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“No problem. Now, let’s get you out of here and into bed.”

“Okay, deal,” Kip replied as he paid their tab and took Jackie’s hand as they left the dark bar and headed for her car.

“You still planning on heading back to New York in a week or so?” Jackie asked as they walked arm in arm down Sixth Street.

“Not really sure. Maybe I’ll stay a while longer,” Kip replied as he smiled at Jackie.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jackie said as she paused and kissed Kip quickly on the lips. Kip kissed her back. He kissed her back for a long time as he held her tightly.

“Get some, bro!” a young man in a pack of students called out as they passed by.

“Old folk PDA, ya’ll!” a young girl in the group said as she snapped a picture of the tightly embraced couple with her cell phone camera. Kip and Jackie both laughed as they continued on their way back to Jackie’s car. A few blocks into their drive, Kip noticed they were heading the opposite direction from the big white house.

“You miss a turn back there?” Kip asked.

“I said I was taking you home, sailor. I just didn’t say whose home,” Jackie replied with a smile.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Midnight Run

It was three hours into his drive home toward Austin, and Avery was still shaken by the incident at the headquarters. Evil visions of the two Mexican men filled his head. His hands were latched in fear to the hard plastic steering wheel as he sped along the dark, empty highway. Thoughts crashed through his head. Were the two men dead? Were they alive? Why the hell did he take their money? Would they come after him? Avery panicked as he thought about the potential consequences in gruesome detail.

“Too late now,” Avery mumbled as he rubbed his exhausted eyes with his fist. Avery glanced over his shoulder into the back seat and saw the dark face of the chupacabra in the dim light protruding from its silver cocoon. Its tongue was hanging out. It seemed to be laughing at him. Mocking him. Avery turned his eyes back to the road. The lines in the highway zipped past his car’s headlights. Avery flinched as a yellow warning light on his dashboard lit up. The fuel indicator showed that he was almost out of gas. He wanted to put Tornillo as far in his review mirror as he could, but he knew he needed to stop. A few miles later, he pulled into an all-night gas station just off the highway. Avery stopped next to a set of pumps and got out of his car. Noticing the stacks of money on the back seat floorboard, Avery took off his tracksuit top and draped it over the bills. Double-checking to be sure the money was concealed, Avery turned towards the pumps. The sign on the gas pump read Prepay Inside. Avery, shirtless and fatigued, wandered into the station to pay.

“Hey,” said the wiry-looking man behind the counter wearing a battered Texas Tech ball cap. “You can’t come in here without a shirt.”

“I just need some gas,” the weary Avery replied.

“I don’t give two jackrabbit turds what you want. We got standards. Now put a shirt on, or get out.”

“But there’s nobody in here,” pleaded Avery.

“That ain’t the point. Now, vamoose before I get that lawman involved.” Avery turned and looked back at his car. A Texas highway patrol officer had pulled up to the pump next to Avery’s and was peering into the darkened back seat of the rental car. The officer’s back was to the station. Avery quickly exited the gas station and slipped around the corner. Hiding in the shadows, he watched as the officer walked around the car and looked in from the other side.

“Got a smoke, bro?” a voice asked from behind Avery. Spinning on his heels, Avery spotted a boy holding a skateboard.

“No!” Avery hissed as he turned back to watch the officer.

“What’d you do, bro?” the skater said as he peeked around the corner with Avery.

“Nothing,” Avery replied.

“Why you hiding from that cop, then?”

“I’m not hiding,” Avery said. “I’m just considering my options.” Avery noticed the boy’s baggy T-shirt with an anarchy symbol on the front. “Look, kid,” Avery said. “I’ll give you a dollar to borrow your shirt for five minutes.”

“Really? A whole dollar?” the boy said sarcastically. “Screw that, bro. But you score me a six-pack of Budweiser and you’ve got a deal.”

“How old are you?” Avery asked, even though it was obvious the kid was no more than fifteen years old.

“Twenty-three, dude. It’s just that I lost my wallet over in Iraq. You know, it’s like all crazy and shit in Baghdad.”

Avery pondered his options. He needed gas and he needed to get back on the road. “Okay,” Avery relented. “Give me your shirt.”

“Killer,” the boy said as he slipped his shirt off. “Remember, I want Bud, not Bud Light. I haven’t drunk that watered-down piss since sixth grade.” The shirt was baggy on the boy. On Avery, it barely fit. Peeking around the corner, Avery watched as the Highway Patrolman entered the gas station. Sneaking around the side of the building, Avery watched through the front windows as the officer waved to the gas station attendant and headed toward the bathroom in the back of the store. Sensing his opportunity, Avery hurried inside.

“That’s better,” the attendant said as the now fully clothed Avery headed for the beer cooler in back, ducking and weaving his way through the rows of snacks and magazines on the off chance the officer reappeared. Grabbing a six-pack of Budweiser, Avery rushed to the counter.

“This and thirty on the pump,” Avery said as he pushed the beer across the counter. The attendant rang up the purchase. Avery paid quickly.

“You want a sack for that?” the attendant asked. Avery didn’t bother to reply. He grabbed the six-pack through the rings and bolted out the door and around to the side of the gas station. The skater was waiting patiently, smoking a cigarette.

“Here,” said Avery as he handed the boy the beer and started to take off his shirt.

“Wait a minute, dude,” the boy said as he took a drag on the cigarette. “I forgot something. I need some Camels, too.”

“No way, you little bastard,” Avery replied.

“Okay,” said the boy. “Now, I wonder where that police dude went?” The boy scratched his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Buying alcohol for a minor is a pretty big deal around here.”

“Why, you blackmailing little weasel,” Avery said as he reached out for the boy. The boy easily jumped out of the way.

“Chill, bro,” the boy said, laughing. “One pack, and then we’re cool. Seriously.” Avery cursed as he ran back into the store, emerging a minute later with the boy’s smokes.

“Fork over my shirt, man,” the smiling boy said as he put the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

“Take it, you little hyena,” Avery said as he pulled the T-shirt off and threw it at the boy before hurrying to the gas pump.

“Pleasure doing business with you, blubber dude,” the boy happily yelled to Avery before disappearing behind the gas station. Avery shoved the gas nozzle into the rental car’s tank. Inside the station, the attendant noticed the shirtless Avery filling his car at the pump.

“Hey, Bobby,” the attendant said to the highway patrolman coming out of the restroom. “Something kind of fishy going on with that fat boy out there.”

“I’ll check it out,” the patrolman said as he put on his wide-brimmed hat. Avery nervously pretended not to notice the patrolman as he walked towards the pumps. Avery’s hand shook on the nozzle as the noisy gas meter ticked away. “That your vehicle, boy?” the patrolman asked as he approached Avery.

“Uh, well, yes, officer,” Avery muttered.