3.2 As the World Dies Untold Tales Vol. 2 (6 page)

“
This coming from
the
classic stereotype of
the angry
black
woman
?” Ken batted his eyelashes at her and returned to his poofing of Mrs. Chentworth’s classic Texas bouffant.

Lenore harrumphed from across the room.
“I ain’t angry. I’m grumpy. There is a difference.”

“
You gonna get all sassy at me, snapping your fingers and flipping your weave?” Ken teased.

She glowered. “One, I ain’t sassy. Two, the only one who snaps their fingers around here is you. Three, what I do with my weave is none of your damn business.”

Ken stuck his tongue out at her.

Lenore dismissed him with a look and went back to work.

He
chattered
on
to his customer
as he worked and ignored the TV playing in the background.
He always felt happier when he was working in the shop
. He may have received it as a goodbye gift from his rich ex, but he had decorated to make it his own. The walls were a deep burgundy
and decorated
with lots of swanky artwork depicting hairstyles and fashions over the ages. Fresh flowers were tucked into hand
-
painted vases and soft trip hop music played in the background. He may have gotten stuck in
P
odunk
, N
owhere, but he was doing the best he could to make it work.

When h
e finished with Mrs. Chentworth’s hair,
he
took her check gratefully, waved to her as she walked out the door, tucked the check into the cash register, and burst into tears.

“
W
hat’s wrong?” Lenore asked from across the shop.

“
That bastard is getting married in Canada!”

“
Oh,” Lenore said, and then added mat
t
er
-
of
-
factly, “But he’s no good for you.”

“
I know! I know! But all I wanted was a good husband, a nice home, my own beauty shop and...and...”

“
One out of three ain’t bad,” Lenore reminded him.

Ken sniffled a little and shrugged. “I just thought he was the one.”

Ken was always looking for the one. He had hid that he was gay quite successfully all through his childhood and into his teens until he had fallen madly in love with the student council president. On impulse he had written the boy a love letter. The next day his crush had read it over the school intercom and outed him in the most vicious manner possible. Ken had tried to sneak out of the school, but the jocks had found him, beaten him senseless, and sent him off to the hospital.

When he’d woken up, his father
had been
sitting at his beside with a grim expression on his face. His father
had
stared down at him for a long moment, then said, “Serves you right for being queer.” Standing up, the man who had once given him piggybacks around the backyard while Ken shouted
giddy-up!
had
walked out of the room and
out of
Ken’s life.

When Ken was released from the hospital, he was sent to live with his grandmother in San Antonio. His father still wasn’t talking to him and wouldn’t until he “straightened up.” His mother called him in secret and sometimes sent him
gifts
, but his childhood had ended at seventeen and so had his relationship with his parents.

“
The ‘one’ ain’t going to ditch you for some bitchy queen and run off to Canada and get married,” Lenore chided him. She put one hand on her plump hip and glared at him. “You should know that by now. If they love you, they stay by you.”

Ken wiped a tear away and some of his makeup came off with it. “I know! I know! But I gave up everything I had in Dallas to move here to be with him and he left me for some stupid peroxide blond with a fake orange tan!”

Lenore rolled her eyes. “He has bad taste.”

“
Hey!”

“
I meant with whathisface. Not you. You’re adorable.”

“
Really?”

Lenore frowned and said reluctantly, “Yes, for a melodramatic princess.”

Ken gave her a pout, then shook his head. “I’m not melodramatic. He ripped my heart out. Tore it out and flung it away, then ran after it and stomped on it, then ground it into the dirt and...”

Mr. Cloy pushed open the door and peered in at them. “Y
’a
ll hear what’s going on in Austin?”

Ken set his chin on his fist and shook his head. He tried to tone down his
N
ancy
B
oy inclinations when around the men in town. They were actually quite nice to him and one had even told him that “for a queer boy, you’re okay.”
B
ut he was also a businessman and
he tried not to cause a stir among potential clients.
There were enough stupid rumors about gay people in the world that he did not want anyone painting on him.

“
Nope
. W
hat’s up with Austin?”

“
Got riots there, too. It’s really getting crazy. It’s like all the big cities are just going nuts,” Mr. Cloy said, letting the door slam shut behind him. It was a heavy wood door with a leaded glass window set into it. Thick black velvet curtains with gold thread brocade covered the two big bay windows in the front of the store and kept out the hot sun.

Lenore broke down the box the hair extensions had come in and
sighed
. “Something bad going on. Maybe some bad crack or something.”

Mr. Cloy scratched his chin. “It’s on purpose. I know it. Someone has put something in the air or in the water. You know that old guy on public access is always going on about that stuff.”

Ken knew exactly whom he was talking about. The geezer would come on public access once a week to ramble on about the government creating clones to do their dirty work. Back in the day, Darryl had watched it religiously. Of course, that was before Darryl hit his midlife cris
i
s, sold the house without telling Ken, got himself a bimbo boyfriend, and hightailed it out of town leaving only a note on his pillow telling Ken he had to move out and that the shop was his.

“
Well, I don’t like the news. I don’t like hearing sad stuff or scary stuff, but if something major is going down, I think it has to be those crazy
Muslims
,” Ken decided. “Seriously, they hate us.”

“
Oh, Lord,” Lenore drawled.

“
They do! Because we’re rich and stuff.”

Lenore walked over and folded her arms across her ample bosom. “Okay, so they hate us. But why come and put a bunch of bad stuff in the water so we start eating each other and being all crazy
?
”

“
Because they want to destroy us from within
‘
cause they hate our freedom,” Mr. Cloy told her. “Honey, you’re still young-”

“
Do not honey me!” Lenore snapped. “I know what is going on just as much as you do and they hate us cause we’re over there messing in their business.”

“
Look here, Missy Democrat,” Ken said going all-Republican on her. “If they weren’t messing in our business-”

“
It is the responsibility of the United States of America as the only superpower in the world to police-” Mr. Cloy started up.

“
Oh, and what about China?” Lenore cut in.

It was an old argument between the three of them. Ken was an old school Republican that still adored Reagan. Mr. Cloy was a Neo-Conservative Republican that disagreed completely with Ken’s sexual orientation, yet liked him anyway. Lenore was a hardcore Democrat. And all three loved to debate and argue. It was almost gleeful when they started up.

Ken was about to unleash his best speech on China when the sound of police sirens pierced their conversation. Mr. Cloy, who had been making a point about the moral superiority of the United States, stopped in mid-sentence.

A car outside slammed on
its
brakes and there was a loud screech
as they locked. T
he terrifying sound of two large metal objects slamming together
quickly followed
.

“
Shit,” Mr. Cloy said, his eyes going wide behind his glasses.

Ken darted around the counter and whipped back one of the curtains. Outside were
six
cars
:
two smashed together
, a van, a station wagon,
and
two
police cruisers hemming them in. Steam was billowing out from under the crumpled hood of one of the crashed cars and people were pouring out of the vehicles. Some were shouting, others were crying. A few were covered in blood.

“
Oh shit,” Ken said.

Lenore took one long look at the scene. “It’s here,” she said simply.

3.

Things Going Bad Fast

Lenore took a long hard look at the chaos right outside their door. Two highway patrol cars and the town’s only police car had the
wreck
surrounded. The people pouring out of
the crashed
vehicles were families
with children,
and the cops hesitated on drawing their weapons.

Mr. Cloy opened the door slightly so they could hear what was going on. Ken reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. She knew
the gesture was
not only
to
comfort her, but also him. She
rested
her hand o
n
his fingers and slightly squeezed.

“
Please, we’re just trying to get away!”
A
young
white
woman with brown hair
sobbed
uncontrollably
,
holding her baby tight. “Please! We have to get away from the highway!”

“
Ma’am, calm down,” one of the highway patrol
men
said. His hand lingered near his weapon, but he looked calm. “You were going over a hundred miles per hour.
That
’s not safe.”

“
I
t’s not safe back there!” A
Hispanic
man spoke
up
, his face was bruised and blood was splattered over his shirt. His family was still in their vehicle.
The
mother
leaned
over the back of her seat
trying to
calm their children. “It’s insane on the highway. We had to
get off of it
!”

“
People were hurting each other...ripping each other apart...even...even...” another woman cried out.

“
They were
eating
each other!” An older
white
man shouted out the dramatic words
. H
is face was so red Lenore wondered if he was going to pop a blood
vessel
. “We got the hell out of the city when things started going bad, but out on the highway there was
a
car accident and it slowed all the traffic down. Next thing you know there are these...things...people...they were pulling people out of cars...and...eating them
!
” The man wiped his face with the back of his hand. “They pulled my wife out of the car...
and
I couldn’t...I couldn’t...” He began to sob and silence fell over the road.

The Hispanic man covered in bruises and blood continued the story. “
We
had to drive
up the embankment
to
g
et
off the highway. Then everyone started to try and do it! We were the first ones off, so we
made it to the frontage
and we just floored it
!”

“
Look, we’re hearing about the violence in the cities and a thing or two about the car wrecks on the highways but that doesn’t give you the right to speed down these roads. There are children, pets, old people-” one of the highway patrolman started to say.

“
Then give us a ticket and we’ll leave!” This was from the first woman clutching the baby. “We’ll leave!”

The town’s only policeman, Chief Murphy, pulled up on his belt and said in a
soothing
voice, “Okay, everyone just calm down. I know you folks saw something bad back there, but we need to keep this orderly.”

“
You have no idea what we saw back there
!
” one of the drivers shouted. “You have no idea.”

Mr. Cloy leaned toward Lenore and Ken and whispered. “City folk always think they can just come out here and do what they want.”

“
Did you hear what they were saying?” Lenore asked him incredulously. Mr. Cloy had a one
-
track mind, but he was being ridiculous