Cowgirl Thrillers

by Barbara Neville

Four days later Lone reports in after another, longer ride. “I have ridden a rodeada, all around the country,” he says, “and finally found their camp. They are staying in that old line cabin on out in Tatonka. Seem to be a bunch of city slickers out messin’ around in our country. Never did find out what they were up to.”

  “Did you find out anything else?” I ask.

  “By the spirits, you won’t believe it. I snuck in close enough to hear them fellers, when they come back to look for the body. They are plain clothes Federals, the same ones who were in the gunfight. Turns out we were collateral damage. Annie and I spooked ‘em, and the black haired feller took a potshot. The bullet plowed a furrow in the air straight past her ear and continued on to hit his boss man across the clearing. So the bunch of them are plotting the usual snake in the grass rewrite, to save their own asses. They are going to arrest us or anyone else they can pin it on for the crime. We gotta skedaddle, any poor asshole found in these parts is gonna get framed and spend life in the penitentiary for killing this high Federal muckety muck.”

  “Can’t they just blockade and pull us over on the trail through the canyon?” I ask. “ We are boxed in here.”

  “That is exactly what could happen,” says Spud.

  “Then can we hole up at Sir Jacob’s?”

  “Naw. We need to be out there in MadDog getting our alibi fixed in place.”

  I look at Sir Jacob and say, “What about Headless and friend?”

  “Cut up, examined and disposed of, no evidence remains to be found my dear.”

  “We want to be sure they don’t stick around looking too close at things. We sure don’t want Jakey’s Hole in the Rock to be found,” says Spud.

  “So how do we get out?”

  “There’s only one way off this planet baby, and that’s with me,” says Spud with a laugh.

  “Huh?”

  “Rockchuck.

  “If we ride over the mountains to avoid the roadblock in the canyon, we will be a couple of days getting into town. If we Rockchuck it, we will be in today. They’ll figure there is no way time wise we could have been here at all. We just got to be sure and get noticed in town.”

  “Rockchuck it? What the hell is that?” I ask.

  “Oh yeah, you’re new here. Just follow me,” says Spud.

  We head into the creek and wade slowly up maybe a half mile, then we hightail it into another granite badlands maze, and by golly if there ain’t a little ship hid up in there. Just enough for five folks and their horses. We sling the horses in the hold and Spud mans the wheel. By now it has been dark a few hours and honest folk are asleep in their beds.

  “Strap in boys, and be sure your head is back against the headrest. This thing packs a wallop.

  “Ready?” asks Spud.

  “Yes sir,” I say.

  Sir Jacob handles the countdown. “3-2-1.”

  Other than the wind of movement through the air, the ship erupts from the ground noiselessly.

  “Holy moly!” I exclaim. “ My face feels purt’ near tore off! A bit of G force there, you coulda warned me.”

  “Remember the head against the head rest? That was the warning.”

  “Welcome to Sir Jacob’s rubber band air plane,” says Wolf.

  Spud drawls, “Yep, it’s a bit more G’s than airships pull on takeoff.”

  “A bit? Hah! No wonder you sling the horses,” I say.

  “Hang on, we’re going in.”

  “Where the fuck we goin’ in to?”

  “The ship,” says Spud.

  The Rockchuck docks against a Starship, who knew. Before I get untangled from the seat belt the hatch opens. We go aboard.

  “Nice big freighter,” I say. We are standing on a catwalk overlooking a huge cargo deck.

  “Needs a few things,” says Spud.

  “She’s got air.”

  “Got a mechanic to get her up and runnin’ again, and a good pilot. Here he comes.”

  A lanky feller in a space suit carrying his helmet saunters in.

  “Howdy cowboys, welcome aboard S. S. Cosmic,” he says.

  “This here is Sky. Sky, meet Annie and Michael.”

  “Howdy.”

  “Pleasure.”

  “Sky is our pilot today. And, ironically, his name is Sky Pilot.”

  “Thanks, Spud,” Sky says sarcastically. “My Ma had a plan when she named me Sky. She was a real stargazer.

  “But at the moment I am more like the maintenance crew. I’ve been going over the outer shell today, why it’s all aired up now. Plus, for me to breathe. Like they say on the water, a small leak can sink a big ship,” says Sky.

  We all stand and stare out the windshield at the stars and the Rock far below.

  Sky mumbles, “And together we shall rule the galaxy.”

  “Say what?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” Sky muses.

  Spud leads us off of the bridge and out into the cargo hold.

  As we walk Sir Jacob says, “Surely it’s not his real name?”

  “Naw. Just the Sky. I christened him with the Pilot; being, in his words, a smartass. I like to think of myself as more of a godlike figure. Maybe y’all should address me as Captain Mullens.”

  “We got one too many hoity toity royals around here already.” I snicker.

  “I beg to differ. I consider myself to bring a civilizing influence to a primitive world populated by,” says Sir Jacob as he sweeps an arm to include us all, “little more than apes.”

  “Maybe he had a different name in the Center but since he arrived here and I made the joke, that’s how he introduces himself,” says Spud.

  “That happened in the opening of new frontiers all through history. A man...”

  “Or woman,” I add meaningfully.

  Spud nods, squeezes my arm and says, “hmm.

  “...with a shady past could move out to the edge and reinvent himself. Of course in Sky’s case it’s hard to ditch the crazy.”

  “Guess that’s true of all of us. We like to think the people in the Center are crazy. But there are so many of them, if they really were crazy wouldn’t it be the tendency of the species to die off?” I ask.

  “I like to think of it as a checks and balances system. If they were all sane like ourselves who would start the wars and genocides that keep the population in check? Too many superior folk like us and we might have peace and harmony in our time,” says Sir Jacob.

  “Submits the man with at least four weapons on his person as he speaks,” says Spud.

  “Six and they’re not weapons, they’re Peacemakers. Sam Colt had it right.”

  “I like to consider them Peacekeepers myself,” say I.

  Spud waves an arm at the hold. “Fortunately, we were able to salvage this old cowboy pickup truck from a seriously wrecked condition. We pieced it back together and found a spare parts engine. Hell, she’s almost as good as gold now.

  “Nice amenities on board, we can travel in comfort. Just a few can crew her.”

  “Spud? I thought you were a wilderness rancher, horses, cows, caves, log cabins, wood stoves, what the fuck?”

  “We can deliver our own beef, not be beholdin’ to the big freight companies. They seem to eat up all our profits right now.

  “A feller’s gotta earn a living, this here will be the new Cosmic stock truck. We deliver to the carnivore worlds. Not too many of them, mostly veggers in the cosmos. I hear that before the Troubles such was not the case, though the veggers don’t tell you that. But in all them Old West tales, by golly, a barbequed burger was, still is, the real deal. Cattle ranches weren’t just for dudes to play at back in them days.

  “Like I said, we use her to deliver cattle to market. Gotta sneak in and out of the veg worlds, so the government goblins don’t find us. The carnivore worlds are not so bad, just way out at the edges of the Cosmos where the veggies don’t hold the power. Long journeys. But with warp, we can shine time on.

  “Never have to be under the boot heels of nobody again
. We get lucky and find cargo on the turn around to keep food on the table.”

  “Get her runnin’ again?” asks Wolf.

  “Yeah.”

  “Broke down now?”

  “No, she’s runnin’, just slow,” says Spud.

  “No warp speed?”

  “Not so much, she ran for a bit yesterday. Then quit.

  “Sky has her back now to where she’ll idle about some. Man’s makin’ good progress.”

  “If she can’t go nowhere, then why are we here?” asks Michael.

  I say, “This tour is interesting but I’m right confused, thought we were headed to MadDog.”

  “We are, this is just a diversion,” says Spud. “Like I said on the ground, we ride straight in out of the wilderness, looks like we could be the shooters.”

  “We are now arriving from outer space, haven’t been on the Rock for a fortnight,” says Sir Jacob. “Don’t forget.”

  “We drop in out of space. We been off prospecting the asteroids. Got mineral samples in the hold to prove it,” continues Spud. “They are here, in these bins, came with the ship.”

  “Does anyone hear a hissing sound?” asks Wolf.

  “Sky!” yells Spud.

  “I hear it,” Sky yells back. He slides down the bridge escape pole, just like a firehouse, and runs by suited up, stuffing his helmet back on. “Oh crap, excuse my French.” He passes through a hatch, dogs it down and heads for the airlock.

  After a mite he reappears.

  “Just a loose bolt in the exhaust, wrench, little caulking. No problema.”

  “Knew you were the man for the job, Sky.” Spud turns to us. “Come on everybody, let’s head down to MadDog. Catch you on the flyby Sky.”

  “Adios.”

  Holy cowpies, now I am a secret agent girl.

  16 Dim Lights, Small City