguing about, it seemed to be a routine they were used to.
Bane saw them slow as they approached the front door of his building. Suddenly he snapped into full awareness. Clients? Business for the DIRE WOLF AGENCY? He hoped so. He turned and rushed from his office, getting out in the hall by the front door just as the doorbell rang. Good. He was so bored he had thought of prowling the bad parts of town that night looking for trouble.
Pressing the intercom, he said, "Come right in," and unlocked the outer street door with a white button. He heard the buzz and click as the two visitors were admitted into the tiny vestibule which held only a bench, a shelf with a lamp and some magazines, and a framed oil portrait of the late Kenneth Dred.
At eye level where he stood, there was a wooden panel which slid aside to reveal a monitor screen and rows of controls. As always, he activated the advanced Trom sensors in the vestibule which scanned any visitors more quickly and thoroughly than a MRI would. As he saw the bizarre readings, Bane's grey eyes narrowed with a predatory gleam. No respiration, bodies at outside air temperature. He zoomed in on one of the skeletal images and saw the sharpened upper canines...
As always, the Dire Wolf was wearing his trademark outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket. As he closed the control panel, he reached up his sleeves and adjusted the matched silver daggers that were sheathed there to be sure they were ready for use. Tonight might be interesting after all. He opened the inner door and said, "What can I do for you gentlemen?"
This close, the signs of their condition were more obvious. Both men were pale, with dark circles under their eyes. Their skin looked dry and unhealthy. The short obese man took off his hat and held it in front of him humbly. "Gosh, I sure hope you can help us, mister," he began in a juvenile voice that didn't match the forty year old face. "We're in an awful jam."
"Quiet, Tubs, let me do the talking," interrupted the tall thin man. He had a neat pencil mustache under a slightly oversized nose. "Mr Bane, I hope? Jeremy Bane, of Dire Wolf fame?"
"That's me," Bane admitted. "And you...?"
"Ah, I'm Donald Flaherty and this is my bud Gene Marino. Everybody calls us Stretch and Tubs, I hope you do the same."
"Fine with me, Stretch. Would you two mind standing right over here? On this rug. You don't feel uncomfortable there? Interesting." Bane folded his arms and gazed thoughtfully at the two visitors. "There's a powerful talisman under the floor that protects against hostile gralic force. So I know that you guys are not here to attack me, at least not right at the moment."
"I don't follow," said Tubs. He turned to his partner in confusion. "What's he talking about, Stretch?"
The Dire Wolf watched the two men warily. "You guys must have just risen. You aren't aware yet. Do you know that you're both vampires?"
II.
Stunned into silence, staring numbly at each other, the two men were brought to straightback chairs in front of the huge desk in Bane's office. Under a hand-painted map of the world as it had been in 1937, the Dire Wolf dropped into his swivel chair and watched them closely. "Suppose you tell me the last thing you remember?"
"All right," Stretch began. His voice sounded more abrasive the more he went on. "It was a blonde that got us in trouble, as always. Tubs met this cute little number somehow and she talked him into hiring us out to help some guy named Patch move his furniture...."
"She is a tomato, you gotta admit!" Tubs put in. "Those eyes! Those lips! That other stuff!"
"Yeah, sure, sure. Anyway, the address was out in Central Jersey, quite a drive. When we got there, we saw the joint was a big old mansion miles from the nearest house. And we didn't see anyone else around, just the blonde. She said we'd have a drink before we got to work."
"That's when everything went... BLACK. I mean, we just woke up an hour ago, lying on the floor like two stiffs. I looked out the window and saw a Monster," Tubs rushed to get it all out.
"A Monster?" asked Bane as casually as if Tubs had mentioned seeing a delivery van go by.
"Yeah. Big ugly brute. Gives you nightmares where you think you wake up but it turns out to be another nightmare, you know? Stretch and I couldn't find the blonde and we didn't want the Monster to see us so we tippie toed out to our Buick and drove here." Tubs shuddered violently, dropping his fedora and having to grunt as he reached to retrieve it.
"And what made you come to me?"
"Aw, we heard of you," Stretch cut in again. "We're native New Yorkers, we know about the Dire Wolf. If anyone can figure out what happened, it'd be you."
"Take your pulses," Bane said.
After half a minute, Tubs screamed, "I ain't got one! I don't got a pulse! Am I dead? I don't FEEL dead."
"Mr Bane," Stretch finally said, "give it to us straight."
"All right. You two are vampires. Not dead, Undead. That blonde lured you into a warren. Last night, two of them drank your blood and tonight you rose." The Dire Wolf shook his head sadly. "Sometimes the transformation takes a little while. Tomorrow night at the latest, the change will be complete. You'll start thirsting for blood yourself.
"You're kidding right, you gotta be kidding, tell me he's kidding Stretch, hey mister are you kidding--"
"Shaddup," Stretch explained. "So, seriously, what's going to happen to us?"
Bane did not answer directly. There was no cure for vampirism that he had ever found which worked. "First things first," he said to distract them. "We go back to that mansion, confront that woman and the err Monster. We find out why they did this. What are they up to?" With that, he stood up and grabbed his long black coat that was hanging from a hook on the back of the office door.
"Uh, are we gonna have to pay you? I know you're a detective and they don't come cheap," Tubs began. "My sister hired a dick to watch her husband and it turned out they became pals and started going bowling together and charging her for the time..."
This time it was Bane who interrupted the chubby little man. "No. I'm doing this as a public service. Let's go, where did you guys leave your car?"
"It's parked one block over," Stretch answered. He buttoned his coat up tighter. "What a night. I was supposed to sit in on a hot poker game later."
As they headed out into the front hall, Tubs suddenly asked, "Hey, am I going to be able to turn into a bat? I wouldn't mind that."
Despite himself, the Dire Wolf smiled. These two so far seemed oblivious to how horrible their condition really was. Or that he was going to have to destroy them before they spread the vampirism further. Aloud, he said, "It takes years to develop that power. Or hypnotism or any of the other weird abilities. What? Is that your car?"
They had stopped in front of a huge 1949 Buick Riviera that was almost high enough to stand up in. It was in prime condition, as if lovingly restored by experts.
"Yeah, I like something solid and reliable," Stretch barked as he went around to the driver's side. Tubs gestured and said, "I don't mind sittin' in the back if youse wanna be up front, Mr Bane."
"Thanks," said the Dire Wolf. He was increasingly puzzled by these two. They seemed out of work or underemployed, since they had agreed to help move furniture for cash. How could they afford a vintage car like this? It did match their old-fashioned suits, with the wide lapels and the trousers hitched up almost to navel height. They seemed to be as much from the late 1940s as this car was.
Maybe there was more to them... and this case... than he had thought at first. As they headed through sparse traffic toward the Lincoln Tunnel, he listened to Stretch explain how property in New Jersey used to be almost free before the Tunnel made commuting from Manhattan convenient. It sounded almost as if he had been there himself. Bane prompted the two of them with a few brief questions. He learned they had been in the Army together, had gone into business after returning to civilian life but had not made the fortune they had expected.
Passing through a residential area surrounding a mall, they went along a back road which ended with a substantial hill. Around the grounds was a waist-high stone fence. Stretch circled the estate and pulled through an open gate that had a bronze plaque PRIVATE PROPERTY- POSTED.
"Here we go again," mumbled Tubs unhappily from the back seat. "And I was so glad to get away from here."
Peering through the windshield at an elegant three story house in fine condition, with many lighted windows and the driveway cleared of snow, Bane reflected wryly that the place was kept better than most of the shambles his cases ended up in. Quietly, he reached behind himself to adjust the holster behind his hip that held his long-barreled .38 Smith & Wesson. In addition to the silver daggers, he carried his usual assortment of gadgets and gimmicks concealed in his clothes but of course his main trust was in his hard-trained body and its fighting skills.
"Okay, stop here," Bane ordered. As Stretch hit the brakes before heading up the driveway, the Dire Wolf opened his door. "I'm going to do a recon, I'll meet you guys in there."
"Wait, what do we say?" Tubs pleaded. "We say 'Ah, sorry we panicked, we're not used to being freakin' VAMPIRES, it never happened to us before?!' "
"That'll work fine," Bane said as he stepped into the darkness and disappeared. In his all-black outfit, with his training in stealth, he seemed to vanish like a magic trick. In an instant, he was over the wall and racing through the murk around to the rear of the house. There was a large shed back there and a dark SUV by a patio. In a window by the back door, a dim glimmer indicated a nightlight.
Taking his time, Bane checked for alarms but couldn't find any. It had been his experience that supernatural bad guys tended to skip regular burglar alarms for some reason. Maybe that they found the idea too mundane. Pressing up against the rear wall of the building, he peeked through the curtains of the dim window and saw a normal enough kitchen. Taking a Trom device from an inner pocket, the Dire Wolf got the back door open and stepped into the house.
Treading silently, moving slowly and smoothly, Bane started searching through the building. There was a walk-in closet and a bathroom, both unremarkable. A narrow door opened to reveal steep wooden steps leading down. By this time, his night vision had adapted and he could see almost as well as if there had been light. Careful not to make the steps creak, the Dire Wolf reached the bottom of the steps and barely breathed in the mildewed air.
Most of the cellar was empty. Some packing crates and luggage and lawn chairs were pushed up against a wall, and there was a furnace with its vent extending up into the ceiling. A water heater stood in one corner. But none of this mattered. Bane's attention was taken up entirely by a half dozen ragged emaciated forms that swayed where they stood. Their heads hung down, and none of them seemed to notice him. The smell of decay was unmistakable.
Zombies. Bane started back up the stairs again.
III.
The most beautiful young woman Stretch and Tubs had seen in a long time regarded them with arms folded across her bust. She seemed deeply amused. Gina McDaniel was no more than twenty-one, with a trim perfect figure in tight slacks and a white silk blouse that buttoned down the front. She had butter-yellow hair cut short in an untidy shag, a freckled cheerleader face with dark blue eyes and a wicked smile with emphasis on wicked.
"And just what happened to you two?" she said as she met them at the foot of the stairs just inside the front door.
"I, uh..well, we... that is..." Tubs ended with wheezing confusion.
"Look sister, something damn strange happened to us. You better start with the explanations," Stretch barked. He had taken off his fedora and crumpled it in one hand as he gestured at her.
"Oh. If you only knew....!" Gina chuckled. "Are you fellows feeling a bit strange? Always cold perhaps? Catch yourself staring at throats perhaps?" She stepped closer. "Has it finally dawned that you've joined our ranks?"
"WHAT? You're a vampire too?" blurted Tubs without thinking.
"Hee hee. Nothing so common." She placed a slender hand on her chest. "I'm that rarity, a voluntary shape-shifter. You haven't heard of Golden Wolf, of course, you two know nothing of the Midnight War."
"I got a real bad feeling about this," Tubs said. "I wish that nice Mr Bane was here right now."
"Bane? JEREMY Bane?" Gina snapped. "How do you know him?"
With that, the Dire Wolf walked quietly around from behind her and stood next to Stretch and Tubs. He had made a quick search of the house in those few minutes and thought he now knew what he was dealing with. "How can I resist a cue like that?"
Between Bane and Gina was an instant fierce tension. She actually crouched slightly and glared at him with a rage that made the beauty slip away from her face. The Dire Wolf met her stare evenly, but he was standing in a relaxed open stance that would allow him to react to an attack from any angle.
"Silver..." she hissed. "You are wearing silver."
"Oh, yes," replied Bane. "I've got a file on you, all right. But I have to say you are just a minor annoyance compared to your boss." He stepped back closer to Stretch and Tubs. "This woman is a werewolf all right, she's left a trail of chewed-up victims all over Tennessee and Kentucky and Western Pennsylvania."
Gina smiled gleefully, as if he had complimented her on a new hair style.
"But," the Dire Wolf repeated, "she's small game compared to her boss. He was the Monster that Tubs saw through the window. Only Samhain comes even close to the amount of killing and suffering that he's caused over the past century. All right.. Where is Quilt?"
"He'll be back soon," Gina answered as she regained her composure. "Would you like to wait for him?"
Jeremy Bane gave a remarkably predatory smile as his answer. His expression was that of a cat crouching just before it pounces.
"I bet," the female shape-shifted scoffed. "Well, as long as the violence isn't going to start until then, we might as well be comfortable. Lonegan! Lonegan, where the hell are you?" she called.
A tall man in evening clothes stepped through a doorway. He was so pale he might have been taken for an albino except his thinning hair was brown and his sunken eyes dark. "Yes.. Miss Gina?"
"How is the dining room?"
"All is ready, Miss Gina.. shall I set another place for our guest?" The most unappealing butler ever watched Bane with only a vague semblance of interest.
"Certainly." The lovely blonde smiled a flash of brilliant teeth that would have won most men over. "Tubs, Stretch, I don't see why you two shouldn't join us." She headed for a pair of tall double doors at the end of the hall, with everyone following. Lonegan lurched ahead of them, grasping the brass doorhandles with bony hands as he ushered them in.
The dining room was immaculate. Around a long polished table, high backed chairs were upholstered with pale yellow silk, which matched the drapes and white gold furnishings. Even the china had thin gold rings around the outer edges of the plates, and the cutlery was white gold. Subdued lighting and fresh cut flowers on a stand added to the favorable impression.
Seating herself not at the head of the table but at the right hand position, Gina motioned for Bane to sit opposite her. Tubs plopped down gracelessly at Bane's side and Stretch pulled out a chair for himself next to Gina, obviously enjoying the view. As they adjusted their napkins, Lonegan entered with a cart stacked with stainless steel heating servers and started filling their plates. He was careful to let the Dire Wolf see they were all being served from the same tureens of soup, the same dish of Au Gratin potatoes, the same pile of lamb chops. Finally, he opened two bottles of red wine but left them on the table and did not fill their glasses.
Having thought it over, Bane decided to eat sparingly and not just refuse as common sense told him to. His decades on a tagra diet had toned his body to the point where it either rejected poison or wasn't affected by it. He could not feel any effects from alcohol at all at this point and was capable of drinking whole bottles of whiskey with no reaction good or bad. The lamb chops were recognizably just lamb chops, not human flesh in disguise or anything like that. As he watched Gina McDaniel dig into her own meal with enthusiasm, he started sampling. His senses couldn't detect anything suspicious.
Glancing over, he was a little surprised to see Tubs and Stretch also eating with gusto. "I didn't expect you boys to still like regular food," he said mildly.
Tubs stopped with his lamp chop still in his hand, and his eyes bugged out. "I... you know, I'm hungry and this is good. I don't feel like drinking blood or anything."
"Me neither," Stretch put in. "Say, some of that wine would be welcome, sister."
With a faint smile, Gina leaned over and started pouring small amounts into everyone's glasses. She gave much more to herself and seemed to think this was hilarious. "You boys should know you were not bitten by another vampire in the usual way. Our boss himself used the Undead spell he extracted from a Red Sect sorcerer years ago."
Bane gave in and said the meal was delicious. "Did Lonegan cook it by himself?"
"Oh yes," Gina replied as she patted her mouth with a fine napkin. "He used to be in some demand as a chef..."
"When he was alive, you mean?" Bane said.
"Yes." The Golden Wolf gave her most angelic smile. "He's been with us a year. Not so long ago, really."
The Dire Wolf sipped his wine, barely enough to get a whiff of the bouquet. "He looks so fresh."
She laughed as naturally as if he had complimented her on her choice of wines. "Yes he does. But I suppose it's just like the living, some age better than others!"
"Stretch, I TOLD you he was a zombie!" Tubs almost yelled. "A werewolf. A zombie. And the two of us, freshman vampires. What kinda meshuga party is this, it's not even Halloween!"
"I think I'm beginning to see what Quilt is up to," Bane said as if to himself. He finished his lamb chop. "I haven't had those in years, I'd forgotten how good they are."
Gina could not restrain her wicked side any longer. "Of course, it's never as good when you don't kill it yourself!"
All heads turned as the door to the dining room slammed open and the horrifying figure of Quilt loomed up in its opening.
IV.
The Monster was dressed in what remained of a black suitcoat and trousers, tattered and ripped, with a white shirt underneath. He was closer to seven feet tall than six, wide enough that a normal man could stand behind him and be hidden. When the Monster entered that room, his head jerked around unevenly. He was hideous, a white-skinned brute with lank black hair on a misshapen skull, a protruding brow ledge over two mismatched eyes with one higher than the other. His nose was a peg set up almost between the eyes. Then he grinned, showing yellowed teeth in a gash of a mouth.
"Well, it's always a treat when old friends meet," Quilt said in a startlingly mellow voice. "Gina dear, have you invited the worst enemy that the Children of the Night have into my home?"
"Not me," Golden Wolf answered promptly. "These clowns escaped somehow and immediately brought Bane here. I was just keeping him occupied until you returned."
The Patchwork Zombie, assembled by Darthan magic from the parts of seven different corpses, lumbered forward. He moved a bit stiffly, as if not quite in control of his limbs. Stopping at the opposite end of the dining table from where everyone was sitting, he lowered himself into the chair which creaked under his weight. "So.. Dire Wolf. I trust the cuisine was adequate?"
"Let me see if I've guessed your scheme this time," Bane said. "You've got a voluntary howler over there, she can look completely normal whenever she wants. Your butler and chef is a zombie that you have kept presentable much longer than usual. And you have made these two into semi-vampires that keep some human traits That's rare but it does happen... there hasn't been a 'living vampire' in a long time."
The hideous grin remained on Quilt's face. His eyes were not only not aligned on the same plane, with one being higher up than the other, but they did not match. The lower eye was a cloudy blue and the other had a brown iris. Their stare was unnerving at best. "Oh, do go on. You have never failed to impress me, Jeremy."
For his part, Bane had subtly pushed his chair back from the table when everyone had been distracted by the Monster's entrance. Now, with his feet planted firmly in front of him, the Dire Wolf was in a better position to move. Meeting Quilt's gaze calmly, Bane said, "You've led a few gangs of ordinary mortal crooks. That never seems to work well for you. So my guess is that you are trying to form a sort of legion of supernaturals who can pass for Human. Zombies and vampires, mostly, I bet, although I think Ghouls in their early stages would work well too. Am I right?"
"Good. Very good." Quilt reached for an empty glass and poured himself some wine from the second bottle. In a conversational tone, he remarked, "I don't know why I bother with this. I don't have any sense of taste or smell. Possibly it's a lingering vestige of memory from whoever owned this brain before me."
Bane took a sip from his own glass. "This whole plan of having creatures who can pass as living people reminds me. I always wanted to ask, why haven't you had plastic surgery to look more normal? Seriously, a few operations would make you less noticeable."
"I've considered it," the Patchwork Zombie answered. "It could be done. But being able to terrify mortals just by one's appearance has its advantages. Well, enough of this." He turned to the two buddies at the end of the table. "Stretch, is it? And your pal Tubs. You were chosen because you have no close family, no girlfriends. You are, how can I put it, two men whose disappearance would hardly be noticed. Perfect for this grand experiment." The Monster put his glass down and folded two white hands that were scarred and misshapen. "And yet, you immediately managed to bring my greatest enemy to my very table..!"
"Uh-oh," gulped Tubs. "I didn't even know we was working for this guy and we got him mad at us."
Stretch hushed him. "Now, look here..."
"Be still, you imbecile!" bellowed Quilt.
"Hey, watch who you're calling names, Frankenstein!" snapped Stretch.
With a roar, the giant Monster rose up, seized the edge of the table in front of him with both hands and flung the entire table up on its end to crash against the wall behind it, pinning Jeremy Bane with murderous force. For once, the Dire Wolf was taken completely off guard. He had been expecting an attack from Lonegan or Gina in wolf form. He was crushed against the wall with an impact that cracked bones and might have easily killed most men.
Striding forward, Quilt pressed the vertical table firmly against the wall, flattening the Dire Wolf further. Then the Monster let the table fall to one side and laughed as he saw his enemy slump limply to the plush carpeting. Plates, food, cutlery and broken glass were everywhere. The linen tablecloth was draped mostly to one side.
"I don't think the big guy likes being called Franken.. you know," whispered Tubs to his partner.
"You killed him!" said Stretch, kicking back his chair and swinging around. If he expected to leave, he changed his mind as he found the butler Lonegan towering over him.
Quilt reached down to seize Bane's feet and hauled the limp form up off the floor effortlessly. "Oh, no, no. Not at all. You do not know this man. He is a Tel Shai knight, they are ridiculously hard to slay. Soon he will revive and heal as though this mishap had not befallen him." Turning his head, the Monster ordered, "Lonegan! Get a few of the lesser zombies from the cellar and have them clean up this debris."
Standing to one side, Gina raised her shoulders and shuddered. She had known her master was strong, but that display had surprised her. "What do you want me to do?"
"Just stand by, my dear," Quilt replied as he held the unconscious Dire Wolf up and examined him suspiciously. "The interrogation will go on for quite a long time, and I may need help. Torture is so tedious."
V.
Hours later, Bane snapped back to awareness. His whole body hurt, particularly his chest and sides, but he felt nothing crippling. The enhanced healing factor given him by the tagra diet had its limits, of course. He could easily be killed by damage severe or extensive damage enough, as had happened to many Tel Shai knights through the ages, but so far he seemed to recover quickly. It stung when he breathed. He had suffered cracked ribs before and expected them to seal up shortly. The deep bruising and torn muscles had already faded down to normal for him.
Instantly, he took in his surroundings and found them less than encouraging. He was in a small room that had been stripped of everything except two very bright lamps high on one wall and a table holding an assortment of tools, blades, wires and less recognizable instruments. He himself was tied face up on a sturdy bed that had been stripped down to the mattress. Bane looked around. His wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts with ordinary clothesline, leaving him spread-eagled and vulnerable.
Strangely, he was still fully dressed. This was not too much of a surprise, because the silver daggers sheathed to his forearms repelled and distressed creatures of the night to an unbearable degree. The Dire Wolf shifted his weight. Well, he could feel his pistol had been taken, the enemies had been able to do that much.
As he lifted his head, Gina McDaniel smiled at him. "Not bad. I would have bet money that you were not going to recover at all. You bounce back pretty good." She opened the plain white wooden door to her side and called out, "Hey, y'all, he's ready!"
A few seconds later, the massive bulk of Quilt filled the doorway. "Ah! Excellent. Stretch, Tubs, stand by. You may learn a lot from this."
The Dire Wolf sighed. He had been going through a dozen plans for escape, but none of them seemed likely to work. This was going to be bad, maybe this would be the one situation he would not escape. Seeing Quilt studying his face, Bane kept his best poker face and returned the gaze evenly.
"You shouldn't be so touchy about being called 'Frankenstein,'" he said at least. "You can see how anyone might make the mistake."
Growling deep in his chest, Quilt raised a huge gnarled hand back as if to strike Bane but he caught himself. "Hmmm...." the Monster muttered after a second. "I can't say you're just making matters worse for yourself. They can't get any worse if I can help it."
The Patchwork Zombie loomed up over the table holding his nightmarish tools. A scalpel caught his eye and he held it up to inspect its edge. "You are actually quite a challenge, my boy. I know you have a high tolerance for pain. Your Kumundu training. And the way you heal so rapidly makes it difficult to whittle you away bit by bit." The hideous face leered down at his victim. "But still, you are flesh and blood. You can suffer. Pieces can be removed. When I am done, you will resemble a Thanksgiving turkey ready for the oven." And he burst into hollow, sepulchral laughter that echoed in the small room.
Stretch and Tubs were staring at the floor, seeming completely miserable. By now, their upper canines had lengthened noticeably and their skin looked bloodless but they still apparently had not converted completely. In whatever way Quilt had inflicted the Undead spell upon them, it was slow-acting.
Quilt flourished the scalpel and bent over Bane, then gave a visible wince. He drew back. "Ensalir... worse than even ordinary silver."
"Blessed by the immortal Eldarin themselves," the Dire Wolf agreed. "You're in for an uncomfortable experience working on me, pal."
The Patchwork Zombie snarled. He gestured to Stretch and Tubs. "You two fools, touch his sleeves. Does it bother you?"
The two buddies gingerly patted Bane's forearms. "Nope," said Stretch.
"Don't bother me either," Tubs agreed. "I only wish I had musckles like that."
"Very well." The Monster was irriated by this delay and he swung around toward the door. "You two are still not entirely cursed. Take the daggers from under his sleeves. Open that window and toss them outside. I will be back immediately."
As the door slammed shut with unnecessary force, Tubs and Stretch carefully reached up the sleeves of Bane's jacket and immediately began cutting through the clothesline on his wrists. The Dire Wolf exhaled with sudden excitement. He had not dared to hope this might happen. As soon as his arms were free, he yanked the daggers away and bent forward to slice through the line holding his feet. The door opened again and the distorted hulk came through. Leaping up onto the bed, whirling, the Dire Wolf exploded a spinning back kick that crashed into Quilt's chest and drove the brute over backwards with an impact that knocked a picture off the wall in the corridor.
"Woo-HOO!" yelled Tubs. "Go get him!"
Still moving, Bane pounced across the room as his foe struggled back up and landed with the steel-capped heel of his boot thumping in the center of Quilt's face. The Monster was knocked down again but not really hurt. As Bane closed in, Quilt seized him by the forearms with a grip that would crack solid wood. Bending his wrists before his arms would snap, Bane slashed deeply up both of the Patchwork Zombie's own arms. The Monster howled like the lost soul he was. He flung Bane back across the room as if dropped from a height and the Dire Wolf crashed into the wall ten feet away to knock plaster loose.
"He's getting away!" Stretch yelled.
"Like hell he is," Bane growled and hurtled through the doorway in pursuit, only to get tangled up in the grip of the Undead butler. Lonegan wrapped his stringy arms around the Dire Wolf and brought them both down to the floor in the corridor. Rolling onto his back, Bane kicked with both legs and drove the zombie off of him. They both got back on their feet. Bane was still holding both silver daggers and he flashed them in a figure 8 pattern that opened Lonegan up from throat to navel. With the Undead spell disrupted by the silver, the butler dropped to his knees and fell over on one side. At rest at last, Bane thought but he was already tearing down the hallway toward the front of the house.
Where had Quilt gone? He wouldn't hide, that wasn't his personality, but where would he be lurking to attack? Bane raced through the dining room, which as cleaned up and tidied now by the laboring zombies, then out to the front door just in time to see a pair of red tail lights whip away onto the main highway.
The Dire Wolf hesitated, then came to a halt. This was his own fault for not bringing his own car. By the time he could get back to Stretch and Tubs and commandeer their ancient Buick, Quilt would be miles away and taking any number of side roads. Bane let out a deep shuddering breath. The winter sky was getting brighter to the east. It had been a long night. He slowly returned his daggers to their sheaths and went back into the house. Moving briskly from room to room, senses fully alert, he found no trace of Gina McDaniel. Golden Wolf had either jumped in the getaway car with her boss or she had taken off as soon as she had realized Bane was free.
Well, now I've someone else on my list to track down, he thought. He'd call in a few of his friends and see if they wanted to do some hunting. Quilt and Gina would not vanish into the night and never be punished if he could help it. Moving back to the front room, he realized there was a loose end that he needed to tie up. Going down into the cellar, Bane found the six wretched zombies standing against a dank wall, heads down, not aware of anything until their next summons. He didn't enjoy what he had to do next. Using the daggers, he destroyed the Undead quickly and neatly, as merciful a way of ending their misery as possible.
That left only Stretch and Tubs.
VI.
He found them in the kitchen, sitting at a round table in one corner, with glasses of wine in front of them. Tubs was holding a cold lamb chop and staring at it with heartbreak on his face. Seeing Bane enter, Tubs blurted, "I don't wanna eat this now. Nothing seems good anymore."
Stretch nodded in deep grief as well. "Yeah, me too. I can't get a sip of the wine down. I tried lighting a cigarette but I can't taste it."
The Dire Wolf pulled up a chair between them. "You boys are still changing." After they said nothing, he continued, "I owe you both my life. To be honest, I was getting worried in there. When you guys cut me free, it was the best surprise I've had in years!"
"Aw, we couldn't stand there and let him torture you, Mr Bane. You've been straight with us. You're all right." Tubs wrinkled his forehead in thought. "You know what bothers me, is that goon really the Frankenstein Monster or not?"
"No. No, he's not," Bane said. "I think he's actually worse. Listen, he used a spell to make you Living Vampires, sort of like semi-Undead. Sometimes Living Vampires can move among normal Humans harmlessly, sometimes they're more like regular vampires."
"What about us?" demanded Stretch. "What kind are we? Are you going to stick wooden stakes through our hearts like in the movies?"
Bane slowly stood up. "There's one test to find out. Come on, you two, come outside and sit with me for a minute."
The bitter cold did not bother any of them. Only Bane had plumes of visible breath from his mouth in the frigid air as they dropped down side by side on the porch. Low on the horizon, the sun had risen into full view.
"Stretch, I feel awful funny...."
"Me too. I don't know, I feel like I'm... Tubs, I love you like a brother, you know that, don't you?"
"Same here," Tubs managed to say before he withered into a dry wrinkled bundle that broke apart and fell into pieces. Stretch did the same. It only took a few seconds before their clothes were two loose piles on the cold wooden porch.
Standing up again, the Dire Wolf pulled the front of his sport jacket closed against the chill. In the clear new sunlight, he stood looking at the remnants of two men he had met for the first time less than twelve hours earlier. "I never got to repay you boys for saving me that way," he said out loud to the ashes. "I'm sorry. Thank you again."
1/23/2016
