Dangerous Blondes: A Star File

Chapter 1

She woke face down in the grass, her body racked with pain. After failing to rise she turned and lay on her back gazing at a foggy starless night. Headlights from a smoking automobile cut through the gloomy scene. She raised her right hand surprised to find she was clutching a gun. Out of sheer instinct she ejected the clip and counted the rounds remaining. Six. For some reason it was important for her to know that but she couldn’t recollect why. She pulled back on the ejector and caught the cartridge in mid air. She slid it into the clip then drove the clip home, pulled back on the ejector to load the breech, then snapped on the safety. All done in a series of slick moves taking no more than a few seconds. She slid the gun into a holster under her left arm then wondered how she knew it was there.

Getting to her feet was a chore and standing upright almost an impossible feat. After stability crept in she limped toward the car. It wasn’t upright but lay on its roof, the driver’s door open. On the rear fender, now upside down, was painted Jenny. She searched her mind for her own name but drew a blank. It must be her car so her name was more than likely Jenny.

Headlights from an oncoming vehicle washed across the scene. Not knowing why yet unable to stop herself she ran through the ditch and into the field. As if in answer that her motives were correct shots rang out in the night. She ducked and dove making herself a scant target. Running and tripping over and over again she forced herself through the gloomy darkness. Jenny felt no pain only death at her heels.

The blare of a train horn sounded, its light coming her way. She ran towards it now fully exposed to her pursuers. Another shot but it missed. How long would her luck hold out? She jumped over the tracks a second before the engine passed. Her pursuers were on the other side of the train so she wouldn’t be a target until all of the cars passed.

An open boxcar was an invitation so she jumped at it struggling to climb in. Failure was imminent until a helping hand lifted her aboard. Jenny found herself face to face with a tall dark man, his hair so oily it gleamed like black metal. Standing around the box car were a dozen smiling men all wearing clothes that looked like they should have been tossed in the garbage years ago.

It was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. She almost bailed out of the moving car then realized these men weren’t armed and the ones outside definitely were. She was jumping to conclusions based on the way they were dressed. The man standing before her had only a minute ago saved her life so she’d give them all the benefit of the doubt.

Her savior stood before her and said,

My name’s Jarrod. Welcome aboard young lady. You caught us in the middle of our evening meal. Care to dine with us tonight?

Jarrod was a big man, tall and bulky, with a deep resonating voice. His physical presence and surrounding environment suggested danger yet there was a softness to his eyes that contradicted appearances. The other faces in the background showed no menace, only a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

In the corner of the box car a fire burned inside a steel drum, the smoke escaping through a vent in the roof. On top of the steel drum hung an iron cauldron much like the ones she’d seen in movies. It swung to and fro with the momentum of the train. The car was lit by oil lamps hanging from nails bashed into the side walls.

Time stood still and there was a silence that desperately needed to be broken but she could not find the words.

As you can see this is the dining car, said Jarrod.

They all laughed then so did she. Jenny held out her hand to shake his.

Thank you for helping me and yes I’d be pleased to dine with you. As you can see I’m not dressed for the formal occasion you offer and hope that does not offend.

They all laughed again.

She’s all right, said one of the men.

She didn’t feel the least bit hungry but felt that turning him down would be an insult. He took her hand in both of his.

What’s your name young lady?

Jenny, I think.

That brought on a few chuckles, a man over the cook pot sarcastically asked,

You think? You so loaded you don’t know your own name?

Some more chuckles then another said,

Hell that’s O.K. pretty lady, I been that way all my life.

More chuckles.

She didn’t know what to say; didn’t know much of anything. She looked down at her clothes and found they weren’t in much better condition than theirs.

I think I was in a car crash tonight. I don’t remember who I am or where I belong.

Jarrod frowned.

You should let old Doc have a look at you girl. He takes care of us.

He turned and gestured to another.

Come on over Doc and check out the young lady here. She’s been in a car accident.

Jenny stared at Doc, a thin reedy black man with a stubble beard, a sad face, and when he approached had a definite limp in his stride. She would have pictured him as anything but a physician, a mortician maybe.

He didn’t return her stare, only stood face down as though ashamed or timid. The most outstanding feature about the man was the way his body shook. Shaky hand on her shoulder he said,

Please sit. I need to examine your head and neck. That’s the only area an injury can cause memory loss.

She felt uncertain getting into a position where she’d be more vulnerable than now. She sat, back against the wall, crossed her arms reaching into her jacket. Her right hand closed on the butt of her gun, her thumb on the safety. She had the distinct feeling she did that out of sheer habit and not in regard to the men staring her way. There was concern in their eyes, not lust. They stared like school children examining the birth of baby chicks fighting their way out of the shell.

Doc stood before her and reached around the back of her neck. His touch was gentle but when his fingers ran across her spine she thought she would pass out. The pain was unbearable when he ran his hand to the top of her head. She gasped and moved out of his reach then fell on her side, immobile. He helped her into a seating position. She trembled like a frightened rabbit unable to control herself.

You have damage to your spinal column. Your memory loss could be temporary but it could just as well be permanent. You need a shoulder and neck cast but won’t get that here so rest. Have some stew but don’t be surprised if you can’t hold anything down for a couple of days. The thing you need most is sleep.

He was well spoken and could have in some past life been a member of the medical profession. She wasn’t about to sleep with a dozen men staring her way, even though they showed her no ill will. A woman’s primate instinct sometimes out-rules her sense of logic especially when vulnerable.

She had a little stew but as Doc had said it all came back up. She drank a little water sitting back to the wall, hand inside her jacket clutching cold steel. All but the two cleaning the big steel pot appeared to be fast asleep. Even Doc, beside her, his head hung low, his eyes closed was dead to the world. His right hand still twitching, probably disturbed by a nightmare. That was all she remembered of the night.

Chapter 2

She was awakened by the screeching of brakes and the clanging of metal. The sun shone through the open door almost blinding her. The train was slowing, almost stopped.

Time to get off, said Doc.

He was sitting beside her. He’d probably been there all night. She felt her gun and checked herself out. She was untouched. Doc must have read her mind.

Some of these men left homes and had daughters of their own. One or two would hurt you but most would defend you with their lives. They were proud to have you for company last night. You warmed a lot of hearts with your presence young lady.

She felt like crap for the thoughts she’d had only moments ago. Some of these guys had army or naval tattoos and maybe couldn’t cut it in the so called real world. Perhaps they were forced to ride the rails not being able find work in this the worst economy since the great depression.

The men hopped off the train one by one as it ground to a halt. She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets feeling the paper that was there the night before. She trusted these hobos so followed them out of the train. The two biggest carried the iron cauldron between them. They looked like one big family on the move and maybe they were.

Half a day later they stopped under a bridge spanning a valley. They all collapsed onto the cement river banks, a small stream flowed by barely moving. Some thought that men like these had taken the easy way out but after only a night and a day she knew it wasn’t so. It was a hard life always on the move scavenging for food and shelter. She wondered why she had those thoughts. In her previous life, whatever it was, had she looked down on their kind. Maybe she wasn’t much better. Maybe she sold her body to men on the street? That thought sent a shiver down her spine and she instantly knew it wasn’t true.

She was curious about the papers in her pockets so pulled the ones in her right out first. Three twenty dollar bills and a note. She held up a twenty and said,

Hey guys, I’m buying lunch.

Two grabbed it and split. She knew they’d buy a bottle but hoped something to eat as well. Two others set up the cauldron while a few said they were going to fetch wood.

The note she was holding read,

Jackie, please pick up some bread on the way home. It was signed Sam.

Jackie had a familiar ring to it. It somehow clicked and made sense. But who was Sam? Her husband?

Hey Doc, my name’s Jackie. I don’t know the rest, but yah, Jackie it is. It feels right.

Doc chuckled and for the first time returned her gaze. The shakes had disappeared making him appear normal as any man on the street. If he’d been wearing a pressed tailor made suit he’d pass for a surgeon. Sometime during the night he’d found some pride, maybe for helping her or maybe he was perky every morning. She sat close and smiled at him attentive to every word.

It’ll happen that way. You’ll remember bit by bit and you’ll know when it’s real. Or it may come back in one great gush like being hit by a tidal wave. You’re young. You’ll be all right, I can feel it girl. Remember, you ran and caught the train. You’re in good shape and stronger than most.

That was reassuring. She smiled at him again and stuffed the note and two twenties back in her pocket. She took a ten out of her left along with two fives. There was another note and scribbled on it was, Jimmy Duke, Las Vegas. She couldn’t remember what that was about. Nothing clicked. Maybe if she found him he could tell her who she was and where she belonged.

How do I get to Vegas from here Doc?

Hitch a ride. You won’t find an empty rail car on the way there. That highway above us is Number ninety-three. Take it south until you reach fifteen. Then west to Vegas.

Thanks Doc. I have to find a man there.

Oh, you’ll find lots of those in that place.

Smart ass. I mean a particular man. His name’s in my pocket. Maybe I know him? Maybe he knows me?

The two she’d sent for food came back with a big bottle of wine and a bag of groceries. They all drank from the bottle wiping it with their palms as they passed it around. When one handed it to her she did likewise and took a big gulp. It wouldn’t be polite if she did anything else.

The stew was ready that evening and she was famished. Hunger like a wolf. She hoped the food would stay down today. She looked to Doc when they gave her a plate loaded with stew and bread.

Eat slow girl. Eat real slow, said Doc.

She did and made it last about an hour. It felt like it was going to stay down. She was munching on the last of her bread when the Sheriff’s car came. They all looked uneasy. Two officers, hands on their gun butts, strutted toward them.

I thought I told you bums never to come back. What part of that didn’t you understand?

The big man stared at them then stopped and eyed Jackie.

Are you being held against your will lady?

Jackie stood and said,

No, not at all. These are my friends.

The Sheriff walked to within a couple of feet and stared into her eyes. He was six foot and weighed about two hundred pounds. Sandy hair stuck out from under his ten gallon cowboy hat and he wore a pair of those mirror sunglasses. The man looked exactly like one she’d seen in an old movie about a chain gang. In that movie the actor was a villain and shot to death anyone even contemplating an escape. She eyed his hand on the butt of his gun and wondered if he too was about to open fire.

The sheriff was a handsome man but the ice in his voice made him anything but sexy. He was here to intimidate and harass not to enforce any state or town laws. They were all miles from the nearest houses and posed no threats to anyone. The man’s demeanor pissed her off. Something inside told her that he was no threat to her, that she could deal with men like these.

What kind of a slut would hang out with vermin like these?

He grabbed her left jacket lapel in his right hand and pushed back to show how tough and strong he was. Noise like jungle drums sounded in Jackie’s head and her breathing jacked up to double speed.

I’m going to run you in for vagrancy. For your own good. You pig.

She pulled out two twenties and waved them in front of his eyes.

I’m self supporting. I’m not a vagrant. I’ve broken no laws so let go of me, said Jackie.

He sneered then said,

You probably stole it bitch.

He gave her another shake. The jungle drums in her head, her breathing, and blood pressure went off any known scale. She grabbed the little finger of his right hand and bent it back until it snapped. He screamed and moved away from her. His deputy started to draw his pistol but stopped when he saw her .45. It was out so fast it amazed her. She’d clicked the safety off as the gun arced toward its target. A wet spot formed on the deputy’s brown pants from his crotch to his left knee. The man definitely wasn’t up to this shit. She was amazed that it didn’t faze on