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<strong>Jack</strong> <strong>kilborn</strong> <strong>SErial</strong> <strong>blakE</strong> <strong>crouch</strong><br />
They stopped at a filling station in Moab. Matt pumped gas<br />
and kenny went inside the convenience store to procure<br />
the substantial list of snacks they’d been obsessing on for<br />
the last hour. When Matt walked inside to pay, she opened<br />
the guitar case and took out the syringe. The smell wafted<br />
out—not overpowering by any means, but she wondered<br />
if the boys would notice. She hadn’t had a chance to properly<br />
clean everything in awhile. lucy reached up between the<br />
seats and tested the weight of the two budweisers in the drink<br />
holders: each about half-full. She eyed the entrance to the<br />
store—no one coming—and shot a squirt from the syringe<br />
into the mouth of each can.<br />
kenny cracked a can of bud and said, “Dude, was that shit<br />
laced?”<br />
“What are you talking about?”<br />
They sped through a country of red rock and buttes and<br />
waterless arroyos.<br />
“What we smoked.”<br />
“i don’t think so.”<br />
“Man, i don’t feel right. Where’d you get it?”<br />
“From Tim. Same as always.”<br />
lucy leaned forward and studied the double yellow line<br />
through the windshield. after Matt drifted across for a third<br />
time, she said, “Would you pull over please?”<br />
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