The Diner

Chapter: III

It was one hell of a storm; the torrential rain pummelled the car from every direction, the windscreen wipers were losing the battle, and these dark country roads didn't help. I'd have to pull over soon or risk crashing. I wouldn't be driving in the middle of the night in an inundation of rain had it been anyone else who'd asked. Father Ryan hadn't come over with any details on the phone, all he'd said was for me to get there as soon as I could.

I wasn't sure, but his tone sounded urgent, like if I didn't get there in a hurry something dire would happen. And well, in my kind of business if you get a gut feeling like that you act immediately. I had to slow, the car was almost moving at a snails pace; I'd certainly never known rain like this before. No good, I'd have to stop. Pulling the car to the side of the road I turned off the engine.

I took out a cigar from the glove box and lit it; grabbing my mobile phone I keyed in Father Ryan's number. "Damn it!" the strength indicator light blinked a mocking red, no reception.

Taking a deep draw on my cigar I flipped on the radio, some nondescript country music crackled from the speakers, the rain so bad it was interfering with the signal. I smoked the cigar, threw the stub out the window, quickly rolling the window closed after as not to get too drenched. I relaxed and listened to the music with the rain pelting the metal of the car interfering I turned it up slightly, and relaxed. I closed my eyes as Patsy Cline's Crazy began, and it brought back memories of when I first met Father Ryan...

It was seven years ago now, Jooles and I had stopped at a roadside diner. You know the type of joint, a greasy spoon, cheap food with as much beer as you could down by the jug full. Walls plastered with photos of country singers with a big stars and bars confederate flag surrounding a huge mirror back of the counter. We'd just finished eating; Jooles sipped a coffee while I swigged a tall beer, and intermittently puffed on my cigar. The owner slapped on the music, Roy Orbison and Only the Lonely I stubbed out my cigar on the side plate as there was no ashtray. Jooles cast me one of those disapproving looks of hers that makes her look so cute, and had been the first thing that had attracted me to her ten years ago.

Orbison finished; Dolly and Kenny came on the radio with Island in the Stream. Taking Jooles by the hand I helped her from her seat, slipped my arms round her waist, pulled her close, and we began to slow dance. A grey-haired priest was sitting alone in a booth at the far end, he smiled as we danced; the only other person there was the owner, who wasn't paying any mind anyway. Jooles perfume, she's worn my favourite fragrance, teased my nostrils as I held her close, burying my face in her neck as we swayed to the music.

I had my eyes closed, engrossed in the moment when she was forcibly torn from my arms. I saw her fly backwards, the look of utter shock in her eyes. I raced forward only to be knocked aside by a force I could not see; I crashed into the counter. Then he appeared, a man six feet plus, long straggly jet black hair, dressed completely in black, but the clothes looked as if they belonged in the sixteenth century. His skin, grey yet youthful, with defined features. I clambered to my feet as he held Jooles by her auburn hair. She struggled, I charged. The man just swiped his hand without effort, caught me full in the chest and sent me tumbling.

Jooles fought to get free, but she wasn't strong enough. The owner had disappeared, and the priest was nowhere to be seen. To my horror the man or whatever it was leaned into Jooles neck; she screamed. The top of her cream dress grew red with her blood. I again ran and leapt at the thing, grabbed hold of his hair and yanked while punching as hard as I could into his side. My efforts had little effect, it was like slamming my fist into a solid wall, my knuckles split and bled.

I was crying like a helpless baby as I watched in agony as Jooles arms trembled, her beautiful bright green eyes rolled back as this bastard sucked out her life . I kept banging away hoping to force him to break his grip, but he was too strong. I heard Jooles gurgle, and that's when a pair of hands grabbed me, pulled me away and pushed me roughly into one of the seats.

Next thing I see the priest, he mumbles something in a language foreign to me, I later learned he used Latin. The priest held a large cross of silver with its end tapered to a point, and then he buried it right up to the cross bar into the things back. Instantly Jooles dropped to the floor, her dress now crimson. Ignoring what was happening with the thing and the priest I dived to her side and held her. Her body was limp, her breathing almost nonexistent.