Team Cowboy.

Chapter Fourteen

A/N: I don't expect anyone to read this considering that I have not updated this story in six years, but I have been getting back into creative writing again recently, and thought finishing this story might be some good practice. Also I have been stuck in the house for seven months because of the coronavirus (with no end in sight) so I may as well pretend I am a teenager again...

~X~X~X~

"So what now?" Woody asked, glancing nervously back at Pete as though to make sure he wasn't going to escape and tear them all to pieces any time soon. The Prospector was still trapped on his back in the box, trying desperately to indent the material that entrapped him like a weak and pathetic rat trying to gnaw through steel wool. No matter how the effort exhausted him, Pete's attempts were to no avail - Jessie had dented the box to such an extent that the material had caved in on itself, trapping Pete inside. The only way Pete could escape was if he could literally CUT his way out of the box - an impossible feat considering that Jessie now had Pete's pick-axe.

Jessie, now squatting by the hatch-exit, looked towards the Sheriff. "What d'ya think?" she asked and then, with a frustrated shake of the head, gestured the pick-axe towards him. "We head towards the vent and then we use THIS to open it, okay?"

Woody thought it was a good plan, so nodded his head so.

"NO, YOU DON'T!" Pete interjected, hitting his balled-up fists against the plastic like a three-year-old who had gotten themselves trapped in a bathroom stall. "YOU GET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW, JESSIE!"

Jessie chortled. "Or what, Prospector?"

"OR I'LL...I'LL-"

"You'll do nothing, Prospector." Jessie said, now in all seriousness. "You're not stopping me."

"YOU BAT-CRAZY LOON!" he screamed as he again threw all his body-weight upwards in an attempt to get upright. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE? YOU'VE 'RUINED' THE DISPLAY! SOMEONE WILL SEE-"

"Not a chance, Prospector-"

"Oh, you stupid fool! There's no going back from this, Jessie," he warned, his voice hot and heavy with exasperation. His big brown eyes, that had once looked at Jessie with love and tenderness, were filled with rage and hatred. "When the museum opens tomorrow, everyone's going to see what you've done. They're going to see EVERYTHING, Jessie - you've RUINED my box!"

Here she laughs, "So what?"

"SO WE'LL BE SENT TO THE DUMPS, IS WHAT!" Here he pauses, breathing heavily, maniacally, his now open wide and glistening with a horrifyingly savage darkness. "It'll be YOUR fault when we all become TRASH!"

Jessie looked at him for a moment, her jaw clenching and unclenching repeated as if her courage had been briefly disarmed by his warning, before shaking her head and turning towards the hatch. "Come on, Woody," she said promptly. "We have to go."

Woody took one last look at Stinky Pete, frowning as if he felt sorry for the poor old geezer, before turning resolutely towards the hatch.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Pete screamed as they opened the hatch. "You can't leave me behind! You can't leave me behind! YOU CAN'T!"

"You should have thought about that before you closed the vent, Prospector," Jessie said before climbing down the hatch.

Woody helped Bullseye through, and they quickly headed across the room to the vent. Jessie twirled the pick-axe around in her hand and skipped happily.

"Woody, can you believe it?" Jessie asked, spinning around as she walked. "We're getting out of here! We're finally getting out of here! We can go back to Andy's! You can finally go back home!"

Woody, who had been stressed by the incident with the Prospect only a few moments ago, broke into a grin. He had been so focused on getting out of the museum that the prospect of going back to Andy's had seemed vague and almost insignificant. But now that they were finally about to leave this place, this prospect started to feel all too real. He hadn't felt this way since falling into Andy's car after being strapped to a rocket!

Glee began to course through him. If he had a heart, it'd be hammering with excitement. He could be back in Andy's arms within a few days. He couldn't believe it!

"Yeah…" Woody said, his eyes lacquered with happiness. "Yeah! We can go back to Andy's! We can really get back!"

"You betcha, Sheriff," Jessie said. They were now at the vent's grate, and Jessie began to unscrew one of the nails holding it in place. The nails turned easily, and the vent's grate popped open.

They peered inside. As expected, it was completely black. There were a few cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, and as the vent's grate opened Jessie swore she saw a mouse scutter away with something large in its mouth.

As Jessie looked into the darkness, her breath caught in her throat. Even though her need to escape overpowered pretty much any other concern she had, the darkness was still incredibly daunting for her. The darkness reminded her of the years she had spent under Emily's bed, completely mummified by a thick coat of dust, wishing everyday to just be played with one more time. It also reminded her of the years she had spent in storage, not knowing when she would be able to see the light again. So as she looked into the vent, she was worried that if she ventured into it, she might get lost and never come out again. She would never get to meet Andy and she would spend the rest of eternity curled up in the dark, waiting for the endless dark abysm of time to consume her.

She closed her eyes and pulled at her braid with her spare hand.

Woody, seeing the stress that was etched on her face, wrapped his hand around hers. Surprised by the sudden touch, Jessie opened her eyes and looked at Woody. He squeezed her hand and gave her a small nod, a look of true concern and tenderness in his eyes.

She nodded back at him and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Bullseye head-butted her softly before looking up at her with big worried eyes. She sniffled and patted him on the head, chuckling bittersweetly.

"Aw, Bullseye, you're a good boy, aren't you?" She laughed when Bullseye nodded his head to indicate that he, indeed, was a good boy - if not the goodest of boys!. "You always take such good care of me."

Jessie looked back into the vent.

It was bleak, but for Jessie it was the most beautiful sight in the world. It was her passageway to a better a brighter future with Andy, and so for her this heart of darkness, once an image of despair, now resembled an image of hope and salvation.

"Well," Jessie said, puffing out her chest. "There's no day like today. We best get going before any of the cleaners see us."

Woody nodded his head in agreement, and together the three of them headed through the vent. After a few meters, the vent turned left for a few meters, and then right again. After this last turn, they saw another vent grating.

Unlike the last grating, this one opened easily.

That's odd, Jessie thought as they climbed through, but when she saw that they had emerged into a janitor's closet, this thought disappeared like a tumbleweed being whipped away by a hurricane. Freedom was close, she could tell!

When they stepped out of the vent, they all looked around at their surroundings. Shelves on three of the room's walls were piled high with cleaning cloths, disinfectant, sponges, soap, and every other cleaning tool you could imagine. Strewn about on the floor were vacuums, floor polishers, mops and mop buckets, some filled with dirty water that was such a putrid brown colour it made Jessie cringe.

To their right, about five meters away from them, was the door to the janitor's room. The door was slightly ajar, and the sliver of golden light that slithered into the room through the gap between the door and the door jamb promised of an equally bright future for the trio.

"A way out!" Jessie exclaimed, jumping in glee and grabbing Woody's hand. "Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln! We might have actually found a way out!"

"Don't count your eggs just yet, Cowgirl," a voice said as two dark figures leapt onto Woody and Jessie and knocked them onto the ground.