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Chase hurled the last of the Weaversons’ bags into the back of his pick-up, fitting them in the corner on the passenger’s side. Mostly they’d packed clothing, because everything else in their apartment ranging from the tables to the refrigerator was the landlord’s. Furniture-wise, the only thing of any particular value was Dylan’s lava lamp, even if it had a noticeable crack near its rim. No sleep would be lost on Chase if that particular eyesore found its way to the Helensview dump. Though really, how could he really tell the landfill apart from the rest of this damn place?
After loading up the truck, Chase made a final scan of the motel room. Nothing of note seemed forgotten, so he locked up and marched on over to the front office with his room key. Once inside, he tossed the key to the unattended main desk and went on his way.
He climbed into his cabin a few minutes later, firing up his engine before buckling his seatbelt. The clock on the dashboard displayed 8:21. Not a single moving vehicle could be found in either direction, strange given the way the roads were clogged with cars the night before. Even for a town less than half the size of Hedon City, there should’ve been at least some traffic by now.
Where was everyone? Had that old guy demon frightened everyone else off? Were the Weaversons and some random girl named Brittany the only ones who hadn’t fled this backwards burg yet?
And speaking of that girl, how was it that she and Dylan had managed to remain utterly unconcerned about what was going on in town? Hadn’t they heard the chaos last night? If those two had been at the bar, shouldn’t they have at least seen something?
Chase flipped the radio on before putting his truck in reverse. He switched the dial to the local traffic station. If there was an alternate route to Grains Plains that fewer people used, he had to take it. No way would he deal with another motor home threatening to plow him down.
“There is nothing to report at this time of day. You’re listening to KDMN, Helensview’s premiere station for continuous traffic updates as they become available. Good night, everyone.”
At once his gut instinct kicked in and he realized that the pre-recorded message must have been left on all night long. Was anyone at the station even alive at this point?
He switched to another station, this one playing nothing but salsa. A few tunes into it, and Chase discovered the same artist was being played without commercial interruption. Obviously, whatever was going on in town had already impacted the on-air personalities of Helensview’s radio market.
As he pulled to the end of the parking lot, he glanced at the dried crimson splotches dotting the sidewalk and curb. Maybe the blood had come from a different source, like two crows fighting over a scrap of discarded meat. Yeah, that had to be it. Crows. Pa always did blame those flying vermin for just about everything that ever went wrong.
In any case, Chase wished the best for Dylan. He hoped his brother knew precisely what getting involved with the Helensview locals meant. Chase certainly wouldn’t ever come back out this way.
A violent rumbling of his gut reminded him to eat. His appetite had only now returned after everything from the night before. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else without providing his body with much needed nourishment.
On the right-hand side of Main Street, he found a diner, the Eat ‘N’ Grease, a few blocks east of the motor inn. Like the inn, the neon sign out front barely worked at all, the N browning out every few seconds. Underneath the restaurant’s name, a reader board said: In a Hurry? All meals take out! He doubted this meant that patrons couldn’t dine in, but rather that everything on the menu could be carried out in a Styrofoam box.
He pulled off the main road and parked his truck in the slot by the front door. The building’s tinted windows prevented him from scoping out the interior while he sat in his truck. He strode to the main entrance and noticed the sign hanging crooked on the door, indicating that the restaurant was open for business. Making his way inside, he saw a boarded up window and shards of glass not yet swept off the floor.
Nearby, a lone waitress worked the room, squirting the contents from a half-filled bottle of cleanser onto a table. Faint traces of ginger lingered in the woman’s graying hair. Her turquoise uniform toted a cigarette burn on the sleeve, while her apron sported a streak of bacon grease down the middle.
Then Chase looked through the slight gap between the serving area and the kitchen to find the cook on duty, a burly man with flies circling about his armpit area. He had a cigar in his mouth and was reading the local newspaper, whose headline spoke something about last night’s high school baseball game. At one point, a resounding sniff came from the cook. The man wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt before licking his fingers and turning the paper to the next page.
Maybe stopping in here to eat wasn’t such a good idea after all.
The waitress glanced up at Chase. “Wow, looks like I won’t have to shut down the place for the day.”
“Kinda slow today, huh?” Chase pitied the glimmer of relief in the woman’s blue eyes. The only true release for her would be to leave Helensview behind for good and go somewhere safer.
“You’re our first customer of the day,” she uttered in a throaty voice, her lips struggling to stay above the frown line. “And we’ve been open since six. I had to send the opener home already. No one wants to eat out anymore.”
“So I see.”
She went over to the podium straight ahead of Chase and pulled out a menu. “Right this way, please.”
Chase followed her lead as she brought him to a table in the corner, offering a distorted view of Main Street. Gazing out a window, he caught a glimpse of two car-shaped shadows zooming on by, possibly locked in a race.
“Where’s everyone at?”
“Well,” she pulled out her pencil and pad from an apron pocket, “the regulars stopped coming here altogether. We rely on business from the highway, but even that’s thinning out now.”
“Any reason why?”
She sighed, tapping her pencil against the pad. “It’s been going on for about a week or two, give or take, right after that new gas station opened up.”
“Gas station?” Chase blinked at her. “You mean that place that’s been selling the discount gas?”
“The very same.” The waitress rolled her eyes, and then winced. Her nose crinkled upward, seemingly adding even more lines to her face. She leaned against the bench opposite Chase, reaching down to rub her knee while she waited to take his order. “Ever since that place started up, people have been acting really weird.”
“Oh?” Chase couldn’t trace the connection between the cheap gasoline and people’s odd conduct. “Have you stopped by there yet?”
The waitress shook her head. “Don’t have a car. Don’t have a need for gas. Most of the staff here just walks to work.”
Chase peered at the parking lot. Aside from his truck, not a single car sat anywhere near the diner, proving her point. At least the staff here seemed safe from being involved in the accidents littering the highway.
Seeing the eagerness in her eyes for his order, he took the menu she’d been waiting to hand him.
“So what do you recommend from your menu?”
The waitress smiled at him, her blue eyes casting a faded sparkle. “Whatever you’d like.”