Caught in Crossfire

“Ping. Ping,” echoed around Chris and Terry.

Bullets ricocheted from tree to tree.

“What the hell.” Terry searched the area to find who shot at them.

Chris slumped forward on the neck of Lightning moments after the bullet whizzed past Terry's ear.

She wrapped her arms around the horses neck to stop her falling out of the saddle.

Lightning shied before taking off at break-neck speed to reach safety.

“Bloody hell.” Terry kicked his heels into the side of his horse to try to catch Lightning before Chris was tossed to the ground.

Or be ripped from the saddle by a low tree branch.

“Chris. Hang on. I'm coming.”

The galloping hooves of Terry's horse beat in time with the fear pounding in Chris' heart.

Each beat echoed in her ears deafening her to the wild ride.

She closed her eyes tightly so she didn't see how fast the ground passed beneath Lightning.

Chris heard the faint call of Terry call to her.

She was lost in a world of fear and pain.

Lightning burst free from the cover of the trees to thunder over the grass paddock on his way home.

“No-o-o.” Terry watched in horror.

He didn't believe what his eyes saw.

“Don't do it, Lightning. Steady up, boy.”

With his heart trying to reach into his mouth Terry watched horse, and rider, sail over the top rail of the fence to the holding yard.

Darkness overcome Chris' body.

During the jump Chris' fingers slackened her grasp around the neck of Lightning.

Lightning propped to a stop sending Chris over his head to the ground.

Darkness completely took over her life.

He whinnied for help while he stood guard over her.

Terry jumped from the saddle of his exhausted horse.

Undid the chain around the gate.

He rushed the Chris' side.

Rolling her over on to her side Terry touched a wet patch on her shirt.

He lifted his hand to find it coated with blood.

“No-o-o. Chris.”

Terry lifted Chris into his arms to carry her toward the house.

“What happened, Terry,” asked one of the ranch hands.

“Chris has been shot. Call for an ambulance.”

Hours later, Chris opened her eyes in a strange, white wall, sterile room.

The smell of antiseptic tickled her nose.

She turned her head to find Terry asleep in an uncomfortable chair near the window. Early morning sunshine glistened through the window to send sparkles across the room.

“Terry.” Chris chocked past her dry throat.

Terry blinked.

He looked around the room.

Groaned.

He straightened his aching body from his night in the chair.

“Welcome back. How are you feeling?”

“What happened. Where am I. Ouch.”

“Lay still. You don't want to bust your stitches. Are you in pain. Will I call the nurse?”

Chris rested back against the pillows with a painful sigh.

“Did Lightning throw me?”

“You were shot.”

“Shot. Why can't they leave me alone.

“Who?”

“My family. They want my money.”

(I'd like to thank the owner of this photo in the use of decorating my work.)