It takes a while to get the horses into the grooming stalls because they’re all acting ornery. Gertie won’t budge unless you push her, Gus keeps dropping his head, and Claiborne wants to kick anything that gets too close.
“Jeez,” I say. “What did you do to these guys?”
Zoe takes off her riding helmet. “You mean what did they do to us? It was the strangest ride I’ve ever been on! Start. Stop. Start again. Stop. Walk two feet. Stop.”
Brenna takes a brush off the shelf and starts to brush down Elsa, her horse. “It was the perfect pace, if you ask me. And Elsa was a lot easier to handle than Blitzen was.”
“If you went so slow, then why are they sweating so much?” I ask. “It looks like they were racing.”
Sunita gently strokes Gertie’s neck. “I think that’s why Jared brought us back early,” she says. “He said they looked stressed, though he didn’t know why. When we got close to the barn, he made us get down and walk.”
“You walked them back?” I ask.
“Whoa, girl,” Sunita says as Gertie stamps the cement impatiently. The old horse flares her nostrils and breathes fast. I’ve never seen her do that before.
“How long has she been breathing like this?” I ask as I reach for her halter.
“I’m not sure,” Sunita answers. “She was OK when we started, and then she started breathing rapidly like this.”
“The other horses are acting weird, too,” Zoe adds. “Even Claiborne.”
She pats his back, and Claiborne raises his hind foot to kick.
“Yikes!” Zoe says as she scoots out of the way. Instead Claiborne kicks his leg up toward his stomach. Next to him, Elsa paws the ground anxiously.
“Maybe there’s a bug or something going around,” I say. “Starfire is definitely sick. Dr. Mac put him in isolation in the foaling barn. Gertie?”
Suddenly, Gertie coughs. The old mare’s body is quivering. Her eyes roll up in their sockets. Her legs shake. Gus and Claiborne snort and twist their heads, pulling on the cross-ties. Elsa whinnies.
Then Gertie’s front legs buckle. “Oh, no!” I shout. “Get out of the way, Sunita!”
As soon as it starts, it’s over. Gertie stops shaking and collapses to the floor, her legs folding under her. Her neck is stretched at an awkward angle. Her halter is still attached to the cross-tie ropes. Claiborne shrieks in distress and rises up on his hind feet.
“She’s going to choke! Here, help me!” I grab Gertie’s heavy head and try to release the cross-tie. “Brenna, help!”
“I’ll get Dr. Mac,” Sunita shouts.
Brenna helps me hold Gertie’s head while Maggie and Zoe fumble with the cross-ties.
“Lift the head higher!” Maggie says.
Brenna and I strain. Gertie better not wake up or we’ll all be in trouble.
“There!” Maggie says as she and Zoe release the cross-ties at the same time. Gertie’s head and neck suddenly sag, and we lower her to the floor.
“Is she …?” Zoe asks.
I feel for the pulse under Gertie’s jaw just like I’ve seen Dr. Mac do. “No, but her heart is racing.”
“What happened? What’s going on?” Dr. Mac asks as she runs up and kneels next to me.
“She was breathing hard and started shaking,” I say. “The other horses are acting weird, too.”
“Back up, everyone,” Dr. Mac says. “You, too, David—move away.”
We stand in the aisle as Dr. Mac listens to Gertie’s heart and lungs with a stethoscope. She moves down Gertie’s body, listening to her belly, too. Gertie’s eyelids flutter, and she thrashes her legs.
“Look out, she’s waking up!” Maggie says.
Dr. Mac scoots out of the way as Gertie struggles to her feet. The horse looks dazed, like she’s not sure where she is.
Dr. Mac grabs her halter to keep her still. “It’s OK, girl, you’re safe.” She turns to us. “I want to get her out to the paddock by the foaling barn. Any horse acting strange should be brought out there. How are these guys?” she asks, pointing to Gus, Claiborne, and Elsa.
“They’re not right,” I answer quickly. “I think they’re sick.”
Dr. Mac points at Maggie. “I want you kids to wait by the van. I’ll call someone to come and take you home.”
“But—” Zoe starts.
“No buts, Zoe. You don’t have enough experience being around horses to help here. It’s one thing to help with an injured cat or dog, quite another when we’re dealing with a thousand pounds of horse.” Dr. Mac is not fooling around.
The others take off, but I stay with Dr. Mac. She takes the cell phone out of her equipment box and punches in a number, tapping her foot impatiently as she waits for the connection to go through.
“Let me stay,” I ask. “I can help—you know I can.”
Dr. Mac holds up one finger. “Yes, hello,” she says into the phone. “Gabe? It’s J.J. Get down to Quinn’s—stat! We have a situation here. Starfire is having heart problems, another horse just had a seizure, and we have a couple of cases that look like colic. Yes, it’s ugly. Hurry.”
“What is it, Dr. Mac?” I ask as she puts the phone away. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know yet—some kind of strange viral infection, something in the water, or it could be a plant they ate in the pasture. I just hope we can figure it out in time,” she says grimly.
“You don’t mean …”
“Yes, I do. This is serious, David. These horses might be dying. Now go with the others. There is nothing you can do to help around here, and I would feel better if you were home.”
It takes a second for everything to sink in … Gertie’s seizure, Starfire’s heart problem, all the horses acting weird. Then it hits me like a hammer.
“Dr. Mac, I think Trickster’s in trouble, too!”