Gil's All Fright Diner by A. Lee Martinez

Author:A. Lee Martinez [Martinez, A. Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Published: 2011-09-29T09:46:46+00:00

As the first rays of dawn spread across the desert, the ghouls put an end to their ceaseless raspy chattering and fell silent. Legs flopped around in the air in a vain attempt to run for cover. Detached arms twisted to cover their squinting yellow eyes. They squealed in the ghoulish tongue.

"Bugger, I hate this part."

"Well, no point in complaining," another ghoul replied.

"True, true," a head agreed somewhere from the center of the pile.

"Mooof glu tlak," a jawless head seconded.

"See you gents on the other side."

"Any plans?" the head atop the pile asked.

"Oh, nothing much," the buried ghoul replied. "Just float around in the sullen ether. Wait to be called upon again. Review my performance this go-around."

"I thought you did a marvelous snarl."

The ghoul would have blushed had his dead flesh been able.

"Perhaps, but I found your scampering quite sinister. And I wish I had your talent for hissing."

"You're too kind, but really, anybody can hiss. Now that bit of shrieking you did when the werewolf tore you apart, that was genius."

"Gluf fof wukal."

"You flatter me."

"I hear there's a cult in Paris with several openings. What say we float over there and give it a look-see?"

"I don't know about that. Can't say I particularly care for the French."

"Now, now, we fleshless ones can't afford to be choosy."

"Gluf fug gok ruffil."

"Excellent point, fellows."

"Oh, here it comes."

And then the sun poked its way over the horizon, and the melting began. Green flesh liquefied. Eyes oozed from their sockets. Foaming bubbles boiled and burst in loud, popping splatters. The ghouls shrieked their death rattles. Not that any of it was all that painful for things that were already dead, but they were determined to enjoy their last remaining moments of form with a good screeching contest. The goo of their flesh slid off their bones, settling in a thick green paste beneath skeletal remnants. The bones blackened and cracked. The bare skulls uttered one last groan before crumbling into gray dust. The bone dust and the fleshly muck mixed into a putrid syrup that smelled of rotten apples and fresh cow dung.

Loretta pinched her nose. "Damnation, that's a stench. I thought you said they stank when you burnt 'em."

"They stink when you let 'em melt, too. Just not as much."

Loretta went inside and returned with a length of green hose wrapped under her arm. She screwed it into the faucet in the diner's side.

"I appreciate you boys staying around, but you don't need to do it on my account. I can take care of myself just fine."

"Ain't about you. Whoever sent these things here, sent 'em to kill me and Earl. You, too, but mostly us. That makes it personal."

Loretta turned the faucet handle. The spigot groaned, gurgled, then shuddered to life with a loud grinding clatter. She sprayed the slime. It refused to dilute or even break apart, but she managed to push it from the lot into the tall, yellow grass where it stayed hidden reasonably well. A trail of brackish greenish gray runoff was left behind.

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