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  Libby’s last vision on earth was of even more of the skull-faced horrors pouring out of the cornfield before the darkness closed back around her forever.

  Chapter Three: Nightfall

  Nightfall - Holly

  “You see, Holly?” Gerald gestured out the window of the Textro’s diner after a flash of lightning. “It’s going to rain. Those idiots at the game are going to get soaked while we can enjoy the weather from in here.”

  “I suppose,” Holly sighed and picked up the menu. She really didn’t feel like going into this. Disagreeing with him would only make him get defensive and loud, and his nasal voice carried enough as it was.

  “You suppose?” The plump redhead waved his hand in exasperation. “Come on, Holly. I know this is your home state and you feel obligated to defend its honor and all, but at least you’re a city girl…this is knuckle dragger territory.”

  Holly kept her face blank and started perusing the menu. As a suburbanite from South Houston, she did qualify as a city girl. But she had still looked forward to spending a long weekend home from the University of Texas in Austin, getting together with her old high school friends and cheering on her Bulldogs against the hated Pirates.

  But it wasn’t to be.

  At the last minute, Gerald had showed an uncharacteristic interest in her origins and insisted on accompanying her on this get together. She had initially been taken aback. The little dilettante seldom liked travelling outside his circle of coffee shop friends, or wandering far from an internet connection. Then a flare of hope had occurred along with the idea of him finally starting to take a healthier interest in her as a person.

  Just maybe her long suffering patience was beginning to get through the wealthy little nerd’s shell of narcissism and awful social skills.

  She should have known better.

  Gerald had demanded they take his BMW as opposed to her old Toyota Scion. That should have been her first clue of trouble brewing.

  Usually he preferred her to drive, especially if they were going to unfamiliar territory for him, but this time insisted he needed to road test “the beamer” since it was fresh back from an overhaul and detailing. But once underway he had fussed about the dust and dirt from driving the three hours over rural highways he assured her only the most desperate of Neanderthals would ever dream of living along. Then he insisted on stopping at a carwash before meeting her friends.

  By that time she had already begun to smell the disaster coming.

  Sure enough, what she had hoped would be an occasion to show off her boyfriend on his best behavior had turned into a debacle.

  He had strutted around in his little suede beret and didn’t miss a chance to flaunt his car, expensive cell phone, and pretty much act a general ass…and all the while probably thinking they were impressed. Then, when they had caravanned to Masonfield to watch the football game, he had checked the weather on the radio and rebelled at the thought he might get caught out on some “grubby, three mule school’s bleachers in the middle of a typhoon.”

  So now her friends were likely huddled under tarps and having a great time at the game, while she sat here listening to Gerald congratulate himself on how smart he was.

  She couldn’t decide if the fact it never occurred to him to consult with her on this decision was more irritating or depressing. She had grown used to it in Austin, and honestly didn’t care since most of the different things Gerald did there had about equal appeal to her. But this was supposed to have been her weekend…

  Her weekend.

  But he was connected, and his father was a lot more connected, and when your major is theater one of the first things you learned was who you knew mattered. And she honestly liked his father. Connor Plimpton was thoughtful, generous, and treated her nicely. He even once said she deserved a medal for her patience with his self-absorbed son. Holly liked to think that one day, with patience and understanding, she would be able to bring out some of Connor’s qualities in Gerald. She knew they had to be in there somewhere.

  It would just take time to reach him.

  Until then, she would console herself with the decent roles she was getting via Connor’s influence in the theater department. Not leading roles, of course, but still enough stage time to build a list of credits for her resume. It was still up to her to master the roles given and do them credit. Holly took care never to forget that and worked hard to take advantage of her opportunities. This helped negate any residual guilt she felt over the advantages she had received, and it gave her a greater sense of control over her own situation…

  …and next time she decided to come visit her old friends, she would just leave Gerald an email after she left.

  He would panic, and suspect she was seeing somebody else, but that was old territory for her. She knew how to let those little tempests blow over. For now, her only wish was to get him back to Austin, to the crowd who knew him, before he caused her any more grief or embarrassment.

  Which was impossible, naturally.

  “Hey Senora!” Gerald waved his little beret at the tall Hispanic waitress as she walked by. “Uno momento, por favor.”

  Holly fought the urge to slide under the table as the young woman stopped and fixed them both with a blank stare. Oh yes, she definitely intended to get out of here as soon as possible. She would just order a drink and start texting goodbyes to her friends at the game. She would see them next time. Getting back to Austin couldn’t come soon enough.

  “Yes, sir?” The waitress pulled out her ordering pad and walked back to their table. She spoke with a controlled courtesy that made Holly wince.

  If Gerald noticed the tone, he gave no indication.

  “Ah yes, my good woman,” he expanded and held up the menu, “I was just perusing your selection of culinary choices and I noticed a certain running theme in the collection. So I was wondering…do you perchance have anything on this menu that isn’t fried, or even worse, deep fried?”

  The waitress blinked as if confused by the question. Then she regarded Gerald with an expression one would favor on a slow child.

  “No sir. This is a truck stop. Everything here is fried. Even the coffee is fried…sometimes.”

  Gerald, perhaps sensing the sarcasm despite his usual lack of social cues, started to look unamused.

  “Oh really. Perhaps a salad?”

  “A salad? You want a salad?”

  “Please.” His voice didn’t have a hint of “please” in it.

  The waitress tapped her finger on her pencil for a few seconds, then favored him with a bright smile.

  “Okay, here’s what we will do. We’ll order you a hamburger, and leave off the meat and bun. Instant salad!”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It’s a solution,” the girl stated primly, putting pencil to her order pad. “Do you want regular or curly fries with your ‘salad’, sir?”

  Holly could sense this would be heading south fast.

  Gerald didn’t have the sense to know when to quit, and she was already picking up on the vibe this waitress had a problem with him. Any second now Gerald would go into a huff and demand to see her boss…and if he employed his usual grace and social skills in that encounter then it would probably result in the two of them getting tossed out and the waitress getting a bonus for having to put up with such an obnoxious idiot.

  “We’ll just both have a slice of that silk pie in the display,” Holly interrupted, “and a couple of cokes.”

  She forced herself not to bite her lip as two pair of eyes settled on her. Gerald glared in obvious dismay at her interruption, and she knew she would be hearing about this later. He hated it when she smoothed things over for him, and almost always took it as some kind of affront to his competence as a man.

  On the other hand, the look of pity the waitress favored on her almost made Holly cringe.

  “Yes, ma’am. Coming right up.” The tall girl snapped the order pad shut and walked smartly away from the table.

  Holly
sighed in relief, and ignored the wounded glower now focused on her from across the table. She would have a little peace while he pouted, then it would be time to patch things up. The best approach would probably be to insist such a squabble would have been beneath him. An appeal to his ego usually had the best rate of success.

  Until then, she could start texting apologies to her friends.

  ###

  Nightfall - Deke

  “Hey, Harley? Is your dad’s boat still parked behind your house?”

  Deke addressed his companion while casting a calculating eye across the restaurant where Stacey Collins poured coffee for a white haired trucker at the bar. She laughed at something the customer said and flashed a smile that seemed to illuminate the entire bar area. His nerves were on high, but oddly enough the pressure now had an almost calming effect as he realized he was committed to taking action.

  “Sure.” Harley stirred sugar into his coffee and looked at him with interest. “Whatcha got in mind?”

  “An alternative to watching Jeopardy with my mom. Let’s find out if the sucker still floats. How does Sunday work for you?”

  “Not bad!” Harley mused, “If you go down in flames tonight, at least we still got something to do.”

  “Thanks for that enthusiastic vote of confidence.”

  “You’re welcome, but make it Wednesday.”

  “Why Wednesday?”

  “Because,” Harley gave a mild look over his coffee at Deke, “Stacey works on Sunday, and her next day off isn’t till Wednesday.”

  “Oh, well I guess that makes se…” He stopped and narrowed his eyes at his bigger friend. “Now how the hell do you know that? How long have you been planning this, anyway?”

  “Son, if you’re going to get out of the webbed-foot bracket and start playing in the bigger leagues, you have to do the simple homework like this. Women expect you to have your shit together.”

  “Molly Harper doesn’t have webbed feet! Sheesh, did she kick your dog or something?”

  “Stay on target, young jedi.” Harley winked and nodded back towards the bar area.

  Deke took a deep breath and glared.

  “Okay, oh wise one, just how do I pull this off without appearing to come out of nowhere with only one thing on my mind.”

  “What are you talking about? She knows you. You went to school with her, and you’ve been coming here just about every week since before she started working here. You know, if this was some other girl, you wouldn’t be coming up with half these problems.”

  “It ain’t that simple.”

  “It is exactly that simple,” Harley took a drink of his coffee than set it back down, “and you need to quit stalling and get your butt over there. The way that skinny trucker at the end of the bar is eyeballing her, he’s going to make a pass at her soon. And if he does, she won’t be in the mood to hear anything on that topic from anybody else for a while.”

  Deke looked over to where his partner indicated. A thin, man with greasy hair and the words “Leaping Larry” printed on the back of his wide, western style belt, stared at Stacey with almost open lust.

  “Aw crap.”

  “On the other hand,” the larger young man continued, “he’s got to be making her uncomfortable, leering at her like that, so you would be a pleasant change if you act now.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Deke was up and moving before he had time to consider any further contingencies.

  As much as Harley could irritate him on topics like this, he never doubted for one second his friend knew exactly what he was talking about. He secretly thanked heaven he had the other man’s advice to rely on. Of course, it would be a lot easier if he also had Harley’s looks…and his muscles…and his easy manner…and his almost scary ability to be so much where he was at any given moment that the right move always seemed obvious. Hell, if he had all those things going for him he would be in a good mood all the time too.

  Focus, stupid! You only get one shot at this!

  “Hi, Deke! What’s up?”

  Stacey’s smile lit up her elfish face as he reached the bar, and Deke’s stomach threatened to turn into water. Her blue eyes sparkled with a cheerful life that infected the world around her, reminding the young man it wasn’t only her looks putting her in a league of her own. She possessed a bright disposition coupled with an exuberant blend of mischievousness and honest warmth most men could only dream of finding in one girl.

  Men with a lot more going on for them than he did.

  Stop it, Deke! Stop it! Just talk to her!

  “Hey, Stacey,” Deke shrugged and slid into a nearby stool. “I’m just hanging out, drinking coffee and talking to Harley.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  He found himself staring stupidly at the empty bar in front of him and realized he had left his coffee cup back at his booth.

  A quick glance back at his table showed his cup sitting where he had left it. It also revealed Harley had left the table as well, and had just seated himself by “Leaping Larry” and engaged him in conversation. It looked like his friend intended on running interference to make sure his attempt at asking Stacey out wouldn’t be interrupted.

  Okay, Harley. I take back every mean thing I ever thought about you. You’re alright.

  Then he also realized the other result of Harley’s intervention.

  The lack of a cup meant Deke hadn’t come over here to get a refill, and his friend’s simultaneous move made it look like they had a coordinated plan. His intentions couldn’t have been more painfully obvious if he had been wearing a sign around his neck with large block letters reading “Get ready, Stacy! Here it comes!”

  He fought the urge to swallow and returned his gaze to the girl in front of him. She still smiled and looked at him inquisitively.

  Well, she ain’t running for the back, and she hasn’t already started laughing, so I guess that’s something. At least she’s going to be polite about this.

  “Yeah,” he sort of half laughed, “Okay, I guess I actually wanted to ask you something.”

  “Sure.” She tilted her head with a curious glint in her eye. “What is it, Deke?”

  Okay, you can do this.

  “Well,” he gathered his will and pressed onward, “Harley and I are going out to the lake next week to try out his old boat. I was just wondering…if…if you would like to come hang out with us at the lake.”

  He sincerely hoped that hadn’t sounded one tenth as lame in her ears as it did in his.

  “Hmmm…” Stacey stroked her chin and glanced back down the bar where Harley and Leaping Larry talked. They had a napkin on the bar in front of them, and Larry was pontificating about something he had drawn on it. The girl studied the pair for a couple of seconds before returning her attention to Deke.

  “Soooo….” she fixed him with an evaluating eye, “we’re talking about just you, me, and Harley out at the lake?”

  Doh! Deke, you idiot! What girl is going to feel comfortable with a setup like that! Think fast, you moron!

  “Oh! Harley would bring somebody too…of course. Heck, I should have said that up front…I mean…sure…it would be….” His mouth had already started trying to salvage the situation while the rest of him still tried to catch up. “That is…if it’s cool with you.”

  He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the job it was doing.

  “Ah,” Stacey rested her elbows on the bar and nodded in satisfaction. “So we’re talking a double date, then.”

  Deke noted with disbelieving hope the idea seemed to appeal to her. Was he actually going to pull this off?

  “Uh, yeah.” At this point, the only thing he could think of was to just go with it. “Exactly!”

  She considered him with a half smile for a second or two longer, then it spread to its full brightness.

  Holy shit! She’s going to say yes!

  “That sounds like it could be fun...”

  It was all he could do to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. Stacey Colli
ns…yes, that Stacey Collins…was about to agree to go out on a date with him.

  “…so who is Harley’s date?”

  Once again the mental train lurched to a stop, and Deke spent a frozen moment staring at the girl.

  “Huh?”

  “The other girl?

  “Oh…uh…Harley’s date?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh…uh…”

  Stacey rested her chin in her hand and raised her eyebrows at him.

  “Doesn’t Harley have a date?”

  “Well…actually…not yet.”

  “Hmmm…” She looked down the bar to where his friend still had the trucker occupied. “I wouldn’t have thought Harley to be the type to have trouble finding a date.”

  “Oh…well…” He thought fast. “He’s only been back from the army a few months. He’s just been kind of settling in. You know how it is.”

  “Ah, I suppose that makes sense.”

  Deke held his breath, trying to figure out if Stacey was buying any of this and whether he had a date with her or not. She continued to look down the bar, apparently deep in thought. Then a certain calculating gleam came into her eyes.

  “Okay, Deke.” She turned back to him with a warm smile. “A day at the lake sounds like fun. But we do need to get poor Harley a date so he won’t feel weird…and I’ll have another girl to talk to.”

  “We?” Deke queried, now torn between joy over Stacey’s acceptance and dismay over the twist of events it led to.

  “Yep. But that’s okay. I know just the girl.”

  “You do?”

  “Uh huh. I’m thinking Marisa.” Stacey looked inordinately pleased with herself about something.

  “Marisa? That Marisa?” He gestured over to where the other waitress was bringing Doc Sutherland another coffee.

  Marisa must have heard something because she looked back over at him sharply. Stacey flashed the other waitress a brilliant smile and wriggled her fingers at her, causing the raven haired beauty to give her a puzzled look before going back towards the kitchen.