So on this story I have acquired the titles of "bad author", "mean author", "evil author"... and the list goes on. I wonder whyyy... ;) Huh... IT seems that I am also called a "good author", whatever that means... maybe it's because I'm mean, and that makes me good! :D Okay, I'm making no sense anymore, onwards to the story!

Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, all of the world's gold, an elephant, an iPhone... I don't own any of them.

And now... VOILA!

Frank ran after Bart, staying on his trail only by following deeply imprinted hoof marks in the damp ground. He needed to get the horse back.

After an hour, the tracks led down a gully. Frank blinked. He sure hoped it wasn't the same canyon he'd started at… That would be unspeakably devastating.

Making his way carefully down the path, he skirted a few boulders and slid at a steady pace until he reached the bottom. Where were the hoof prints?

The sun was high overhead by now, and Frank looked around desperately. There!

Running over to the tracks, he felt the dirt with his fingers and stared at the looseness. They were fresh.

Suddenly he heard a low snarl. Frank's hair stood up on the back of his neck, and his chest constricted with apprehension.

Emerging from the shadows, a mountain lion stared steadily into his eyes. Its tawny fur sunk in behind heavily visible ribs.

"No," Frank muttered under his breath. "After all that's happened, why a cougar?"

Picking up a large stone, Frank launched it at the big cat. It hit its side, only serving to enrage it. With a roar, it leaped.

Shouting in alarm, Frank scrambled back, breathing hard. His heart pounded, and it was hard to run.

Bending down, he grabbed another stone and threw it. Missing, he continued to run.

Frank came to a boulder, and he was about to scramble up onto it when he felt hot pain start in his left shoulder. This was it.

A horrendous scream sounded through the canyon, and claws raked across both of his shoulders below the back of his neck. Frank was knocked to the ground, and he pushed himself back with his hands, staring wide-eyed at the scene in front of him.

Bart let loose another chilling horse scream, his coal-black mane flowing down his chestnut neck as he reared. Coming down, the draft horse's hooves struck the mountain lion's chest.

With a yowl, the big cat rolled and sprung, leaping onto Bart's back. Screaming again in pain and anger, the horse rolled in one desperate measure. Then everything was still.

Frank panted, crouching beside the boulder, and he peered into the dust clouded air.

After a tense few seconds, the large horse rose to his feet and nickered.

"YES!" Frank yelled in relief. Then pain coursed through his back, and he collapsed, his head swimming. A concussion, a gunshot wound, malnutrition, dehydration, and now clawing from a cougar. Yup, Frank grimaced, gritting his teeth, I have the whole package.

Bart's warm breath whuffled his hair, and Frank smiled in spite of things.

Rolling onto his stomach, Frank curled his legs in close to his chest, trying to fight off the pain. Nancy and Joe needed him. He'd promised to not give up. He'd told Nancy that everything would be okay.

Frank didn't know how long he laid there – it could have been minutes, it could have been hours. The sun baked him through his ripped t-shirt and jeans, and he now realized his feet were aching.

For once in his life, he felt actually helpless.

The thought of not being able to help Nancy and Joe tore his heart. I failed them. Joe, I'm so sorry. Nancy… I love you.

Dave looked up from whittling a knot of oak to make a wooden knife as someone stumbled out of the forest.

It was Kyle, caked in mud, and a little bit weak about the knees.

And he was raging.

Without a word, Dave ran to get the horses for the rest. He assumed they were moving out. His boss wouldn't go in search of Frank after that encounter.

Ed came to meet him, and snatched the bay mare's reins. "Those kids survived the explosion," Ed spat on the ground. "Boss had a run-in with one of 'em. He says that the rest're probably back near the cave. C'mon, we're gonna go finish what we started." The older cowboy strolled off.

Staring after him in horror, Dave took the palomino's reins and followed for a distance. Then when he was sure no one was watching, he swung onto the gelding's back and disappeared into the woods. Once out of hearing distance, he urged the horse into a flat-out run. Dave had to get them out of that canyon. They'd die otherwise.

Frank shifted a little on the canyon floor. A weird thumping noise carried through the air, growing steadily stronger. Then he heard the high-pitched whine accompanying it.

Using all his strength, Frank rolled onto his side, pushing himself up with his hands to squint at the sky. Peering into the sunlight, he made out the silhouette of a helicopter in the distance. Hope rose in hir heart, along with desperation.

He had to get their attention. It was his last chance.

"Bart!" Frank croaked, and he saw the horse still standing a few feet away. He was stuck with awe at the creature's sense of loyalty.

The horse nickered again. Seeming to sense that Frank was injured, it did something that horses seldom do.

As Frank watched, awestruck, the horse slowly knelt.

Glancing up, he saw the helicopter coming closer. With much effort, he dragged himself onto Bart's huge back, careful of the painful looking claw marks.

Wrapping his arms around Bart's neck, Frank clucked to him. Rising to his feet, the draft horse followed Frank's leg signals back to the beginning of the trail out of the gulley.

"Yah!" Frank shouted, digging his heels into Bart's sides.

He didn't have to ask twice.

The horse took off, shooting forward like a bullet. Wind whipped pieces of his mane into Frank's eyes, and he leaned his head to the side, guiding Bart around obstacles like an expert.

"Go, go! Come on, boy!" Frank murmured urgently, seeing the helicopter not too far away now. Making their way out of the canyon, they took off full speed into an open meadow. Bart neighed spiritedly, and surged forwards. Frank dug his fingers into the draft horse's mane. He held on for dear life. Their bodies rocked forwards at a rapid pace, in time with Bart's thundering hoofbeats. Adrenaline rushed through Frank's veins. This was his last chance. He wouldn't fail Nancy again.

They made it to the crest of an open hill, where they would be most visible to the helicopter. Skidding to a stop, Bart reared in the air, Frank clinging like a burr to his mane.

Staring up into the sky, wind blowing around him, Frank waited for a desperate moment as the helicopter came overhead.

Slowing, it started to descend.

Tears of overwhelming relief pricked Frank's eyes. He hugged the draft horse's warm, muscular neck. "Thanks, boy," he whispered. Bart tossed his head, and Frank smiled. Maybe that was horse for "You're welcome."

Reviews are food to me! And my friends know I am ALWAYS hungry! ;)

So yes, salvation is at hand. BUT... will Nancy and Joe get away from Kyle and his gang? Can Dave warn them in time?!

Toodloo!