Read Terror Town for Free Online

the name was making the rounds before her time. Know what I mean?”
    Dan smiled and said, “Never met a Cameron before.”
    “There’s a first time for everything, I guess. Roger and Will, they’re my cousins.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    Cameron nodded. “My folks have a place right around the corner.”
    “You’re a McMaster?”
    “No sir. English. The McMaster’s are on the other side of the family tree. Coffee?”
    “Beer.”
    “Bud?
    “Corona.”
    “Ah… you’re one of the Corona guys. Roger picked up a case last week, said the summer folk drink it like water.”
    Dan’s smile became a grin. “Tastes good to me.”
    “Me… I’m not picky. Beer is beer.” Cameron opened a bar fridge and lifted a Corona from the rack. She cracked the bottle with an opener she kept in her back pocket and placed the drink on the bar. “You need a lime?”
    “Have you got one?”
    “Nope.”
    “Didn’t think so. You guys never have limes.”
    Cameron smiled.
    She looked wholesome when she smiled, like a girl you could introduce to your mother. Dan figured if she downsized the Gothic look she’d be perfect, if such a thing existed. Not that he hated the way she looked. He didn’t. But still, the dark and mysterious facade didn’t quite fit Cameron’s personality. She seemed more conventional somehow.
    “Tell you what,” Cameron said. “I’ll pick up a few limes the next time I go shopping.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “Honest, I will. I’m always shopping for the bar. One more thing on the grocery list is no big deal.”
    Dan took a drink. Switching the bottle from one hand to the other, he said, “Menu?”
    Cameron reached beneath the counter, snagged a menu, and handed it over. The menu was old and nasty and needed to be thrown away.
    Dan opened it saying, “Some things never change.”
    “Same old menu.”
    “Same old menu.” Dan agreed, wondering how many times he looked at that very one.
    Cameron’s eyes drifted. “Back in a minute.”
    She approached a man and a woman sitting in a booth on the far side of the restaurant. They were in their seventies; the only other customers in the pub. The man was Jay Hopper of Hopper’s Gas. He wore a tweed jacket and smelled like after-shave. The woman was his half-sister Emily. Her hair looked like a white ball of yarn. They were having a bite to eat before Jay worked the evening shift.
    Nicolas Nehalem, still sitting beside Daniel, watched Cameron from the corner of his eye while pursing his lips tight and curling a hand into a fist.
    Impulsively, Dan reached for his pocket. He wanted to check the time on his cell, but remembered that he had no phone. The clock on the wall said it was a quarter to seven. He scanned the restaurant’s menu, knowing what was on it, what was good, and what wasn’t worth eating. Most of the food was greasier that a machine-shop mechanic, which he feared was the reason he liked it.
    Cameron returned from Jay’s table.
    Dan said, “I’ll have a steak sandwich, medium rare.”
    “Fries?”
    “Mashed.”
    “Coming right up.”
    She slid the menu beneath the counter and entered the kitchen.
    Dan watched her hips moving back and forth until she was gone. She was a sexy Goth girl, a rarity for sure. Most Goth girls he knew of looked depressed, irritated, and in need of vitamin D.
    The front door opened and Roger McMaster, owner of The Big Four O, came waltzing in, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He had short curly hair and a carefree smile.
    “Mister McGee,” Roger said, extending his hand. “You’re back!”
    Dan turned towards the man and lifted his bottle. “I’m back.”
    As the two men shook hands, Nicolas Nehalem squeezed his teeth together and knocked his fist against the table. He wanted to smash Roger in the face with his coffee cup and slash Daniel’s throat open with a corkscrew. Those two fuckers were ruining everything. Why the hell did they have to be here now? Why not later? Why not tomorrow? Couldn’t they tell they