Cowgirl Cathy

For Cathy, sundown was the best part of the day. Still light enough for her to see the world but close enough to night for it to seem calm and peaceful. She liked nothing more than to rest against one of the large rocks that littered this part of the American Mid-West, and watch as the world slowly sank into inky blackness of night.

     She tipped up the rim of her Stetson, having pulled over her eyes. She didn't need it now the sun was about to set. She smiled as she heard an impatient grunt from her horse, telling her it was time to go home. She got up and began to wipe the dust off of her jean mini shorts, red and white chequered shirt over a white tank top and brown, knee high cowboy boots. She reaffixed her belt, making sure her pistol and her lasso were still in place. She took one last longing look at the desert scenery, soaking up the last warm rays of sunlight on her wavy blonde hair and tanned arms and legs.

    "Come on Franklin, time to go home," she said to her horse as she mounted the saddle. Franklin seemed to nod in approval, before he began to slowly trot along the path that led home. Cathy patted him on the neck as they went. He had been her horse since she was twelve, and eight years later she was proud to call him one of her best friends. And friends were always hard to come by in this area.

    'Cowgirl Cathy' was what her fellow school kids had called her when she was growing up, and it had stuck. It didn't help that all she had wanted to do from a young age was help her father on her ranch. Now she didn't have to go to school any longer she spent most of her time tending to the cattle or riding Franklin. She barely went into the nearest town anymore. Her dad thought it a bit strange, that a beautiful young woman like her wouldn't want to broaden her horizons and see the world. He didn't understand that Cathy already was seeing plenty of the world, and didn't need to go to college or get a desk job to expand her horizons. She was more than happy surrounded by the great expanse of scrubby desert that her family's ranch was situated in.

     She could see it outlined against the darkening sky as she approached. It wasn't the biggest ranch in the area, but they had a decent sized herd and, with a lot of hard work, made enough money to get by comfortably. The house was made out of wood and was big enough to fit a family of eight. It was just her and her dad occupying it these days, ever since her mother had died when she was a little girl. He was currently away trying to buy some more stock, so Cathy was looking forward to a quiet evening in front of the television with a roaring log fire to keep her warm.

    Yet before she could properly tie Franklin to his post she paused. She could tell something wasn't right. She could hear the sound of the cattle calling out frantically. Something had them spooked. "Wait here boy," she told Franklin, before making her way over to the boundary of the field in which some of the herd were kept.

     When she saw two massive trucks in the middle of the field she froze. Her dad didn't own a truck that big, or the three pick-up trucks that were circled around it. Then she saw at least five men armed with cattle prods herding the cattle into the back of them. There could only be one explanation; cattle rustlers.

    She didn't have time to waste. The police would never arrive in time. It was down to her and her alone. She reached for the pistol in her belt. She had been trained how to use it and was a very good shot, though all she intended to do was try to scare them off. She aimed her pistol up into the air and fired a single shot into the sky.

    The cattle rustlers stopped what they were doing but did no more, simply staring at her. This irritated Cathy intensely. This was her property, and she would be damned if some band of lowlife crooks were going to treat it as their own. She leapt over the fence and ran towards them, still brandishing her pistol.

     "Just what the hell are you doing on my property?" she bellowed.

     The rustlers again failed to move. Their boss, a man with a stubbly beard dressed in a black leather jacket, stepped off of the pick-up truck he was standing on and sauntered his way towards her. He gave a smile that revealed several of his teeth were missing, and then said "What can I do for you missey?"
    
"You can get off of my property and return my cattle to their field. That's what you can do for me!" Cathy yelled at him, stopping in her tracks and pointing the gun directly at his head.

    His toothless smile not disappearing he said "easy now lady. You sure you have what it takes to use that thing?"

     Cathy felt a wave of frustrated anger welling up inside of her. This man was taunting her, ignoring her threats purely on the basis that she was a young woman. Giving an indignant snort she fired another shot into the ground just inches away from his feet. Seeing how startled he looked when he jumped back she laughed, "Don't try me. I don't look much but I know how to handle myself in the company of people like you."

   For the first time the boss put his hands in the air, at which some of his men did the same. "Ok missey, there's no need for all this unpleasantness" he replied calmly. "Just tell us what you want us to do."

    "I want you and your band of crooks to get back in your trucks and never come back! Go now and I won't tell the police until tomorrow morning."

    The smile returned to the bosses face as he stared back at her defiantly. "Well we have a problem missey. Because this is a fine herd you have here, far too good to be wasted on a little old ranch like this. And I don't think you're going to be in much of a position to bargain pretty soon."

    "Yeah right, am I supposed to feel threatttmmmmgggg!" Cathy began, but was cut off by a hand clamping firmly over her mouth.

     She had been concentrating on the boss so intensely that she failed to see a member of his gang slowly creeping behind her. The first time she realised was when he grabbed her, and by that point it was too late. With his other hand he grabbed her wrist, twisted it painfully forcing the gun out of her hand, before pulling it behind her back.

    "GGGGGNNN OOOOOFFFF HHHHMMMM MMMMMGGG" Cathy yelled into the hand placed over her lips, tugging at it with her free hand while kicking at his shins. Yet she couldn't break free. The man's grip was like a vice.

     The boss gave a loud cackle as he picked up her gun and tucked it into his own belt. "Hank, Piers, you want the pleasure of corralling this young lady?"

    Cathy's eyes widened as two of his men began to approach her, unravelling lengths of thick brown rope in their hands. She thrashed and bucked in an attempt to break free, but she made no progress. The man called Hank grabbed her free hand and pulled it behind her back against the other. She felt one hand being crossed over the other before he used the rope to tightly lash them together. He used more coils than was probably necessary, and knotted it so tight that Cathy could barely suppress her pain induced yelp.

    Meanwhile the man called Piers began to wind another length of rope around her upper body, above and below her breasts, then wrapping it over her shoulders and around the back of her neck. Cathy moaned as her upper arms were welded into her sides, the feelings of constriction around her chest increasing with each pass he made.

    As he began to knot the ropes Cathy realised she needed to get out of here fast. If they expected her to stand and take this, then they were going to have another thing coming. Summoning all her strength she thrust her head back into the man holding her, and heard him give an agonised cry as it made contact with his nose. She felt his grip loosen and somehow managed to struggle away. She kicked Hank in the shins but didn't hang around to watch him hobble away in pain. She immediately ran off back to the ranch, desperate to put as much distance between these freaks and her as possible.

    Cathy had always been a fast runner, and had no problem running across rough terrain, even when wearing boots. But with her upper body tightly trussed she couldn't build up enough momentum. Despite running as fast as she could she soon heard the sound of footsteps gaining on her. Then she felt a pair of hands grab her by the waist and tackle her, sending her to the floor.

    She gasped as she landed on her side, with her attacker's body on top of her. Her Stetson was thrown off her head and rolled to the side, her long blonde locks spilling into her face. Growling in fury she tried to wriggle away and attempted to kick him off. "Get the hell off of me!" she bellowed as the person shifted his position so he was facing her flailing legs. Cathy resisted as much as possible but soon he had grabbed her ankles and looped more rope around them.

     As he wrapped length after length of cord around her boots the man remarked, "Nice try lady, but you ain't going nowhere!"

     "Help me!" Cathy bellowed as the knots around her ankles were cinched tightly.

     "Don't know why you're calling for help" the man remarked almost casually as he began to tie her legs above her knees with more rope. "Surely you know there ain't no-one around here for miles?"

    Cathy did know but she called out anyway, trying anything that might stop this freak trussing her up even further. "Just what do you OW hope to achieve?" she asked, grimacing as the ropes cut into the exposed skin of her upper legs.  

    "Just a tidy profit, and of course the joy of corralling a pretty thing like yourself!" the man replied as he checked all the knots binding her, ensuring they wouldn't come loose anytime soon.

    A pair of jean clad legs walked into Cathy's line of vision. The boss then knelt down and stared at her, twirling her hat around in his hands. "Nice work on her Piers. Can't have our new guest raising the alarm, can we?"

     "You are so dead when I get out of here!" Cathy snarled through gritted teeth.

    Smirking in a way that infuriated his captive the leader replied, "That'll depend on if you get out. Hogtie her!"

     Cathy felt more ropes being coiled around her bound wrists, which were pulled back to her ankles and tied off. She gasped as they pulled the ropes tight, wrenching her arms back. She tried to move and found her arms and legs were now effectively bound as one, and she couldn't move one without the other.

     The leader watched intently as her final bindings were applied. "Now we've got you all snug, you mind if we carry on stealing your herd?"

    "Go to hell!" Cathy growled.

    The boss simply laughed at her. "Anyone got anything to shut her loud mouth up?" he asked his gang.

    "All I got is this rag from my truck," the man called Hank replied.

    "Hand it over, I got a good idea of how to keep it in place."

    Cathy only began to realise what he had in mind when she saw him eyeing up the lasso attached to her belt. "No, no don't you even think about iiinnnnnngggg," she began before Hank crammed the oily tasting rag into her mouth. As this was going on the boss unhooked her lasso and unravelled it. Before Cathy had the chance to spit out the rag, the boss pushed the middle of her lasso into her mouth. He wrapped it around her head so that by the time he had finished she had five strands of rope wedged between her teeth, forcing her mouth open. The boss knotted it off underneath her hair, so that her lasso now served the purpose
of being an effective and highly uncomfortable gag.

    Their work on her now finished the rustlers turned her bound body around so she was facing their vehicles. She shouted muffled obscenities as they left her lying on the ground, in order to resume forcing the cows onto their trucks.

     As they worked Cathy struggled with all her might to get free. She knew quite a bit about knot tying herself, and could tell immediately that it would take a lot of work to loosen those binding her. She tugged against the rope connecting her wrists to her ankles, wriggled her fingers in an attempt to find a knot and struggled so hard she began rocking from side to side. Despite all her best efforts she remained tightly tied. She chewed on the rough hemp wedged in her mouth, trying to shift it enough so that it would fall out. Again it was too tightly tied, and she was unable to remove it or the rag it was holding in place.

    She cast her eyes up at the criminals stealing her livelihood. Every time they used a cattle prod and heard the subsequent cry of distress she shouted at them as loud as her gag would allow. How dare they treat her herd like that? She was filled with intense frustration at the fact that her animals were in pain and there was nothing she could do about it. Yet as time passed she began to feel a gnawing sense of unease inside of her, as she realised that she too was utterly at the mercy of these rustlers.  

    Soon every single cow was onboard the trucks and locked inside. Then the rustlers made their way back over to Cathy, and formed a huddle around her while she squirmed angrily at their feet. "What shall we do with her boss?" Hank asked.

    Giving another toothy smile the boss answered, "I've got a good idea. Put her in the back of my pick-up!"

    Cathy's eyes widened in horror as two rustlers bent down and picked her up, one carrying her by the shoulders and the other by her knees. "Lllllnnn mmmmggg gggmmmppph!" she cried angrily as she fought against them as much as she could. Her struggles achieved nothing, and soon she was dumped on the metal floor of boss's pick-up. From her position she couldn't see over the sides, but could hear the rustlers returning to their vehicles and the opening of car doors. Then one by one the trucks roared into life, with the pick-up she was trapped in the last to get going. She gave a muffled squeal as the vehicle surged forward, making her bound body slid backwards along the metal floor.

    What followed was the most uncomfortable ride of Cathy's life. Every bump and pothole in the road sent her bouncing off of the floor, causing her to strain against her bonds without even intending too. Every time they went around a corner or changed speed her body slid from one side to another. She moaned as she tried to keep her head upright, so she didn't sustain a head injury from banging it on the metal surface she was lying on.

    At first she occupied herself trying to remember what direction she was being taken, but lost count after the tenth left turn. She couldn't see any countryside or landmarks over the sides of the truck. All she could hear were the engines powering onwards, and she could only see the first few stars as they appeared in the ever darkening night sky.

    Suddenly the truck made a sharp right hand turn, and Cathy's ride became suddenly a lot bumpier. She cried out as her body was thrown and jostled against her will, her limbs being wrenched about by the ropes. She realised that they were now travelling cross country over very rough terrain. She couldn't help but be morbidly curious as to where exactly he was taking her.

    The bumpy ride continued for another fifteen minutes, until mercifully the vehicle stopped. Cathy heard the door opening and footsteps walking around, before the boss pulled down the back of his pick up. "We've arrived missey!" he announced as he picked up her body like she was an injured lamb. He carried her off the truck, walked a couple of steps and then unceremoniously dropped her to the floor from a height of about three feet.

    "Gmmmmmm," Cathy groaned as she landed awkwardly on her side, the impact sending up a small cloud of dust that got up her nose and in her eyes. She blinked the dirt away as she tried to see where she had been taken. She was on a hillside overlooking the desert scrubland, and couldn't see a single light or sign of civilization. He had taken her right out into the wilderness.

      "Pretty out here, ain't it?" the boss mused. "I often come out to lonely secluded spots like this, just to have a bit of me time. It's just you and the big wide world, and there's no chance of anyone interrupting you."

     "Nnnn tttttmmmm mmmpphh!" Cathy groaned as she shifted in her bonds, trying to find a more comfortable position in which to lie.

     Looking at her the boss continued "my boys wanted me to shoot you at the ranch, but I don't work that way. I like giving pretty damsels like yourself a fightin' chance. That's why I'm going to leave you to untie yourself."

    Cathy froze. Leave her to untie herself? In the middle of a desert?

    "The way I see it, if you can free yourself and then make it back to civilization before you become buzzard food, then you've damned well earned the right to be pardoned."

     "NNNNNNGGGG!" Cathy cried out through the ropes wedged in her mouth, for the first time beginning to feel truly scared.
     
   "I know it can get pretty cold in the desert at night, but don't worry. At least you'll warm up real quick in a few hours when the sun comes back up."

     "Pllllmmm ddddddnnnnttt dddmmm tthhhhmmm! Llllmm mmmmgg mmmmpphh!" Cathy tugged against her bonds, desperate to lash out and hit him, to prove she wasn't some helpless damsel in need of rescuing. But all she managed to do was kick up yet more dust and emit a series of muted screams, as her laughing captor returned to his vehicle.

    "Oh and by the way!" he yelled before he got back into the driving seat, "you dropped something." He then tossed her Stetson over to where she lay hogtied and watched as it rolled along the ground, coming to rest only a few inches away from her head. With one more laugh he cried, "So long missey." Then he got back into the pick-up, and after the splutter of the ignition he drove off. The wheels kicked up clouds of dust that blew over Cathy, who could only watch as he abandoned her to the wilderness.

    Immediately Cathy began struggling with all her strength to get free. She could feel the ropes around her wrists, arms and legs rubbing against her skin, as she tried desperately to pull something free. She shook her head from side to side trying to loosen her gag, but was unable to shift the cords that were now rubbing against the side of her mouth painfully. She tugged again and again at the rope keeping her wrists tied to her ankles, but it simply would not budge.

    Half an hour later and all she managed was to exhaust herself. She slumped into her bonds in frustration, not wanting to accept that she was stuck here. There had to be a way out of this. She just had to come up with a new plan and conserve her energy.

     She then remembered all those comics she had read as a girl, where the heroes were all tied up but managed to cut themselves free with a sharp object. She rolled onto her side as she ran her bound hands through the dirt, trying to find a sharp stone that she could use. She did this for minutes and couldn't find anything suitable. She grunted in frustration, thinking to herself that she had never known stones to be so smooth.

   Eventually she grasped a suitable rock; a piece of flint with sharp, dagger like edge. Knowing it would have to do, she rolled back onto her front and began rubbing it against the hogtie rope. She could tell that the ropes, while strong, were old and beginning to fray. She hoped this would mean they would be easier to cut through. Yet after fifteen minutes of effort she yielded no results.    

    "Ssssssmmmmmmttt," she shouted to herself, becoming more and more agitated. The night air was already gnawing at the exposed skin on her legs and arms, but that would be nothing compared to the intense heat of the day. She paused as she tried to recollect herself, trying not to think of what would happen if she was still lying here hogtied by tomorrow lunchtime.

    'No,' she thought to herself. 'I can do this. I just need to keep going. Don't give up Cathy!'

    She resumed her attempts to cut her hogtie rope. She laid her head on the dusty ground as her numb fingers sawed at her ropes with the flint. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she felt part of the rope begin to come apart. She redoubled her efforts, spurred on by her success. More of the rope began to fray and split until, finally it snapped.

    Cathy gave a relieved moan as her legs sprang back, stretching them out as much as she could to restore feeling to them. Now she could concentrate on getting her hands free. She hauled herself into sitting position and used the flint to rub against her wrist bonds. The way her hands were bound made it tricky, but she made progress faster than she had with the hogtie rope.

      As she worked she looked about for signs of life in the wilderness, but there were no lights, roads or houses to be seen. There was only the wasteland stretching out below, illuminated by the light of the moon. She began to wonder whether she could actually find her way home from here.  She once again forced the thought from her mind. She would deal with that later.

     With a bit more effort her wrist bonds frayed and eventually fell away. Cathy pulled her free wrists around and rubbed them, trying to restore circulation. After a serious bout of pins and needles she pulled off the ropes that had been wrapped around her upper body. Then she concentrated on untying her legs and ankles. The knots were small and difficult to pry apart, but they were nothing that she hadn't dealt with before. Soon she kicked them off, glad to be free of them at last.

    Finally she turned her attention to her lasso wrapped in her mouth. She pulled back her hair and tugged at the knot behind the back of her head. She quickly untied it, and to her intense relief felt the cords embedded in her mouth fall away. She spat out the rag as she massaged her aching jaw, while looking about at the coils of rope scattered about her. One problem down; now she had another to deal with.

    She stood up gingerly on her tender limbs, as she attempted to locate the tracks made by truck as it had pulled away. She quickly spotted them and began to follow along, pausing only to pick up her discarded Stetson. If she was still out here when the sun came out she would need all the cover she could find.

    A long trek through the wilderness was the last thing her body needed, but she had no choice. She slowly trudged on, rubbing her arms to protect them from the chill. With only the moon to light her way she had to concentrate intensely on the path she was following. But as she passed through an area of scrubland she lost the trail, and despite all her efforts she couldn't find it again.

     Her heart sinking she pushed forward through the bushes in the same direction, reasoning that eventually she would come across another track. She pressed on for what seemed like hours, though in reality was probably closer to just one. In the dead of night every bush, rock and outcrop looked identical, and eventually she admitted she was lost.

    She sat down on a rock for a rest, trying to get her bearings. She knew that trekking through the wilderness without anything to guide her way was foolhardy, but it wasn't like she had any choice. All she could do was hope she stumbled across some sign of civilization that might lead her home. Beginning to feel overwhelmed by despair, she cried out into the darkness, "If anyone is out there, please help me!"

    She didn't know what she had hoped to achieve by calling out, but something had heard her and called back in reply. Cathy wondered if the stress of her ordeal was making her imagine things. She could have sworn she heard the whinnying of a horse.

    Then she heard it again, much clearer this time. Now Cathy was sure she was imagining things. There was only one horse she knew that had a cry like that.

     "Franklin," she called out, hardly daring to believe it. "Is that you?"

     Then after waiting for a few agonising seconds Franklin appeared, galloping over the crest of a nearby hill. Cathy realised immediately he had pulled free from her hastily tied harness, but doubted she would ever discover just how he had found her in this vast wilderness. She didn't care either. All that mattered was that, when she had needed him the most, Franklin had come to her aid. With the help of her horse, traversing this terrain would be infinitely easier.

       As Franklin drew to a stop in front of her she embraced him around the neck. "Thank you boy," she murmured as she buried her head in his warm body, "Thank you so much." Franklin snorted approvingly, as if saying that it was his pleasure.

     Cathy stood stroking his neck for a minute or two, before mounting the saddle and swinging her aching legs over his back. "Let's go home Franklin," she said. "We've got a score to settle with those rustlers!"