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“No! We’re not doing this!” Phoenix’s voice caught as despair infected her. She snatched the coiled whip from the ground and unfurled it, moving away from Wiri far enough to release it with a resounding crack. The mare twitched and her eyes opened. Phoenix cracked it again. The mare strained, diverting the energy from her stomach to her legs. Nature wired her to avoid danger at all costs. A cracking whip constituted a potential threat, even though it didn’t touch her.
She swayed as she lifted, balancing her weight on her huge abdomen. Wiri clung to the fragile hoof, and it moved as the mare’s centre of gravity shifted. “That’s it!” Phoenix yelled. “Wiri, watch out for her feet.”
The mare drew her legs beneath her. Fresh hope surged through Wiri as she twitched her front hooves, preparing to dig in and stand. She dragged them one at a time into position, her body swaying as she threatened to lie flat and give up the fight.
“No, you don’t!” Phoenix dropped the whip and pressed the advantage, slapping the exposed side of the mare’s neck and shoulders. “Up! Come on,” she pleaded. “Just stand once. Come on!”
The mare’s muzzle dipped to the ground, and she rested, her chin pivoting in the dirt like a digger balanced against the counterweight of its bulk. “Up!” Phoenix demanded. She worried at the mare’s neck and shoulders, moving her palm over the newly exposed side of her stomach. “Come on, do it for your baby,” she pleaded. “Again!”
The front hooves gained purchase in the dirt and the tendons tightened. She lifted her chest from the floor and the hoof shifted again, twisting beneath Wiri’s fingers.
“She’s going up!” Elation filled Phoenix’s cry. The mare caught hold of her energy and dug in hard. “Get ready, Wiri!”
He tried to stand, alarmed, when he realised he couldn’t feel his knees. Numbness had spread through his legs and switched off contact with his brain. He swore, a vile swearword dragged from the annals of the school’s changing rooms. Phoenix glanced back at him as the mare’s spine arched inwards and she funnelled power into her haunches. Wiri saw the moment Phoenix realised he was in difficulty, his jaw hanging slack and wordless as he saw into the future. The mare would finally rise, batting him aside with her rump. He’d let go of the hoof and be unable to stand, his legs filling with the venom of a hive of tingling bee stings.
Phoenix disappeared from his view and he sensed her hands grip beneath his armpits. “I’ve got you,” she breathed into his ear. His arm muscles ached and his spine had moved beyond the point of pain to a searing, all-consuming agony. He couldn’t thank her, the words inaccessible to his tired brain as he hung onto the single hoof as the mare’s flanks rose in his vision.
Phoenix grunted as she hoisted Wiri’s weight. His brain commanded his feet, trying to place them as they rose as one. The tingling began in his calves as the blood flooded his muscles, gripping every nerve ending in an unforgiving vice. Phoenix extended her arms around his torso, linking her fingers together at his sternum. The hoof twisted in his fingers and he inhaled with enough force to break Phoenix’s grip. The mare’s tail swished in his face, blinding him with a mass of wiry hair which left stray threads across his sweating cheeks.
“She’s up!” Phoenix squeaked in his ear and he couldn’t reply. The wide flank arced around as the mare shifted her hooves. They went with her, Phoenix holding Wiri and his feet moving like drums filled with concrete. Every step sent another flutter of agony through his legs until nothing but pain and white noise occupied every corner of his mind.
Then the mare went down again, bending her front legs and plummeting to earth hard. Wiri kept hold of the hoof, but the force threw him sideways until his body twisted and he landed on his knees, his left foot trapped beneath Phoenix’s fallen body. His right hand slipped, his fingers opening in an unauthorised release and he cried out in rage. The fingers of his left hand clung to the knotty hoof as though glued to it. The twist in his spine filled his mind with nothing but the sound of his own agony.
“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Phoenix staggered up behind him and ran to his right side. “Look, look!” she urged. “It worked.”
Wiri hacked on the dust in his lungs. He peered through the murk of dirt and tears to see the hoof now joined to a fetlock and a long, wiry shin. Another had joined it. The movement had caused a release, and the mare strained again. Amniotic fluid flooded from her pelvic canal, running up Wiri’s forearm and making his bandage slick. He clasped his right hand around the ridges of bone and set his jaw.
Phoenix’s hair fluttered against his cheek as she fixed both hands around the exposed shin. Her black curls blocked his view and smothered him with a ticklish cloud of dust and the remnants of his borrowed hair gel. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of her shoulder touching his as they worked in tandem.
“Now!” Phoenix cried. They pulled together, allying with the mare as she dug deep to push her foal into the world. When the contraction stopped, they halted, Wiri relying on Phoenix’s direction. “Gentle, gentle,” she instructed, turning her head so her cheek brushed his eyebrow.
Wiri nodded his head, unable to speak. A combination of exhaustion, tranquillisers and stress had depleted his energy reserves. He had nothing left, clinging to the protruding hooves because Phoenix hadn’t told him yet to let go.
The mare rested for less than ten seconds, her chest heaving and her body rocking from front to back like a tidal swell. The foal’s hooves bobbed like a loose catamaran and the teenagers hung on together. With a last heave, something gave deep inside the mare’s body and the foal rushed towards them. A tangle of bones hit Wiri in the chest, knocking him backwards onto the dry earth. Phoenix gasped and collapsed across his legs with a groan. “It’s out,” she breathed. “It’s out.”
Winded, Wiri stared up at the sky. Fluffy white clouds scudded in front of his face, blurred by his right eye. Laden black ones chased them, rounding them up and spreading them across the mountain like a blanket. “Rain’s coming,” he murmured, the words sticking in his throat.
“Help me, quick!” Phoenix sounded breathless, her words rimmed with panic. “Get up, Wiri. Help me with this foal.”
Wiri rolled onto his side and forced his left arm to take his weight. It took three gargantuan heaves to get himself onto his knees. Phoenix fought the amniotic sac, peeling swathes of it from the foal’s body as though trying to order stretchy, uncooperative wool. “I don’t think it’s breathing,” she whispered. “This is bad. This is terrible.”
The mare remained on her stomach, her front legs curled around her as though resting. Her muzzle sank to the ground and stayed there, her eyes closed. But she was alive. Wiri scrabbled across the dirt on his knees to reach Phoenix. She cradled the foal’s head in her lap and a tear leaked from her left eye and bounced off her cheek.
“Don’t give up,” Wiri huffed, his ribs painful and his head thudding. “We’ve come too far.” He took the weight of the foal’s heavy skull and nudged her to move aside. “Rub its body. Get the circulation going.” She obeyed, shifting aside and rubbing her hands over his matted fur. The fluid dried and left his coat spiky and dull.
Wiri lifted the slender muzzle and pulled open the foal’s mouth. He scooped out the fluid with his left hand and flattened the lolling tongue to check behind it. “Rub its chest.” He turned his head to direct Phoenix, and she obeyed, slipping her hand between the spindly front legs and rocking the tiny body with the rhythmic action. Sharp teeth clamped down over Wiri’s sore finger and he yelped. The foal jerked as he withdrew his hand, the bandage an unsightly grey. “Come on!” Wiri pleaded. “I’m not giving mouth to mouth to a dude!”
Phoenix’s sudden giggle startled him. “It’s a girl,” she said. Relief sparkled in her eyes as she met his gaze. “She’s good. She’s moving.”
The mare remained still. Phoenix ran around behind Wiri and dropped to her knees to stroke the wide forehead. The mare’s head bounced, but she didn’t open her eyes. “I think she’s just exhausted.” Phoenix blew out a breath.
“She needs to get up soon, though.” Wiri kept hold of the long skull, stroking the stubby hairs across the foal’s ears. “Help me drag this baby towards her face. I need her out of the way in case she stands and kicks her.”
Phoenix returned and together they dragged the foal towards the mare’s muzzle. The slender legs gave a feckless thrash as the infant fought against an unknown foe without energy. The mare looked spent, her eyes closed and her ears splayed on either side of her head as though she’d relinquished all natural sense of alertness. A nearby snort signified the watchfulness of the herd as they waited on the other side of the fence. The stamp of a hoof made the mare open her eyes.
“Look at your baby.” Phoenix leaned across the foal to stroke the mother’s ridged nose. “She’s beautiful.” The fluffy white foal bobbed her weighty head as though in answer and the mare’s ears flicked forward.
Wiri extracted himself from beneath the white body and dragged himself backwards using his arms. When he lost his balance and tipped, he didn’t bother to right himself but laid on his back, his arms and legs splayed.
“High five.” Phoenix slumped down next to him and gave a light slap to his cheek. She rested her head on his shoulder. “That’s what Mac would do.”
“Hmmm.” Wiri kept his eyes closed. “And I wouldn’t have the energy to slap him back.”
Phoenix shot upright, placing her hands against his ribs. “Oh, look. She’s sniffing her baby.”
“Yep.” Wiri didn’t attempt to open his eyes or rise to a sitting position. “I feel like a steam roller ran over me,” he murmured.
Phoenix twisted on her bottom. “You’ve ripped the stitches in your finger. It’s bleeding.” She lifted his hand and cradled it in hers. He grunted in response, no longer caring. “We should call your boss again.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t use Mac’s phone unless you know the number off by heart.”
“It’s in my phone.” Wiri swallowed, his Adam’s apple giving a lazy bob in his scratchy, parched throat. “Back pocket. I left it ringing, but it probably went to voicemail. All he’ll hear is grunting.”
Phoenix laid his hand on the ground with care. She dug behind him, biting her lip as he groaned in pain. “Sorry. Which back pocket? This one or the other side?”
His eyeballs moved beneath his lids as he tried to remember. “Other one,” he replied with a sigh. His lips stretched into a smile. “Front one, actually. Both. Have a good poke around.”
Phoenix snorted. “In your dreams. At least I know you’re fine.” She crawled around his head and shoved at his waist to lift his body enough to dig into his pocket. The phone slid free, bumping against his aching muscles on its way past. Phoenix sat back in the dirt and crossed her legs. “You’ve broken the screen.” She cocked her head, and he opened one eye to see her expression of pity.
He exhaled, his chest falling. “Story of my life,” he sighed. “Four steps forward and five steps backwards.”
Phoenix nudged his arm with the back of her hand. She frowned at the screen as the first spot of rain left a splat in the centre. “You have me,” she concluded without looking up at him. “You need nothing else.”
Wiri smiled and forced himself to study the rain clouds gathering above his face. Not only had he hurt his eye and his back, bust his stitches and ruined another set of clothes, he’d also broken his phone. Pay day loomed, and he didn’t expect cash to flood his bank account. He sighed as a rabbit shaped black cloud overtook and demolished a streak of white. “I’m so screwed,” he breathed.
“Hello?” Phoenix had connected with someone and Wiri heard the one-sided conversation. “Is that Wiri’s boss?” She paused while he answered. “Yes, he tried to call earlier, but he couldn’t get through to you. The pregnant mare got into difficulty and became cast. We drove up because we thought we could help her. I’m sorry, but I needed to move your cattle and horses, and then we stayed with the mare and helped her to foal.” She bit her lower lip and Wiri turned his head to find her staring at him. “I’ve got a bit of a problem now.”
He lifted his hand to tell her he was just resting. A flash of lightning flickered overhead, forking and leaving its imprint on his eyeballs. He lifted his left hand to cover his eyes and noticed the blood staining his middle and index fingers. “Oh, great!” he whispered to the angry God he felt sure hated him.
