Lying In Wait
“Kid?” Hannibal Heyes’ voice called into the darkness.
A muffled noise came from the shadows.
“That you down there, Kid?” Heyes checked.
Lifting the window’s latch, Heyes lowered himself in, crumpling into a heap on the dirt floor below. “Deeper drop than I thought,” he said to himself as he brushed off. “How long you been down here?”
“Mph!” This time, an irritated, blue-eyed glare accompanied the articulation.
Heyes moved to loosen the yellow bandana that covered Kid Curry’s mouth.
The Kid licked at dry lips. “I said I been down here all month!”
“You’ve been held hostage in Maz’s cellar all month? You mean those messages she sent about the two of you going out for fancy coffee were all lies?” Heyes asked, untying his partner.
“Oh, there was fancy coffee alright. Lots of it. Only she brought it here.”
“Starbuck’s.” The Kid held his head as if it ached. “Talk about a caffeine hangover! Double-chocolaty-java-chip-frappuccino…” Curry muttered. “Those things are addictive!” he growled.
Heyes shushed him.
“Just look at me!” he whispered angrily, pointing toward his mid-section.
Heyes took note of Curry’s belt buckle, loosened two notches.
“I must’ve put on ten pounds!”
“Maybe Maz thought you needed some fattening up.”
“Yeah, like a Thanksgiving Turkey before the slaughter. You see what she’s been writin’ for July’s challenge?”
Heyes shook his head.
“Trust me, you don’t want to. Just get me outta here! I feel like a deer trapped in a cougar’s den, her lyin’ in wait upstairs, just hopin’ I’ll make a run for it, so she can sink those type-writin’ claws of hers into me.”
“You’ve been trapped in a cougar’s den alright, Kid,” Heyes chuckled. “But you’re safe now. Ghislaine and Grace are outside, waiting to collect their bandana and see us back to the States.”
Curry struggled to the window above, while Heyes pushed from below. From outside, Ghislaine and Grace each pulled on one of the slightly plumper outlaw’s arms.
“Dang, Kid! You fit in here, you gotta be able to get out!” Heyes pushed harder.
“Not with what she’s been feedin’ me.”
“It wouldn’t have been honey, by any chance, would it?”
“Never mind!” Heyes grunted and shoved.
“Finally!” Grace cried, as the Kid popped free from his dungeon. She clasped her hands together as if in grateful prayer. “He’s mine!”
“HE might be yours,” Ghislaine reminded, gesturing with a twist of her head toward the dark-haired outlaw, stealthily emerging from the cellar window. “But HE’S mine!”
“Ladies, please,” Curry cut in from his prone position, sprawled in the flowerbed. “Must I remind you again?” He waved a soggy scarf like a flag of surrender. “It’s the YELLA BANDANA you all compete for every month, not US!”
“Right,” agreed Heyes.
Ghislaine and Grace shared a wink. “Right!”
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.