“Shakes,” Barbara said. “I could go for one about now.”

“I could go for a beer,” Pete said.

“I think I saw a saloon up the road,” Jean told him.

“But they only serve Ghost-Light,” Larry said.

“Let’s break a few out of the van before we move on.”

“You’ve got a beer?” Larry could tasteit.

“Surely you jest. The desert’s one dry mother. You think I’d brave her without my survival stash?”

“All right!”

Pete headed for the door.

“Aren’t you going to look around?” Barbara asked.

“What’s to see?” He hurried outside.

“I guess he’s right,” Jean said, scanning the room.

“The rest of it must’ve been a general store,” Larry said. “I bet they carried everything.”

Nothing remained, not even shelves. Except for the lunch counter and stools, the room was bare. Behind the counter was a serving window. Farther down, Larry saw a closed door that probably connected with the kitchen. Past the end of the counter was an alcove. “That’s probably where the rest rooms were.”

“I think I’ll check out the ladies‘,” Barbara said.

“Lotsa luck,” Jean told her.

“Can’t hurt to have a look.”

She walked into the alcove, opened a door, and whirled away clutching her mouth.

“Apparently,” Larry said, “it did hurt to take a look.”

Barbara scrunched up her face.

“You’re a little green around the gills,” Jean told her.

She lowered her hand and took a deep breath. “Guess I’ll find a place around back.”

They left Holman’s. She followed the porch, jumped off, and disappeared around a corner of the building.

Larry and Jean went to the van. When Pete came out he had four bottles of beer clutched to his chest. “Where’s Barb?”