Short Story Part 2

As requested  by the 'Anonymous' reader, the second installment in this short story.

I know I saw something, a figure, in the mist but now the mist is gone and there is no body. What the Hell happened? He thought while rubbing his shaved head in wonder.

Michael saw lights in the distance. I have driven this stretch of road many times and never saw a town. I guess I will drive there and see if anyone can tell me where I am, the terrain does not look familiar to me but it is dark. He thought to himself as he looked toward the signs of civilization in the distance and then looking at the spot where he thought he struck someone with his car. Michael got into his car and drove toward the lights in the distance. He was distracted by thoughts of the ‘accident’ and what had happened or not happened with the mist and the image. I can only chalk it up to shadow and light tricks he thought as he pulled into the driveway of a 1950’s style diner.

Michael walked into the diner and looked around the quaint space and saw the host or hostess and some customers eating. This is strange I cannot make out specific genders and they all have shaved heads and wearing the same style and color of clothes. I wonder if this is some kind of cult or religious group. All about the same in the end really, just different routes with the same goal in mind and similar beliefs, for the most part. Wait, there is a man sitting in a booth that does not fit in with this crowd, he has hair and different clothes than the others.

Michael made his way to the counter where he was greeted with a smile on what looked like a feminine featured face.

“What’s your number?” The clearly feminine voice asked from behind the counter.

Michael smiled and said “My number? That is awfully forward don’t you think? Maybe we should get to know one another first.”

“Why? Don’t you know your number?” she asked with a confused look on her face.

“I am not from the area and just stopped in thinking I could clear my head and get a slice of pie.” Michael was pulling his hands down his face in an attempt to gain some clarity and stimulate blood circulation when he saw the nape of the waitress’s neck. In black ink there was a number 7. Michael looked around at some of the other patrons in the diner and from certain angles he noticed other numbers in black ink. Maybe this is what she meant when she asked me ‘What’s your number?’ Michael caught a glimpse of the man in the booth waving him over. Michael nodded and gave the man a gesture of ‘in a minute’ to which the man acknowledged and waited.

The waitress returned with Michael’s pie “We only have the one flavor of pie, apple” she said and turned to walk away.

“Who is that man in the booth?” Michael asked before the waitress could leave.

“He goes by the name of Dev” she said with a look that said have you lost your mind everyone knows him.

Michael got up to leave the counter with his pie and headed toward the booth where Dev was sitting when he heard a small gasp come from the waitress behind him. He turned in time to see a brief look of shock on her face before she regained her composure.

Michael walked up to Dev’s booth “Hello, my name is Michael and I hear you are called Dev.”

Dev proffered the seat across from him “I am called Dev by my friends.”

“Really? Kind of a cliché statement don’t you think? I’ll play along, what do your enemies call you?” Michael asked with an evil grin.

“They don’t.” Dev said flatly. 

Peace, love, and light to all!