Chapter Twenty-Seven

Carrie froze when she heard the shot. She stared down the gorge. She was about two kilometres from the billabong with a clear view along the gorge. If the brumbies were coming her way, she didn’t have much time. She turned to the horse at her side. Finbarr was alert, staring in the direction of the gunshot. Carrie felt her courage fail her. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t do this. She was no longer that woman who could ride like she was born to it. Who could guide a horse with feet and hands and voice, bending it to her will and creating that magic partnership where two became as one. That woman had vanished under the slashing hooves of the horse that day she fell.

Beside her, Finbarr shuffled nervously and snorted. Her hands clenched the reins until she could feel her own nails biting into her palms.

Justin was relying on her. Justin who had been so kind and understanding. Justin who made her heart beat a little bit faster every time he was near her. Justin looked at her as if she was someone special; as if she was still that woman she had once been. She would never forget the look on his face when she’d offered to ride Finbarr today. The look of joy and pride. A look of admiration.

How could she fail him? How could she not?

A second shot echoed through the gorge. He eyes widened. She hadn’t expected a second shot. What was happening? Justin was going to need someone on this flank. He was going to need her. It was time to live up to the promise she had made. Trying to ignore the terrible fear threatening to swamp her, she thought of Justin and reached for the saddle. She slipped her foot into the metal stirrup and swung herself onto Finbarr’s back. Feeling her tension, the excited horse sidled away, and her foot slipped out of the stirrup back to the ground. She stepped closer to the horse, but his growing excitement had Finbarr dancing away from her. Her hands were shaking too much to hold him. He would sense her fear and that would only make it harder for her to control him. Tears of frustration pricked her eyes.

She heard a noise, like a low rumble of thunder. Finbarr spun around to stare back up the gorge. The horses burst into sight.

The stallion was in the lead, his neck stretched out, nostrils flaring as he gasped for breath. He’d been running hard, and his sides were dark with sweat. The other brumbies were strung out behind him. The mares and foals were struggling to keep up the punishing speed their leader set.

Behind them, she could see a distant figure of a man on horseback. Justin. He was pushing them, but not too hard. He needed them to keep moving, without time to think. But at the same time, he didn’t want them to stampede in a blind panic.

Finbarr began to prance beneath her restraining hand. He could see and hear and smell the wild horses. He wanted to run, too. It was all she could do to restrain him. She should be on his back now, and every second she waited, he grew harder and harder to control. A sob escaped her. She couldn’t do this.

In the distance, Justin swung his stock whip once again. His big bay horse increased its speed and stumbled in the rough going.

It happened in slow motion. Carrie stopped breathing as the big bay stock horse fell to his knees and rolled over in dry creek-bed. Justin was flung from the saddle and rolled onto the sand right next to the thrashing feet of his horse.

‘No!’ The cry escaped from the deepest part of Carrie’s soul. Without thinking, she turned and flung herself onto Finbarr’s back. She gathered the reins and dug her heels into his sides, urging him into a gallop.

The stock horse lunged down the embankment, almost unseating her. Her heart clenched with fear, but instinct and years of training took over. She gripped more tightly with her knees and leaned forward, thinking of nothing but her need to get to Justin. She lost sight of where he lay as Finbarr began a strong, sure-footed race down the side of the gully.

A few seconds later, Finbarr flung his head high in the air and slid to a stop. Horses had appeared at the mouth of the gully. The brumbies were turning away from the main gorge, seeking escape. This was what Justin had feared. This was why Carrie was there.

Torn between the desire to do her job and the overwhelming need to get to where Justin lay, Carrie grabbed the stock whip that was hanging from the front of her saddle. Taking the reins in one hand, she shook the whip free and swung it.

The resulting crack echoed off the red rocks and brought the brumbies to a ragged halt. As the mares milled about uncertain of what to do next, the stallion pushed his way to the front. Carrie swung the whip again. And again. She was terribly afraid the stallion would decide to push past her, and she’d be powerless to stop him. She swung the whip one more time.

The mares broke, turning away from Carrie and back into the gorge. After a moment’s hesitation, the stallion squealed and followed them. Moving faster than the rest he fought his way through the mob to take the lead. He stretched into a gallop, showing no sign of the exhaustion that was evident in the other horses. Behind him, the mares raced on, but those with young foals at foot were starting to falter. The yearlings too were showing signs of exhaustion.

Carrie guided Finbarr the last few strides down to the bottom of the gorge and turned his head away from the herd and back towards where she’d seen Justin fall. There he was, once more atop the big bay gelding, racing towards her as fast as the horse could go.

A sob of relief caught in her throat. Then she saw the blood on his face, and a terrible chill engulfed her.

‘Carrie.’ His voice echoed off the high rock walls. ‘I’m okay. Let’s go.’

Then he was beside her. Despite the blood on his face, he was grinning.

‘You did great,’ he shouted over the sound of horse’s hooves.

Her heart swelled with joy and pride as the horses galloped side by side.

‘I’ll take the left flank,’ Justin called. ‘You take the right.’

‘Okay.’

She pushed Finbarr to the right to take up her station. Justin moved towards the left. Ahead was the heaving sea of black and brown and grey bodies. The brumbies were moving a little more slowly now. Exhaustion was overriding fear. Some of the foals were falling behind, stumbling in the heavy sand of the gorge. Only the stallion seemed still full of energy. A gap was beginning to open between him and the rest of the herd.

‘Try to push them up a bit,’ Justin yelled. ‘We don’t want him to get too far ahead. We need to keep them all together.’

Carrie nodded. She pushed Finbarr to more speed and swung her whip. The harsh crack sent the mares lunging forward with renewed energy. The gap closed.

She glanced over at Justin, who waved his approval.

How good that felt. Carrie’s heart was beating fast, her muscles straining as she rode with every ounce of skill she possessed. For the first time in months, she felt totally alive.

The gorge was growing even narrower, pushing the racing brumbies into a tighter mass. They were almost there. They had almost succeeded. The yard they had worked so hard to build was not far away.

It was up to Quinn now.

Quinn’s fingers curved around the familiar shape of the camera. Her hands were still. Her arms poised. Every nerve in her body was alert for the first sight of the wild horses. She was carefully hidden among some boulders, just a short distance from the wide-open gates leading to the yard. The two metal gates had been partly obscured with small scrubby tree branches. The fence posts likewise had been disguised. The camouflage wouldn’t stand up to close scrutiny, but hopefully the horses wouldn’t see the trap until they were inside. It was Quinn’s job to shut those gates, blocking the brumbies escape back the way they had come. Carrie and Justin would be there too, on horseback, ready to block the herd if they turned. But the gates were the most important factor. Quinn had to get them shut.

She cocked her head, listening for the first sound of the brumbies’ approach. She’d heard the two shots. Dan setting the horses on their way. But since then, there had been nothing but silence. The high walls blocked any other sounds from further down the gorge. Quinn would have sold her soul to know what was happening back there.

She lifted the camera and focussed on the place where the horses should emerge. This was the essence of being a photographer. Being prepared. This was the one important thing she had never failed at. It was who she was. Other women could be wives and mothers. Not her. That carefully wrapped package in the back of her Hummer was testimony to that. She was a photographer. Without that she would be nothing and no one. With her camera she could create beauty. It was the most important thing in her world. The only thing in her world.

She felt them coming, rather than heard them. A vibration running through the rocks. Her finger poised over the shutter release.

The stallion burst into view. In the zoom lens, she saw his eyes, wild and ringed with white. His nostrils flared as he gasped for breath. Again and again she depressed the shutter release … pulling back to show his sweat streaked coat and straining muscles. Behind him, the herd came into view. Wide-eyed and exhausted, they were falling behind. The mares with foals at foot had dropped to the back of the mob which was starting to string out along the gorge. Quinn realised with a start that the stallion would likely reach the back fence of the yard before the rest of the brumbies were safely inside. The instant he scented the trap, he would turn and try to send the others back the way they had come. If she was just a few seconds late, they’d be gone. Or if the exhausted mares didn’t respond, the stallion could simply bolt and escape alone. They might catch the rest of the herd, but lose the most important horse of all.

She lowered her camera, letting it fall the last few inches to the ground as she tensed her muscles, ready to run.

Below her the stallion shot past the gates without breaking stride or realising that he had run into a trap. Quinn forced herself to remain motionless until the first mares were in the gateway, then she leaped to her feet. She flung herself down the bank, and grabbed the first metal gate, swinging it shut behind the last of the trailing foals. But that one gate was useless without the other. Only when the two were locked together was the trap sprung. She darted to the other side of the gorge to pull the other gate forward. The branches used to hide it were now getting in her way. She tugged at them to free them, aware of every passing second.

Looking up, she saw the stallion halt in his headlong flight as he saw the way ahead was blocked. He reared high into the air, striking out with his powerful front legs, then he dropped to the ground and spun around, his eyes seeking an escape route back the way he had come. With a harsh scream, he flung himself back through the herd towards the gate, teeth slashing to clear his way. Quinn tugged at the gate and felt it give, then catch again. She wasn’t going to make it!

Subconsciously she registered a sound of a car door slamming as she wrapped her fingers around one last branch and pulled with all her might. She was rewarded by the sound of snapping of timber as she dragged it free. Hoofbeats were approaching fast from behind her. Carrie and Justin were almost there. But almost might not be good enough. Then Dan appeared. He ran into the rapidly closing gap and stood there, arms spread wide to block the stallion.

It all happened so very fast.

Carrie and Justin bore down on horseback, whips cracking. But they were still just a fraction too far away to have any effect.

Dan let out a mighty yell and the big stallion suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He swung his head, his eyes wild as he searched for escape. The only way out was past the man standing defiantly in the open gate. The stallion flattened his ears against his head and lunged forward, mouth open and teeth bared.

Quinn froze in fear. Get out of his way, she screamed silently in her head.

Dan moved. He jumped forward, towards the oncoming stallion. With movements almost too fast to see, he raised his rifle, pointed the barrel up at the sky and pulled the trigger.

The crash of the shot caused the stallion to shy away at the last possible second and hurl himself back through his mares looking for an escape in some other direction.

Quinn grabbed the gate and dragged it shut, dropping the metal latch into place with a loud clang. Beside her, Dan slid home the metal bar they had designed for extra strength.

It was done!

The stallion screamed in anger as he tore around the enclosure, desperately searching for a way out. For one heart-stopping moment, he ran straight at the back fence, gathering himself as if to jump to freedom. But at the last minute he swerved away. The rest of brumbies milled about, looking for a way out, but the race down the gorge had taken its toll. Mares stopped moving, their heads hanging in exhaustion as their foals collapsed beside them. The stallion trotted over to the steep cliff face that enclosed him, he pawed at the earth, but there was nowhere for him to go. He turned and followed the line of the back fence, searching for weaknesses, snorting his anger and fear.

Quinn turned to face Dan. He was standing there looking, not at the horses, but at her. His face was alive with emotion. Exhilaration. Joy. Relief. Then Carrie and Justin were with them. Quinn barely had time to notice the blood on Justin’s face before he grabbed Carrie and lifted her high into the air. He spun her around and then dropped her back to earth so he could kiss her. There was much back-slapping and hugging all round, and when Dan grabbed Quinn and hugged her, she thought they would all explode with happiness.

Then she caught a glimpse of movement over his shoulder.

There was no congratulation on Thomas Lawson’s face as he walked into their midst. He stood for a few moments watching the brumbies in the yard. The stallion was still searching for an escape. He flung himself from one side of the trap to the other, his head tossing, and his eyes wild. He slashed with teeth and hooves at the other horses around him. He crashed his sweat-streaked body against the wooden fence, then lifted his head and screamed in anger and frustration.

The park superintendent watched the furious horse for a minute then turned to Dan.

‘So. You’ve caught him. Congratulations. But how the hell do you expect to get that wild animal transported out of the park?’