Earl spent the rest of the night in the empty graveyard. Hector hadn't been able to provide any answers for what had happened. He reassured Earl he'd look into it, but Earl didn't have much hope. He sat on Cathy's grave, nursing a six-pack, and feeling sorry for himself. It was times like this that he really missed being able to get drunk.
About half-an-hour before dawn, Duke moseyed into the cemetery.
"I'd offer you a beer, but this is my last one." Earl popped it open. The warm alcohol foamed and spilled over his hands. "Shit."
"Hector tell you what happened?" Duke asked.
"Nope. Said she might have finally moved on to the next plane."
"Say why?"
"Said he didn't know, but told me he didn't see how it could've been anything I'd done."
Earl offered Duke a drink. Duke waved it away.
"No thanks. So how you doing?"
"Me? I'm just fine. I just killed my girlfriend, that's all. How else should I be?"
"If Hector said it ain't your fault, then it ain't."
"Aw that's bullshit. I screwed it up, Duke. She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I screwed it up."
Earl threw the half-full aluminum can at the moon. It twirled, spraying beer, and hung in the air for a long while before finally coming down to earth.
"I fucked it all up."
"Ain't as bad as all that," Duke offered.
"Hell it ain't!"
Earl wiped a solitary drop of moisture that had managed to work its way free of his dried-up tear ducts.
"Sorry, Duke. I ain't mad at you, but you just don't understand. You don't know what it's like, being me. Everybody likes you. Or at least they don't not like you."
"People like you, Earl."
"No, people get used to me." He chuckled. "It's not the same thing. No big deal, really. I'm used to it. My mama didn't even like me. And my daddy thought I was a worthless pile of cow shit. Told me so on his deathbed. Pulled me over and whispered it in my ear just before croaking.
"My whole life, I can count four people who liked me. There's you, and this pet turtle I had when I was six, and my grammy Betta. And Cathy. She was the first woman who really liked me."
"There'll be others."
"You aren't listening to me. I'm ninety-seven years old. Ninety-seven. That's almost a whole damn century on this earth. And all I got to show for it are four people. And one of them ain't even a person.
"I used'ta wonder sometimes why living forever was supposed to be a good thing. Don't get me wrong. Being immortal ain't all that bad. I was always a night person anyway, and the powers can be kind'a cool. But, I mean, this whole undead stuff sounds good on paper, but it ain't all it's cracked up to be.
"See, the way I got it figured, dying is sort'a like the thing that gives your life meaning. You may not want to get there, but, without it, you're just looking at a long, long road to nowhere. I'd gotten used to looking down that road, Duke." He looked to the horizon where the sun would be rising soon. "But I don't think I can do it anymore."
"What'cha talking about, Earl?"
"I'm talking 'bout maybe it's time to end it."
Duke cast a disagreeable glance at the vampire.
"Now hear me out 'fore calling me stupid. Everybody's gotta die. We undead try to pretend like we don't, but just 'cuz we don't die of natural causes, that ain't exactly the same thing. Sure, it's possible I might last till the end of time, but I wouldn't take odds on that.
"Now I've lived a good hundred years. Most of it hasn't been bad. There's been some good spots here and there, but mostly it was a whole lotta nuthin' special. Then Cathy and these last five days come along, and I figure that it was worth the wait. And it was. But now that it's over, I don't think there's anything better out there waiting for me.
"Now I'm not saying I really want to kill myself. But it's gonna happen eventually, and either I'll have to do it myself or somebody's gonna do it for me. Probably in one of the less pleasant ways."
"What's your point?"
"Point is, Duke, one way or another, I'm gonna die tonight. And I'm asking you, as my best friend, to help me out. I'll just turn my back, here on Cathy's grave, and think about her, and you'll sneak up right behind me, and rip my head clean off. It'll be the last favor I ever ask you, and if you're really my friend, you'll do it for me."
He turned, cleared his head, and felt the cold, dry earth beneath him. Cathy's smiling face came to him, and he smiled back at her. He dared hope that he'd find her on the other side, though if there was an afterlife, he doubted they'd end up in the same place.
"You aren't gonna do it, are you?"
Duke shook his head.
"Damn it, you prick. It ain't all that much to ask."
"Maybe, but you'll have to do it yourself."
"Fine. I will. I'll just let the sun take care of it."
"You do that." Duke hocked up a mouthful of saliva and mucus and spat it in the dirt. "Y'know, Earl, there'll be others."
"Not like her."
"Give it time."
"What? Another hundred years? Thanks, but no thanks."
"Suit yourself. You ever seen a vampire done in by sunlight?"
"No."
"I have. Once." Duke shook his head slowly. "It's not like in the movies. He didn't blow up or catch fire or nuthin' quick like that. No, it was more like he turned to sludge. First his skin peeled off, layer by layer. Then his muscles sorta just sloshed off his bones. And his organs smoldered and dripped into a black puddle. Then his bones popped and snapped and liquefied. Took 'bout five minutes for the poor bastard to finally expire. He screamed himself hoarse for most of it."
Earl glared. "You aren't talking me out of this, Duke."
"I'm not trying to. Just figured I'd tell you what you had to look forward to."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Well, you got about ten minutes to dawn. I'd stick around but seeing one bloodsucker get a tan was enough for me."
"If you were my friend, you'd kill me."
"Well, maybe I'll feel up to it tomorrow night, but you can't wait that long." As the werewolf walked through the cemetery gates, he shouted without looking back. "See you 'round, Earl. . or I guess not."
The first rays of dawn came. The horizon turned soft red. It hurt Earl's eyes to look at it. He tried thinking of Cathy, to not think about the pain morning might inflict on his delicate complexion.
"Damn it, Duke," he grumbled. "You better kill me tomorrow, or I'll have'ta kick your ass, you son of a bitch." Squinting, he shielded his eyes and ran back to the diner.