Alex Lee Martinez - Gil's All Fright Diner

He returned, grinning like an idiot. "False alarm, babe."

She squinted at his arms. "Are you sure?"

A frown replaced his grin, and he stalked off to the bathroom once again.

Tammy chortled.

Her thoughts turned to the vampire and the werewolf. Their appearance was more than mere coincidence. Had the diner drawn them here? And if so, did they know its secret? And if they did, were they here to usurp her destiny? She'd worked too hard to allow a couple of outsiders to stop her now.

She would send down all the dark powers at her disposal to deal with these interlopers, if necessary. A mortal sacrifice was good. But a supernatural offering often bore more weight with the old gods. And two offerings were all the better. If it came down to that, she'd still sacrifice Chad, too. The old gods were always happy to snap up another soul. Even a soul as shallow and utterly worthless as his.

Besides, what was the point in ushering in a glorious new age if you couldn't have a little fun, too.

Morning approached, and Earl retired to his steamer as Duke reluctantly rose for another day's work. Earl fluffed up his pillow while Duke stretched the kinks out of his shoulders. Being men, their brief conversation turned to an inevitable subject: Tammy.

"She wanted me," Earl remarked. "Poor girl could barely hold herself back."

"Vampire thing?" Duke asked.

Earl glowered. "You saying a hot, young woman couldn't find me attractive if I weren't undead? You always gotta be knocking me down. I tell you what. I got laid plenty when I was still alive."

"Cousins don't count, Earl."

The vampire tossed his pillow in the trunk. "Up yours."

Duke chuckled. "Jeez, you can be such a sensitive puss. I was just funnin' you, Earl."

"Yeah, well those kind'a jokes ain't funny. Every time you make 'era, you're reinforcing negative stereotypes. It's the sign of a reactive mind, y'know. People like you are the reason prejudice is still a problem."

"Give me a break, Earl."

"No. Really." Earl stepped into his trunk but didn't sit down. "You may think it's all harmless, just a little joke, but people like you are the foundation of intolerance. Without you, the dangerous bigots couldn't exist."

Duke closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd heard this particular speech many times before. It was a hazard that came with an "enlightened" traveling companion.

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"I use'ta make jokes like that. I use'ta think they were harmless. But then I learned that they're products of a reactive mind."

"Alright, Earl. I got it. I got it. No more jokes. I'll just be a boring, preachy bastard all the Goddamn time."

"You just don't get it, do you?" Earl sighed.

"Guess not."

The vampire sat in his trunk and redirected the conversation back to its original topic. "She had a helluva ass."

"I didn't notice."

"You'd have to be blind not to notice."

Duke half-smiled. "Yeah. Guess so."

"Nice tits, too."

"Perfect legs."

"And those lips."

"Good neck," Duke added.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nuthin'. Just thought she had a good neck."

"Damn it. There you go again. Just 'cuz I'm a vampire you think I've got me a neck fetish. I'll take a good set of hooters over a great neck any day. I expect that sort'a stereotype from mortals, but you should know better, Duke. You've been watching too many movies. I mean, I like to eat, and I like getting laid. Just because I am what I am, that doesn't mean I like doing both at the same time." He screwed up his face in a queasy glower. "Just the thought makes me sick. Probably get a cramp or sumthin'."

Duke stomped over to the trunk, shoved Earl's head down, and slammed the lid shut.

"Go to sleep, Earl."

Duke had a quick cup of coffee to wake himself up, eager to get to work before the rising sun could bring the desert to a simmer. He also wanted to avoid the midday hours. Werewolves were at their weakest, almost human, around noon. Even almost human, Duke was a formidable mountain of strength and endurance, but there wasn't much sense in making the job harder than need be.

He sipped his breakfast, studying his work so far. The ditch stretched twenty-five feet from the back of the diner's kitchen. There were twenty more feet to the propane tank. He could have dug the whole trench in one day, but he wasn't in a hurry. Earl would take a while to solve the zombie situation. He had plenty of time. He put aside his mug and picked up a rusty shovel.

A couple of hours later, Loretta appeared fresh from her morning nap. Her hair was pinned back in a sloppy bun. She wore jeans barely able to contain the voluminous mass of her hips, thighs, and butt. A flannel shirt, tied at her midriff, exposed her jiggling belly. The three top buttons were undone, allowing a healthy glimpse of her giant breasts. She carried a pitcher of lemonade in one hand, two glasses in the other, and a vaguely suggestive smile on lips thickly coated with bright red lipstick.

Duke put aside his shovel, wiped the sweat from his shirtless chest, and joined her in the shade offered by the diner.

"That's some good work there, Duke." She poured a tall glass and offered it to him.

"Thanks." He took a long drink. He didn't care all that much for lemonade, but he was thirsty enough not to care. "Almost ready to lay the pipe."

She nodded slowly. Her hair sagged further to the right.

He finished off his drink and crunched the ice.

Loretta fished a cube out of her glass. "Hotter than Hades today, ain't it?" She rubbed the ice across her double chin. Droplets ran down her thick neck.

"I've seen hotter."

"I just bet you have," she replied, batting her blue mascara eyelids.

Duke knew where this was heading, and it wasn't someplace he was real interested in going.

"My mamma always used'ta say that days like these were made for sinnin'." She ran the nearly melted cube across her bosoms. It slipped from her fingers and disappeared in the chasm between her immense breasts. "Damn it." She sent her hand in after it. While she fidgeted and shook in search of the lost ice cube, her left bosom came dangerously close to falling out of her shirt. Finally, when spillage seemed almost certain, the cube slid down her belly and landed in the dirt, where it melted instantly. She flashed an embarrassed grin before politely turning around to adjust her uneven breasts. She undid her bun and shook it out. Her chubby chins and the folds of her neck slapped together noisily. Her frazzled, blonde hair spread around her face like a pyramid of dried hay pinned to her head.

"It's been a while since the Good Lord has seen fit to bless me with a man to help around this place."

He avoided looking her in the eyes and instead focused on the dimple of a belly button in her rolling gut. He realized that might give her the wrong impression and glanced to the trench instead.

"You seem to be doing fine."

"I get by." She put her hands on her hips and stepped a little closer. "But there are some jobs only a man can handle."

Their eyes met. He may have been a werewolf, but she was the predator. Loretta wasn't an attractive woman, but she wasn't wholly repulsive. Underneath those many layers of flesh seemed a perfectly nice woman, and on several occasions, when he was drunk enough and horny enough, he'd accepted much worse offers. But he was stone sober today and only a little horny.

It seemed a raw deal. Earl got all the babes. Duke was lucky if he landed a two-hundred-pounder.

She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You've worked up a good sweat here, haven't you? A man shouldn't be out in this kind of heat. I'd feel terrible if anything happened to you. Why don't you come inside for a while?"