A Falling Ember

In The Sky

"He landed straight.............barbed wire...."
"He'll never make it...........it's the glue factory.........."
"Good money at the auction.....out of debt..." Voices resonate inside my head. Each one is harsh and loud. My limbs are fuzzy from the loss of blood but I can still feel. What I feel is pain. I was too close to home to end my journey.
I make an enormous effort to open my eyes, and I finally crack them open. The sun is almost in the middle of the sky. It's late morning. I am lying on a tarp on the flatbed of a truck. Again. I strain my neck to see out the back and realize that I am headed away from the barbed fence and the mountains. I'm headed for the dark building I saw on the hilltop. Humans must have found me! I need to get out of the truck now. I struggle to a more upright lying position. My flanks and belly still are cut badly I think, but they are wrapped with a tight cloth that I think is called gauze.
The truck rumbles over the hills, leaving tire prints in the deep snow behind me.
A few moments later, we reach the building. It's dark and foreboding and smells like smoke. The truck stops. If those no good humans hadn't tied me down, I would have been jumping out of the truck by now. I don't feel as weak as I look.
The door to the truck opens and two men step out. They are dressed in greasy looking brown clothing and they have dirty faces. One has a beard and the other a mustache.
"Oy! Jose! He's awake!" Beard shouts to the other, rushing over to me.
"Let's get him in the shop so we can call the auctioneer! We'll make good dough off this one," Mustache calls back. I snort nervously. These people aren't good like old Sam. They smell bad, not just in the literal way. They smell mean. Beard tries to grab a rope that is hanging around my neck, but I lean away from him and head butt him on his forehead. He yelps and steps back.
"You got nerve, nag! You're too weak to even get down by yourself!" He snarls. I snort in disgust. These stupid men will not hold back my spirit. I will not accept to be taken again. I yank my legs out of their rope holds. I stand up and toss my mane. Then I leap right over Beard's shocked face, landing behind him.
As I begin to sprint back up the hill to where I was lying, I hear the men shouting and a truck engine starting up behind me. The barbed wire fence appears into view. I ready myself and head straight for it. I jump it with ease. Why couldn't I have done that before? It's like the world had been against me earlier, but was on my side now. I gallop straight for the mountains with head held high and tail flowing behind me. I hear a crash and a screech behind me and I whip my head around. Those crazy men just won't give up! They have plowed right over the fence in their truck. And they are on my tail. I pour on the speed.
I gallop right towards a break in the mountains. It's like a rocky path, with steep walls on either side. I enter it and once again look back at the truck. It's rattling toward me and the men inside are red with fury. I glide around corners and jump over rocks. My followers are relentless. I am getting tired. They are not.
The path opens up into a plateau some distance away from me. I barrel straight toward it. Then my hooves skid to a stop, along with my heart. It's a dead end. I see the other side about 25 feet across. There is a river snaking along 70 feet below. There is no other way to go.

This is my last chance.

My only chance.

For freedom, for my family, for my life. I have to take it. Out of the corner of my eyes I see the black truck rumble to a stop. The men get out with lassos and guns. Why do they want me so much? Just so that they can get their "money" for me? I am not something to be sold. I am free.

With that, I step backward, still facing the canyon. Then I step backward again. And again.
"Good horsie! He's given up!" one of the men barks. I neigh at them.
"What if he jumps?" Mustache asks warily.
"He won't. He'll die," Beard answers.
I stand still and breathe heavily. I hang my head. The men laugh. They probably think that I have stopped trying to get away from them.
Then I raise my head. I feel a steely determination in my chest. I am dead set to do anything to win back my freedom. This is one of those things. I push aside my fears.
I rear up and strike my forelegs into the pale winter sky, letting out a neigh of pure perseverance. Then I surge forward. My legs blur as I race toward the plateau gorge. Time seems to stop.
I reach the crumbling edge.
I use my last burst of energy to push myself off of the canyon wall. And I leap.
No, I don't leap. I fly.
I fly through the sky, the love for my herd the only thing that is fueling me. I don't look back.
After a few moments, my hooves reach the other side of the impossible jump. I don't realize how much the jump has drained me until I collapse on the ground. My sides heave.
But I made it. I made it! I am free. I pick up my head and look at the men far away. They are already climbing into their truck, shaking their heads.