Chapter 6 - The Watch and the Rain
The following afternoon, the weather had worsened. The sky over the city was the color of a wet slate shingle, hanging so low that the tops of the radio towers were lost in the gray fog. Rain hit the roof of the Midnight Diner in a relentless, deafening roar, sounding like millions of tiny pins dropping onto tin.
Inside, the diner was dead.
Sam stood behind the counter, a dry rag in his hand, mindlessly wiping down the polished chrome edge of the pie display. His eyes kept darting to the heavy brass clock mounted on the wall above the kitchen door.
3:42 PM.
His heart was pounding against his ribs with a heavy, rhythmic thud. He hadn't slept a wink the night before. He had kept the silver dollar and the scrap of paper on his nightstand, staring at the five written numbers until the sun came up. Who was that girl? Why had she chosen him? And what did Richard’s mysterious double have to do with a diner that barely cleared two hundred dollars a day?
Across the floor, Richard was leaning against the register, picking at his fingernails with a plastic toothpick. He looked miserable, his eyes bloodshot, his white shirt slightly yellowed at the armpits.
"Why are you staring at the clock, Sam?" Richard snapped without looking up. "You got somewhere to be? Your shift doesn't end till five."
"No, Richard," Sam said softly, forcing his hands to keep wiping the counter. "No place to be."
3:51 PM.
Sam walked over to the front window, leaning against the booth where the girl had sat twenty-four hours earlier. He looked out through the rain-streaked glass at the quiet, empty street. The streetlights were already flickering on, casting long, sickly yellow beams across the wet pavement.
May you like
3:57 PM.
The air in the diner suddenly felt heavy, thick with static electricity. The neon sign above the door hummed louder, its crimson light pulsing like a dying pulse rate.
