Heart and Soul (rewrite)

Chapter Fourteen

Salvaje followed me for miles. Away from the men, away from the paddocks, away from her father, away from Paloma. Away from all she had ever known.

But she followed, exhausted, as we cantered until we could hear the voices of men no more, then we walked. I grappled with memories. Red hair, a race, a little white ball. It came back scraps, a song, a name, a bay gelding, a roan stallion.

Blue. Blue emerged from the haze of tangled memories. His soft eyes, a striking flash of brown in an otherwise dark face, his white flecked coat, his muscled body, his soft voice and strong legs, his never ending words of encouragement.

I looked at Salvaje, a roan just like Blue, but a different base color. As I watched she stumbled, and fell to her knees. In an instant I was at her side.

"Are you okay, beloved?"

"Fine, Mom. Thanks."

She limped on, and I saw the blood that stained her knees.

"Maybe we should rest." I suggested, and in an instant she was laying down, resting her muzzle on the course grass. I stayed awake, watching carefully for anything that would hurt my little Salvaje. An hour had passed when she stood up, and volunteered to keep watch while I slept. I assured I was fine. In reality my joints ached, a stone had lodged itself between my frog and heel, and my eyes felt scratchy, as if they were full of sand.

That brought back another memory, of a white pipe fence. As we walked I allowed myself to sink into this reverie.

The fence rushed past me and footing flew behind me, big clods of dirt that made a dull, satisfying thud. At first it was just me, the footing, and the fence. Then the grandstands formed, gradually filling with faceless, featureless spectators holding racing programs and pointing out favorite horses. As they pointed, the horses formed behind me. Lean, muscled, shining Thoroughbreds, wearing colorful silk pads and light racing saddles. Each had a jockey crouched above them, but I couldn't feel the familiar weight on my back. Then, came the gates. Cramped, narrow, closed gates. A dead end. Some invisible human forced me in, closing the doors behind me and holding tight to my bit. There was shouting as the rest of the horses were loaded, jockeys encouraging them through the gates, invisible attendants holding their bits as we waited. I rolled my tongue over the metal bar. It tasted sour, strange.

The gate burst open and horses exploded forward, snorting, jostling for a position, ears back, eyes wide, nostrils flared, massive muscles pushing them forward. I watched them go from my starting gate. I wasn't supposed to run them with. This wasn't my job anymore. Besides, my feet hurt too much to run. That was when Salvaje bumped into my shoulder and jolted me back to reality. The track fell away, replaced by barren desert on three sides, a highway before us. In all my years, I had only ever seen one from the safety of a trailer, never having to rely on my own four feet and mind.

I pushed Salvaje back as a passing car blared its horn at us. She gladly complied, standing behind me, peeping out from beneath my tail like a terrified filly. At that moment, I suppose she was.

I nuzzled her, consoling her, then prepared her for the fast paced journey we had ahead of us. We waited until there was a break in traffic, then I pushed her ahead of me, and kept myself between her and oncoming cars. Brakes screamed, the scent of burning rubber filled the air, people yelled out their windows, shaking angry fists while others screamed back, defending us, I suppose. Some people exited their cars, watching us, holding shiny objects to their faces, hands covering their mouths or chests, and...

And I slipped.

The rock in my foot broke my traction, my exhaustion pushed me down all the way. All I could was lay there. Salvaje surged forward: the end was in sight. As she bounded across the last lane, I screamed. My cry reached her ears too slowly, she realized the danger too late.

I watched as a car slammed into her head on, watched as blood exploded across the windshield, watched as she crumpled to the asphalt, her head at an unnatural angle, one side of her skull caved in. I watched as her eyes rolled back in her head. I heard the heart wrenching whinny as she hit the hood, heard the screams of onlookers, heard her dying cries. I heard her call out for me, and resisting my exhaustion, scrambled to my hooves. I limped to her, the stench of blood nauseating me, consuming me, pushing me to run. I fought it with every fiber of my being.

My baby needed me.

I reached her side and nuzzled her gently. Her violent convulsions slowed, her pained eye met mine for a fraction of an instant, and a love beyond words, a love so powerful it ached, passed between us. Then she was gone. My beautiful Salvaje. Gone.

Two of my dearest possessions in less than a week. Why me? I stood by Salvaje, nuzzling her, crooning to her, trying not to look at her crushed body. My beautiful yearling, the striking roan filly, the wild Thoroughbred, my flesh, my blood, my body, my soul, torn from me by a human.

Humans.

Every woe that had ever befallen me had been due to them. They used whips and spurs, made us run until we ached, then ran us some more. They sent out the metal bird, they captured Paloma, they killed both my fillies. As for Rio? I could only hope he was safe.

A man approached, slowly, his shining box in hand. He whispered to me.

"Hey, pretty mama. Are you okay? I'm so sorry about your baby." He looked at the carcass at my feet. "She was beautiful."

I watched him warily, ears pinned. He stepped forward. I only watched. He took another step closer.

Too close.

Ears pressed flat against my poll I erupted forward, mouth gaping open, a terrible scream ripped forth from my throat. I screamed for Azulejo, for Salvaje, for Rio, for Paloma, for my lost memories, for the downfall of humankind, for every atrocity committed to every horse that ever suffered at the hands of man.

He fell back, hands held out before him, the strange box falling from his grasp. I landed beside him, all four feet inches from his body. But I kept running. My exhaustion fell away, the rock lodged in my foot became nothing, my eyes became clear, as did a single thought that filled my mind, consumed my being.

Man didn't deserve to live.