Knifepoint by Alex Van Tol

Author:Alex Van Tol
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: JUV000000, book
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2010-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Not much. Just a bit. And with it, my heart gives a sudden lurch and lands in my stomach. I forgot that I had loosened off Whiskey’s saddle. How could I forget?

Well, really. It’s not like I could’ve stood there and tightened up her cinch while Darren-the-wacko was smashing my lifeline to smithereens. There wasn’t time.

I feel the saddle slip again, and I yank myself in the other direction. I might be able to keep it straight just by jerking it back into place every time it slips. Darren’s outraged shouts follow us as we plunge down the trail. He’s fast, for a guy who’s just had his face rearranged. Not as fast as the horse.

But if I fall off… The saddle slips again, and a blast of adrenaline rockets through my body.

My mind races, flipping through choices like a stack of cards. I could slow to a walk and try to yank the saddle back into place. But Darren might catch up—and the saddle would still be loose, besides. Or I could quickly dismount, tighten the cinch and jump back on before Darren catches me. Right. With these shaking fingers? Or…I could just see how far I can go with a loose cinch.

Maybe— Without warning, the saddle slides clean around Whiskey’s barrel, taking me with it. On my way down, I grab for her mane and halter. Small bushes whip my face as I find myself suddenly at ground level. I duck and shut my eyes.

My grabbing arms pull Whiskey’s head to the side. Fists full of mane and rope, I heave and scramble up onto her back.

But she’s not having any of it. Like any horse, she knows the saddle belongs on her back, not on her belly. Whiskey bucks, trying to get free of the strange sensation. She’s scared. I’m scared.

She bucks again. I cling.

She runs faster. Realizing she’s still stuck with the saddle, she bucks again, serious this time. She throws her head down at the same moment that her rear comes up. I can’t hang on. With a heavy thump, Whiskey’s butt knocks me clean off her back, like a catapult. I cartwheel into space.

I hit the ground with a whump and lie there, gasping for air. I can’t get any. Someone’s emptied out my lungs and tied off my throat. I hear Whiskey’s hoofbeats as she thunders off down the path. Unable to breathe, I swirl into darkness.

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