Cyber Kittens and Cowboys (16 page)

“Bullshit, Preston!” Geneva bites,
sharply.

“Okay, you tracked Pamela, here.” Preston
nods, once, poses, attractively, grins, toothy.

“You’re a shit ass, Preston.” Geneva quotes,
infamously.

“Many times over.” Preston teases, playfully,
grins, toothy

Stockton inquires, curiously. “Why are you
here, Geneva?”

“Why are you here, Stockton…with Preston?”
Geneva asks, sharply, sways one Colt .45 at him.

“We…are working with the FBI, remember,
Geneva. You didn’t show this morning at the office. I accompanied…”
Stockton empties, incompletely.

“Ashley?” Geneva talks, softly advancing to
desk before reaching her.

“Yes.” Ashley voices, meekly from heavy
intake of clinical medications.

“Who is BOA?” Geneva talks, meekly, pauses
behind desk.

“I am, bitch.” Preston shifts, forwardly with
raised arms, announces, proudly, grins, evilly.

Geneva neck snaps & calls, softly.
“Preston?”

Preston revels, pleasurably. “Got ya’ll.
You’ve been looking for me while I’ve been tracking your ass for 2
years.”

Larry details, meekly. “May I remind ya that
she’s got a loaded weapon, Preston?”

Preston chuckles, lightly, talks, bravely.
“Can’t hit the side of a still choo-choo train parked on the tracks
at Birmingham depot, either.”

“Ashley, who is BOA?” Geneva asks, twice.
She’s been working with BOA for 2 years same agency, same building,
same city, same state. That’s not possible since she would’ve
known.

“Preston.” Ashley relays, quietly.

“Preston!?” Geneva shrieks, obnoxiously.

Preston addresses, medically. “Ashley can’t
lie with all them shitty pills floating inside her head.”

“Who is TAG, Ashley?” Geneva voices,
cruelly.

“I am.” Ashley answers, softly.

“Who is BOA?” Geneva asks, twice.

“Preston.” Ashley answers, twice.

“Who is IT?” Geneva requires
verification.

Ashley uprights, quickly, turns, sideways
with bare feet on floor & eye burns into outer space, barks,
loudly two words. “Find it….find it…find it…find it….”

Geneva fires, loudly pistol hitting Ashley,
deadly in heart then swings short barrel at Stockton, deadly in
neck sways over to Preston as Larry’s chest & third bullet
blocks, bravely Preston from harm. Geneva shoots, fourly into
killing Larry’s eye socket then fifth bullet lodges, passionately
into door frame at Preston’s bluest of blue eye ball.

Larry’s heavy body drops, backwardly into
Preston’s still standing form as both hit, painfully tile reception
floor. Geneva darts, neatly rear door, escaping.

Arthur stumbles on knees, forwardly &
holds back of skull with hand into lobby tile, yells, mildly.
“Geneva…hit me… Preston.”

Preston shuffles, tenderly dead Larry from
legs, then gallops to him. “Arthur…you’re bleeding from skull.”

“Geneva….” Arthur breathes, hardy.
“…surprised me…lobby …only surface wound. She pounded …skull…rock.
Face…flashes light …dark.”

“Get ya cared for, buddy.” Preston talks,
seriously, pulls cell from jacket.

“Did you find Pamela?” Arthur asks,
hopefully.

“No.” Preston huffs, musically, calling for
helping, covers Arthur with his jacket, holding Arthur upright in
his lap preventing clinical shock.

Time: 11:31. Homewood Public Library.

Nice library patron stands, slowly from
computer while Pamela occupies, quickly warm stool. Pamela types:
codecs.getdecoder, yieldRECORDS at top of black screen. Generator
function of simply EDCDIC decoder will expose mirror image of
number of previous patron’s Jefferson County Public Library card so
Pamela can use, illegally to access Internet under someone else’s
name but her’s.

She scripts, quickly numbers then re-boots
computer waiting for proper ID box. After 3 minutes, she types:
Chalk Cave.

Screen displays, quickly Wycombe Caves in
Utah made of chalk, Bungonia caves made of chalk.

She types: Chalk Cave, Birmingham, Alabama
& receives same results. Okay, Chalk Cave is local nickname of
somewhere wayward cave here within the city of Birmingham.

“Let’s start with Alabama Jurassic park
model, no dinos lived here since there’s no oil under these hills.”
Pamela scrolls down screen, whispering tidbits of data to big
earlobes, recalls giving away her pink diamonds for clothes at Burn
U Sway Shop. “Paleo-Indians reached the known territory of Alabama
landforms end of Ice Age.”

Pamela talks, lightly. “Ice Age is gone. I
need geological Alabama. There are five major physiographies, study
of physical features of Earth’s surface. Well, Bama rock and
mountains will do.” She presses, hard ENTER.

Pamela talks. “The five major physiography
areas are Highland Rim, East Gulf Coastal Plain, Cumberland
Plateau, Alabama Valley and Ridge and Piedmont Upland.” She
eliminates what she knows as South and North Bama, clicks on
Alabama Valley and Ridge in central map.

Pamela talks. “Alabama Valley is rich in iron
ore, coal and limestone. Yes! Mountains are part of Appalachian
Foothills and contain limestone valleys and sandstone mountain
ridges. Yes!” She clicks on “Appalachian Foothills.”

Pamela talks. “Rocks of Appalachian range are
very old, rounded ridges and peaks former roughly 300 million years
ago during large geological up-thrust of land. Eroded to their
present form and shaped by forces of nature. Who cares? I’m
digressing.” She clicks, swiftly on “Valley” menu.

Pamela talks. “The five regions of Alabama
Valley include cotton, coal, soil, corn, soybeans, limestone,
marble and iron. Good!” She clicks on “limestone.”

“Plateau is elevated level expanse of land,
tableland. Plain is area of land of low relief meaning flat. Loam
is soil which contains sand, silt and clay and usually fertile and
ideal for agricultural use. Not helpful. I’m digressing, again.”
Pamela glances at wall clock, 15 minutes left on borrowed library
card, clicks on “Limestone” using the right link. She taps,
accidentally on definitions. She’s nervous.

“Lots of categories…let’s see…caves are
formed by water from water. So, how about rivers.” Pamela clicks on
“Rivers. “About 1/6 of surface area in Alabama is comprised of
bodies of water. How not freaking fascinating? Many rivers, lakes,
creeks and streams travel throughout Alabama landscape giving the
state one of the longest inland waterway systems in American. That
accounts for those caverns. All of Alabama’s largest bodies of
water are man-made lakes created by dams…” She halts, suddenly.
“Man-made lake would be re-routed through underground streams and
natural caves. The man-made lakes serve as hydroelectric generating
stations along main rivers that include the Tombigbee, Alabama,
Tennessee, Black Warrior, Coosa and Chattahoochee. I don’t have
time to research each river with thousands of smaller fresh water
lakes.” Pamela sighs, breathes, heavily. “Work smarter, not
harder.”

She googles on computer “Man-made lakes in
Alabama” as lists of proper names scroll down screen. She clicks on
“Lake Guntersville.”

“Man-made Lake Guntersville is largest lake
in north Bama. No, I need lakes in central Alabama.” She clicks on
next “River.”

“Lake Martin on Tallapoosa River near
Montgomery. No, not that one.” She clicks on Lewis Smith Lake.”

“Lewis Smith Lake is man-made located 20
miles northwest of Birmingham. Yes, found it! It was created by
construction of 300-foot dam by Alabama Power Company upon the
Sipsey Fork of Black Warrior River. Lake has 500 miles of shoreline
surrounding water surface covering 21,200 acres of land. I
bet….probably leaks like kid’s diaper directly into the heart of
Birmingham forming an underground cavern which is probably also
off-limits.” She reads, softly. “Lake lies adjacent to Bankhead
National Forest, home of Alabama’s largest trees, north of Shades
and Double Oak Mountains and many underground caves. Some famous
ones are Russell Cave, DeSoto Cavens and Rickwood Cavens.”

She eye burns screen, ponders, deeply. “It’s
not here. No wonder it didn’t display during search.”

She clicks on satellite imagery of Alabama
pinpointing Birmingham showing pink suburbs, dark green forest
& dark midnight black rivers north of Shades and Double Oak
Mountains, many fresh water lakes feeds Black Warrior River with
population of 242,820 people. She verifies the location & has a
new plan. Pamela clicks on “caving.”

Library Public Telephone.

Ring! Ring!
Pamela begins, swiftly to
president of caving organization located in Birmingham. “Hi,
I’m…Pat. I’m new to caving. I just read info on your website and
have some questions.”

Pause.

“Ya know, I’m…like a beginner and would like
explore just simple one cave for starters. Maybe, one that’s easy
to get in and out with minimal equipment. Can you assist me?”

Pause.

“Birmingham Grotto, website quoted that ya’ll
know where the caves are.” Pamela studies her written notes on
paper.

Pause.

“I read that, also. DeSoto Cavens, Rickwood
Cavens and Russell Cave in the north of the state. So, your next
meeting, Monday, 7:00pm, Public Library of Southside. Yes, writing
it down. Can you tell me what’s it like inside a cave, being a land
lover mostly?”

Pause.

“Yeah, I’m a funny girl.”

Pause.

“Why’s Russell Cave near Warrior closed? Is
that usual, I mean this is nature? Why would nature be closed?”

Pause.

“Yeah, I’m humorous.”

Pause.

“O! Got it. Park rangers escort you several
hundred yards along the boardwalk to a locked gate. Once opened,
you can walk to the dry creek bed, then follow the bed to a couple
puddles of water. Don’t drink the water. Noted for future
reference.”

Pause.

“So, you can walk around the water but not on
the archeo sites. What’s an archeo?”

Pause.

“Archeologist site, yeah, makes sense. Okay,
so when do you glide under the stalactites?”

Pause.

“Not allowed without special permission from
the state government mining office. Gotta make certain I’m not a
terrorist belonging to an underground organization to blow Mother
Nature, huh?”

Pause.

“O! So, cavers in Alabama and Tennessee are
required to be escorted by park rangers and file paperwork with the
park people. That’s takes the fun out of exploring?”

Pause.

“Yeah, terrorists have all the fun.”

Pause.

“Really, that’s cool! Your wife discovered a
cave near your house. Did you enter it?”

Pause.

“That sound like fun. Are there undiscovered
caves closer to Birmingham? I know the location of Warrior. That’s
a hefty drive from Homewood where I live.”

Pause.

“Keystone Bridge Cave, Gate City Cave, Chalk
Cave then there’s Quarry Cave in Trussville. But ain’t quarries
curved by man, not Mother Nature?”

Pause.

“I’m witty and smart. Tell me about Gate City
Cave?”

Pause.

“Strenuous mile and ¼ hike up Ruffen Mountain
off nature trail into small cave of wet water past your waist going
547 feet, I don’t like that one. Is there a dry cave...you enjoy?
What about Gate City Cave?”

Pause.

“Requires permission slip, check. How about
Chalk Cave?”

Pause.

“Chalk Cave? What can you quote about Chalk
Cave?”

Pause.

“Closed? O! No ranger guards or terrorists
left.” Pamela chuckles, lightly.

Pause.

“Accident, when?”

Pause.

“Two years ago, the cave never re-opened. Who
closed it?”

Pause.

“Feds, huh? Any more background?”

Pause.

“Spelunking Snail Cave, tomorrow, near-by to
Chalk, might see some terrorists. Ha! Ha! That’s fun, Roger.”

Pause.

“Bring gear, lunch, sturdy shoes, helmet and
water, tomorrow, meet at Patterson Farm off Highway 31. Okay? Yeah,
I do have basic knowledge of rigging and safe practices.”

Pause.

“You’re a nice person, Roger. See ya’ll at
six.”

Time: 6:03 pm. Snail Cave.

Pamela appears as pic on magazine for grotto.
Helmet contains portable flashlight, turtle neck cotton long
sleeved shirt over old baggy jeans, hiking boots, black rough cow
hide gloves on hands, thick plastic cloth-covers on knees holding
light all-purpose weather jacket in right arm with left arm covered
in rope for rigging after spending close to $1,000 for new caving
gear.

She taxis, loungingly in back of cab,
ponders, deeply her money, her time and her person. She has been
spending lots of money on taxi cabs moving quietly around city of
Birmingham, purchasing disguises, food and now, equipment for her
latest endeavor, spelunking. She has $200 and pennies left in her
backpack not enough to pay for another week of renting the cheap
motel room. She sighs, breathes, deeply.