The Cat

Jess had lost sight of the cat at least an hour ago. His sense of time was impaired. He was beginning to wonder how long he�d actually been sitting here. As the moon rose, the shadows deepened and he was no longer able to see more than about thirty feet out, if that. As the pain in his leg increased, the effort of keeping tabs on the cat became less important. It was all Jess could do to keep upright. If he hadn�t been wedged in between the rocks, he would have keeled over. He was concentrating his remaining energy on breathing deeply, and trying to keep from passing out. The cold was becoming a very real problem, but he thought fleetingly that perhaps the cold would eventually numb his leg and help ease some of his pain. He also knew the cold could kill him. He was trying not to think about that. Help would come. Probably in the form of Slim. The question was, would he come in time?

Jess shoved his gloved hands into his armpits and bent his head low, his hat pulled down almost covering his eyes. He closed his eyes and tried to think back to earlier in the day. It had started out so good. At the moment, he couldn�t actually remember why he�d been in such a good mood, but it was dang unfair that his fortunes had changed so radically, and spoiled a perfectly good day. Not one to wallow in self-pity he turned his thoughts to what he would do if help didn�t come. At the moment, he couldn�t think of a thing, He wondered what Mike and Daisy and Slim were doing right now. It was late and they were probably all in bed. God how he wished he were in his bed.

Jess shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable which resulted in a new bolt of pain tearing through his leg, bringing tears to his eyes. He felt a soft blanket of blackness settling over him. He fought to not let it consume him. He took some deep breaths and blinked his eyes several times, the tears streaming down his face. He reached to his holster and pulled his gun out, laying it across his lap and keeping his finger through the trigger guard.