The Hollows(28)

The path narrowed again and Madison and her horse fell in behind me. It was silent apart from the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the hard ground and the low rumble of chatter among the riders. Susan was at the front, on a large chestnut gelding, then Frankie, then me.

‘We’re close to Penance now,’ Susan called back to us. ‘The path ahead forks. We’re going to go left and start looping back to where we started.’

I was sure I saw Frankie’s shoulders tense when Susan mentioned the town. Perhaps she was worried about her pony, Magpie, taking the wrong turn. But the animals knew which way to go and, one by one, we went left, the path widening again, another clearing just ahead. I could hear distant traffic and something else close by, a tinkling. Wind chimes? I saw Frankie turn her head towards the sound too, a frown on her face.

And then something went BANG.

It sounded like a gunshot, very close by. A crack, immediately followed by an echo. Everybody turned towards the sound, the horses jittery, one or two of them stopping, flaring their nostrils, backing away from the noise. Magpie was among those that had stopped. She skittered backwards a few steps, almost colliding with my horse. Frankie wore a look of intense concentration, trying to keep control of Magpie. Behind me, I heard someone cry out and turned to see one of the women at the back of the group struggling to stay on her horse, which had reared up. You could feel it: a wave of panic rippling between the animals. Ahead of me, Susan called, ‘Everyone stay calm. These horses—’

There was another bang.

The wave of panic broke.

My horse went up on his back legs, and before I knew it I was on the ground. I hit hard and all the wind went out of me. The world flashed white and then I snapped back to reality, my inner red alert blaring, and I scrambled to get away from the hooves of the horses around me. Madison was thrown too, landing flat on her stomach and lying still for a moment, groaning. It was chaos, all the horses dancing on the spot, only one or two remaining calm. I couldn’t see Frankie. I crawled over to Madison and helped her to the side of the path, worried we were both going to be trampled. Her husband was yelling, asking if she was okay, and Susan was calling out too, imploring people to remain calm, to soothe their horses. I had a throbbing pain in my hip but managed to get to my feet and take hold of the reins of my horse. Now I could see Frankie. Her pony kept rearing up, then hoofing at the ground, and I could see that Frankie was trying not to panic.

The gunshot came again.

This time, Magpie bolted.





Chapter 14


The pony crashed through the line of trees, branches scraping Frankie’s back, and turned in a circle before bolting back the way we had come. Frankie screamed but clung on, her arms wrapped around Magpie’s neck, unable to do anything to stop her. I was frozen for a moment. I looked at my horse. I wasn’t experienced enough to ride after her. I had no choice. I ran.

I pictured the worst: Frankie thrown into a tree, Frankie with a broken spine.

Frankie dead.

I sprinted along the path, stumbling on the uneven ground. The sun was high and cruel, and little black flies swarmed around me like a bad omen. If Frankie was badly hurt it would be all my fault for bringing us here.

‘Frankie!’ I called when I reached the clearing.

And, like a miracle, she responded.

‘Over here.’

I ran past the flat rock and found her beneath a malformed tree on the other side of the clearing, its trunk twisted and scorched as if at some point in the distant past it had been struck by lightning. It bent over her like it was protecting her.

She sat on the ground, a stunned expression on her face. Her pony stood nearby, nose to the ground, calmly chewing on a shrub as if nothing had happened.

I got down on my knees. ‘Are you okay? Where are you hurt? Can you walk?’

She had dirty tear tracks on her cheeks and was mute.

‘Frankie?’

‘I’m fine,’ she whispered.

‘We need to get you to a doctor.’

‘Dad, I’m fine!’ She almost yelled it, which made Magpie glance over at us, as if we were bothering her. Frankie got to her feet and stroked each hand over its opposite shoulder, examining herself.

‘I’m okay,’ she said, and then she started to cry again.

‘Oh, sweetheart.’ I pulled her into an embrace.

‘Ow!’

‘Shit, sorry.’

She smiled through a wince and then looked over my shoulder. Susan was coming towards us on her horse.

‘Everything all right?’ she asked. ‘Anybody hurt?’

‘Dad, don’t make a fuss. Don’t start doing your “I want to talk to your manager” thing.’

‘Okay, okay.’

Susan dismounted and Frankie explained that Magpie had stopped of her own accord.

‘She’s a good girl,’ Susan said, stroking the pony’s neck. ‘Do you feel able to ride back?’

‘They were gunshots, weren’t they?’ I said. It wasn’t a sound I was accustomed to.

Susan nodded. ‘Hunters, I guess.’

‘That close to town?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe it was someone shooting targets. Tin cans or whatever.’ She grew angry. ‘Greg needs to talk to his buddies in Penance. If he wants the town and resort to coexist . . .’