Page 46 of Wild Horses
Tyler’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his hands hurt. The road ahead blurred as he pictured Leo’s face. Tyler pushed at the speed limit, his foot heavy on the throttle. The speedometer edged higher and higher as he tempted fate.
The kilometres ticked by in a haze of worry.
Tyler cursed the distance between him and his son.
If only he could teleport himself to Currawong Creek.
He thought of all the frantic, unanswered calls he’d made.
Each voicemail, each silence on the other end of the line, twisted the knot in his stomach tighter.
Hours later the familiar turn-off came into view and Tyler veered into the Currawong Creek gateway.
He barely slowed, his car skidding to a stop in the car park with a spray of gravel.
He stepped out into steady rain. To the northwest the sky was a mass of dark clouds.
Lightning cracked ominously over the Bunyas.
The very air seemed to be holding its breath as the storm tracked nearer.
Maggie was hitching a float to the ute, her raincoat flapping in the wind. She glanced up, a smile forming as she recognised Tyler. ‘What brings you out here in this weather?’ She had to shout to be heard over the wind.
Tyler approached her, water streaming down his face. ‘Maggie, where’s Leo? I tried calling, but I couldn’t get through.’
‘It’ll be because of this damn storm.’ Maggie expertly secured the float and checked its lights.
‘Clare, Tom and most of the kids have gone to the Big Skies Music Festival out of Dalby. Crazy, eh, considering the forecast?’ She straightened up, wiping her hands on her coat, and glanced skywards.
‘Leo had more sense. He stayed behind to work with Lofty.’ She took a second look at Tyler. ‘Why are you wearing that white coat?’
Tyler ignored her question as relief flooded him. Leo was safe. ‘And what about Christy? Did she go to the festival too?’
Maggie’s demeanour shifted, her friendliness evaporating. ‘How should I know?’ she snapped. ‘You should have rung before you came.’
‘I told you – I tried,’ he barked back, frustration brimming over.
Maggie gave him a cold look. ‘I suppose you know Christy’s leaving at the end of the term? Heading back to St Luke’s College to join her teacher boyfriend.’ She bounced on the coupling to test it. ‘He seems like a good bloke, that Andrew.’
‘He was here?’
‘He sure was. Came to talk Christy into going back to Sydney.’ Maggie climbed into the ute and turned over the ignition. ‘I always said she wouldn’t be able to hack it here. Anyway, I’m off to pick up a new horse.’ And with that she slammed the driver’s door shut and took off slowly down the drive.
Tyler stood in the pouring rain, gobsmacked by Maggie’s news about Christy leaving, although he knew he had no right to be.
The rain redoubled its efforts to drown him.
He’d worry about Christy later, once he knew Leo was safe.
Tyler hurried up the path towards the yards, his white chef shoes turning brown as he splashed through puddles.
When he reached the stables, the place seemed deserted, except for a few horses. No sign of Leo or Lofty. Tyler remembered how Leo liked riding in the mountains when it stormed, the thrill of it, the way it made him feel alive.
He paced the length of the stables, peering into the paddocks for any sign of movement.
But driving rain and low cloud had reduced visibility to just a few metres.
He had to trust that Leo would return soon.
The mountains were no place to be in weather like this.
Tyler leaned against a post, shivering in his wet clothes.
He was here now, and he’d wait for Leo, no matter how long it took. Urgency had given way to grim patience.
The clouds grew even darker and more menacing, turning daytime into an ominous twilight.
The rumble of thunder sounded. It was only two o’clock, but Tyler could barely see the outline of the mountains.
The wind howled, tugging at the loose-box doors.
What if Leo had fallen off out there somewhere?
What if he was lying hurt in the rain? Tyler tried ringing him again.
Still nothing. Shit, no wonder – his phone was out of charge.
Tyler made up his mind. He couldn’t just stand around and wait.
Time to take a horse and go looking for his son.
He headed for the tack room to fetch Spirit’s bridle and saddle. Lightning slashed the sky, illuminating the world in a brief, blinding flash. A sharp crack split the air. Tyler flinched. That sounded close – and a little strange. The sound was too sharp, too sudden.
He squinted into the distance, trying to pierce the gloom. Another crack rang out and the wooden beam next to him splintered, fragments of wood flying past his face. His heart lurched as realisation dawned. It wasn’t a thunderclap – it was a gunshot.
Instinct took over. Tyler dived behind a stack of hay bales, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
Adrenaline sharpened his senses as his eyes darted across the rain-soaked landscape.
No sign of the shooter, just dark shapes amid the relentless downpour.
A lightning flash lit up the scene, and for a split second, he saw movement – a figure pressed against the stable wall.
Another shot thumped into the hay beside him.
Tyler sprinted around the corner of the building.
He almost lost his balance, slipping on the slick verandah before finding cover behind a stable door.
He ducked, calculating his next move, every muscle coiled like a spring.
He needed to stay one step ahead to survive and he needed to somehow protect Leo, who’d surely return from his ride soon.
A sudden thought sent a bolt of fear through him.
What if the gunman had already hurt Leo?
The next few minutes felt like an eternity.
Tyler’s breath came in short, controlled bursts, his eyes scanning every shadow, every flicker of movement.
The stables provided some cover, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough if he couldn’t find a way to outmanoeuvre his pursuer. It would just be a matter of time.
Rain pounded on the roof, a relentless rhythm that matched his racing heart.
Tyler weighed up his options. The feed room was just a few metres away.
Was it worth the risk? Then he thought of the hay rakes and pitchforks inside.
Poor weapons against a pistol, but better than nothing.
He could almost feel the shooter closing in.
Well, he wouldn’t huddle like a sitting duck for that monster to strike.
It was Ricky Callan, he was sure of it, and a hot rage boiled within him.
Tyler took a mighty breath and dashed for the feed room, half-expecting not to make it.
He grabbed the strongest pitchfork, crouched behind a steel grain storage bin and waited.
Footsteps sounded, coming closer. A shadow stopped at the door and Tyler forgot to breathe. Then a figure stepped into the room.
Tyler didn’t hesitate. He swung the pitchfork with all his might, two metal prongs catching the intruder on the side of the head.
A deep, bleeding gash opened above his left eye.
Callan staggered, a guttural cry of pain escaping his lips.
Then Tyler was upon him, raining down blows and wrestling for the gun.
Callan dropped his weapon and Tyler made a wild grab for it. His fingers brushed the cold metal, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Callan kicked it aside, sending the gun skidding across the floor, and they both lunged for it at once.
Tyler lost his balance. Callan regained control of the gun, squinted with his one good eye and took aim. Tyler bolted for the doorway as a shot rang out. The bullet whizzed past his ear and he kept on running, searching for a refuge. The horses in their stalls whinnied and snorted and kicked.
Tyler squeezed into the narrow space between the stock tank and the stables’ outer wall.
He needed a moment to regroup, to plan his next move.
He crouched in the shadows, gulping lungfuls of air, searching for a way to turn the tables on his attacker.
He’d dropped the pitchfork in the struggle, so he didn’t even have that inadequate weapon.
Tyler strained to hear, trying to locate the shooter, but the sound of the storm drowned everything else out.
He’d need to rely on his eyes and intuition now.
Then a flicker of movement caught his attention.
He turned his head, squinting through the rain and darkness.
Was there anybody out there? Were the shadows playing tricks on him?
His heart lurched as he saw a horse and rider emerge from the gloom.
Of all the terrible timing. Leo was returning from his ride, completely unaware of the danger awaiting him.
He had to warn Leo somehow – keep him away from the stables. His pulse quickened and with a final, determined breath he made his move. Breaking cover, Tyler rushed into the open, waving his arms and shouting, ‘Leo! Go back! Run!’