THE RECKONING

TUESDAY

Laura’s hand rested on the horse’s neck. The muscle beneath pulsated with blood and power. The autumn air was crisp against her skin. She loved it. The animal surged forward up the slight incline, like an engine. They’d ridden together fifteen times within a couple of months. It wasn’t her horse, but they had a genuine bond.

She leaned forward, running her hand over the horse’s neck, feeling her fingers enter the mane and gently tugging. Laura put her cheek against the warm animal flesh, enraptured by the connection. She felt the beast respond. The horse’s eye, light and glossy, was alive.

Laura said, “Good girl. You’re a good girl.”

They came over the rise. A rail fence line was on the right. The wood beyond broke into residential houses and agricultural buildings. She’d seen no one actually outside. Beyond the fence, near a large farm building, figures appeared.

The horse veered right. Laura tightened her legs, guiding the animal to center. She saw the people, and what was happening. A shockwave traveled her body, from pelvis to head. It was a young woman, with long black hair askew. A powerfully built man stood behind, his hand deep in her hair. The man was dragging her away from the fence, pulling her by the hair. The woman had her hands up, desperately grabbing onto his wrist, trying to mitigate the damage.

The woman shrieked.

Laura sat deeper into the saddle. She pressed her weight down and closed her fingers on the reins, applying a steady backward pressure. She leaned down again, squeezed her thighs and relaxed her lower legs.

“Whoa. Easy.”

She pulled gently on the right rein.

It wasn’t just the woman being dragged by this guy. The others by the building just stood and watched. The woman screamed again and flailed. She was facing Laura and they made eye contact.

Laura brought the horse up to the fence.

She said, “Let her go.”

The man pulled the woman tight toward him. He looked at Laura with great indifference, then back at the young woman he abused. He was holding her against his chest and doing some kind of whispered shout into her ear. The girl was helpless in his grip. She had Hispanic features and was very pregnant.

“What the fuck?” Laura raised her voice. “Let her go. Now!”

The man pushed the pregnant woman down, releasing her. She fell to her knees, the long straight black hair cascading over a flushed face.

The man said, “Get back inside.”

Laura dismounted, releasing the reins.

The man had a massive build. He was also Hispanic upon closer inspection. He glanced at Laura.

“This is private property.” He spoke with a clear American accent.

Laura said, “What the hell is going on here?”

The big man was at the fence. “Move along, lady. This isn’t your business.”

Two more men stood near the building. They were both corralling the onlooking women inside. The weird thing too, those women had their eyes cast downwards. Laura watched, mesmerized, as the women turned uniformly, heads bowed and submitting to single word commands. They entered the building. Each of these women, like the first, was Hispanic.

The man had his forearms resting on the wooden fence rail, leaning his weight on it with a cocked hip, like a cowboy. He gave Laura the most indifferent and surly look she’d ever seen on a man. The face was a blank slab of masculinity, wispy beard and mustache. Like he was sizing her up as some kind of bestial property. It filled her with a rush of anger.

For a moment, Laura stalled. She felt suddenly alone and clueless. What she’d just seen demanded attention. But then again, what do you do? The women were all inside now. She found herself alone with the man. What the fuck was going on in that place? Two things happened simultaneously at that point. The man realized Laura was armed, and Laura decided to change the situation.

His eyes drifted to the pistol holstered at her hip. The event Laura had witnessed raised questions. That solidified her resolve.

She pulled the pistol from its holster and aimed it at the ground between them.

Laura said, “I’m coming over the fence. Move back.”

The man recoiled, raising his hands.

He said, “Don’t come over the fence, lady. I just had an argument with my girl, is all.”

Laura switched the pistol to her left hand, placing her right hand atop the fence. She stepped up, then swung her leg over the middle rail.

“Move the fuck back, asshole. I’m going to talk to her.”

The man took a small step back. When she came over the fence, he scooted closer and Laura found herself only about eight feet away from him. With the fence behind her, she couldn’t create more distance, instantly feeling in danger. She got both hands on her gun and aimed it at him below the waist. She was a skilled shot, sure she could hit his thigh if needed—but she’d never drawn on a person before.

“If you don’t move back, I’m going to have to shoot you.”

Laura’s brother had convinced her that if you’re going to carry, do so with a round chambered. She practiced and maintained good trigger discipline. Right then, she was simply glad that she’d followed his advice.

The man said, “This is private property. You’re trespassing, lady.” His face exuded aggression. “You’re in danger.”

Then Laura spotted them—the two other men from before, circling from opposite sides. She backed into the fence.

One man called out to her. “Whoa there. Stay where you are.”

The man in front of her said, “Where do you think you’re going, lady?”

The horse whinnied behind her.

He used that as a distraction and took a fast step toward her, hand up and grabbing at her weapon. Laura wasn’t taken by the move. She anticipated just in time, sidestepping his lunge and kicking the man’s knee with a riding boot. The guy stumbled, giving her enough time to duck back through the fence.

But it wasn’t quite enough time to reach the other side. His hand closed around her right wrist, tugging hard at her and almost wrenching the arm out of its socket. The violent movement made Laura’s head bang against the top fence rail. She felt a sudden weakness, knowing in that moment that the guy would disarm her within the next few seconds.

The other two were closer now. She saw them as a blurry image. Men moved steadily towards her. Their facial expressions appeared to Laura as a sort of spinning composite.

Her vision cleared. She shook off the blow to the head.

The man was on her again, grabbing at her. Laura brought the gun around and pushed it into his chest. She fired point blank. He fell back, releasing the grip, and Laura pulled herself out of the fence. The others stopped in their tracks. She saw them hesitating, looking at their friend and thinking about what to do. The friend wasn’t doing well. In fact, he wasn’t doing much of anything at all. The man lay motionless in the grass.

Laura turned for the horse. She pushed the gun into the open saddle bag and swung up into the saddle. Taking the reins, she squeezed her calves and clicked her tongue. In ten seconds, she was galloping over the hill. Riding hard toward the woods and a way out.

* * *

Back at the stables, Laura dismounted, feeling woozy. Her hands were shaking. It occurred to her she might faint, so she sunk into a shallow squat and started breathing carefully. This helped to get her head straight. It hadn’t been an especially muddy or dusty ride, but she felt dirty and sweaty herself.

She hosed the animal down and got out the soapy water and pail. She scrubbed the horse enthusiastically, taking extra care to get into the hidden folds of animal flesh. She went at it with the hoof pick, prying out dirt that had hardened with time.

Later, she rested on a stool, leaning against the barn. The shakes were gone. The sun sank low. The glare was sharp. The man’s face ghosted in her sight. She saw him over the fence, dragging that pregnant woman across the dirt. The way she struggled and the guy’s expression…Simply mean determination and something worse, like he was dealing with an animal, not a fellow person.

Then Laura got a hit of his smell, like an olfactory hallucination. The man was up close and aggressive. Then, the feeling of putting the gun into him and pulling the trigger for real. So, what was going to happen next?

Laura brought out her phone and started composing an email to her brother.