Trail Ride (11 page)

Lisa put a hand on her friend’s forehead and recoiled. “You’re burning up!” she cried.

To Lisa’s horror, Carole began to convulse. Shivering and shaking from the fever, her limbs twitched and spasmed, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned and muttered unintelligibly.

Lisa was extremely frightened, but she reached out and firmly held Carole’s head to prevent it from knocking against the ground. Time crawled by with painful slowness; Lisa’s heart seemed to pound out each and every passing second. Finally the spasms eased off and Carole fell still. Moving quickly, Lisa stripped off her jacket to make a pillow, gently slipped it under her friend’s head, then wrapped the blanket around her.

Carole’s eyes fluttered. “What happened?” she said groggily.

“It’s all right,” Lisa hastened to assure her, forcing herself to speak calmly and soothingly, in the same manner Paula had spoken to the horses that afternoon. “You’re sick, but if you go to sleep, when you wake up everything will be fine.”

Carole nodded wearily. “Have to sleep now,” she
murmured, then went out like a switched-off light-bulb.

Lisa fought off panic. She desperately needed to get help. What first aid she knew wasn’t going to be nearly enough in this emergency: Carole needed real medical care. The problem was, there was no way Lisa could get her back to the ranch, which meant she would have to leave Carole there alone while she rode for help.

“Carole, I have to go get help,” she whispered softly. “I’m coming back with a doctor, okay? I’ll be back soon.” She had no way of knowing if her friend could hear her, but she wanted to say the words anyway just in case.

Lisa hurried over to Stewball and mounted, her heart in her throat and her stomach twisting with anxiety. “It’s going to be all right, Carole,” she called as she rode off into the night. “I promise.”

Behind her under the blanket, with only the cold stars to watch over her, Carole lay still as death.

L
ISA DOUBLED BACK
the way they had come earlier that night. Her plan was to return to the ranch as fast as possible. As she rode, she was haunted by visions of what might happen to Carole while she was gone. Her friend could have another seizure and swallow her tongue, or a poisonous snake might bite her, or a hungry coyote drawn to the scene by her moans—Lisa couldn’t bear to finish the thought. This was truly a nightmare.

At the point in the trail where Lisa was supposed to turn her back to the canyon and ride away from it, she spotted a light in the darkness below. Not trusting her eyes, wondering if it might only be wishful thinking,
she blinked and waited until she saw it again. Someone was down at the dig site.

Of course
, she thought.
Professor Jackson mentioned they were getting ready to move some of the artifacts to the museum. They’re probably working overtime in the cool of the night to do it.
She felt a warm rush of relief. Surely someone would have a cell phone or radio she could use. It would cut the time for help to arrive in half!

Lisa turned Stewball around. Although he seemed somewhat reluctant to comply, she firmly insisted. “I’m the boss here, kiddo.”

She couldn’t really blame him for not wanting to traverse that steep and narrow trail down to the canyon floor. It had been treacherous enough in broad daylight, but this was an emergency. Trying not to think about the consequences of a fall, she urged Stewball forward. Carefully and painstakingly the courageous horse worked his way downward. Once she felt him slip and her heart lurched, but he quickly recovered and continued on.

By the time they made it to the bottom, Lisa was in a cold sweat, and she figured she had used up every one of the wishes coming to her from that night’s meteor shower. At the base of the trail she decided to leave Stewball behind, knowing that with the canyon floor
roped off for the dig, it would prove a nasty maze for the horse to try to negotiate by moonlight. She’d actually be able to move faster on foot. The only trouble was there was nothing to tie him to. She knew many cow ponies would ground tie—that was dropping the reins and telling the horse to stay put—but she wasn’t sure Stewball was one of them. If he wandered back up the hill without her, she would have to climb back up on foot.

She took the horse by both sides of his bridle and looked him in the eyes. “Stay here, Stewball,” she told him firmly. “Wait for me here. Stay.” She didn’t know if it was necessary to use certain key words, but there was no point in worrying about it—she’d find out soon enough if it worked. Slipping the reins over his head, she dropped them on the ground in front of him. “Stay.” Then she backed away around the boulder and ran toward the lights.

Lisa was surprised by the amount of activity in the camp. The pace was definitely more frantic than it had been during the day. A man hurried by her and she tried to get his attention. “Can you help me, please? My friend—” He rushed past, ignoring her completely.

Desperate to get help, Lisa made her way across the site toward the tents. She tried several times to get
someone to stop and talk to her, but nobody would stand still long enough for her to explain her situation. She didn’t recognize anyone from her last time there, either. She couldn’t find Joanne, and Professor Jackson was nowhere in sight.

Eventually she spotted a small knot of adults standing in the light of a Coleman lantern, passing a bottle and laughing. She was determined to make them listen to her this time. “I need help!” she said firmly and clearly as she strode up. “My friend needs a doctor.”

All four men looked severely startled to see her there. One of them, a fat man with a big black mustache, stepped forward. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he said sharply. “This is private property!”

“I’m a friend of Professor Jackson’s. I need help. My friend is sick. Can you take me to him?”

Two workers came staggering out of the tent laden down with a large crate. One of them stumbled over a rope, and the box went crashing to the ground.

“You idiot!” screamed the man she had been talking to. “See that you’re more careful, or I’ll have your hides! Those are priceless.”

“Well, not quite priceless,” Lisa heard one of the others snicker as they hurried over to check on the contents.

That was when it hit her. These people weren’t with the dig, they were poachers. Archaeological thieves, stealing the professor’s finds!

She realized at once that she was in serious trouble. If they were criminals, then she was an eyewitness. Slowly, while the men were still focused on the dropped box of dinosaur bones, she began to creep away. She managed to back almost out of the circle of light without drawing their attention, then she slipped on a loose rock and fell heavily to the ground. At once, all eyes were focused on her.

“Get her!” someone shouted.

With a scream, Lisa scrambled to her feet and fled, running as fast as she could, leaping over ropes and rocks. She could hear her pursuers yelling behind her; one man sounded alarmingly close. She risked a glance back over her shoulder and screamed again. A man with a nasty scar across his cheek was reaching out for her. She dodged left and leaped across a pit. Behind her she heard the man fall, hit the ground, and swear harshly. She redoubled her efforts. If she could reach Stewball, she’d have a good chance of escaping. But would he still be there?

The last twenty yards to the big boulder felt like miles, but she finally rounded the corner and her heart
jumped. Stewball was standing patiently, exactly where she had left him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gasped, running to his side. She was afraid he might spook and bolt, but she dared not take the time to approach him properly. The horse rolled his eyes and shuffled nervously but stood his ground.

In a flash she was in the saddle, and none too soon. The men charged around the corner, shouting angrily in Spanish. She didn’t understand their words, but she understood their intentions. “Go, Stewball, go!” she cried.

As the horse started forward, one of the men dived at him. “Got him!” he shouted.

Lisa looked back to see him clinging desperately to Stewball’s tail with both hands.

“No!” she shouted.

She felt the horse lurch beneath her as he kicked out with both hind feet. There was a loud cry of pain, and suddenly they were free, scrambling and stumbling up the path. Within moments Lisa heard the voices behind her receding into the distance. “Atta boy!” she called to the horse.

Heart racing in her chest, Lisa slowed the pinto to a safer pace, working her way back up the steep trail from the canyon floor. Five minutes later she had cleared the top and stopped to get her bearings. The sound of an
approaching car engine caught her attention. Not twenty-five yards away, a Jeep rolled to a halt. Filled with relief, she was about to call out when something stopped her. Was it possible that whoever had arrived was not friendly, but actually more poachers?

In the next instant her worst fears were realized.

“Check over there!” someone yelled. “She couldn’t have gotten out of here yet.”

The thieves had clearly radioed ahead and their colleagues had come to cut her off. Lisa quickly considered her options. She couldn’t go directly to the ranch because they were blocking the path. She couldn’t go to the left because that would lead them to Carole. Her only choice was to lead them away.
If I can get them to follow me
, she thought,
maybe I can circle around them farther ahead.

At that moment there was a shout and one of the men pointed in her direction. Without hesitation she whirled Stewball around and urged him into a mad gallop. Traveling at breakneck speeds over unfamiliar ground, at the edge of a sheer cliff in the pitch-black of night, was enormously dangerous, especially on a horse she had never ridden before, but she didn’t feel she had a choice. Moments after she took off, she heard the Jeep start up and knew the men were in pursuit.

Lisa didn’t dare look back—it was taking every ounce of concentration simply to stay in the saddle. The path she had chosen was getting narrower and narrower, and, to her dismay, there was a steep drop on either side of her. Any hopes she’d harbored about slipping off onto a side trail were dashed.

A moment later Lisa heard the Jeep grind to a stop. Pulling Stewball to a halt, she listened. The men were arguing loudly; apparently the trail was too narrow for the Jeep. For a moment she felt her hopes soar, and then she saw three figures step into the headlights. They were carrying guns.

“Give it up, little girl,” one of them called. “There’s nowhere to go from there. It’s a dead end.”

Straining her eyes against the darkness, Lisa scanned the path ahead. She had no idea if they were telling the truth, and she certainly had no reason to believe anything they might say, so she urged Stewball into a fast walk to put some distance between her and the thieves.

Within fifty feet, however, the horse came to a halt and refused to move. Looking in front of her, Lisa felt like bursting into tears. The path simply ended, and all she could see beyond was blackness.

The men followed, slowly moving closer. “Come on,
little girl, we’re not going to hurt you. We only want to talk to you.”

“Besides, the only way down is the hard way!” one of the others hollered.

They moved at an almost leisurely pace, as though certain of the outcome of the chase.

The sound of their laughter enraged and frightened Lisa. “Leave me alone!” she screamed, tears blurring her vision. “I just want to go home!”

Then, to her complete horror, she felt Stewball lurch beneath her, and the two of them went over the cliff.

L
ISA SCREAMED AS
she felt the horse jump. A second later Stewball hit the ground and she was thrown forward, the saddle horn ramming her in the stomach and knocking the wind out of her. She clutched frantically at the knob, trying to keep herself from pitching forward over the horse’s neck. Rocks and shale slid all around her, tumbling down the face of the cliff. Stewball gave one more lurch forward and then stood still.

Lisa looked wildly around. To her left was the sheer rocky wall of the cliff, close enough to touch. To her right, a mind-numbing abyss. She risked a cautious look behind and saw a pile of loose rock. With his night vision, Stewball had known what she had not: There was
an old, virtually unused trail down here. Apparently when she had yelled that she wanted to go home, he had taken her at her word and took the fastest route.