Cyber Kittens and Cowboys by Ipam (books to read for 12 year olds txt) 📕

with 20 pounds of weight and re-trace steps tointersection of bridge & deadly gap.

She kneels, slowly & studies map notingplanned detour. She eye burns gap. “This is it. Okay, just jumpacross the hole, easy.”

She strolls, quickly to right wing of cave& plants cavepack against wall hoping new friends believe she’swandering around for fun and adventure or stupidly just lost. Anyexcuse will do.

She jogs, rapidly back to intersect point.She huffs & puffs, heavily & bents knees, then flies likean eagle across gap.

She lands, deftly on broken boulders &falls, painfully on knee coverings. She examines, thoroughlyterrain. No earthquakes. No lightning. No rain. Clear!

She stands, slowly & measures, quietlyair waves. Good! She drops on fours and crawl over flatter brokenboulders toward the darkness.

After crawling and dragging heavy hikingboots & shaky legs, she plops, hard on second stony tier oflower cave. North & South walls are solid limestone rock. Shestands, shaky & tiptoes to lip of canyon & stares,studiously.

No streambed of water, no briars cutting legsand no foliage of green spiky plants or bushes or loggingtrail.

Pamela shakes, sideways black skull withdoubt but only option is retreat back to bridge then break intoanother cheap motel room for sleep and new plan or survive toPreston.

At this moment, Preston is looking better andbetter with each tick-tock of the clock.

She drops on fours & crawl, downwardlyinto dim light onto path of medium and small boulders until finallysplashing water with glove. She stands, slowly then glances behindat overhanging canopy of green blocking the lip of canyon withfading sunlight.

She rotates neck muscles, circles terrain.Red clay is everywhere on ceiling, floor and walls, not limestonerock. She clicks off then on headlamp on helmet. Clearly, red clayis everywhere.

She stands, motionlessly in water, smallmuddy red puddles of still water, not streams of sparklingwetness.

Electricity sizzles, brilliantly.Sinkhole.

Sinkhole is deep or shallow hole in dirt whenrock below the land composed of limestone carbonate rock thatdissolve by ground water. As rock dissolves, caves form when landsuddenly collapses inside itself. Birmingham is built under cavernsand caves where sinkholes formed by Black Warrior River travelingnortheast to southwest in the city.

She stumbles, accidentally over trashconsisting of paper and plastic cups, junk food wrappers, food fastlids. Last night, cavers had talked about clean up work, sitesurvey work and graffiti removal workshop keeping cave sitebeautiful. They need to come here.

She stops, suddenly & eye burnsequipment, glance, quickly around terrain then back at equipment.Haul system with ropes, ladders and pulleys. That’s not cave gear,either. She measures, estimatedly wide of 150 feet and 20 deepsinkhole in the middle of Birmingham with small puddles of standingwater. No drainage, waterfalls or passages.

“Dig, girlfriend.” Familiar female altoclarinet echoes, loudly. Pamela neck snaps to gun & Geneva.

“Looking for something, Geneva?” Pamelateases, foolishly.

Geneva announces, unemotionally. “Preston’sdead along with Stockton, Arthur and Larry. You’re fault, of courseif only you surrendered yourself…when you had the chance,darling.”

Pamela debates, logically. “I didn’t do anything wrong or illegal…like you…Geneva.”

Geneva purrs, objectively. “Hacked CIA site,ran away, hiding out wearing hideous disguises. I really like theclown suit best.”

“You tracked me?” Pamela frowns, ugly.

Geneva blasts, coldly. “Since your high heelsskidded down 11th Avenue…”

“You’re lying, Geneva. Preston isn’t dumblike you.” Pamela insists, strongly.

Geneva barks, loudly. “Clean your ears,darling. Preston’s dead along with Ashley…”

Pamela talks, meekly. “You killedAshley.”

“…all them in cold blood…it was really easy.Pulling the trigger then…Bang! All dead! All gone!” Geneva sighs& breathes, deeply. She points, rudely gun at Pamela. “That wasmy plan killing Ashley then Thurston then BOA came along…”

Pamela requests, pleadingly. “Who is BOA?What’s this all about, Geneva?”

“He’s dead now….finally.” Geneva eye burnsred dirt clay, then Pamela. “But, I do need extra help, darling. Ican’t do what I need alone this round. You’re a smarty, Stocktoncalled ya right.”

“NO.” Pamela yells, loudly, crosses arms overchest.

“Defiance and smarty, pick up the shovel,start digging…” Geneva shuffles Southeast direction, points, rudelywith gun barrel at last spot of Thurston’s alive body. “…over here.Now!”

Pamela lifts, heavily full size shovel,walks, slowly to spot & digs, carefully where invisible lineshoots from gun barrel. “What am I digging for?”

“You’ll see.”

“Come on, Geneva, tell me, spill thefun.”

Geneva grins, toothy. “OK? A box.”

“Box of monkey’s. Not right!” Pamela giggles,silly. “That’s a barrel of monkeys. Maybe, a box of crackers or abox of Cracker Jack’s, the sweety, tasty treats.”

“You talk…way too much, Pamela. How aboutsilent while digging?”

“Only if you shoot me with that gun. What’sthis all about, Geneva?”

“Box of cracker Jack’s, very apropos. It’sthe prize inside I’m seeking.” Geneva chuckles, silly.

“O! So, you do know the prize. Is it goldnuggets, paper bonds, silver coins? What else is small but worthmillions of dollars? How about….uh?” She grunts, heavily liftingdirt, talks, rudely. “Manual labor sucks.” Geneva laughs, hardy.Pamela guesses, loudly. “Small but valuable… found it!”

Geneva gasps, nosily, exclaims, loudly,steps, closely. “Found it…where?”

“Found it…in my brains.” Pamela points to herskull, giggles, lightly.

“Dig faster, Pamela.”

“When you get mad or upset, Geneva, you use aperson’s first name instead of last name?”

“I don’t know their pet names, darling. But,tell me! What’s your lover’s pet name you cry during…?”

“Preston!”

“YO.” Deep baritone trombone voices, loudlyfrom Southern corner of Chalk Cave as Preston appears, magicallywith Dewy. Pamela drops shovel, steps, gingerly toward Preston.

Geneva points, rudely gun at her. Prestonstops 20 feet, suddenly with hands in air. Pamela kneels,immediately, eye burns gun. Geneva shrieks, obnoxiously. “I killedyou.”

Preston talks, casually. “Wall got injureddoes that make ya feel meaner, Geneva?”

“The hero?” Geneva hisses, serpentine.

“The bitch!” Preston rumbles deep baritonetrombone. He kneels to dog, pats, tenderly furry head, points,rudely at Pamela. “Hey, look Dewy! Pamela’s here, playing in thedirt just like you, buddy. Protect Pamela!” Husky gallops to herlegs, then jumps into her face, licking & pawing her bodyparts, happily.

Pamela rubs his furry body with both hands.“Hi, Dewy! Glad to see both…my men, here.”

Geneva poses, admiringly, sways gun at her.“So, Pamela, are you dating boy wonder here?”