One Night at the Pine Lake Motel

by Blu Gilliand

About the Author: Blu Gilliand is the managing editor of Cemetery Dance magazine and Cemetery Dance Online. His short fiction has appeared in magazines and anthologies including Shroud, Dark Discoveries, Shivers VIII, and many more.

Excerpt

Jack Welch paid the man eighteen dollars and walked out the office door, wincing as the buzz of the neon “OPEN” sign drilled into his already aching head. He walked through a parking lot paved in gravel and cigarette butts and got in his car, a 1972 Chevrolet Caprice, four years old and already pushing 200,000 miles. He backed it up and drove down to the end of the Pine Lake Motel, saw the door with the number “3” on it, and parked in front of it. He sat there, gathering the strength to once more unfold his lanky six-foot-four frame from the car. In addition to his throbbing head, his eye was hurting like a sonovabitch and his knees were singing with lightning-strike jolts of agony.

Eventually he opened the door and swung his legs out. It was a warm evening, and he was still sweaty from the night’s work. King County High School had two showers in its gym, and neither of them worked. After his match Jack had air-dried as best he could while he sat in the stale locker room, waiting for the last of the crowd to take off. They’d been rowdy all night, and a bunch of them hung around in the parking lot for a while, drinking beer and bragging about how they’d handle themselves against the boys if they had a chance. As usual, their patience didn’t last, and eventually they took off, presumably to find some bar or some field where they’d drink some more and take their aggressions out on each other.

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