Loretta sprinkled croutons on the wilted lettuce. "So somebody's doing this on purpose?"
"Maybe. 'Course, just because they're drawn to the diner that don't necessarily mean someone's telling 'em to. Just means there's some force behind it. It might not be a person at all."
She balanced the tray on one wide fat palm. "What else could it be?"
"Could be lots of things. Disembodied malevolent force like an angry spirit or an earthbound demon. Or the place might be a zombie magnet."
Scowling, she left the kitchen to serve her customers. She returned, scowling still.
"So what can I do about it? Should I get the preacher to exorcise the diner?"
"Couldn't hurt, but I don't think that'll change anything. Whatever you're dealing with is a lot more persistent than I'm used to seeing, what with it being able to conjure up zombies from scratch. Has anything strange ever happened before the corpse trouble?"
"Lotta strange things happen in Rockwood," she replied. "You'll have to be more specific. Strange like what?"
"I don't know. Anything involving the diner or the cemetery that don't seem right."
She slapped her flabby arms across her chest. "Gil Wilson, the last owner of the place, up and disappeared about five years back. Sheriff investigated and didn't find anything odd. Everyone pretty much assumed ol' Gil just got himself an impulse to wander and took off. He was a pretty odd fella. Never quite fit in.
"Anyway, the diner sat abandoned for three years. Finally, Marshall let me fix it up. It's still Gil's place technically, but nobody thinks he's coming back. Do you think his vanishing has sum thin' to do with all this?"
"Wouldn't rule it out just yet."
"And there's that splotch on the floor never goes away."
"It's blood," said Earl.
"Hell's bells, I already knew that. Can't clean up as much blood as I have without learning to spot it. Every time I get rid of it, it comes right back. Don't really know if it's related to all this, but it's a damn nuisance, just the same." She scratched her chins. "Can't think of nuthin' else right now. If you think it might help, I could ask around."
"Couldn't hurt."
Loretta left to check on her customers again. The storeroom door opened, and Duke emerged, his clothes wrinkled and his hair matted. He yawned, scratching his gut in the large region between his bellybutton and crotch.
"Evening, Duke."
Duke grunted. It was the closest he could come to conversation so soon after getting up. Grimacing, eyes half open, he fumbled noisily around the kitchen, slapping together a lopsided assemblage of bread, Spam, Swiss cheese, mayonnaise, and lettuce. He crammed it clumsily in his jaws and bit off a mouthful.
"Did you check out the cemetery?" he asked, wiping crumbs from his chin.
Earl nodded.
Duke popped open a Coke and took a long draught. He smacked his lips and took another bite.
"And?"
"I'm handling it, Duke."
"You talk to the guardian?"
Earl tossed Duke an annoyed glance. " 'Course I talked to the guardian."
"And?"
"And I'm handling it, you dipshit."
The kitchen door swung open. Loretta entered with two teenagers in tow. The boy was tall, athletic, with sandy blonde hair. The girl was a petite Asian in short shorts and a blue tank top.
Loretta performed quick introductions. "Boys, this is Chad and Tammy. These are the boys. They'll be helping me around the diner for a while."
Earl nodded in the teenagers' direction.
Duke packed the rest of his sandwich into his right cheek. Chewing, he took another drink of his soda before handing the half-empty bottle to Earl.
"I'm going back to bed."
"Nice meeting you," Tammy remarked as he shuffled back to the storeroom.
Duke murmured a reply as he departed.
Loretta dropped two hamburger patties on the grill. "Usuals, kids?"
"Yes, ma'am," Chad answered.
Tammy leaned against the counter. She stretched her arms over her head. Her tank top rose to reveal the lower curves of her bra.
Earl discreetly glanced at the ceiling.
"How long you planning on staying, sir?" She flashed a wicked grin. "If you don't mind me asking?"
"Couple of days."
She tossed her long black hair with her hands. Several strands fell across her shoulder. She sucked in a soft breath too light to be heard by mortal ears.
Earl's heart thudded in his chest. Or it would've had it ever thudded anymore. He felt the connection. Vampires had a supernatural sense to the carnal desires of humanity. She was attracted to him. Or, rather, the vampire in him. Not everyone could feel it. But when someone did, they couldn't help but be drawn to him. Guys wanted to be his best friend. Women wanted to jump his bones. Not that they ever really knew why. The attraction was almost always subconscious.
Tammy leaned over, giving him a good view of her cleavage. She traced her hands slowly up and down her tight, superbly proportioned thigh.
Earl was suddenly greatly appreciative of his loose overalls.
"I'll be eighteen in three months," Tammy threw out without prompting.
The comment hung awkwardly in the air alongside the stench of burning grease. Chad moved behind Tammy and looped his arms around her waist. Neither kid took their eyes off Earl.
The vampire smiled politely and nodded.
On the list of undead problems, he'd discovered the jailbait syndrome to be among the most bothersome. For whatever unfathomable reason, teenage girls were most prone to perceiving his undead nature. They were also the least capable of controlling their flood of raging hormones. The burden of self-control rested squarely on his shoulders. Most of the time, awkward teenage flirting made it easy to handle. Zits and braces didn't hurt either.
Tammy put a finger to her ruby lips and smiled.
There were exceptions.
Loretta came to his rescue. "Why don't you kids wait outside. This shouldn't take long."
"Sure, Miss Vernon," Chad replied, only too eager to drag his girlfriend from Earl's presence.
Against his will, Earl couldn't help but notice Tammy's perfectly round soon-to-be-eighteen butt. Her shapely calf was the last thing to disappear. Loretta cleared her throat in a manner that was equal parts disapproving and menacing. Earl decided it was a good time to retreat to the storeroom.
Chad wrapped his arms tightly around Tammy. His squirming tongue probed her ear.
"Quit it, dumbass." She shoved her elbow into his side, and he pulled away. "Go to the other side."
"But, baby—"
She glared, and he gave in, sitting on the opposite side of the booth.
"I don't get it. Why would you want some skinny old guy when you could have this?" He flexed his overdeveloped biceps.
"He's a vampire," she sighed.
Entranced by the sight of his own impressive physique, Chad was only half-listening. "Who? The fat guy?"
"No, the skinny guy," she corrected. "The fat guy's a werewolf."
"How can you tell?"
She considered explaining to him that, as a little girl, she'd discovered she possessed The Sight, the ability to see the supernatural world. The world most people spent their lives denying. Most people wouldn't notice Earl's lack of shadow or Duke's scarred palm. But they were obvious signs to someone who knew to look.
"Hey, baby," he asked, "is my right arm smaller than my left?"
"I don't know."
"I think it is." He glanced from arm to arm. "Goddamn it! I'll be right back, babe. I gotta go to the bathroom and check this out."
He got up and walked away, flapping his arms like a muscle-bound turkey. One day, Tammy consoled herself, she would have a better class of follower. In the meantime, he would have to do. Although, when the time finally came, she was greatly looking forward to sacrificing Chad to her gods. The thought of him strapped to an altar, begging for mercy, amused her for several satisfying minutes.
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