She cut her thoughts off before they forced her inside.
She had to trust him; she knew she had to trust him. It was just that trusting was so hard, especially now that the world was ending and their lives were in danger and all.
Absently, her hand moved to touch the scar on the back of her head, just barely
hidden by hair. If there was ever a reason not to trust. . .
“Forward, to the fence, then stop.”
She pushed her heels into Honey’s side gently. The horse snorted in protest, then
started trotting forward at a good clip. It seemed especially fast to Sian. She would
catch up with the others in no time.
There was a small green box ahead, in the middle of the path, about the size of a
matchbook. It seemed to be made of plastic, though it was hard to tell at such a distance.
Sian ignored it, and cantered again. The horse went faster, almost at a gallop. She was
getting closer. . .
Suddenly, as they approached the green box, Honey’s ears pricked up. He let out
an agitated whinny, then reared up on her back legs.
Sian tried to hold onto the reigns, but wasn’t strong enough to keep her grip. She
fell to the ground, and felt the wind being knocked out of her.
Honey’s front paws fell back to the ground; he took a step backward, away from
the box.
The pressure on her skull was the last thing that Sian remembered before she
blacked out
Sian jerked, startled out of her memories, and faced a boy with long, dishwater
hair and an impish look about him. “Wha?”
He looked over her with assessing eyes, then shook his head. “I was. . . looking
for someone else. Later.” With a sigh, he turned to leave.
“Zazz?”
The boy turned to face her again. “Striper?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought- I’m parked down the road. Let’s go.” He walked away, not sparing
her an extra glance.
“And now, try cantering.” Sian listened to Miss Lennox. After all, she was a
nice lady, and if Sian wanted to compete in the horse-riding contest with all the other
girls, then she had to be on the teacher’s good side.
“Hey!”