A Shot of Whiskey

Apple Pie Life

Chapter One

"Winchester!" I started at the bark of the voice, spinning around to come face to face with very angry eyes. I gulped, staring up at the towering stature of a burly man that I knew as my boss. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, and I fidgeted under his gaze.

"Yes?" I asked meekly, trying to make myself as small as possible, in no way trying to challenge the man that gave me my paycheck.

"You're going to have to stay late again tonight, Puckett's a no-show." His face softened slightly as he noted my shrinking posture, and a wave of relief washed over me as I realized the anger wasn't directed at me. After my initial panic had faded, my mind registered what he had just said.

One of my co-workers hadn't shown up for their shift, and I was going to have to stay late. Again. This had been the third night in a row this had happened to me, and I was getting frustrated. And clearly, so was Mike, my boss. We'd had a lot of people recently who never showed up for their shifts.

It wasn't as though this diner was particularly busy, but it was a common place the locals liked to visit. There wasn't much else in this town. It was kind of why I had chosen to live here about four years ago.

I wasn't exactly cut out for college, so I'd ended up finding some hole in the wall town to stow away to until I had gained my bearings. But the the small town of Lebanon, Kansas had grown on me, and that was what made me decide to take up a permanent residence.

I appreciated the smallness of this town. Aside from being a small tourist attraction for those who wanted to be smack dab in the middle of the United States, there wasn't much else here. The main street that ran through the town held the only source of entertainment, and even then it was just a bar with live performances.

Although it wasn't much, it was normal. And normalcy seemed too hard to come by these days. I was brought out of my stupor by the ringing of a bell, signaling that a table's order was ready.

"Order up!" I heard our chef, Dante, call out from behind the open slot that led directly into the kitchen. I balanced the plates of food onto my tray, and carefully made my way over to the table, offering laughter and bright grins as I gave them their food. By the looks of them, they were tourists. This town had maybe a little under three-hundred people, so non-locals were easy to spot.

"Is there anything else I can-" I started as I finished setting all of their food down, but was abruptly cut off.

"Are y'all seeing this?" I turned my attention to the counter, where one of our regulars, Tanya, sat, pointing up at the only TV in the diner. My eyes followed her finger, and my mouth went dry, heart dropping to my stomach.

The news was on-it was the only thing Mike ever let play-and a breaking news banner flashed across the screen. The familiar news lady came into focus, standing outside what looked to be the field just outside of main street. Images of people flashed across the screen, and with each picture my heart sunk lower and lower.

"Three people, two men and a woman, were found just outside of main street, completely drained of blood. Their throats were torn open, and it looks as though they had all been completely drained of blood." My throat closed up, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Everything in the diner had stopped, everyone's attention now on the screen.

"From what the police are saying, these victims had been here for quite some time. No one knows-" The screen suddenly clicked off, and all eyes turned to Mike, who held the remote in his hand. There was a look in his eyes I couldn't place, though I imagined whatever it was, my eyes were mirroring it.

"We're closing early. Sorry for the inconvenience." There wasn't any sounds of protests as the patrons of the diner got up and left, pale faces having long forgotten about their food. I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding, knots beginning to form in my stomach. I knew them. Dan, Melissa, Joey. Those were all my coworkers, the ones who'd never shown up for their shifts. I swallowed back the bile that had pushed it's way up my throat. They were all dead. Throats ripped open, blood gone. I knew the M.O. all too well. I looked back towards my boss.

"Mike-"

"Go home, Mia. I'll have Dante take you."

"But-" The look he shot me made whatever protest I had die on my lips. I simply nodded. The man clearly wasn't in any mood to argue. Though they hadn't shown it, I couldn't help but imagine their bodies. Pale faces with cold, lifeless eyes staring into nothing, mouth opens in a silent plea to make their tormentor stop.

"Mia?" I was startled from my dark line of thoughts as I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked up, meeting the warm tawny eyes of Dante, a look of concern etched into his face. I forced a smile, reaching up a hand and patting his shoulder.

"I'm alright. Let's just get going," the lightness I tried to keep in my voice fell flat, so I dropped my hand back down at my side. He held up his keys, a gesture that asked if I was ready to go. I nodded, and followed him out back to his bike. We were both silent, and I wordlessly got onto the bike behind him as he started up the engine.

It roared to life, and as soon as I wrapped my arms around him, we were off. Neither one of us wanted to break the silence as we flew down the empty back-roads, open fields surrounding us from either side. They served as a grim reminder to us of the night's events. It was only when we had slowed down to a house at the end of the lane, surrounded by a broken white picket fence that either of us decided to speak.

"Thanks for bringing me home." I said as I stood and swung my leg off the bike. He nodded grimly, offering me a small smile.

"No problem." Another moment of silence passed between us, and I nodded, turning to go.

"Mia?" I turned back.

"Stay safe." And with that, he took off, the roar of his bike fading off into the night. I stared back up at the lonely house that greeted me, the broken fence staring me in the face. I wiggled it slightly, and a piece of it came off into my hands. I cursed. It was like it was sending me a message. I shuddered at a sudden thought.

They were killing my co-workers. Vampires. It had to be. There weren't many other monsters that left such a glaringly obvious calling card as this. And with Vampires, it wasn't long before they would show up, riding in like some knight in shining armor here to save the day. I begrudgingly headed past the miserable fence and up onto my porch, knowing what was to come.

It seemed no matter where I went, the family business always had a way of catching up with me. As I unlocked the door, I cast one last glance back at the pathetic excuse of a picket fence.

So much for that apple pie life.