Their conversation, such as it was, was suddenly interrupted by an uneven thunking sound from the front of the car. "You've got to be kidding me!" Bernie pulled over and got out. "Flat tire." He said when he came back to the window.
Annalene breathed out. Why me? she almost sobbed. Looking out the window she took in the road before her. She could take the rest on foot. Flunging the door open, she sprang outside, and with a sideways look at the flat tire, she waved a hand, 'Yeah, well, thanks anyway.' and she worked up a stride on the side walk. She didn't fail to hear Bernie curse as he was left to deal with the car on his own. Annalene looked upwards, as if she would be of any help! She caught a glimpse of a local pub at the end of the street. Breathing a sigh. At least she can use the phone, maybe have a soda or something. On entering the pub, she was greeted by a ....
On entering the pub, she was greeted by a roomful of staring faces. She had no idea why everyone was staring at her. Was there dirt on her face? Was her shirt unbuttoned? Was her hair on fire? None of these seemed to be true so she plastered on a smile and asked the nearest dumbstruck man who happened to be sitting at the bar with his hand in the bowl of beer nuts, "Where's the phone?"
" Same place as yesterday's." he said, almost in a growl. He eyed her with bloodshot eyes. Annalene shivered, fighting the urge to ask OK, where was it yesterday?! She looked around, and her eyes fell on a familiar spot right at the far corner of the stuffy pub. There, at that exact table, she had first met Ken. And he was sitting there right that minute. He looked up at her and...
...Annalene felt a slipping feeling, a skewed de ja vu. This had all happened before. But it hadn't happened this way. The table where Ken sat was familiarly placed but in a pub miles away from the coffeeshop where they had been yesterday. She was sure of it...or was she? It had to be the coffeeshop because she had just gone from work. Right? She staggered for an instant, dizzy. "Well, you gonna go talk to him or what?" the man at the bar growled again, "I swear he's been over there cryin' in his beer over you."
Annalene turned on here heel, and headed for the door. "It's his beer," she said softly. "He can drink it any way he likes." The silence fell about her so suddenly, she wondered for a moment if shehad gone deaf. but she could hear the soft tread of her shoes on the dusty carpet. The door creaked as she opened it and stepped ou into the bright daylight. The brightness made her eyes water as she walked across the gravel lot. Yes, it was definitely the harsh light stinging her eyes.
Annalene realized that she was wiping her eyes as she approached the Firebird again. Bernie's legs extended from the far side of the car. Apparently he was fixing the tire though he must be doing it in a leisurely way. The legs weren't moving. She drew back to the other side of the Firebird, she didn't want to look at Bernie's legs. "The...uh...the phone was out of order," she lied, pawing at her eyes again. There was no answer.
She couldn’t help but think it. With everything that had happened so far it seemed the most likely thing in the world. “Bernie?” Crap! Common, what the hell. She placed her palm on her forehead, and closed her eyes for a long moment.
Taking in a deep breath, she approached the car. She lightly nudged his leg with her foot. Nothing happened. She nudged again. Nothing happened. She gasped and bent over to where his head was. She had to feel pulse. Not Bernie, 'Please, not Bernie.' she found herself whispering, as she placed her fingers at the end of his throat, except her hand was shaking she couldn't feel a thing. Annalene leaned on his chest, hoping to hear his heart beat. Bernie lazily opened his eyes. 'I must be in heaven,' he smirked, looking down at Annalene, who gasped jumped away instantly.
Unfortunately, Annalene said, "Ew." before she could stop herself and Bernie looked a bit offended. The tire was still flat, blown out from the look of it. "Why are you napping when you should be fixing the tire?" She demanded. "Can't do it, Dollface, no tire iron," he smirked, "and if you don't have a phone and I don't have a phone and the tavern down the road doesn't have a phone..." He smirked again and waggled his eyebrows the lascivious meaning clear.
Annalene grumbled and got to her feet. 'Jerk!' and she stormed off, not knowing exactly where she was going. She walked back along the sidewalk. Not back to the cofee shop for sure. She walked past it without even looking at it. The door flung open and out went Ken, coliding with Annalene. She made a resentfl sound, 'Why do you keep runing into me, Ken?' she looked at him with furious eyes. He looked down at her with a weird expression on his face, 'I'm not Ken'
Riiiight, not Ken? Maybe he was one of those guys. He would meet people and change his alias on a daily basis. Annalene was confused and angry, she would let Ken... or whoever, stay in his happy place. She decided to go in the coffee shop since he was on the way out. "Excuse me," she said to the man as she passed him to go in and think a moment. He followed her into the coffee shop. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
((okay, okay, fine. Somehow we completely changed where everyone was but it's just going to continue so to heck with it. It's a coffeeshop.))
“Do I know you from somewhere?” She thought about that for a moment. Maybe he was playing a game? What if he bumped his head and has amnesia? “You seriously don’t remember me, Ken?” He looked stern. “I told you. I’m not Ken.” “Right, okay, fine. Who are you then?” (You guys are writing like 80-90 words. Cheaters )
"Like I really have to explain myself to you," the guy-who-looked-like Ken scowled. "You've done enough. Come with me." He grabbed her arm in an ungentle grip and dragged her along with him as he walked away from the coffeeshop (or tavern, or whatever).
Look-a-like Ken dragged her to his car. She tried to pull her arm away from his grip. “Let go.” He opened his car door and let go of her. She rubbed her tender wrist. “Don’t make a scene. Just get in the car.”
Annalene's eyes widened at his absolute arrogance. "I don't think I will, thanks," she snarled, scraping her shoe down his shin and stomping on his foot to get him to let go of her.
Annalene screamed and tried to pull away. Not-Ken looked around, a little nervously. Seeing no one else nearby, he clapped a hand over her mouth and tried once more to push her in the car. Annalene raked her nails across his eyes. His grip on her wrist relaxed, and she pulled free. She slammed her knee into his groin, and he stumble back aqgaqinst teh car, then doubled over in pain. Annalene ran.
As she ran she looked for anything or anyone who could help her and found nothing. She sprinted back the way she had come, a half-formed plan to find Skillet and the Real Ken somehow. He had creeped her out but at least he'd been nice to her. Her feet pounded in time to her racing heart and suddenly she realized that she heard a repeated whispering growl in the air around her, keeping time with both. "You belong to me, you belong to me..."
She stopped, gripped her head with both hands. Where did the voice come from? What’s going on? She stared at her reflection in a window on a square building. Then she saw a transparent apparition. It was the hippy. “You’re totally in danger. Don’t let him get you too.” He rubbed his braided beard.
She turned as though he'd bitten her on the butt. No hippie. Instead, her own car rolled to a stop beside her, Ken at the wheel, Skillet in his pocket. He looked concerned. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, "I was worried when you just ran off like that. We never even got to have the sandwiches."
She wanted to just scream—scream all her problems away. What does it say about life when the only stable thing in her life was the real Ken? But what if both Ken’s are the same guy? Her thoughts were interrupted by a man yelling behind her. “Hey.” She glanced back. It was the second Ken. Quickly, she jumped in the car. “Drive, go.” Ken looked over his shoulder and saw, himself.
His foot went down on the accelerator the exact same time that he said, "This isn't good." But he didn't sound surprised. Just unhappy at the development. Annalene looked back and saw the Other Ken running behind them, falling behind as Ken pushed the car to go faster, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. "So is he a twin? A clone? What?"
"Not exactly," Ken said. Annalene looked at him, and arched her eyebrow. She waited. "He's bad news. That's all I can say right now. Just stay away from him." "Uh huh. So you're good news?" Ken smiled, and took the ramp onto the freeway. "Hungry?"
