The Picture Ranch 60

We pulled over right in the middle of all that nowhere, where the mesquite looks like it's been screen-printed on a dirt background. Moose was still out. He didn't move when the dame slammed on the anchors, I rolled all the way to the tailgate. It hurt. The brunette had parked the truck on an incline. She dropped the tailgate and laughed when I fell out, landing next to her fancy-schmancy riding boots.

'Get up.' She said.

This time the Colt's barrel did move, waving me away from the rear of the truck while she stepped sideways. The rock she tripped over was luckier for me than Rogers's had been for him. She dropped the gun and it went off, shooting a hole through the rear left tyre. There was no spare on the Chevy 1 and a 1/2-ton truck.The staked sides allowed for big loads, but they couldn't carry a spare, except on the truck bed itself. Unless it was hidden under Moose somewhere, there wasn't one. I kicked the gun away. We circled each other. The Caruso dame ended up with her back to the tailgate.

Moose brought his interlocked fists down on her collarbone. I almost didn't hear the snap over the scream.

I propped the dame against the rear wheel on the shady side of the truck. She didn't scream this time, but it must have hurt. Her glazed eyes told me she probably hadn't felt pain like it. I guessed she hadn't any kids.

'She shot the tyre, Moose.'

'Might get a mile before we're on the rim.' He spat, the liquid hitting the dust beside the woman. She didn't flinch.

'Don't know what the shit was, but ma mouth ain't thankin' them for it.'

The Caruso dame mumbled something. I squatted down beside her.

'You'll die out here, Not-Rogers. Just like he would have.'

'Your prospects ain't so shiny.'

'Them's the breaks.' She jerked her head to the rear, over the shoulder opposite her shattered collarbone,

'There's some of the stuff we gave you in the cab. The needle's in there too. We thought we might need more for Bluto over there.'

'So what?' I said.

'You could shoot me up, then yourselves. It's better than dyin' of thirst.'

'Someone might come down the road.' Moose shrugged.

She laughed and regretted it.

'Who was the dope for? Chicago boys?' I asked her.

'Me. Well, sorta.'

'Sorta? What does that mean?'

'I know Lucky. It was a favour. I done him plenty.' She coughed, regretting that too.

I went to check out the cab to see if there was anything useful in there. There was half a canteen of water and a map. It showed The Picture Ranch on the edge of the big nowhere that we were stranded in, and two black pencil strokes. The 'X' marked a spot alright, but it was ten miles away from the dirt road we were on and there was nothing around it for at least that far again. I took the map to Caruso, but she'd passed out.

'I could carry her,' Moose said.

'That's up to you, but she gets no water.'

I handed him the junky's works,

'Don't stick yourself with the needle when we have to leave her behind.'