it must’ve been true.
By the time I got to the last hill leading to the base of the cliffs, I could see Henry looking from side to side, trying to find where the person that had fallen might be. There was a copse of juniper to the left, and I watched as he started and then ran toward it. I was there in an instant, and what I saw was like some surrealistic painting. I felt as if the world had been pulled out from under me, too.
Her right leg was contorted to the extreme with her foot up above her shoulder, and there were deep lacerations on one side of her body. The eyes were unfocused as she stared at the rocks above, and her head lunged involuntarily, the brain attempting to send signals through the broken spine.
Henry kneeled beside her and cupped the side of her head in his hands, attempting to provide some kind of support without adjusting her. “Do not move.”
A breath escaped her lips as a fresh flow of tears drained down her cheeks. She gulped air into her bleeding mouth three times, then turned her head toward the Bear’s hand—and died.
I kneeled beside him and looked at her, reached up to her throat, and placed my fingers where her pulse had been. “Do you know her?”
He lowered her head and brushed back his hair with bloody fingers, the smears trailing from the corner of his eye to the clamped jaw like macabre Kabuki makeup. “No.”
Dog began barking behind us, and I yelled at him, “Shut up!”
Henry and I must’ve had the same thought at precisely the same time, because we both looked up simultaneously. From this angle, we couldn’t see anything at the top of the cliff—only a few pebbles that rained down on us that must’ve become dislodged during her fall.
I went ahead and yelled, “Hey, is there anybody up there?” My voice echoed off the rocks above and below, along with Dog’s incessant barking. “Shut up!”
I threw my head back and yelled louder this time. “Hey, is there anybody up there?” I took a deep breath and shouted again, “We’ve got a woman who’s fallen!”
Nothing, just Dog’s continued barking.
I turned and saw him standing down the hillside. “I said, shut up!”
The big beast’s head rose and cocked in a quizzical cant. After a moment, the huge muzzle dipped and nosed at something—and it was only when he gently pawed at the blanketed bundle in front of him in the high stalks of buffalo grass that I finally saw the tiny hand and heard a baby cry.
Also by Craig Johnson
The Cold Dish
Death Without Company
Kindness Goes Unpunished
Another Man’s Moccasins
The Dark Horse
Hell Is Empty
Forthcoming from Viking:
As the Crow Flies
By the time I got to the last hill leading to the base of the cliffs, I could see Henry looking from side to side, trying to find where the person that had fallen might be. There was a copse of juniper to the left, and I watched as he started and then ran toward it. I was there in an instant, and what I saw was like some surrealistic painting. I felt as if the world had been pulled out from under me, too.
Her right leg was contorted to the extreme with her foot up above her shoulder, and there were deep lacerations on one side of her body. The eyes were unfocused as she stared at the rocks above, and her head lunged involuntarily, the brain attempting to send signals through the broken spine.
Henry kneeled beside her and cupped the side of her head in his hands, attempting to provide some kind of support without adjusting her. “Do not move.”
A breath escaped her lips as a fresh flow of tears drained down her cheeks. She gulped air into her bleeding mouth three times, then turned her head toward the Bear’s hand—and died.
I kneeled beside him and looked at her, reached up to her throat, and placed my fingers where her pulse had been. “Do you know her?”
He lowered her head and brushed back his hair with bloody fingers, the smears trailing from the corner of his eye to the clamped jaw like macabre Kabuki makeup. “No.”
Dog began barking behind us, and I yelled at him, “Shut up!”
Henry and I must’ve had the same thought at precisely the same time, because we both looked up simultaneously. From this angle, we couldn’t see anything at the top of the cliff—only a few pebbles that rained down on us that must’ve become dislodged during her fall.
I went ahead and yelled, “Hey, is there anybody up there?” My voice echoed off the rocks above and below, along with Dog’s incessant barking. “Shut up!”
I threw my head back and yelled louder this time. “Hey, is there anybody up there?” I took a deep breath and shouted again, “We’ve got a woman who’s fallen!”
Nothing, just Dog’s continued barking.
I turned and saw him standing down the hillside. “I said, shut up!”
The big beast’s head rose and cocked in a quizzical cant. After a moment, the huge muzzle dipped and nosed at something—and it was only when he gently pawed at the blanketed bundle in front of him in the high stalks of buffalo grass that I finally saw the tiny hand and heard a baby cry.
Also by Craig Johnson
The Cold Dish
Death Without Company
Kindness Goes Unpunished
Another Man’s Moccasins
The Dark Horse
Hell Is Empty
Forthcoming from Viking:
As the Crow Flies
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