The Van Hadley Chronicles: Vampire of the Blazing Sun

A black Studebaker sedan gave a final gasp as steam billowed from the seams around the engine hood, steaming the windows for a split second before vanishing into the Arizona air. The one ton oven coasted along the highway dip before slowing and stopping.

Unable to coax another inch, the tall, lanky driver stepped out of the baking compartment into the furnace air of the high desert. He had doffed his chocolate colored trench and rumpled suit jacket miles before. Both piled on the passenger seat, covering a shoulder holster and a Colt 1911 Army pistol. He ran his fingers through is sweat matted brown bushy hair lined with salt and pepper. His dark eyes glared at the steaming spirit of his Studebaker as it continued to rise into the clear blue sky.

Nearly on the horizon, the driver could see the dried out bones of some forgotten town. On the road behind him, he heard the sound of a putting Chevy stepside pickup, more rust-colored and sun bleached blue it once was. The pickup driver had a plump, round, overly large head devoid of hair save a few missed whiskers during shaving. The pickup driver pulled a navy blue handkerchief to swipe the sweat from his scalp before he spoke.
"Tough luck there, mister. Ya almost made it into Dry Rot there. I know a shop there that could fix you right up."

The Studebaker driver approached the cab of the pickup. His face dour and stern but not all together unpleasant. However, as he walked closer, the pickup felt a chill run down his spine and lost his friendly demeanor. But it was too late to just drive off now.

"Say, I have some chain in the back. I could tow ya to that shop I was talkin' about for..." Pickup rubbed his fat chin, "...for, say, four, no, five dollars. Beats walkin' in this heat, mister. Say, I didn't catch yer name, mister. I'm Benny."

"Simon Van Hadley." The tall stranger said with a grim frown.

Simon didn't see much of an option. He had used the last of his water at the New Mexico border. His parched lips, sore muscles and tired bones said no to the prospect of walking into town only to come back out here to retrieve his car.

"Fine." Simon said flatly.

Benny gave a toothy grin, but his beady eyes revealed revulsion even with this monetary windfall. Benny grabbed Simon's money, counted it twice with gleaming eyes. When he opened his wallet, a dark red movie ticket popped out.

"Hey, ya ever see Dracula, Mr. Van Hadley. It's a swell movie." It was Benny's turn to annoy Simon.

While the driver moved into position and connected the two vehicles, Simon moved his pistol and trench coat to the trunk. The pistol would be easy enough to explain compared to the items stashed in the pockets of the dark brown coat.

It was an hour before Benny managed to pull Simon's Studebaker to the 'Last Gasp Gas & Auto". More than a couple of times, Simon suspected Benny of trying to slam the pickup's brakes in hopes of a relieving Simon of a few extra bucks in restitution. But like the driver, the pickup's brakes took their time.

The lean Last Gasp mechanic gave the Studebaker a Cheshire grin. His dirty overalls had the name Luis. The plastic smile never left the Luis's face. Even stepping into Simon's cursed aura of vileness. A fact not lost on Simon that disturbed him even more. The mechanic extended a grease covered hand. Simon shook it, discovering a mixture of oily slickness on coarse callouses. After a quick look under the black auto's hood, the mechanic said it would be at least a couple of weeks to get in the parts for repair. They suggested the Silver Bullet Saloon toward the center of town, where the middle-aged stranger could get a room until the repairs were completed.

"Where's Joe's Diner?" Simon inquired, as he prepared to leave the Last Gasp.

"How do ya know of Joe's Diner?" the Luis replied.