Survival Stories
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The horses' iron shoes scraped, metal against solid stone. Slowly they struggled upward, legs bent, lungs wheezing. Society Girl's halter rope tightened in my hand. I looked back. The old mare was really having problems.
Groaning, she put her head down and lurched over one of the big rocks, her shoes slipping.
Then, as though in slow motion, she crumpled to the ground.
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Corrí sin mirar para atrás hasta la tienda, resbalando con los zapatos llenos de grasa, derribando latas de comida, golpeándome contra los estantes. Me lancé hacia el teléfono. Levanté el auricular. Podía sentir a Devin detrás de mí
Empecé a marcar nueve, uno...
Colgó el teléfono de un manotazo.
—Tenía la esperanza de no tener que llegar a este punto.
