Alright guys! Sorry it's been so long since I have written, but lots of things have happened. My grandma died of cancer last month, so for the longest time I wasn't in the mood to write. And then my senior project presentation has been looming over my head, but my partner and I presented it today, I never have to think about it again! )
This really has no relevance, but I thought you guys would be interested in knowing this. Last month a new person came to board her horses at the barn where I work, and coincidently, she has a chestnut thoroughbred named Phoenix. He has one white sock, and a blaze, just like the Phoenix I made up. How freaky is that? And best of all, I might be leasing him, go me! ) So without any further distractions, this is the chapter for why the story was named. Enjoy.
Chapter 11
An eerie fog settled upon the valley that night. It rubbed it's back upon the glistening white railing of the track, and crept silently into the aisle ways and stalls of the sleeping stables. Somewhere, a wolf howled a mournful cry, and in the distance another answered with a bone-chilling yip. Although the feeling of the eve made her sleep uneasy, the golden filly did not wake to these sounds.
Sometime early in the morning, the echo of approaching footsteps fell upon her ears. At first Flight Angel ignored the sound, but the scraping of the heels became so close, she sleepily opened an eye to peer at the stranger. Much to her surprise the silhouette of a man had stopped right at her door, and with a grunt of apprehension, she rose quickly to her feet.
"A little spooky tonight, eh mare?" the mans voice questioned. Flight Angel swiveled an ear, but did not move from the shadows of her stall. He chuckled a bit before plucking a deep-barreled cigar from his pocket, and lighting it with a strike of light in the darkness. He looked ready to speak once more, but a nicker from the adjacent stall startled him, and quickly his attention shifted. "You think I have come with treats for you Gypsy?" His gruff voice tensed, then relaxed. "You did run a fabulous race today I must say, you were in the lead for nearly the entire race." He paused for a moment. "But then you lost!" And with a clenched fist he struck the bay filly with immense force upon her muzzle.
Gypsy Caravan reeled, her eyes white and fearful. She fell to her knees with shock, and then broke down in heaving sobs. This was the man that owned her, her master. Couldn't he see that she had tried her best? That no one could beat Flight Angel? She rose shakily to her feet, and gasping with defeat, tried to shrink herself in the corner.
The man laughed heartily, and turned his attention back to Flight Angel, who was snorting with alarm. "It isn't her fault she is a failure you know. I know she tried her best today." With a malicious grin he took another puff from his cigar. Gypsy's ears perked at the compliment, and she struggled hard to suppress her sobs enough to hear. "You see Flight Angel, you are the problem. My horse was unbeatable for a while, until Mr. Thomas got the bright idea to have you chase my filly around the country. And now, not only are you a threat as an opponent as the Kentucky Derby looms, but you are a threat to my income, and my reputation. Usually I am a pretty reasonable guy, but I have no choice this time considering the circumstances. I must get rid of you." And with a flick of his wrist, the cigar dropped into the straw at Flight Angel's hooves.
"Fire is an awful way to die you know, so slow and painful," the hay around the butt began to smoke and crackle. "A shame really, you could of made a wonderful can of dog meat." With a merciless grin he spun on his heel, only to double back to the stall of the bay filly. Quickly he unlatched her stall door, but kept it closed. "I can't take my chances with you," he whispered hastily. "Hopefully you're smart enough to get out while you still can."
Flight Angel's eyes widened with fear as she watched the small puff of fire jump from wisp to wisp. It drew closer to her hooves and legs with ever growing heat, sending spasms of terror throughout her entire body. Soon the walls would catch, and the bare spot of stall she was standing in would become a coffin. She would be burned alive.
Throughout her panicked reasoning, Gypsy had already set to work on the locked door. Her lips and teeth tore at the hinge with ever-increasing urgency as the fire built from a small flickering flame to a raging blaze. Blood poured from the corners of her mouth as she burst into hopeless tears.
"I can't get it, I can't!" she sobbed. "You have to do something Angel, you have to get out!"
By now the other horses had began to wake and sense the danger. Their nervous whinnies added to her distress, and she struggled harder to think clearly. There wasn't much time. And then, she had it.
"I'm kicking the door!" she screamed over the roaring of the blaze. "Get out of the way Gypsy! Help the others!" In an instant Gypsy was off, and Angel was rearing up and striking the door with as much force as she could muster. Her stomach burned at being exposed, and the smoke began to tear at her lungs and eyes.
She coughed as she landed, and spun around to viscously kick again. As her back legs struck once more the wood splintered and the urgency in her movements surged with hope. The fire had nearly reached the ceiling, and had most likely made it's way into the adjacent stalls. The building was beginning to groan as it's structure weakened, sending her into a panicked frenzy.
Just as the doorframe began to collapse, the door split at the hinges and fell into the aisle way filled with embers. Without even thinking she dove into the dark fog, screaming as a flaming board landed upon her rump. She gasped for her first breath of fresh air as Gypsy came running over to her side.
"Angel you have to get out of here, he is coming! He knows you escaped!" Gypsy gasped. Angel looked at her with an exhausted air.
"What are you talking about? Who is coming?"
Both of them snapped to attention as a loud explosion fell upon their right side. Almost instantaneously Flight Angel twisted with a ripping pain through her withers. Immediately the blood began to pour from her wound, staining her golden coat with crimson. Quickly she galloped away from the intruder, and Gypsy stepped after her, but then stopped to face her owner. He rested the revolver at his side and smiled.
"She couldn't last more than three days in the wilderness," he chuckled. "And it will be too late by then." Gypsy stood and watched her friend scramble across the rippling buffalo grass. The fire burned behind her, and the screams of those dying in agony echoed against the mountains, but she did not hear them. All she could do was watch the form of her companion slip into the foggy night.
A/N: I decided I don't like this chapter. I mean obviously I wanted this to happen and I had it planned, I just don't like how I wrote it. What's your input? It would help me a lot!