My truck’s GPS guided me through the mountainous road, my foot getting heavier on the gas the longer I drove. When I finally pulled up in front of a bar, I threw my truck in park and ran up to the door. Yanking and then shoving on the handle got me nowhere, and I looked at the hours.

Closed.

Dammit.

I looked up and saw windows above the place. Someone lived there too—above the bar.

So I banged on the door.

Hard.

It was still fairly early in the morning, but I hoped someone would ...