This is a fictional story about a 30-year-old woman who tried out as a Coyote Girl in Nashville, but didn't make it. As a former bouncer, restaurant manager, substitute teacher and night club goer, I've witnessed my share of catfights in various cities. In the case of biker chicks who are caught selling drugs, the girls often send the fattest girl in the school to take them out. But in this case, Lauren damaged someone's property, and she faced the dire consequences when the girl caught up to her. And I do mean brutal.
Lauren Montgomery stormed out of the Nashville Coyote Ugly bar into the warm spring night. Her heart was pounding as she clinched her fists and shouted, “Fuck” along 2nd Avenue North. She was fuming. After all the dance lessons, gymnastics and shaking her ass on top of the bar, not to mention making a fool of herself in front of hundreds of people, she hadn’t made it as a Coyote Ugly girl.
It was her own fault. She had drunk several beers before her last number and stumbled around. Despite winning beauty pageants as a teen and possessing a body to die for, she was now just one of the rejects.
She walked down the street in her tight indigo Wranglers, western shirt, white cowboy hat and boots. She rounded the corner on the way to her car and kicked a garbage can. The metal bin tipped over and struck a dirty white pickup that was parked on the street, denting the front side panel.
Lauren thought she saw someone stir in the truck, but didn’t bother to take a second look. She hustled back to her Chevy Malibu a block away and headed home.
She pulled down a street of which she didn’t know the name and searched for the expressway. The longer she drove, the more she realized she’d probably missed the exit. She was not familiar with this section of town, as she lived in the suburbs, and had only resided in the area for six months. Ten minutes later, she made a right and entered a seedy section of town. All the businesses were closed on the street and only a few lights illuminated the immediate surroundings.
“I’m lost,” she said. “What else could go wrong tonight?”
Lauren made a left down a narrow road and passed a couple industrial buildings. The streets were now deserted as several paper bags skittered across the intersecting road, then one lifted up into the air toward some busted-out windows. More paper debris skittered along the pavement. Lauren made a right then another left; she slowed down as the wind howled through the slit in the window. At the end of the street in the distance, she spotted another vehicle. It was heading straight toward her.
At first, she thought she had turned down a one-way street. But there were two lanes in the road, though both were extremely narrow. Lauren switched lanes. She tried to get around the vehicle, but the driver turned the steering wheel right. Lauren made a sharp left to avoid hitting the truck and slammed into a telephone pole. Her airbag deployed and smacked her in the face, buffering her from the collision.
With her chest now squished by the airbag, she turned her head as she heard the door of the pickup slam shut. It looked like the same one she had dented with the garbage can.
Suddenly someone kicked her passenger-side door. The force of the blow shook her car. Lauren shoved the airbag aside, grabbed her door handle and tried to get out of her car. But he driver’s side door was wedged against the curb.
“Damn.”
The maniac kicked her door again, then struck the rear door. Both blows lifted the body of the car on its chassis, rocking it like a bucking Bronco.
The kicking stopped for a half minute or so. Lauren scanned the road through the windshield and side windows, but couldn’t see anyone. Then a dark hooded figure appeared near the front passenger door. Seconds later, the glass shattered as dozens of window fragments rained down on the seats. Lauren grabbed the back of her head and ducked down over her console.
The door opened. The hooded figure leaned into the car and grabbed Lauren’s arm. She slapped at the deranged individual, but then felt a strong hand grab her choker. She got picked up and pulled through the door. Her cowboy hat fell into the street.
Once outside the car, Lauren kicked and slapped at the nutcase but got shoved against her car. That’s when the black hood came down, revealing the fat smirking face.
Lauren had to do a double take as she gazed into the dark hooded eyes. She soon realized it was a young girl of about eighteen or nineteen—one who was a foot taller than her and as wide as a barnyard door.
“You dented my truck, bitch.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Lauren moved her head away from the girl and eyed her in amazement.
“Well, I got you pretty good, too,” the girl said. She chuckled. Lauren pushed herself off the car and just stared at the girl—mouth agape, eyes widened. She felt relieved—at least for ten seconds. But then the girl smirked and raised her fist.
Lauren had no time to react as the girl’s fist slammed into her jaw. When she awakened, she was lying on the street -- twelve feet from the spot where the girl socked her -- with blood streaking down both sides of her lips.
“Get up,” the girl said. Her voice was deep and echoed along the narrow road. Lauren’s heart was pounding as she sat up, reached behind her and tried to push herself up.
“I said get your skinny ass up.”
“I’m trying.” The girl grabbed Lauren’s arm and pulled her to her feet.
“What do you want from me?” said Lauren. “You hunted me down, trashed my car and bloodied my mouth. I’ve already apologized.” The girl held onto her arm.
“Get in the truck, cowgirl.”
“What for?”
“Just do what I say or I’ll knock your head off right here.”
“Like I said, I’m sorry for knocking the garbage can into your truck. I was auditioning for a job as a Coyote Ugly girl and got cut tonight.” The girl eyed her. She studied Lauren’s ensemble from her boots to her blonde coiffure.
“I don’t give a fuck what you’re doing down here, you trashed my pickup and woke me up.”
“Again, I’m sorry.”
“Get in the truck. Now!”
“No.”
The behemoth glared at her. Lauren crouched down in a fighting stance and raised her fists, expecting the girl to throw a haymaker at her head. But instead, the girl charged forward and drove her knee into her stomach.
“Uhhhhhhh.”
Lauren bounced off her car and fell forward. The girl pounded her with some body shots, then grabbed her by her belt and wrist. She hurled her around and slammed her headfirst into her car. Lauren flopped down on the pavement unconscious.
When Lauren woke up, she heard the rumbling of the truck’s engine; several lights flashed through the windshield. She was leaning against the side window with the seat belt pulled tightly against her lap. She tried to sit up but her head fell back against the window.
“If I were you, I’d keep my little ass planted in the seat where you are, if you know what’s good for you.
“Faaaa . . .”
“What was that, cowgirl?” At first, Lauren couldn’t speak. Her lips were swollen twice their size and stuck together with clotting blood.”
“Fuck you!”
The girl slowed the truck, and without looking, leaned to her right and punched Lauren in the temple. Her head slammed against the window and rattled the glass.
“I’d say you were the one who’s fucked, cowgrl, as soon as I get to where we’re going. I’ll make you sorry you kicked my truck tonight. I’ll make you sorry you were even born.”
Lauren didn’t respond. Her head was killing her. She could feel a huge knot forming on the side of her skull.
She felt nauseous. She leaned her face toward the glass and wretched.
“Oh, no,” said the teen girl. “Not in my truck, you’re not.”
She slammed on the brakes and grabbed Lauren’s seatbelt. She then leaned across the seat, opened the door and shoved Lauren out of the truck.
Lauren fell on the pavement. She landed on her shoulder on her right side, which jarred her neck. She slowly pushed herself up, rolled to her right, got to her knees, then vomited on the street.
“That’s it, cowgirl,” said the huge girl. “Get it all out. This happens to lots of girls and women when I beat them. I hit pretty hard.”
“That’s because you’re a fat cow,” said Lauren, after vomiting a second time. The teen opened her door and stepped out of her truck.
“You’re really asking for it, you little cxnt,” she said over the roof of her pickup. “You best shut your trap or I’ll squash you out her in the middle of the street.”
Lauren threw up again. The bile surged in her throat, bringing up remnants from the Coronas and pizza she’d eaten earlier.
“You about done there, rodeo bitch?” Lauren didn’t respond. She pushed herself away from the puke and crawled toward the street-side curb. The girl waddled around her truck and approached her.
“You trying to get away, little woman?” said the girl. “Go on. I dare you?”
Lauren grabbed for one of the limbs of a tree. She pulled herself up. She almost lost her footing but managed to steady herself with one of the branches. The girl stood a couple feet from the curb and watched her.
Lauren tried to catch her breath as she leaned her head against her shoulder while holding onto the tree. She heard the girl laugh at her. Seconds later, she scanned the sidewalk and empty buildings ahead. She then took off running.
It was more of a trot as she limped up the sidewalk, boot heels clopping on the concrete, swaying to the right and back to the left on her weak legs. She’d used them all day for the tryouts. But it was the thrashing she’d taken earlier that made her so unsteady at the moment. She felt like she’d been hit by a bus.
“Go on and run, cowgirl,” the girl shouted. “There’s no one around down here, and you don’t have a prayer of finding a cop. But when I do find you, I’m gonna kill ya. You hear that, bitch. I’m going beat you senseless, then I’m going to murder you.”
Lauren’s heart was pounding. She picked up speed but was still hobbling along. She was favoring her left leg. The girl must’ve injured her right one when she barreled into her.
She spotted a dumpster up ahead, but passed it by. It was too obvious. She came to alley on the right. She looked back but didn’t see the girl. She entered the narrow alley, maneuvering around several empty garbage cans. The pungent odor of piss impinged her nostrils. And in the distance, a fat rat scurried alongside one of the buildings. She wretched some more but didn’t vomit. She’d already emptied her guts back by the pickup.
Lauren rounded another corner and spotted a door on the side of an abandoned building. She pulled on the rusty metal handle and found it unlocked. She walked inside; her boot hills crunched over glass and other broken particles. She could barely see three feet in front of her, but managed to traipse to her right thirty feet toward an old wooden stage. She sat down on the dusty structure and took a couple deep breaths. Then she listened for the girl. The place was eerily silent.
Lauren caught her breath, then pulled her cell phone from her left front jean’s pocket. She flashed it on and saw that it was 12:06 a.m. She dialed 9-1-1 and waited for someone to answer. It rang a couple times, then beeped once. She was then disconnected.
She tried dialing the emergency number again, but couldn’t even get a dial tone. The first two rings was probably just a fluke. This place hadn’t been used in decades, so Wi-Fi had certainly never been installed around here.
Lauren’s lower left rib started aching. She pulled her shirt up and felt around for a bruise. She felt a lump there, then jerked her hand away when the pain surged.
God damn. It was bad enough that she’d wasted all that time trying out as a Coyote Girl. But now her life was in danger. She saw the evil in the girl’s eyes and knew she was dead serious about killing her. Why did she have to hit her truck of all vehicles?
Lauren stopped the self-pity. She had to start moving again. She hadn’t even covered three blocks yet.
Just then, she saw something pass the window on her left. She pushed herself off the stage and ambled over toward the window. She waited for the girl to barge through the door, but she didn’t. Ten more minutes passed.
This was ridiculous, running from a fat high school girl at 12:30 in the morning. She was almost thirty years-old. Grown women didn’t get bullied by school girls—at least anyone with brains. She was working as a waitress at Long Horns to pay the bills. She just wanted to find a better-paying job, at least until she could find a job in marketing, her college major.
She heard someone pound the door. Then it opened with a screech. Lauren moved her right leg behind her and backed up against the wall, pressing both hands against it near her thighs. The large form of the girl entered the building as glass popped beneath her immense weight.
“I know you’re in here, cowgirl. You didn’t close the door all the way.” Lauren saw the girl walk farther into the building. “You see, I live in these buildings, so I know when someone’s been here. I ran away after my mother died last October. I got no other relatives and didn’t want to end up as a ward of the state—if that’s how you say it.”
The girl looked to her left, then turned and started walking toward the stage. “No, I’d rather fend for myself, earn money how I can and take care of numero uno. That’s me, you know.” The girl chuckled. It sent shivers running up Lauren’s spine.
“I tried begging for a while, dressing like some fucking hobo with a bowl in my lap. But the assholes around here gave me next to nothing. That’s when I started selling drugs. When I found out some biker chicks were selling drugs at football games on Friday nights at my old school, I went after a few of them. A couple weeks ago, I killed a woman. I beat her senseless and drowned her. I then came back down here to avoid getting arrested. The cops are looking for me. I’ve been in the newspapers and everything.”
Lauren closed her eyes. She started praying that the girl wouldn’t find her. But she was standing twenty feet away along the wall. “Please, just go away,” she muttered to herself under her breath. “Please, dear God, let me get out of here.”
The girl turned toward Lauren. She placed her hand over her eyes as if searching for land at sea. “Oh, there you are. I thought I smelled you, you little shit-kicking rodeo cowgirl twat.”
Lauren slid to her left.
“Don’t even try, cowgirl. Because I’ll catch you and cut you into little pieces. I might even eat you if I get hungry enough.” She laughed.
Lauren froze. Her heart hammered. She watched the teen walk back toward the door and slam it shut. She then clicked the lock shut.
“Now then. We’re alone at last. If you want out, you have to go through me. Good luck there. And don’t even try jumping through one of those barred-up windows. As skinny as you are, you still wouldn’t fit, bitch.”
“What do you want from me?” said Lauren. Her response came out a bit emotional and high-pitched.
“I told you. I want to get you back for trashing my pickup.”
“But it’s a piece of shit,” shouted Lauren.
“I know. But it’s the principal of the thing. I’ve been stressed out ever since I murdered that biker chick. I haven’t slept more than three hours a night. The damn cops are looking for me. I was finally getting a good rest when you woke me up.”
“And I said I was sorry.”
“That’s fine. But I’m still going to take it out on your ass.”
“You mean beat me or kill me?” said Lauren. Her legs started trembling.
“Probably both, now that you know I murdered someone.”
Lauren took a couple deep breaths. If she stayed along the wall, she could make a run for it. But she’d need to quickly find the latch to the lock and get it open. All that before the girl grabbed her. It was the only way.
Lauren aspirated, her mouth was so dry, her tongue stuck to the roof of it. She darted for the door.
“Oh, no you don’t, you little bitch.”
Particles of glass crunched under Lauren’s boots as she ran toward the door. The girl charged after her. Lauren reached the door handle and searched for the lock latch. She flipped it up and pulled the door open. The girl barreled into it before she could squeeze through. The door slammed into her hip. She tried to get through the crack in the door, but the teen grabbed her by the back of her hair. She then clutched her arm and pulled her back in the building.
“Told you, you’re not going anywhere.”
Lauren thrust her boot out and tried to karate kick the girl. She missed. She threw a side kick and caught her in the hip with her boot heel. But the girl grabbed her ankle and pulled her leg up. She pulled Lauren closer by grabbing her jeans, then punched her in the nose. A second blow sent blood cascading down her chin to her shirt. The huge girl picked her up and tossed her against the wall.
“Oh, God,” cried Lauren, as she landed on her stomach. Her hand smacked a piece of glass and cut her palm. The girl stomped on her ass.
“Ohhhhhh.”
“That’s right, cowgirl. Let it out. I know it hurts. But it’s gonna get a lot worse.” Greta stomped down on the woman’s ass again. She stepped over the blonde and kicked her in the side.
“I’m gonna wreck your little body, then I’m going to dispose of you once and for all. All because you had a little temper tantrum tonight because you didn’t make it as a Coyote Ugly girl. Who cares about that shit? Those women are just a bunch of sluts dancing on bars. Yeah, I heard about them.”
The cowgirl didn’t respond. Greta kicked her in the side again. She was unconscious.
“Okay, I’m gonna take you to my other home and then decide how to get rid of you. I like to be creative, you know how it is, cowgirl.” Greta laughed. She then reached down and pulled the woman to her feet.
To be continued . . .
