Page 13 of Killer Moonshine

The second location proved to be a tremendous improvement from the first. It was still a dump. But nevertheless, it was an improvement. There were walls, a porch, windows, and even ceiling fans. No air conditioning, but you couldn’t be too picky when you were drinking illegal liquor. There were two generators providing power to the small structure sitting on a mound of dirt.

There were two long docks with eight small boats tied off. Most were tiny bateaus. Some had small outboard motors perfect for fishing through the bayous. There was soft music playing, but no one was dancing. In fact, they weren’t sure that anyone was even alive inside.

When they opened the door, several had their heads down on their tables or the bar, others looked glassy-eyed, and still others appeared to be completely zoned out.

“I take it back. This is a fresh new hell.”

“Yeah, but it’s a fresh hell we need to be welcomed into,” said Bull.

They walked toward the bar as everyone turned and stared at the strangers. When they reached the bar, they weren’t sure that anyone was actually working, then noticed a very short, very, very young woman staring up at them. She had a long dark braid hanging over her shoulder and dark eyes that looked like she meant business.

“What’ll it be?” she asked. Trak frowned at her.

“Are you old enough to drink?”

“Who are you? My father?” she frowned. “Never mind. I know you’re not my father.”

“Don’t you know your father?” asked Trak. She opened her mouth, then glared at him.

“No, asshole. I don’t know my father. And no, I’m not old enough to drink, but I can serve it. I need this job. So, do you want something or not?”

“My friend didn’t mean anything by his comment,” said Otto. “You’re just awfully young and pretty.”

“Well, thank you. I’m eighteen. I can serve. Out here anyway. I need the work, and it’s decent money. What do you want?” she asked.

“I’ll have a whiskey,” said Bull. He’d sip the shit out of it, but he wouldn’t drink it all.

“Beer for me,” said Otto.

“And you?” she asked, looking up at Trak.

“Bottled water.”

“Bottled water? Mister, do I look like I have bottled water? I got soda, beer, whiskey, and moonshine. Take your pick.”

“Soda. Diet if you have it.”

“Diet,” she nodded. “Right. The big man with six-pack abs wants a diet soda so he can watch his figure.”

“How would you know if I have a six-pack?” he frowned.

“Dude, I can see the ripples through your t-shirt. Unless you’re wearing padding, you’ve got six-pack abs. Not that I’m complaining, it’s attractive. I mean, for someone who looks old enough to be my grandfather.”

She brought out their drinks as they felt the eyes of everyone in the bar on them. Otto turned, raising his glass and smiling at the people. They all said hello, raising their glasses as well, but stared at Trak.

“Maybe I should wait outside,” said Trak.

“No,” said Bull, shaking his head. “You’re good here. Besides, she keeps running into the brush like the other guy. That still is sitting right out there.”

They watched as she ran back to the bar, grabbing a giant wrench.

“Problem?” asked Otto.

“Yeah, there’s an asshole in charge of something that he knows nothing about, and I’ve got to fix it, or I won’t have enough moonshine to sell tonight.”

She took off, and Bull looked at Otto, stepping toward the back of the bar where she’d exited. A few seconds later, a flash of light and fire hit the sky, and they all ducked. All except Trak, who ran toward the explosion.

Lying twenty feet from the now mangled metal was the young girl. Shards of metal lacerated her skin, pointing out as the fire burned parts of her face and hair, clothing stuck to her body.

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