Galloping Gunfire

Galloping Gunfire Part 3

Alaska galloped. I heard the clicking sound of the metal leg as her hooves pounded on the soft grass - a sound I had grown used to over the past year. Alaska was stronger than ever; I could put a saddle on her and even practice show jumping! Our next goal was to enter a competition. But before that, we had to train. Training a horse with 3 legs was much harder than a horse with 4. We had to practice every day, nonstop, for hours and hours. It was harsh, but Alaska and I grew closer each day, and soon we were ready for any challenges that faced us.

In our first competition since Alaska's accident, we came third! We got a couple of strange looks from the judges, but they must have been quite impressed! When we got home that evening, I pinned the ribbon we had received onto my pin board. For the first time since Alaska got her new leg, I smiled my biggest smile. It was the same smile I had smiled just before the accident, as we had ridden towards the house. All of a sudden, flashbacks played in my mind. I could feel tears well up in my eyes as memories flooded into my brain, memories of gunfire, blood and tears. The word 'gunfire' repeated itself over and over in my head. The smile vanished from my face. Gunfire.

The memory was as clear as pure, fresh water. I had heard a pop. That pop was the sound of a gun. Someone shot Alaska that night. As I looked through the window in the front door, I had briefly seen a silhouette under the tree on the other side of the field. I was in such a huge panic that I had barely noticed it. That figure must have been holding a gun. The loss of Alaska's back leg was not an accident. Someone shot her on purpose.

I had to find that someone.