Pack Challenge

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To Maggie R. for showing me the way. Only your closest friends can take care of your pickup truck, Sissy.

And to Cypress B. for making sure I stayed on the path. You were there even when the light was at its darkest. “You are my Frodo.”

Waste of his time. That’s what this was. Minutes of his life that he would never get back. Zach walked into the club and was surprised to find a place like this, called Skelly’s, in this dinky little Texas town. Hard core industrial and tech music tore through the tiny club and Zach let himself relax a little. He had assumed he was about to enter redneck heaven. His kind usually ended up in the middle of a shit storm around rednecks. Too much testosterone and liquor always led to trouble.

He moved through the tightly packed club, checking out everyone, until he reached the bar. He watched the bartender pull drinks for a few moments. She was a cute, petite black woman with a shaggy mass of dark curly hair. She was definitely a pro and each drink she made was absolutely precise. She never gave any more or less than was necessary. Plus, she held on a continuous conversation with a tall, seriously hot Latina at the other end of the bar and she never missed a beat. Never splashed a drop. She was good.

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