Moans, Mummies, and Murder (The Dead-End Drive-In Series Book 2) Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  MOANS, MUMMIES, AND MURDER

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  Moans,

  Mummies,

  and

  Murder

  The Dead-End Drive-In Series

  Book Two

  By

  Carolyn Q. Hunter

  Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Author’s Note: On the next page, you’ll find out how to access all of my books easily, as well as locate books by best-selling author, Summer Prescott. I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on – reader feedback is very important to me. Please see the following page for my publisher’s contact information. If you’d like to be on her list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc…just shoot her an email and let her know. Thanks for reading!

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  MOANS, MUMMIES,

  AND MURDER

  The Dead-End Drive-In Series Book Two

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  Pax could feel the sweat beginning to roll off his forehead and down his temples. Pushing his foot harder on the gas, the large transport truck growled into the dark night air. The high beams of the headlights flickered over the bayou’s trees one by one, and the faster he pushed the acceleration, the more it looked like some eerie strobe light staring him back in the face.

  Licking his salty lips, Pax tried to keep the sleep from his tired eyes. A small golden ankh bobbed back a forth, hanging on the mirror and he made a little plea that he would have the energy to finish this job. He had to make this delivery tonight. He couldn’t afford to stop off at a motel or on the side of the road and catch some shut eye.

  He felt like his very life depended on it.

  Hand shaking, he reached down and grabbed for his thermos. Lifting it, he popped the hinged lid tilted it back. One last gulp of cold coffee ran down his throat.

  It wasn’t going to be enough.

  Swearing under his breath, he realized he’d need to stop at the next gas station and get a refill, otherwise, he might just fall asleep at the wheel and go careening into the bayou waters where he would surely drown.

  “Come on, Pax. You can do this,” he whispered to himself, patting himself on his stubbled cheeks to keep himself awake. He just needed to make it to a gas station, grab some coffee, and then be on his way.

  No problem, right?

  A few minutes later, a neon light glimmered between the bayou trees. Coming around the bend, Pax spotted the sign for a tiny, out-of-the-way gas station nestled just off the road. The neon of the front sign had half gone out, leaving part of the building in darkness.

  Driving the delivery truck up along the side of the building, he shut off the engine and got out. Considering checking the cargo, he decided against it, not wanting to chance to open the back doors to what might come crawling out.

  He knew he was being irrational about this whole situation, but he didn’t care. The occult and the living dead were all too real, and he knew it.

  He wouldn’t take any chances.

  “Just get the job done,” he’d told himself. After all, he was getting paid a pretty penny to make this transport.

  Walking into the building, the pudgy man behind the counter didn’t even bother looking up from the magazine he was reading. That was all the better. Pax didn’t have the time or energy for small talk.

  Walking over to the instant coffee machine, he held his thermos under the tap and filled it up all the way with the strongest brew they had. It would taste like burnt sludge, he knew, but that wasn’t the point—not tonight.

  Walking over to the counter, he set his thermos down. “I filled this. How much do I owe you?”

  The man glanced up from his reading with a scowl. “You can’t fill your own thermos, bub. Only our cups.”

  “Look, I really need to get a move on,” Pax urged.

  “Our cups only.”

  “So, charge me for two cups, three cups even. Just let me pay and get out of here.”

  “Our cups only,” he said again, refusing to bend on the issue.

  “I don’t have time for this,” Pax barked.

  The gas station attendant stood up, prepared to return the argument when a loud metallic thud came from outside.

  Pax looked up toward the front door with wide, wild eyes. The redness in them not only indicated a lack of sleep, but total throbbing terror as well. “Oh no,” he muttered, dashing for the door, thermos in hand.

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going with that?” the cashier shouted.

  Crossing the dark parking lot toward his truck, Pax saw that the back doors were both open. His entire body beginning to tremble as he approached the vehicle.

  Instinctively he glanced one way and then the other, just to make sure no one, and nothing, was there waiting for him—prepared to pounce like a wild cat stalking its prey.

  The sweat was pouring from his hairline now, his heart rapid and uncomfortable. For a moment, his vision turned fuzzy and he wondered if he was going to pass out. Gripping his hands into fists, he felt his fingernails claw at the skin of his palms. The pain instantly forced him back into the present and staved off the blackness of unconsciousness.

  It was his load and he was responsible for checking what had happened.

  Barely able to move his shaking legs, he managed to put one foot in front of the other and approach the open back doors. Gripping the handrail on the inner sidewall of the truck, he stepped up and peered inside.

  Even in the darkness, he could see that the crate was open, the nails ripped from their holes in the plywood. The fabric restraint bands had been unhinged and ripped apart, leaving only frayed fragments behind. Bits of packing straw lay strewn about the interior, indicating the contents of the box had been shifted out. His whole body began to shake uncontrollably as he realized the implications of what he was seeing.

 
It had gotten out.

  “Hey, you can’t just run off without paying,” came the irritated shout from behind Pax.

  Turning, he saw the gas station attendant standing there just below him at the back of the truck, hands on his hips and a scowl still on his face.

  However, that wasn’t all Pax saw.

  Standing behind the attendant was a large, looming shadow. It didn’t breathe, it didn’t move, it didn’t even have visible eyes.

  “Look out!” Pax shouted at the top of his lungs, warning the short man.

  It was too late.

  In one quick movement, the shadow reached out. The attendant began to scream.

  CHAPTER 1

  * * *

  “I thought this was supposed to be the Voodoo Drive-In. Not the Egyptian Drive-In,” Anna-Lee Francis said as she came down the stairs that morning. Her dark hair was still damp from the shower and she had it tied up in a bun atop her head. Her black jeans and tight fitting green t-shirt made for a simple yet flattering outfit.

  That morning, the dining room of the restaurant looked like it belonged on the set of a low-budget mummy movie, which Anna realized was probably exactly what her sister was going for. The walls were draped with long transparent cloths in the colors of cream, gold, and maroon. Behind these were temporary floor to ceiling hangings that made the walls appear as if they were made from stone which had stereotypical hieroglyphs painted on them. Palm fronds and peacock feathers stuck out of golden pots in the corners and at the entrance.

  The tables were also draped with white and gold cloth, and the usual “shrunken head” centerpieces were replaced with tiny sarcophaguses, sphinx statues, and other generic Egyptian themed items.

  Belle and Valerie Bronson, the mother-like assistant manager of the drive-in, were busy finishing up the decorations. While Belle stood on a ladder, Val held a long drapery of cloth over her outstretched arms. She almost looked like a lady in waiting assisting her mistress.

  It was only the second week since Anna had returned to her hometown of Sunken Grove, Louisiana where she was forced to live with her sister in a one-bedroom apartment above the Voodoo Drive-In and Restaurant.

  Thanks to some financial troubles, she found herself relying on Belle for a job and a place to stay. In the past, Anna had always been the responsible and down-to-earth one in the family. Now, seeing that Belle was the one who owned the successful small-town movie theater and eatery, it seemed the tables had turned.

  Anna was still getting used to that.

  “Hello?” Anna called, waving a hand and realizing no one had heard her come down from the apartment.

  Belle glanced over and smiled. “Oh, hi, Anna.”

  “Good morning, dear,” Val added. “Do you want to give us a hand with these decorations?”

  “What is all of this?” Anna asked, motioning to the elaborately decorated room.

  “What do you mean?” Belle turned her attention back to the long drapery she was hanging. Lifting the silver staple gun and pressing the lever, she created an anchor to keep the cloth in place.

  “I mean why is this place decked out like the Queen of Egypt’s palace?”

  “For the special movie event this Friday, of course.” Belle added another staple and then, eyeing it to make sure her work was straight, climbed down from the ladder. “I thought it would be nice to have the decorations up all week to increase interest in the showing.”

  Taking another drapery from Val, Belle glanced over at her sister. Anna still had her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Don’t you remember?”

  Anna felt slightly warm from embarrassment. “No, actually. I don’t remember.” She had to admit, she was still getting oriented to being back in Sunken Grove. It meant she wasn’t always as on top of the day-to-day things as she usually was. She didn’t always notice things that were happening around her.

  “That’s okay. You’ve only been here a couple weeks.”

  “Don’t worry, dear. You’ll start to get used to living here again, I’m sure.” Val moved over and layed the cloths temporarily on the counter. “Have you had anything to eat this morning?”

  “What is this movie thing that’s happening?” she asked, missing Val’s question.

  “Well, you know I mostly show old horror movies here at the drive-in.”

  “Of course. It’s the whole point of the theater, isn’t it?”

  “Exactly, but I’d like to start showing newer movies as well, movies by aspiring and upcoming filmmakers.” Shifting the ladder over a few feet, she climbed up to start work on the next section of the wall.

  “Independent films, you mean?” Anna pointed out.

  “Exactly. While the mainstream companies don’t make a whole lot of good movies, some smaller businesses make some pretty fun and campy stuff. It goes very well with the whole theme of showing low-budget and b-grade horror movies from the golden age of cinema.”

  “I can see that, but what’s this movie we’re showing on Friday?”

  Turning her head to look at her sister, Belle wore a big, excited smile. “It’s called The Mummy’s Bandages. It’s about this girl who dresses up for a costume party by dressing as a mummy. What she doesn’t know is that the bandages she puts on are from an actual mummy.”

  “Ew, that’s disgusting,” Anna grunted. She wasn’t much of a horror fan, not like her sister.

  “She becomes possessed by the mummy who goes on a rampage to try and reclaim its former glory.”

  “Well, that makes total sense,” Anna agreed. She was fully aware that mummies were one of her sister’s all-time favorite movie monsters in old horror flicks. It only seemed right that Belle would go all out for an indie-movie premier like this.

  “Yeah, it’s going to be awesome. The writer and director, Mack Williams, is going to be here to answer questions afterward.”

  “Sounds neat,” Anna said. She was being honest, too. While she didn’t have the same likes as her sister, it was kind of awesome to watch Belle use her creativity to her fullest. Anna never had that kind of passion or creativity and sometimes felt jealous.

  “And wait until you see the main centerpiece,” Belle squeaked excitedly, finishing up hanging the last stretch of cloth and climbing down from the ladder.

  “You mean there’s more?” Anna teased, widening her eyes as if she was overwhelmed by it all.

  “Yeah, for this week only, I’m renting a life-size replica of a sarcophagus they used in a bunch of British movies from the fifties and sixties. Like Blood from the Mummy’s Crypt, Curse of the Ancient Mummy, and Shroud Over the Mummy.”

  “I don’t recall enjoying any of those movies,” Anna admitted.

  Belle rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t, but you don’t really like scary movies, either.”

  Anna shrugged. “You’re right. You’ve got me there.”

  A sudden—and very loud—knock at the front door made all three women jump. “That must be the mummy I ordered,” Belle said, skipping over to the door.

  The knocking was persistent, impatient.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Belle shouted. Arriving at the door, she unlatched the lock and swung it open.

  Upon seeing the large looming figure standing hunched in her doorway, she screamed.

  CHAPTER 2

  * * *

  “Delivery for Sarah-Belle Francis,” the strange man sputtered as if he’d just finished running a marathon. He was leaning against the doorframe as if he were about ready to pass out, and his pale clammy skin didn’t help the look. His eyes were the most shocking part. They were so red and bloodshot that, at a glance, you’d think that maybe he was a vampire or something of that sort.

  His appearance had been so unexpected that Belle couldn’t but help screaming a little. Luckily, it seemed her little outburst hadn’t phased the man at all.

  “Oh, I’m Sarah-Belle,” she informed him, examining him up and down. This man was clearly overworked and overstressed.

  “Sign
here,” he insisted, shoving the clipboard and pen into her hand.

  Quickly signing along the line, she handed it back to him.

  “Here’s your package.” He motioned to the large, coffin-sized crate sitting just behind him on the pavement.

  “Just bring it in here,” Belle instructed.

  “Not my problem,” he spat. His reaction was short, angry.

  “Well, do you at least want to sit down for a minute? I could get you some coffee or a glass of water.”

  The man didn’t respond. It was like he hadn’t even heard her offer at all. Marching right back to his truck which was parked just a few feet off in front of the building, he climbed in.

  “Strange,” Belle muttered.

  “Do you need help bringing it in, dear?” Val asked.

  “Yeah, grab the dolly, will you?”

  In less than a minute, all three women were on the crate, carefully dragging it into the restaurant.

  “This is so heavy,” Anna complained.

  “Yeah, you’d think they’d make a movie prop like this a little easier to move around,” Belle said. The truck still sat there when the front door shut as they dragged the box into the entryway. Belle simply figured that he was resting a minute before getting back on the road.

  “Hey, it looks like the crate was damaged during shipping,” Anna pointed out.

  “You’re right.” Belle leaned over the crate and noticed a few of the planks of wood were splintered and broken. It looked like they were haphazardly mended and put back together.

  “They better not charge you if the thing inside is broken.”

  “I’m sure it’s not.”

  “But if it is, you make sure to tell them that it was that shipping guy’s fault. Not yours.”

  “I will, I will. Thanks, mom,” Belle teased.

  “Girls, really,” Val sighed, putting her hands on her hips. She was a lot older than the two twenty-something sisters. Moving the crate was much harder work for her.