Dead End Diner: Book one Read online

  Contents

  Chapter one.

  Chapter two.

  Chapter three.

  Chapter four.

  Chapter five.

  Chapter six.

  Chapter seven.

  Chapter eight.

  Chapter nine.

  Chapter ten.

  Chapter eleven.

  Chapter twelve.

  Chapter thirteen.

  Chapter fourteen.

  Chapter fifteen.

  Chapter sixteen.

  Chapter seventeen.

  Chapter eighteen.

  Chapter nineteen.

  Chapter twenty.

  Chapter twenty-one.

  Chapter twenty-two.

  Chapter twenty-three.

  DEAD END DINER

  Book one

  Bea Biddle

  One.

  "...And it's not that I don't like chocolate. I love chocolate! It's literally one of the best things in this world. All I'm saying is, I don't like chocolate chips in my ice cream. That's all. I love ice cream, even a flavor as plain, old, boring vanilla. And I love chocolate almost more than life itself. But I like the two separate, you know?"

  "Karen?"

  "I mean, I like cheese, I like snickers, but would I ever have a cheese wrapped snickers? No, I don't believe I would."

  "Karen?"

  "I don't understand why chocolate chips are so popular. And chocolate sprinkles. Why does everyone just assume you like chocolate sprinkles just because you love chocolate? Well, I do actually really like chocolate sprinkles. But they're on top of things, not in things, so I don't think they really count as being in the chocolate chip category."

  "Karen!"

  "Yeah?" Karen pressed the phone to her ear, not because she couldn't hear her mother on the other end, but because any kind of warmth in the chilly night was very much welcome. She put the phone to the other ear and blew on her free hand, she had walked out of the door without gloves on that morning and she was regretting it. Around her, the paths were shiny with freshly fallen rain that perfectly reflected the large moon above her. When did that happen? She could have sworn the sky was orange and the sun just setting a minute ago.

  "Karen, maybe it's time for you to find some actual friends to talk to about these, obviously very interesting, observations you seem to enjoy going on and on about?"

  Karen snorted half-heartedly. "Meh, people."

  She could feel her mother sigh on the other end, then changed the subject. "How did the job hunt go today?"

  "I looked. I did look. None really seemed that interesting." That was a blatant lie. She had been job hunting all day, walking all over the city, handing out her resumes, trying to sell herself to potential employers as best she could. The last place she had almost begged. No one was hiring, no one wanted her.

  "You have to stop being so picky. Just pick one."

  "Yes, yes I know." Karen stopped in a puddle, she stomped a few times and the water splashed over her black boots. She had walked too much that day, in heels, she wasn't used to that, and her feet hurt. She longed to get back home and out of her nice black pants and ironed shirt, and into something comfortable. Like her old sweatpants and that Mickey Mouse t-shirt that was way too big. She could practically hear the clothes calling for her.

  "Or maybe you should take this time to do something productive?" her mother suggested innocently.

  "What do you-?"

  "Grandchildren." The word was pushed out of her mother's lips so fast Karen knew she had only been waiting for an opening. But Karen just rolled her eyes. "Don't roll your eyes." How did she know? Karen had no chance to open her mouth and argue before her mother started talking again. "I had your sister when I was twenty, think about it." And Karen often did. She often thought about how she absolutely was not going to end up heavily pregnant on her wedding photo just like her mother.

  "Different times now, mom." Karen sighed. She had just turned twenty-one and was nowhere near ready for kids.

  But her mother was relentless. "You and Colin have been together for a long time. He has a good job now, a baby is just the thing you two lovebirds need." It most definitely was not. Colin was fresh out of college, a business major, but the only job he could find was as a used car salesman. Minimum wage. Still better than Karen's no wage. She had dropped out of college first year. No matter how hard she tried she could never really get the hang of college life, she just couldn't fit in, and she had hated every second of it. Instead, she worked at a local minimart, not far from their apartment. The minimart closed down, it couldn't handle the competition from K-mart down the street, and she was out of a job. “I don't know what your sister is waiting for,” her mother continued. “They're married, for goodness sake.”

  Karen rolled her eyes again. "Mom, I have to go, I think the line is cracking up."

  "I want grandchildren, Karen, I'm not getting any younger."

  "Mom? Mom, I can't hear you. Mom?" Karen hung up. She had lied, of course, her mother was coming through clearly. Too clearly. She put the phone back in her bag and wrapped her arms around herself. It was cold when she had walked out of the supermarket, and into the crisp evening air, but she hadn't expected it to turn this chilly. She could see her own breath in the air and the moon above had a frosty blue ring around it.

  She looked around, seeking a source of light in the impending night, searching the sky above her, but New York's glittering skyline only added to the shadows she was trying to avoid. Why had she decided to take a short cut through Central Park? And why did fall evenings have to be so dark? She shuddered, rubbed her arms through her jacket, and started walking faster. Instead of sticking to the path, she took another shortcut and ran across the grass. Only the grass was slippery and wet, and her boot decided to try to outrun her on its own. She ended up sliding across the grass on her ass. Not a proud moment. Right, never run across the grass in heels, she mentally noted and growled at herself as she got up and wiped her sore butt, all grass stained and wet.

  Rustling in a nearby bush made her jump. For a split second, she panicked, but quickly got a hold of herself. Don't be stupid, Karen, it's just a squirrel. She continued to half walk, half slide, across the grass. The long shadows from the trees had started to catch up to her. A light flickered above her, streetlights were turning on. "Took your time," she told them. She felt a lot safer when the paths were lit at least.

  An orange glow now bathed the wet trees and grass, making them sparkle, it was almost beautiful, and she found herself admiring her surroundings. But then another bush rustled, this time closer to her, making her jump. She rolled her eyes and mentally scolded herself again. There was absolutely nothing to be afraid of, it was probably the wind anyway. She walked along the path, came across a bench and sat down. She needed to catch her breath, not from the walk, but from the day she had had. She had to build up the strength to go home and announce her failure. Again.

  She rummaged through her bag for any kind of comfort. A chocolate bar she could have forgotten? Maybe an apple? A stupid breath mint? Anything! But all she could get her hands on was a bunch of her resumes. She pulled them out and skimmed through the pages, silently cursing everywhere she had been that day. Some places hadn't bothered even pretending to take it. Glancing at the large trash can next to the bench, she snorted at the stack and contemplating throwing them in. Deciding against it, she dumped the offending pieces of paper unceremoniously on her lap. Rubbing her fingers together, she breathed on them to keep them warm. She should probably start walking again, it was too cold to just sit there.

  Another rustling in the bush next to her caught her off guard and she accidentally knocked her bag to the ground. "Oh, will you just fuck off, you stupid s
quirrel!" she yelled at the bush. She stood, clutching the resumes, crumbling the papers in her hand. It was at that moment the rain started pouring down again. Now she wasn't just miserable, she was wet and miserable.

  But it was not a squirrel that answered her. A low growl made Karen take a few steps back, ignoring her bag on the ground. A dog? She looked around for any potential owner. None. And when she looked back at the bush, what appeared in front of her was no dog. And definitely no squirrel.

  Backlit by the soft streetlight, a large beast rose from the bushes. Karen froze, her breath caught in her throat. She had no idea what she was looking at, no clue. She could make out no features of this hulking monster other than small, beady eyes that reflected the moonlight, making them shine. Ferocious and wild, they focused on her, narrowing with a snort. She wanted to scream, to run, to do anything other than face this monstrosity, but she was rooted to the spot, panic clawing up her spine. With a heavy thud, it took one step towards her, stretching to its full height. Moving further into the light. Karen gasped at the sight. Fangs. Large fangs. In a large mouth, hanging open in a twisted snarl. Pointy ears twitched, fur rustled in the rain, its heavy breath misty in the chill.

  Wolf, her brain screamed at her, Wolf! But it couldn't be. It was the size of a horse. Standing on its hind legs. There were no wolves in New York City. There were no wolves! She quickly decided any explanation, any reasoning for its presence, was pointless. Who cared what it was? All she cared about was getting away from it. If only her damn body would cooperate.

  The wolf rolled its massive shoulders, threw its head back, the wide, gray chest expanded before it let out a loud, bone-chilling howl that made Karen cower and jolt. And slip on the wet grass. She fell. Her shoulder slammed to the ground. No. No this wasn't happening. She had to escape. Scrambling to her feet, too panicked to scream, she attempted to run.

  Two shaky steps, that was all she managed. In a flash the wolf had pounced over the bench, running straight for her. On all fours, its paws hit the ground like thunder. It was ahead of her, circling her, making her stop dead in her tracks. Snarling and snapping its giant jaws at her legs, she jumped back. Fangs. Such large fangs. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Her body shook with fear, her heart was beating so loudly she could barely hear the beast growling. But she could feel it, she could see the fur rising down its back, she saw the bloodlust in its eyes as it continued to circle her closer and closer.

  She moved back again, forced by the monster. It followed, advancing on her. It had her trapped and it knew it, taking its time. She needed a weapon, any kind of weapon, any at all. She had none. All she had to protect herself was the damn stack of resumes still in her hand. She rolled them up and clutched them to her chest. I'm going to die, she thought, I'm actually going to die now. And for a fleeting moment, she was thinking how very fitting it was, that she was clutching pages that summed up her very uninteresting and uneventful life, as it was about to end.

  The wolf snarled, spittle landed on her pants. The enormous jaws snapped again, a low growl from it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It pounced. Fangs and claws coming for her.

  Her reaction astonished her. Without thinking, she instinctively lifted her hand in the last second and slammed the rolled-up stack of papers on the side of the huge head. Time stood still. The wolf snorted in surprise, she could feel the hot air from its nostrils on her wet face. And more spit. The low growl returned, the beast opened its mouth once more, about to howl? About to bite? She didn't know, she didn't give it a chance. She raised the rolled-up resumes again and whacked it over the wide snout, as hard as she could. Then again on the side of its massive head.

  It was taken by surprise the first time. Now it only made it angrier and Karen stumbled backward as it snorted and growled. Out of the corner of her eye, she searched the dark surroundings for help, any kind of help. And for a millisecond, she imagined a person standing under a tree, across the open lawn, but then it was gone. She was alone in the park.

  With that- that thing that jumped at her! The enormous fangs that came straight for her. She shrieked and awkwardly stumbled out of the way, falling to the ground once more. Her body slid on the wet grass, her jaw scraped against the ground. Pure luck made it miss her by inches. Clumsily, she flipped over onto her back, ignoring the sharp pain on her chest where she had landed on a pointy rock. She had no time. The beast turned as soon as its feet hit the ground, charging again. She had to do something. Anything.

  She kicked it. She kicked it right on the horrible snout. It gave a sharp huff and she ground her teeth as she kicked it again and again. The rain ran down her back, mixing with her sweat. Her eyes began to water.

  Her boot had done damage. The wolf was snorting blood onto the ground. It roared angrily. She tried standing, tried again to run away. But it was no use. Swiping at her with its giant paw, it struck her in the stomach. With a short, strangled scream she flew backward, slamming into the trashcan, knocking it over, taking her with it. Trash spilled onto the ground.

  Karen groaned and sat up. Something warm ran down her hand. Blood? She didn't know where it came from and she didn't care. Her attention was firmly on the beast. It stepped closer, back arched with thick, bristly fur that shook with every furious snort and growl. Its warm breath visible in the air, blood mixed with saliva dripping down its gaping jaw. She held her breath. It lifted itself off the ground, standing back on its hind legs. Rolling its shoulders again, the impressive width of it exposed as its arms flexed. Claws and fangs glinted in the night. It let out another long, piercing howl that made Karen wince.

  She was no match for it. She knew it. The beast knew it. She was done for. The wolf eyed her hungrily, licking its lips. It shook its massive head, water, blood, and saliva splattered, pointy ears twitched.

  She felt it when it came back down on all fours, the ground shook with the impact. It was going to attack again. In a last desperate move, she kicked the trashcan. As hard as she could. It hurdled towards the wolf, rolling straight for it, catching it in surprise mid-leap. It stumbled. It actually stumbled! Trying to regain control of four massive legs on a ground that moved beneath it.

  Karen jumped up, less elegantly than she wanted, with the rolled-up papers still in a clamp-like grip. With the wolf unsure of what was happening, she hit it again. In a raw blend of panic and anger and despair, she slammed the wet, soggy papers against the side of its face, again and again. It roared, spluttering blood and spit at her. Pounding its heavy paw in front of her. Sharp claws dug into the dirt, tearing the lawn apart.

  “Oh no you fucking don't!" she screamed. With blind determination, she hammered her foot down on its paw, attempting to crush it with her heel, wishing she had worn stilettos instead of her chunky boots. A stray reminder to buy some flashed in her brain but she pushed it aside. She stomped again, putting, if possible, even more weight on her foot as she continued to hit and slap the wolf with her papers. Blood oozed from the paw. Hand? She gasped, the paw looked almost like a human hand. Gray and furry, impossibly long, sharp claws, yet hand shaped.

  But she couldn't stop. She hammered her heel down on its hand once again. A loud crack. The wolf's strained whimper and howl confirmed it. She had broken it. It growled and spat at her, snarled and panted heavily as it jumped back from her. Cradling the hand to its wide furry chest, it looked almost human as it stood back on its hind legs once more. The tail swishing dangerously.

  Karen had no more strength left in her body. Her resumes were falling apart, her heel had broken, she was in pain and bleeding from somewhere or the other. But she could not back down. She stomped on the ground, one more time, raised her soggy papers in the air. She screamed at the beast for as long and as loud as she could. The wolf snorted at her, more blood at her feet.

  Then it charged. Closing her eyes tightly, she fully expected never to open them again. But it didn't come at her. It whooshed past her so close she could smell the strong scent of wet dog and feel the ro
ugh fur brush her frame. She opened her eyes just in time to see it retreat into the bushes. Leaves rustled, branches broke and snapped. It was running away. It was actually running away!

  And then nothing. Silence. Except for the heavy rain and her even heavier panting. The blood on the ground was the only thing left of the horrible beast. And even that was washed away by the rain almost instantly.

  Karen stood dumbfounded. "What the fuck just happened?" she asked herself, trying to catch her breath. She needed to get away, she needed to get home before that thing came back with friends. She could see the park gates close by. If she could just make it there, she'd be on the streets. She grabbed her bag and limped her way down the path towards the exit.

  Her black hair, had come loose and slapped her in the face as she ran. Her wet bag whacked against her legs making her wobble. She was hurt and confused, but she pressed on running as fast as she could. She burst out of the gate, overwhelmed by relief and triumph. Looking like a mad woman she ran right into the street. Bright lights blinded her, car horns blared, and someone yelled at her, "Hey, get off the road, dipshit!"

  Stumbling back onto the sidewalk, wanting to apologize but couldn't find the energy, she leaned on her knees in order to catch her breath. She wanted to vomit. Her back was killing her, her shirtsleeve was torn and underneath it was a deep cut on her arm, it left a bloody handprint on her pants. It stung. She rose up slowly, coughed, and tried making her heartbeat return to normal.

  Only then did she notice the woman staring at her, peeking out at her from under a large black umbrella. It was impossible to make her out in the darkness, but Karen had the strangest feeling the woman was grinning widely at her. When she stepped a little closer, the streetlight finally reaching her, Karen saw that she was right. Her hair piled high on her head, the lavender trench coat wrapped tightly around her, and her laced up Victorian boots, all made her appear straight out of a time long passed. The woman approached Karen and nodded in greeting. "Good evening.” Her age was indeterminable, her face was youthful yet mature, her hair was graying yet her expression playful.