Wild Ride

A/N Okay, so I just sort of...wrote. The endings pretty abrupt and really bad because I just decided at one point to wrap it up. So, this one needs a lot of work. Grammar advice would be awesome, too.

"You can ride Harmony when you finish up your stalls," Mom told me with her waggling finger. I groaned inwardly, not daring to let her hear the remarks rebounding inside my head. It wasn't that I minded too much, but by the time I finished, I'd miss the sunrise.

It was late July, so the sun was up around 6:00. We lived on a farm, so I woke every morning a good hour before it rose. Normally, it seemed like I would have time to ride. Right? Wrong. It usually took me a few hours to do the stall cleaning and the rest of the chores. We had seven stalls, and four of those were boarders. So without fail, every morning was spent mucking out the stalls, filling the water buckets, feeding.... The list went on and on.

Miraculously, I finished by the time my younger sister's feet pounded down our gravel drive. "Chrissy! It's 9:00!" She reminded me. This was a daily occurrence, because I always led her around for a short ride at 9:00. It was only a 10-minute thing, but she sure looked forward to it.

"Just a second," I said, wiping the perspiration off my glittering forehead. I readjusted my baseball cap and dumped the wheelbarrow in the growing pile of smelly manure. When I came back, she had already taken Harmony out of the run-in and was just finishing the snap on her crossties.

"Lissie! You know Mom told you not to take out Harmony yourself!" But it was hard to be mad at her, and when she sent those puppy dog eyes my way, I couldn't help but feel my heart melt.

"But Mommy says that when I'm 6, I can," Lissie told me with those adoring eyes.

"But you're not 6 until next month," I reminded her with a bemused expression.

"So?" She frowned, as if that was of mild importance. To her, it wasn't. "I'm almost 6, and I can already read," Lissie informed me with a gloating expression nearly equal to the one that regularly adorned my brother's 17 year old face.

I gave up on the issue; it was never any use arguing with Lissie. She never found the point to the other side of the argument, and she would repeat the same thing over and over again for hours. I know, because I've tried. If leaving for back up counts as surrendering, she won.

I grabbed both the colorful reins and the lead shank. One for me to hold on to so as to be in control, and one for her so she thought she was in control. Lissie could probably ride by herself now, but I still acted as the protective parent when my precious cargo was on board. The hackamore was already set up by the eager little'un, and it thrilled me that Harmony was always so patient with her. I owed her a good, long canter later.

Our little walk passed quite smoothly, and it was near 9:30 when we finally pulled back into the barn. This time, Harmony's mane was chock-full of wildflowers and grass, courtesy of the midget on her back. "Come on down," I told her with a grin, heaving her off of Harmony's five foot back. "You're getting big. Go tell Mommy that I finished up in the barn, and I'm going to take Harmony down to the trailhead. The park is finally done clearing it." She nodded cheerfully and skipped off down the aisle. I sighed as I watched her go, and suddenly I wasn't in a hurry to leave. It was strange to think that she would be all grown up before long, and I knew I ought to spend more time with her while I could.

But the new trails were on my mind again, and I swung up into the creaky saddle and headed for the edge of our field. We bordered the Railton Community Park, and it had its benefits. Like 50 acres of trails, some of which I planned to tackle now.

"I'll be back by noon!" I hollered over my shoulder to the bent figure of my mother. She was probably replanting her daffodils after that strange windstorm last week. Harmony trotted straight towards the gate while I fumbled with Lissie's reins - I had forgotten to switch the rubber rainbow ones for my leather black pair. Finally I got the buckle undone, right in time to steer Harmony out of the meager traffic our country road had to offer. "Other way," I told her, and we changed our course by a good 90 degrees.

As soon as we got into the cool trees, I breathed out a content sigh. I hadn't realized how hot it was until we reached the shade. I let my dirty sweater hang off my shoulders by a few threads, and we slowly plodded along the dirt, taking shortcuts through the undergrowth every now and then.

"Hold on, Harmony," I said after a quarter-hour had passed. I hopped down from his back and took my sweater off the rest of the way. I tied it to the back of my saddle, straight on the clasp for my nonexistent saddlebags. Why they had those clasps on an English saddle was a mystery to me, but it was a nice place to put my shedded layers. I was just finishing the tie when a flash of blue caught my attention. My head jolted up, and I scanned the forest for the flicker of light. After a full-around scan with no sight of the blue, I saw it bolt out of sight. I was getting a little worried now. Nobody around here ever seemed to feel the need to hide, so I wagered a guess that this wasn't one of the regular trail riders. I checked my front pocket for my phone, and was pleased to see that I had remembered to grab it. Mom wasn't completely paranoid, but she wasn't about to let me near the trails without some sort of communication.

I hopped back on in one jerky motion, much faster than normal. "Come on, boy," I said in a low undertone, and I trotted off in the direction we had been heading, glancing over my shoulder in the area I had seen the dark color. But nothing was present, so I continued on my ride, dismissing the flash of blue from my mind.

The trail ride lasted a good hour and a half, and I was pleased to see all the work the forest rangers and volunteers had put into clearing out the fallen tree limbs. The trails were nearly spotless, save for one large trunk that Harmony and I cleared at a canter. We were heading back the same way we had come, and I was beginning to have an uneasy feeling somewhere in my abdomen. It felt like someone was watching. I twisted and turned in the saddle, but there was nobody there. Still, I knew there was something wrong, because Harmony's ears were flicking back and forth, waiting for instructions, and her breathing came in shorter increments. "Trot," I instructed with a sharp bump, and she jerked herself into a trot far stiffer than normal. It took effort now to keep her going, and her ears were pasted forward.

All of a sudden, a rock flung itself into view sailing straight over Harmony's head. I kicked my right foot out of the stirrup and hugged the saddle, none too soon. I knew I would be praising my reflexes later. I was also grateful that I still clung to those rainbow reins, because my mount decided this trail ride had lasted long enough. She crow hopped in place, and tried to spin around a make a break from the direction we had just been riding from. "No," I told her with a shaky voice, forcing her to stand still. It took a bit of time, especially since part of my attention was drifting to the area in front of us the rock had came from. Still, she could see nobody.

Harmony reared up and spun again, and I dared not pull on the reins for fear of going over backwards. I got her to a stop a few yards away, but we were facing away from the entrance now. As a result, I didn't see when another rock came careening towards me, this one hitting me solidly in the back of my helmet, right near my left ear. I fell off Harmony, and she made a break for it.

I landed on my right hand, and I could feel my wrist snap back as it fell in contact with the gnarly stump my back narrowly missed. A sharp pain shot up my arm, but I lay partially covered under the fern in silence for fear of being noticed. I could see Harmony stop a hundred yards away when she finally realized I wasn't aboard, and she turned towards me. But she didn't move a step, and we shared the same view of the flash of blue I saw between the fern leaves. I could make out a man, older than me, but walking with a straight back. I couldn't tell from this distance, but he looked to be middle aged, and rather tall. Overall, a very menacing sight from about a football field away. As he got closer, I could see a slingshot in his hand, though he seemed to be clutching something else.

I knew he had seen me at that point, so my hiding spot was useless. I wanted to throw up from the pain, but I forced my wrist to twist and raise itself to my mouth, so I could stick my two pinkies in the corners of my lips. A loud whistle sounded, and Harmony looked up. I sounded it again, and she came trotting, though she still looked wary. I lowered my painful wrist to the ground, and reached for the cell phone - that was in my pocket. My right pocket. As my right hand was useless and my left hand was having a hard time reaching into the tight quarters of my jeans, I couldn't use the phone.

The man was getting closer, and I was oddly pleased to see he didn't bear a gun. But he still had something clutched in his hand, and I was worried. He no longer walked - he was jogging almost as fast as Harmony trotted, though her strides were shortening. "Come on, Harmony!" I shouted desperately, somehow managing to stand up. My head reeled from the stone, and my hand hurt from the fall, and overall, I felt like I was going to faint. But that wasn't about to happen.

Harmony sped up, and she got to me when the man was still coming, increasing his pace with every stride. I could see him in detail now, his face grotesquely distorted by a large purple scar running down his cheek and coming to a stop at the corner of his mouth. His beady black eyes showed no warmth, and I began to quake, not even noticing Harmony until she neighed loudly.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I flung my foot into the stirrup, managing to catch the toe and the edge of the tread. I would later wonder how I did it, but I held on with both hands a flung myself on. I was acting in desperation, and fight or flight mode was on. My wrist was throbbing, but I barely noticed it. There was a side trail between the man and I, and I acted on impulse. I clenched her shoulders with my knees and kicked her sides forcefully, one boot not even in the stirrup. She jumped into action, and I nearly tumbled over her head. My tight knees and iron grip on her mane saved me, and we were still in one piece as we dashed towards the trail. I lost the other stirrup at this point, and my right arm dangled uselessly by my side, every stride hitting it against my tired legs. But he was closing in fast, and I could see now that he could push me over if he got to me in time. At this point, I yanked the reins to a left, and she took to the underbrush, barely making it over the small downed tree in our way. We flashed by the man, who had finally pulled out the pocketknife he had held tight in his fist. I prayed to God that he wouldn't heave it at us, for he had proved to have good aim when it came to the slingshot.

Somehow we made it out and raced for home. I didn't look around once, but galloped into our yard all the same. I didn't feel better until I could feel the awful throbbing of both my wrist and head once more. Then I felt safe.