I continue down the trail, whistling quietly for confidence.
I feel alone among enemies. Crystal has it in for me for sure. I look over at her. She looks like shit. The fight with Zeb seems to have taken it out of her. Her lipstick is smeared, there is more on her chin than her lips. That cheers me up.
So, I think more pleasant thoughts. Funny, what comes to mind as I daydream.
Hell, I like Buzz. Might even want to get to know him up close and personal. He is a good lookin’ fella, and not too much older than me. Slim, broad shoulders, even has a tight little ass on him and dimples. And he has the most important of all male attributes. He is taller than me. Short men are generally scared of a gal who is big enough to throw them across the room.
Mysterious, too. Besides, alien strange? Ooh ta! Never had that, far as I know anyway. And I just recently knocked out twins. Aliens could be my next frontier should the twins lose interest. Never hurts to have a spare lined up in the wings.
I get some jerky outta my shirt pocket and chew fer a while. Hell, I even hand some to Crystal who sucks and chews noisily. Than other two are sleeping. I settle back into enjoying the walk and our goal of journey’s end in a warm dry indoors. Plus a hot bath, in Sir Jacob’s giant tub. Maybe a nice soak with a handsome man. Yah huh!
‘Bang. Bang. Bang.’
“Shit.” Do things go to hell ever’time I think about sex?
Naw, not that often.
The shots are not too close. I am down in a dry crick bed. Can’t see a thing. Don’t know if I should swim or tread water.
I listen for a couple of minutes. I can’t really climb a hill, nothing solid to tie the horses to here. So I start walking again. I trust that Wolf has things well in hand. And I still have sick folks to get to some kind of help. Standing still is bad for them. of course, moving into a line of fire could get them shot.
I remind myself to not whistle anymore. No need to advertise our presence. I do have my rifle in my hand. When did I get it out? Reflexes, gotta love ‘em.
“Psst.”
I look around. There is a tall blonde heavily built man with a six shooter pointed right at me. He has on a tousled gray suit and a narrow brimmed city slicker hat. He looks like he used to have muscles forty pounds ago.
“Why Roxanne, your are just as beautiful as ever. Drop the gun, please,” he says.
“Mitch, you double crossin’, two faced bastard. You got fat.” I chuckle and add, “And Crystal is dressing you now. The woman has no taste.”
“Drop it now, Roxanne. I really will shoot you.”
“What happened to undying love?”
“I ain’t kiddin’, Roxy.”
“Look, Mitch…”
“Turn me loose honey,” says Crystal.
“You drop it,” comes a whisper.
Mitch startles and looks back toward the sound.
Wolf has his rifle barrel in Mitch’s back.
Mitch drops it. I walk over and tie his hands behind his back. We gag both he and Crystal. Then without a word Wolf leaves us and heads up the hill.
At the top, he scans around. He signals me to join him and then looks back the way we are headed. He has his rifle at the ready. There is a bush nearby, so I tie Joe and Jinx to it. And tie Crystal and Mitch to separate trees a ways away.
The patients are still asleep for the most part. Long day for them, in not the smoothest of conveyances.
I head up the hill, crawling the last bit to join Wolf. I stop just before I skyline out. Wolf turns and holds a finger to his lips. He looks around some and then he motions me up. I doff my hat and peek over. I look where he is looking, but see nothing. He catches my eye, saying nothing. So I follow suit, quietly watching and listening.
After a long hour, probably only five minutes, someone in the distance says something that sounds like, “Is he dead?”
I don’t recognize the voice. Dead? Who? Damn it.
I hear a noise off to the right. I turn, keeping my rifle ready. Down the hill is Michael. He waves at us. I touch Wolf and he turns.
He and Michael exchange some sign language and we head down to join him.
“The wagon is just a ways further along,” he says quietly, as he hugs me hello. We walk around a bend in the trail to our horses and all.
“Oh. Look. It’s my favorite flaming faggot.”
Michael spins around, ready to fight. He says, “Crystal? Mitch? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Sorry,” I say to Michael, “she slipped the gag. I should have killed them both when I had the chance on Terrania.”
“Seems like maybe I was the one who talked you out of it,” he replies. “Damn it.”
Crystal smiles her evil smile at him. Me? Naw, I’m not prejudiced against the bitch one bit. Her smile is purely evil.
“Hey, how about an orange gag?” Michael asks. He takes out his orange handkerchief and stuffs it in her mouth. Then removes his scarf, and ties it around her head to hold the gag in. He hands my gag back. It is all drool. I gag and stuff it in a saddlebag.
“It’s not just me,” I say to Wolf. “Michael doesn’t like her either.”
Wolf nods sagely.
“Safe to go?” Wolf asks Michael.
“Spud went up to check on the gun shots, we can start walking,” says Michael. “Sir Jacob has the wagon just down the way.”
We untie the horses and head on down the draw. In about a mile we get to Sir Jacob. I hold the team while he rushes over to take a quick look at each of the patients.
As he approaches Crystal, I say, “Careful of her, she is a slippery bitch.”
“Spud said that you had found someone you knew from another planet,” says Sir Jacob.
“Yep, Crystal. Knew and hated every inch of her stinking guts. And his too.” I point at Mitch. “Bastard’s name is Mitch.”
“Oh my,” says Sir Jacob. He walks over and shakes Mitch’s tied hand. The he holds and looks at it more closely.
“Who hurt you?” he asks.
“Oh.” Mitch starts, hesitates, then says, “um. You know, it’s Crystal, she’s an animal between the sheets.”
“What was the shooting about?” I ask.
Sir Jacob looks at me and shrugs.
“Not us,” he says. “Planet’s getting crowded.”
“No shit,” I whisper.
“Load this one on the wagon,” he says, gesturing at Zeb. We untie and lift him onto the bed of the spring wagon. Jacob gets out some doctor tools and does a more thorough examination. He and Michael discuss the results.
Wolf and I, meanwhile, are unloading Trixie. We lift the travois off of the saddle. I offer her water. She sits up and takes it with a grateful smile. Then she lies back down, looking pale and tired. We look over at the wagon. The doctors are busy.
Wolf says, “I go help Spud.” He tosses the travois and everything except the saddle and bridle off of Jinx and mounts up. I can see him scanning the trail as he leaves, looking for Spud’s horse tracks.
I walk over to check on the doctor team. They are consulting intently. Soon they are getting out more instruments. They look at me.
“He needs surgery. Now,” says Sir Jacob.
“Man, you guys love to cut on people, living and dead.”
Michael smiles and shrugs.
“If you don’t need me, I’ll get things packed up to travel.”
“Good.”
Michael is opening Zeb’s shirt and pants.
I go back to the travois and start the repacking. I tie small items to Joe’s saddle. Then I start unloading things from the two travois and setting them next to where we will load them on the wagon after the surgery. I stay out of the way of the surgeons and leave a space for Trixie to lay next to Zeb.
After I finish, I check on the surgeons again. They seem to be closing him up.
I say to Michael, “He okay?”
“Fingers crossed that he will be, young lady,” says Michael.
He is washing his hands in a bowl of what
looks more like blood then water. He tosses it out, pours in clean water and repeats.
“He was lucky the bullet missed most everything, just a couple of bleeders to tie off,” he says.
“Bullet?”
Sir Jacob nods.
When they are done, we get everything stowed. I have just enough room left in the saddle to ride Joe.
“Bullet?” I ask again.
“Yeah. Who shot him?”
“There was no shootin’ that I know of,” I say. “Oh. Wait. There was one, no, two shots while they were fighting. Nobody ever said anything about him bein’ shot though. Not even him. He was worried about the ankle.”
“That can happen during a fight, probably felt like a punch when it happened and then his ankle and the rest hurt worse,” Sir Jacob says. “Let’s load Trixie and get moving.”
We carry Trixie over and lift her into the wagon bed.
“Right, we are off. We have much better facilities at home,” says Sir Jacob.
“How long a ride is it?” I ask as I mount up.
Sir Jacob looks at the sky. “We shall be there before dark, if we hurry.”
“I should go help the boys, in case they found the guys making those tracks,” I say.
“No. If the shot one…Zeb?…goes shocky, he may convulse. It could take us all three to hold him,” says Sir Jacob as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “Stay with us.”
“Oh, okay,” I say. I put Mitch and Crystal on each side of the wagon back near the tailgate and tie them to nearby ‘O’ rings.
I mount Joe. Michael climbs into the back of the wagon to keep an eye on the patients and prisoners. Sir Jacob shakes up the ribbons and we are off at the trot.
I must say, it feels damn good to be back in the saddle and covering ground.
40 Homeward Bound
Cowgirl Thrillers Page 93