The blonde recoiled, turned, and gave in his order. She stayed that way, her back to the newcomer, until Preach’s food was delivered via the high pass-through. She set the plates in front of Preach and, smiling, said, “Can I get you anything else?”

Before he had a chance to answer, the bear-man said, “Hey, what the hell’re you doing. That’s my food.”

“No, sir, it isn’t,” the blonde said with a quaver of fear in her voice. “I just gave in your order.”

“Are you fucking telling me that’s not my breakfast right there?”

“Sir, there’s no call to use that kind of language.”

“I’ll use whatever fucking language I fucking want.” He climbed off the stool. “I want to know why you’re giving my breakfast to this piece of trash here.” He glanced at Preach. “I know low-country shit when I see it. Old people don’t have need of food, am I right?”

“Sir, please sit back down and be patient,” the blonde said. Preach could feel her terror coming off her in waves. “Otherwise, I’ll have to call the police.”

“Okay, okay. Relax, Blondie.” Smiling, the bear-man reached into his pocket, shook out a cigarette.

The blonde’s eyes grew big around and she pointed to a sign taped over the pass-through to the kitchen. “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no smoking on the premises.”

“That right?” The bear-man shrugged. “Well, we don’t want to break any of this shithole’s rules, do we?” Holding the cigarette like a pointing finger, he jammed it down into one of Preach’s egg yolks, then swirled it around until it broke open, the bits of tobacco flecked through the running yellow streams.

“Now I will call the police,” Blondie said.

The bear-man’s hand snaked out, pinned her wrist to the counter. “You ain’t going nowhere, Blondie.”

“Please! You’re hurting me.”

He grinned at her, baring his nicotine-stained teeth.

In the far corner, the shadow stirred at precisely the same instant Preach’s lips moved as if in prayer. Preach’s eyes slid shut, and a shimmery dimness overtook the interior, though the blonde was dead certain the lights were burning as bright as ever.

“Oh, Lordy,” she breathed.

A moment later, the bear-man’s SUV burst into flame.

“What the fuck?” he said, as he whirled around. Then he let go of the blonde’s wrist and, striding to the front door, hauled it open. “What the fucking fuck!”

He raced down the steps, but somehow his feet got tangled up, his ankles turned to Jell-O, and he fell hard face-first against the bare concrete. There was a crack like lightning. He lay where he fell, unmoving. A dark stain spread out from his head, dripping from the concrete to the blacktop, where it glimmered in the diner’s fluorescent lights.