Tailing an unsuspecting fugitive on Route 93, just north of Kingman, Arizona, Maddy passed a wrecked car. The vehicle, an older model, four door, dark green sedan, had settled on its roof, resembling an upside-down turtle. Black smoke billowed, rising into the late afternoon sky. The low, looming sun resembled an overripe blood orange.

“Looks like I’ll have to catch up to Lester another time,” Maddy said.

She pulled her Yamaha motorbike to the side of the road and surveyed the wreckage. “Oh, man…”

A teenage girl crawled through the space where the driver’s side window had been. The two adults looked like mangled ragdolls.

Maddy knelt next to the lone survivor. She had long black hair and multicolored bangles on a badly bruised right arm. A ghastly wound scarred her forehead.

“Hey, hey … easy … easy…”

The girl rolled onto her back. Her large brown eyes focused on the darkening sky. “Lo siento mucho,” she said, tears spilling from her eyes. “Me arrepiento de lo que hice…”

Maddy pulled out her phone and made an emergency call.

“Es culpa mía…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Maddy said, and squeezed the girl’s right hand. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

A dispatcher took down the details and location of the crash and promised Maddy help was on the way. The woman emphasized the importance of keeping the girl alert but calm in the interim.

“I’ll do my best,” Maddy said, and ended the call.

The girl babbled incoherently, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Maddy shuddered. She did not want to witness anyone’s last breath. “Está bien,” she said. “No hables. Shhhh…”

“Lo siento … lo siento … lo siento…” the girl said, and her eyelids fluttered.

“No te duermas,” Maddy said, and snapped the fingers on her free hand. “Stay with me. Escucha mi voz.”

The girl’s grip faltered.

“No, no, no…” Maddy said, and patted the girl’s left cheek. “Quédate conmigo.”

The girl smiled. “Mama … mama…”

Maddy placed her right ear to the girl’s chest. Heartbeat faint but steady. She raised her head and exhaled. “You’re going to make it,” she said. “Sin duda.”

State troopers and an ambulance arrived ten minutes later. A female EMT mimicked Maddy’s actions, and spoke similarly comforting words in Spanish to the girl.

“Hell of a thing,” said one of the troopers, a big guy with a meticulously maintained mustache. “Worst part of the job, bar none.”

“Right,” Maddy said, watching as a male EMT prepared a gurney.

“Another wagon will be out shortly,” Mustache Trooper said, acknowledging the upside down, lifeless bodies.

Maddy nodded, stepping back as the EMTs carefully strapped the girl to the gurney and loaded her into the back of the ambulance.

Mustache Trooper finished taking her statement, along with contact information. “You chase fugitives, huh?”

She nodded. “New to it, but yes. My current livelihood.”

“First time I’ve encountered a girl bounty hunter.”

“I sorta fell into it,” Maddy said. “So, anyway, if there’s nothing else…”

“Well, I get off in an hour. Wanna grab a burger, hang out?”

She looked up at the man. Just past his mid-twenties? At most a half-decade older than her. “No, thank you, officer. I still have a fugitive to apprehend.”

“I can assist,” Mustache Trooper said. “Know the area. It would be my pleasure.”

The ambulance, lights flashing but its siren muted, pulled away and motored toward Kingman.

“My skip is far past your turf,” Maddy said. “Thanks for the offer, but I have a partner who backs me up. I’m all good.”

“Sure, I understand,” Mustache Trooper said. “Thanks for calling. For stopping in the first place. Most people don’t bother. A damn shame.”

I’m sorry … I’m sorry … I’m sorry…

“It was nothing,” she said. “You take care.”

“You, too,” he said, and nodded.

Maddy got on her bike and continued down the highway, doing her best to ignore the wrecker as it cruised past her and approached the ruined vehicle.

– Frederick Barrows