Cowgirl Thrillers

by Barbara Neville

“Son of a gun. Bitch. You scared the pee waddin’ outta me, ladybug.”

  “Pant, pant.”

  “You alone? Where’s Shaz?”

  Bitch turns her head to look back down the tunnel.

  “If you could learn to speak English, be a help.”

  I pet her for a bit, thinking.

  “Smart thing is to go find the boys and get lights.”

  I turn around in the narrow space, not easy, and start toward the entrance.

  After I crawl a few steps, Bitch whines.

  I look back but can’t see her. I wiggle my way back around and feel for her. She is not close enough to reach. I crawl back around the corner. Now I can see the glow of her fur. There is a bit of light coming from a crack somewhere.

  “Bitch, come.”

  She hesitates, once again looking back farther into the tunnel. Maybe she has a kill back there and wants to share? Maybe a nap spot? It is nice and warm in here.

  “Bitch, we can come back, we just need to get lights.”

  She whines, unimpressed by my incomprehensible logic, and stands her ground. Reluctantly, but with a hundred pound dog to protect me, I follow her on into the tunnel. I’ve got a couple of weapons on me, too. Not fond of shooting in tight places in the pitch dark, though. Another reason why a good knife is always in style. Backup.

  As we move along, the light slowly gets brighter. It is gleaming off the crystals on each side and coming in above us through the crack in the ceiling. The well-used floor is thankfully still smooth or my knees and palms would be shredded. Crystals are by their faceted nature, sharp.

  After a ways, the light has petered out and we are in complete darkness again. All I hear is Bitch panting, and her paws and my various limbs scuffling along in the dust.

  I hear a new sound, like a moan. Bitch stops walking, I bump into her wagging tail. She sits. As I edge around and feel into the dark void ahead, I feel a leg. Another moan. Who?

  I feel a hand and run my hand up an arm. The face is gagged. I fidget around and get my other arm past Bitch in the narrow defile. With a bunch of feeling and fiddling, I figure out the knot and untie the gag. There is an intake of breath. Nothing else.

  “Damn it, can you talk?” I lift an arm, it falls to the ground. Check the pulse, strong and steady. I do a full body search. Tits, oops, sorry. Okay, she is female. Then in a pocket, I find matches.

  I strike one up and, sure enough, it is Shaz. All trussed up. I untie her ankles.

  I look at Bitch, “Now what?”

  I don’t even have water. I slap her face. Not fun. Always thought it would be. Her head flops around a bit but she is out of it. I have the two ropes she was tied with. I feel around and find the thick saddle blanket that she is sitting on. I can’t really get past her to search more.

  I am concerned that if I leave her here alone to go get help, the kidnappers will return. I definitely want to keep her with me.

  I get things moved around so Shaz is head first toward the entrance laying on the saddle blanket. I tie a chest rope around Bitch. I tuck Shaz’ hands into her belt. Then, I tie the rope to the corners of the blanket and run them around Bitch’s chest and over her back to make a quick and dirty harness. The rope is long enough that I can fit in between Bitch and Shaz. That way I can help pull and check to be sure Shaz doesn’t roll off. Plus watch that the blanket doesn’t wear through. I run rope around my shoulders and tie myself into the makeshift harness.

  “Okay girl, let’s try this out. Walk slowly.”

  Bitch does. Holy cow, does she understand English?

  The rope tightens on me, so I start pulling too, moving at a slow crawl. The blanket, with Shaz atop, starts to slide. We slowly make our way back to daylight. We stop along the way to negotiate corners and check on our patient. Fortunately, it is not as far as it felt like going in and Shaz is a good girl who never rolls off the blanket.

  Unfortunately, despite all the movement, she is still unconscious. I leave Shaz and Bitch in the shade and walk a few yards out onto the hillside, keeping them in sight. I whoop for the boys. They must be wondering where I am by now. Been a long while since I saw them last. I am thirsty and tired. Not sure I can carry Shaz all the way to Mose camp. It is downhill but right steep in spots.

  I whoop a few more times and whistle. A twig snaps behind me.

  “Annie.”

  “Holy shit, Wolf!” I’m a mite jumpy. I put my gun away. Funny how it appears in my hand at times like this. Comforting.

  Wolf is already walkin’ over to look at Shaz.

  “Shaz, girl. Wolf here, need to wake.”

  Shaz moans and rolls her head. After a minute or two, Wolf picks her up in a fireman’s carry and heads off. Bitch and I follow. Wolf has found a game trail which makes it easier going with his load. After a long walk, we arrive at the crick. We take handfuls of water and dribble them in Shaz’ mouth. And have a drink ourselves. The air draining down the draw is turning cool. Wolf rubs her arms and I her legs to encourage circulation.

  Then, he hefts her onto his shoulder again and we head for T’ree Forks. The wind howls above the trees. Spud shows up on horseback when we are partway there. Wolf hands Shaz up to him.

  “Good timing, brother,” says Wolf.

  “Careful,” I say, standing on the off side in case she slips across.

  Spud balances her in the saddle in front of him. She is a limp rag doll. As her hair falls back from her forehead, we can see the dried blood on her scalp.

  We set off, a chilled and somber group, anxious to get to shelter.

  We get to Mose’ camp. He is there alone, splitting wood for the fire.

  “Hallo the camp!” yells Spud.

  Mose turns around, spots us and says, “Mah gal, dat mah gal!”

  He comes running over and holds his arms up. Spud lowers the girl into them.

  “Oh, Shaz, honey. It okay now, Mose got ya. Dese fine friends of ours bring you back. Y’awl home now. Come on, I take you inside. Ever’thing be fine.”

  He carries her inside and lays here on her warm buffalo robe bed. He has tea and soup going. Mose wraps her in blankets and tries to get fluids into her.

  I tell them how I found Shaz.

  Spud says. “After we left you, Wolf and I found tracks. We each followed ‘em a different direction. Me headin’ off to the south. Wolf backtracking toward Quartz Crick.”

  “How many?” I ask.

  “Only one,” says Spud.

  “I find you. No, not find, just followin’ sign. Run into you,” says Wolf. “Girl mighty thirsty, head bump, bad news.”

  “Yep,” I say. “Least ways she opened her eyes, focused ‘em on Mose. That’s a good sign.”

  “Spirits help her,” says Wolf.

  “Maybe our guy got no friends left,” I say hopefully. “What with the trouble in town.”

  “Hm. Cross fingers,” says Wolf.

  Shaz opens her eyes for a minute, looking at Mose, and then rolls over and sleeps.

  “Y’awl best sleep, too,” says Mose, looking at us. “I watch her.”

  “Mose?” I ask. “Where is Buzz?”

  “Don’ know, we talk a while, then split up.”

  “He be okay out there?” asks Spud.

  “Hell, he tougher than toads.”

  “Toads?”

  “Yes’m.”

  “Okay, toads.”

  “G’night y’awl,” says Mose with a smile.

  As we step outside, I almost trip over Bitch. We step back and watch. Bitch is anxiously sniffing the teepee flap.

  “Worried about Shaz. I’m thinkin’,” I say.

  “I’ll go out on watch,” says Spud, nodding in agreement. “You sleep.”

  Wolf says, “Wolf spell brother half night.”

  “Okay,” says Spud.

  “Half night? Toads?” I mumble, shaking my head. “Crazy Rockers.”

  The brothers have their backs turned. Both are pissing.

  “Like I never saw those bef
ore,” I say sarcastically.

  No one is listening. After they finish shakin’ ‘em off, Wolf and I head to bed in a teepee. Spud heads for the lookout rock.

  26 Paradise Lost