by Terri Farley
The ear-piercing sound made her feel sorry for the animal.
What now? Would he remain pinned there, or would the mud give way enough that he could jam the rest of his body through? Would he come after her and Hoku?
Be sensible, Darby told herself. The pig was huge. He wouldn’t make it through the space between the fence rail and the ground. Even if the fence broke and he made it in, she could climb out.
Wrong, she thought. She would not leave Hoku. What did a range-reared mustang know about a rain-forest pig?
Even though the boar would have to be crazy to charge an animal so much bigger, he was sick. She didn’t have to be a vet to see that. And if he was sick with rabies, his brain was inflamed. He wouldn’t know he was doing something dangerous.
The whole fence rocked as the boar shoved against it.
Hoku lowered her head. Her ears flicked in all directions. She was angry at this intruder, but she didn’t know what to do about him.
“It’s okay, girl,” Darby lied to her horse. Then she tried to make a plan.
If the boar got through, he’d run away from the gate. Then she’d dash over, grab Hoku’s lead, and—would she have time to unbolt the gate and slip through before the boar swung his bulk around and barreled after them?
It would take about a minute, but the boar was having a hard time handling his own body. She and Hoku might make it. Might.
Hoku reared, striking at the fence. Then she circled toward Darby, rolling her eyes before she made a feint at jumping.
The filly had the right idea. If the pig came in here, she’d jump out. But the corral had been built with such escape in mind. The fence was tall. If Hoku got hung up on the top rail…
Darby shuddered. Then she climbed the fence.
“You stay there,” she ordered the filly.
Darby began crab-walking on the second highest rail. She stopped when she got close enough to have a really good view of the pig. He’d redirected his shoving to the first section of fence to the right of the gate.
That meant…Darby ignored the squealing and huffing just below her and tried to focus. If she opened the bolt on the gate, but didn’t swing it wide, she’d save time. She and Hoku could be a few more seconds ahead of those tusks.
She slid open the bolt, and for a second, Darby was sure the boar hadn’t even noticed. But he had. His narrow head lay against the ground and one eye tracked her movement. The fence swayed from his efforts, but Darby stayed balanced until one of his tusks snagged on the wood.
If she hadn’t seen it happen, she wouldn’t have grabbed on to the fence with all her might. As it was, she swayed on the gate as it swung open and slammed closed.
But the pig didn’t realize he had a way in.
Darby made her way back to Hoku, gave the filly a quick smooch as she passed her, then stopped at the rail-top spot where Hoku had come to her, begging to be ridden, yesterday.
For an instant, she considered trying it, but then she gave up. This wasn’t the right time to try to ride Hoku. Another horse, rider, and boar could end up tangled on the rain-forest floor.
Darby climbed down off the fence and tightened her ponytail.
The rain forest was silent, as if the birds were watching the boar’s noisy performance and her quiet one.
Hoku gave a worried nicker, then came to her.
Grabbing Hoku’s lead rope, Darby glanced toward the pig. He’d rocked one of his shoulders underneath the fence. She wasn’t sure, but she thought that was the widest part of his body.
Darby filled her left hand with rocks, and wrapped the tangerine-and-white lead rope around her right.
She clucked at Hoku, but the filly’s neck and flanks were dark with sweat.
“It’s me, girl,” Darby cooed to the filly. “Don’t look at him. Just me.”
She hated standing here, waiting for the boar to make the first move, but there was no other choice.
As soon as she saw where he was going, she’d distract him by throwing rocks and pray she could cling to Hoku’s lead rope long enough to get her through the gate. After that, if the filly ran, she’d have to let go.
They both looked around at the pig’s pained squeal. With a gigantic effort, he’d thrust his second shoulder under the fence.
Darby heard his back hooves paddling in the mud, but her eyes focused on her filly’s sweating back.
She leaned away from the fence and threaded her fingers through Hoku’s golden mane.
“Girl?” she said, but the filly didn’t seem to hear.
Hoku’s eyes rolled white and blind with fear as she looked back over her shoulder.
The pig was inside the corral.
Chapter 11
Between one heartbeat and the next Darby realized the boar had struggled to his feet. He was headed straight for them.
“This way,” she told Hoku, then gently moved the lead rope.
The mustang spun away and hit the end of the rope with such force, Darby lost her balance. She only kept herself from falling by grabbing a handful of Hoku’s mane.
Disoriented by all the commotion, the black boar swayed, lifting his snout into the air. He trotted toward them and Hoku stared with stricken fascination.
The rocks. Darby tried throwing one past the boar to see what he would do.
Nothing. No, wait, his reaction was delayed, but he grunted and turned toward the spot where the rock had landed.
As plans went, Darby thought, hers wasn’t much. She’d try to lure him closer with the rocks, and then, when she couldn’t hold Hoku anymore—and that moment was coming soon—they’d dart for the gate. Once it was locked behind them with the boar inside, maybe she could lead Hoku to Tutu’s cottage, and then home to ‘Iolani Ranch, to get Jonah to come confront the pig.
Part of her plan worked. The pig lunged toward them and fell onto his bristly right shoulder. Darby had time to throw only one rock and see that the pig stared at the noise it made, before Hoku bolted.
Nearly running already, the filly veered around the pig, and all at once Darby knew she had to move faster. If she didn’t, Hoku would jump over the gate, and Darby would be slammed into it.
She heard the pig breathing loudly behind her, but Darby didn’t look back to see which direction it was headed.
It didn’t matter. She had to get the gate open. It was unlatched, it should only take a second, but Hoku reared in frustration.
Darby clung to the rope with both hands, afraid to let go. But she had to. They were too close to the fence. Hoku thought she could jump, but it would be more like climbing. She’d be hurt in the attempt.
Darby opened her hands. She let the rope drop, and jerked the gate open. She didn’t let her attention wander long enough to see where the pig was, just held the gate wide enough for Hoku to shoulder through.
She wanted to grab the rope close to Hoku’s halter, but the filly was moving so fast, Darby was lucky to catch the last few inches of the rope as it trailed behind her horse.
Momentum and Darby’s unplanned-for weight caused the filly to scrabble with all four hooves to keep from crashing into Darby’s shelter.
Tall ferns whipped Darby’s legs as Hoku spun to the right.
“Whoa,” Darby yelled, but her feet were barely touching the ground. She couldn’t get into a stance where she could brace and stop the filly.
“Whoa!” Darby yelled again, but Hoku only moved faster.
She had to let go or be dragged to death. Hoku jumped a rock, dodged a tree, and Darby somehow stayed with her.
Vines lashed Darby’s face. A cacophony of red birds exploded like a fountain before them. Hoku zigzagged around an old tree trunk and then slowed for a few steps.
“Okay,” Darby gasped. Forcing her eyes to see past wind-whipped tears, Darby realized they were at the edge of the kipuka. Sharp lava rock lay just ahead.
A blast of salt wind struck them and Hoku gave a shrill neigh. But she didn’t bolt. Hooves tapping, she crossed the lava carefully, dragging in
deep draughts of salt air as if it were water.
“We can do it, baby. Just be careful. Good girl.”
Darby wanted to stop, had to stop if she planned to breathe anytime soon, but this was not the place to insist.
Once they reached the rock-studded dirt on the other side, she’d make a grab for Hoku’s halter and focus all her strength and mana and anything else she could think of on the task of leading her into that grove of trees, just ahead.
She tried. Darby’s shoulders, elbows, and wrists ached from pulling, but the filly wouldn’t stop. Darby forgot all about being a horse charmer. She just tried to be heavy.
The trees were wider apart in this grove, but it was dark. And growing darker, even though it was the middle of the day. Where was Hoku taking her? She couldn’t let the filly get a second wind or she’d lose her in a place she didn’t even recognize.
Suddenly, they burst out of the trees into the sunlight. Green hills unrolled before them.
Darby groaned as Hoku released a piercing neigh. The sorrel filly had longed for open country like the sagebrush roamed by her sire and all the other wild horses that had come before her.
Eden, Darby thought, or something close to it. But surely this was where she’d lose her horse. Hoku would shake off the human weight at the end of her lead rope and glide into an endless gallop.
Darby didn’t realize she was dragging in painful breaths, one after the other, trying to catch up, until a second set of hooves pounded up behind them, and she gasped.
Tango! With joyous snorts, the two horses bumped shoulders. Darby gasped and gripped Hoku’s rope still tighter with the raw palms of her hands. They were at the edge of a steep sidehill and she didn’t want Hoku to plunge down it, leading Tango in a game of chase.
But the two horses stopped, striking out in a mock fight. Darby ducked away from Tango’s black hooves, and that was when it happened.
The horses veered apart, then came back together. Darby finally tripped, fell, lost her grip on the rope, and rolled.
When she came to a stop, she was able to raise her head enough to see Hoku and Tango leap a narrow gully. A spray of brown birds rose before them and they loped with sideways steps, trying to watch a wild turkey.
They were beautiful, and they were so gone.
Darby made herself stand up. Dizzy from her run with Hoku, she struggled for balance.
Where was she? The salt wind meant she was closer to the ocean, right? They could be near Crimson Vale—and the wild stallion Black Lava.
What if he’d wandered inland in search of mares again and took Hoku?
Far off, the two horses crested a shoulder of emerald-green grass. The last she saw of Hoku and Tango, the horses were running as a pair.
She might have watched a little longer, but just then her knees buckled from the hammering they’d taken. Darby lost her balance and slipped on the slick grass of the sidehill.
Trying to stop, she grabbed at vines, flowers, and dirt, everything that passed beneath her. Then she let go and let herself roll.
Once, her elbows and knees collided with a clutter of lichen-covered rocks at the edge of a cliff. The collision slowed her, but she didn’t stop.
She tumbled on, until she hit bottom with a splat.
Darby lay facedown in mud, thought quickly enough to turn her head and not breathe it in, then closed her eyes and assessed her body.
Her head hurt. When she opened her eyes, she felt so dizzy she feared she might throw up, so she closed them.
Why was her pulse pounding in her ears instead of her wrists? She didn’t know, but she was encouraged that flexing her fingers didn’t make her yelp in pain. Neither did stirring her legs or shrugging her shoulders.
So far, so good, but the fact remained that she was lying in mud. It oozed against her shins, knees, thighs, and it might be welling up the legs of her shorts.
Darby swallowed hard and tried opening her eyes again.
She lay at the bottom of a hill, looking up.
She wanted to stand, but orbs of blue, orange, and violet lights danced before her eyes, keeping her light-headed.
Darby raised her chin out of the mud and looked ahead. Even with her eyelashes barely raised, she could tell she was sighting up another hill.
Which one had she rolled down? Why hadn’t she just gone limp and given in to rolling instead of trying to stop herself at that cluster of—
Hoku! There, just past the green rocks she’d pushed away from, back up the hill, stood Hoku!
The filly blinked down at her, tail swishing with curiosity. When Hoku tossed her head, her sun-shot mane looked like a halo.
“You didn’t leave me.”
Chapter 12
Her lips felt stiff, so they were probably caked with mud, but it didn’t matter. People would pay plenty for a bath of healthy Hawaiian minerals, she thought, smiling weakly.
And it didn’t matter that her clothes were soaked and dirty. She had others.
What mattered was that Hoku hadn’t left her.
The wild filly had trusted Darby to get them out of the corral, away from the boar. And she hadn’t taken the chance to escape!
As happy as she was, Darby couldn’t push away another sickening surge of dizziness. She closed her eyes and gloried in the fact that she hadn’t schooled the instincts out of Hoku. Jonah would be proud, if she ever got up the nerve to tell him.
Darby didn’t know how long she lay there, hiding behind the darkness of her eyelids, listening while Hoku grazed.
When she was finally feeling better, Darby gathered her strength to open her eyes again. Before she did, something brushed her fingertips.
It felt warm, but it was as coarse as the bristles on her hairbrush. She heard a small gumping sound and something round as a puppy’s belly bumped her face, then moved away.
Darby opened her eyes to see the slick, black nose of a piglet. It studied her with tiny, eager eyes, and Darby felt a smile begin on her mud-smeared face.
Then she stopped. It was cute, all right, but a piglet like this one had caused Ben Kato’s death.
Crazy, rabid pigs might not travel in family groups, but she’d bet this little piggy had a mother, and maybe even a father, nearby.
Sun baked Darby’s back and Hoku’s teeth made a vigorous snatching sound.
Don’t panic. Darby scoffed at her cowardice. She had to be exaggerating the danger she was in. She simply wasn’t the kind of person who faced mortal peril twice in one day.
Trying to dredge up some of the hidden courage Jonah thought she possessed, Darby raised her head and looked around until her neck trembled. She made her eyes sweep so far to the right they burned. Then, she did the same thing in the other direction.
Tutu had said this was a good place to practice using other senses besides sight, so she let her head down and tried her best.
The piglet snuffled. Mud splattered her hand, so he must be rolling. Wallowing, Cade had called it. The grass smelled freshly mown, like a Saturday afternoon on the lawn in front of her Pacific Pinnacles apartment, but the smell of the piglet kept Darby from drifting off. She’d already wasted too much time waiting for its parents to show up.
Darby sat up slowly, saw no other pigs, then stood. No tide of dizziness took her back down, so she glanced up the hill at Hoku.
Between her and her horse stood a black pig the size of a Labrador retriever. Two wiggling piglets were there, too.
The sow snorted and the piglet next to Darby scooted away. As he joined the others, Darby noticed he was the smallest.
When the sow led her family trotting away, Darby couldn’t help but watch Hoku. Switching her tail lazily, Hoku gazed after the pigs, but she didn’t look scared, just interested.
What a totally different reaction than the filly had had to the pig in the corral, Darby thought.
She hadn’t imagined it, then. The boar in her camp was a sick animal. Healthy pigs like this bunch moved away from strangers.
As Darby took
her first step toward Hoku, the sow stopped and stared.
Does she have eyes in the back of her head? Darby wondered.
The sow had to be at least a quarter-mile away, but Darby heard her grunt a warning to her piglets.
They weren’t the least bit worried by Darby or her horse. In fact, the small one was leading a rollicking romp through the grass. At last, their mother trotted after them.
Darby had to get back before Jonah or someone else saw the empty corral and sent out a search party.
Although she had no idea how to return to camp, Hoku did.
So Darby followed along, watching all the while for a clear spring so she could bathe. She knew Hoku would share the stream she drank from in camp, but she wanted to keep it clean for her horse. Besides, the idea of bathing in the stream where the pig had been, and the specter of him lurking nearby to ambush her, wasn’t very appealing.
Holding Hoku’s lead rope while she washed off didn’t make for a very complete bath, but before they crossed the kipuka, Darby was pretty much free of mud. Heat waves radiating up from the lava rock provided warmth to counter the wet patches that were left all over her shirt and shoulders from her long hair.
“Would you let me give you a bath?” Darby asked Hoku, but the horse only flicked one ear her way. She was so determined to get back to the corral—and hay—Darby probably could have released the lead rope again and just tagged along. But she wasn’t about to try it.
Their camp appeared undamaged and the pig had gone. The only signs he’d ever been there was the ripped-up wallow under the fence and the open gate, blowing and creaking in the breeze.
Hoku wandered around her corral while Darby snagged Jonah’s wildlife book off the ground. It was untouched, as if she’d set it carefully on the little knoll, instead of dropping it when she was under attack.
Next, she used a cup from her supplies to bring damp dirt from the streambed. It wouldn’t help much if the pig was determined to get under the bottom rail again, but Darby packed mud into the low spot until it was level with the dirt around it.
“That should slow him down,” she told Hoku.