by Akart, Bobby
Levi returned to the chapel and looked around to see where he was needed.
Kristi immediately recruited him. “Hey, Levi, over here.”
He quickly joined them and saw that Kristi was holding the twitch. “I haven’t used that thing in years.”
Kristi looked at Chapman. “Sorry, out of the way. You’re gonna help restrain her while Levi uses the twitch.”
Chapman stood and raised his hands in the air. “Works for me.”
Levi took the device, which was basically a soft piece of cord attached to a couple of metal tubes that squeezed together. Levi didn’t hesitate to get started. He grasped the end of the horse’s nose, just below the nostrils at the upper lip, and spoke calmly to her. He placed the rope around and then twisted the two handles until the loop was firmly holding the upper lip.
When first applied, the twitch does cause a horse some discomfort comparable to a firm pinch. The benefit was that same pinch-like sensation distracted the horse from being treated for her wound, kinda like smashing your finger in a car door when you have a headache. It makes you forget all about that headache.
“I think we’re good,” announced Levi.
“Okay, while the endorphins kick in, I’m gonna work around the wound.” Kristi wiped the rain off her forehead and eyes. “This rain is helping and hurting my job a little.”
She took the surgical scissors and clipped the hair around the wound to prevent it from further contaminating the laceration. She poured a bottle of saline solution to reduce the bacteria that was most likely attacking the open flesh and to remove any already-infected tissue.
The horse’s eyes began to get heavy, lending the appearance they were rolling back in her head. Kristi thought she was ready to remove the roof panel.
“First, I’m going to have to make the wound wider.”
“Why?” asked Chapman.
“Any type of stab or puncture wound like this one behaves the same way. The size of the wound on the outside is almost identical to what is on the inside. This metal panel is acting like a cork, fitting almost perfectly to its opening. If we simply yank it out of here, any blood vessels that are cut from the initial impact will no longer have the panel pressing against them. They’re either gonna bleed internally or externally. It all depends, and we’ll know in a moment.”
“So you make the wound slightly bigger for ease of removal?” asked Carly.
“Yeah, something like that,” Kristi replied as she studied the horse’s eyes once more. “Carly, you’re gonna need a lot of gauze to sop up the blood. Again, the rain is gonna be a benefit to irrigate the wound so I can see, but I still need you to be ready to apply pressure when I call for it.”
She took a deep breath before making a small incision in the flesh on both sides of the protruding panel. As she worked, she also lamented the conditions. “This would never be done unless we were under circumstances like these. Impaled objects, especially jagged ones like this, should be left in place and removed by surgeons in an operating room, not someone on their knees in a driving rain.”
She carefully pulled the roof panel out of the horse’s side and was relieved to see the straight edge of the end of the panel had entered the horse’s flesh about two inches before it struck the rib cage. The mare’s vital organs had been spared the trauma.
“Okay, Carly. Let’s apply pressure to the open wound with your gauze. Even if the gauze becomes blood-soaked, don’t remove it. We’ll add another layer on top and keep pressing until it stops. Add as many layers as you need.”
While Carly followed her instructions, Kristi reached into her trauma kit and pulled out a packet of Celox. Celox had been used in battlefield first aid kits by the military for decades and was now widely used by veterinarians to stop life-threatening, emergency bleeding in animals. Celox was made of a substance derived from the shells of shrimp and other crustaceans. When mixed with blood, it formed a gel-like clot in about thirty seconds. It works in addition to the horse’s normal clotting process.
After several minutes in which the gauze on top no longer appeared to be soaking in blood, Kristi instructed Carly to remove the gauze. “Okay, let’s have a look, but be ready to apply fresh gauze. I wish I had alum, but this stuff works almost as well.” Alum was a commonly used coagulant.
Kristi slowly poured the Celox into the open wound and then had Carly apply the gauze again. While she did so, she retrieved her supply of injectable NSAIDs, non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. She mentally calculated the dose and injected her.
She treated the open gash like a laceration rather than a puncture wound. After washing it once again with saline, she methodically sutured the injury.
“I think she’s coming out of her stupor,” cautioned Levi.
Kristi picked up the pace and then quickly applied Neosporin, a common triple antibiotic ointment, together with a gel dressing to encourage moist wound healing.
“Okay, Levi, loosen the twitch gradually and let her come around. As soon as she does, let’s cross our fingers she’ll try to stand on her own. Otherwise, we’ll have to create some kind of tent over her and wait until she recovers.”
Kristi finished up the bandaging process and retrieved a large roll of adhesive tape to wrap around the horse’s body once she stood on her own.
Kristi rose to her feet and peeled off the blood-soaked gloves before tossing them to the floor. As she was removing her gloves, Tommy arrived by her side to provide her a report on the other horses that had received mostly superficial wounds.
He and Isabella had treated them and then lead them out of the chapel to the recovery room, as Levi called it. He also provided the lamed horses with acepromazine, or ACE, a mild sedative, until Kristi could provide her own diagnosis.
Meanwhile, her patient gingerly turned her body and stood, blinking her eyes repeatedly as she rose. Eventually, the horse was standing tall, seemingly content to allow the continuous rain to fall over her body, which also rinsed the blood off. Kristi and Tommy worked together to wrap the bandage around her body in order to secure her dressing.
Levi took the horse by the reins to lead her outside; then he suddenly stopped and looked around the chapel.
“What?” asked Kristi, somewhat annoyed at his hesitation. She had one more gruesome, heart-wrenching task to perform.
He turned to his sister with a puzzled look on his face. “Where’s Wonky Donkey?”
Chapter 31
Texas, Kentucky
“Donkey? Wonky Donkey!” The six of them shouted through the chapel as they searched under piles of debris for Squire’s beloved donkey. The sweet animal was more of a pet to the Boone family patriarch than he was a part of the farm’s workforce. The debate on whether to bring him had been short the day they decided to leave Riverfront Farms. Now everyone feared he was injured under the rubble or, worse yet, because of his small stature, taken away by the hurricane.
They frantically dug through the collapsed ceiling and fallen internal walls, actually finding themselves hoping to discover his body as opposed to the alternative. Chapman and Isabella fought through the strewn-about debris to search what used to be the front of the church. Stairs leading to a gallery together with a drywall ceiling above the entrance had collapsed, leaving only a narrow path from the chapel to the front door.
While they dug through the heap of sheetrock and two-by-fours, Kristi and Tommy searched the altar and the choir seating. A three-tiered elevated stage had been built behind the altar, providing the choir a place of prominence to sing during Sunday services. It had partially collapsed under the weight of a decorative laminated beam running from side to side across the chapel.
Levi and Carly made their way back to the hallway that led to the choir room where they’d hid. “Maybe he doubled back while we scrambled to save the horses?”
“I’ll try deeper into the building. Maybe he got stuck somewhere.”
Levi searched the rooms in a panicked rush. There were only so many places for
an animal to hide in this modest-sized church. Carly pushed her way into the bathrooms, thinking the donkey had been forced in there by the larger horses when they’d sought cover during the hurricane.
He wasn’t there.
Tommy and Kristi joined them in the search of the rooms and offices. Sunday school classrooms, the pastor’s office, and even the cafeteria were checked and rechecked. They were all empty.
Dejected and depressed, the six of them met back in the center of the chapel. Tears came to Kristi’s eyes. She’d missed her father since his death, and she couldn’t bear to lose his beloved friend.
“Okay, let’s think this through. Following the storm, the front doors were sealed shut. The windows and parts of the wall of the chapel had blown out, but there was no way he jumped through the openings.”
Chapman wrapped his arms around his sister. “I’m sorry. It’s just one of those things.” He tried to make a joke to relieve the tension for her, but it didn’t make a difference. “Maybe Dad needed a ride and Uber wasn’t available up there.”
She managed a smile and gently punched him on the back several times in response. Kristi opened her eyes and followed Isabella, who was intently focused on the area above the entrance. There were three or four rows of arena-style seats to allow for overflow on those special Sundays when the pastor packed the house, usually in conjunction with holidays.
“What else is up there?” Isabella asked as she placed her hands on her hips and looked up to the opening leading to the gallery seating.
Levi responded and gestured as he spoke. “There was a staircase off to the side nearest the parish house. I never went up there because it wouldn’t have been safe to consider it.”
“The staircase collapsed,” said Chapman as he slowly walked toward the front of the church.
“Is he underneath it?” asked Kristi as tears flooded her eyes again.
“No, we dug everything off it to get a look,” he replied.
Everyone was now intrigued and hopeful. Carly asked, “Were they carpeted?”
“Yes,” said Levi.
The realization hit them.
“Wonky Donkey!” shouted Kristi as she bolted past the group and toward the front door. She climbed over the rubble and stood on the highest point of the pile.
“Wait!” shouted Levi. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I can go,” said Carly. “I’m the smallest.”
Tommy, who was the tallest of the men, patted Levi on the back. They stood in the narthex of the church and looked toward the opening where the stairwell led.
“We can hoist her up,” said Tommy. Levi agreed.
Half a minute later, Carly was lifted onto their shoulders like a cheerleader at a football game. She easily climbed onto the second floor overlooking the chapel. Most of the roof was intact, but some of it had caved in, blocking her access to the back side of the elevated seating.
She carefully climbed over and crawled across the pile until she was safely on the other side. Her enthusiastic discovery caused everyone to laugh and then shed a few tears of joy.
“Holy crap! Um, sorry, Lord.” She began to laugh hysterically. “You silly donkey, what are we gonna do with you? I mean, literally?”
“Is he hurt?” asked Kristi.
“Nope, just standing here like it’s no big deal.”
Chapman was the first to think of a solution to the problem. “Hey, guys, back off the pile. Let’s see what kind of shape the stairwell is in.”
Chapman led the way with everyone’s assistance to remove the debris to the other side of the front door. The open wooden staircase was still in one piece, as it had been torn from the header dividing the narthex from the chapel.
“I’ve got a hammer and a box of sixteen-penny nails in my tool kit,” said Levi.
“How much does he weigh?” asked Chapman.
“Six or seven hundred pounds,” replied Levi. “First, we’d have to push the staircase back to where it was ripped out and hold it there while we bang in the nails.”
“It’s all we’ve got,” Tommy said with a shrug.
Kristi, who was much heavier than Isabella, knew Carly would need some help. She asked Isabella to go onto the second floor to assist in clearing debris and then the more arduous task of coaxing a stubborn donkey down the stairs.
She turned to the guys. “If we pile up the debris at the foot of the stairs, can you create a shallower decline? Horses, cows, and even donkeys can’t easily see the ground right at their feet. The design of their hips and knees makes it hard to shift their weight backwards to prevent them from tumbling down the steps.”
“We can use a couple of pews to build a platform,” Levi began as he offered up a solution. “Once he hits the landing, then he can turn sideways and step onto the floor.”
Carly overheard the conversation. “He’s gonna bow up, I guarantee it.”
“We’ve gotta try,” said Kristi. “Without strapping him to a backhoe’s bucket, it’s the only way.”
“Let’s do it!” shouted Levi.
While he retrieved the hammer and nails, Tommy and Chapman raised Isabella up to the second-floor landing to assist Carly. Meanwhile, the guys worked together to clear the area and set the pews in place. They found two long pieces of two-by-six lumber, which they used to push the top of the stairs until they were flush against the header beam. Then they hammered two support braces underneath until they held the weight of the stairs.
Kristi climbed on the shoulders of Tommy and Levi and pounded in a dozen nails to connect the stairs back to the header. Levi stepped onto the stairs and tested them for stability. He toenailed the support posts into the stringers and had Tommy nail off the bottom to the church pews. He even bounced on the treads a little bit to ensure the entire thing would hold.
Isabella started down the stairs, so Kristi asked why.
“Carly said she knows Wonky Donkey the best. She will convince him to cooperate.”
The group stood to the side so the animal wouldn’t be spooked. A frightened donkey can be extraordinarily obstinate purely out of self-preservation. The stubborn label was somewhat overused.
A minute later the sound of his hooves on the hollow floor above them could be heard. Pretty as you please, Carly led him down the steps, leading him by his harness and continuously talking in his ear as they descended side by side. At the bottom, as if he’d done it a thousand times, he turned down the pews and stepped off at the end onto firm ground.
The donkey stood there motionless as the group heaped praise upon him for his bravery and silliness for thinking going up into the loft was a good idea to begin with. But then again, he was completely unharmed, so maybe it was a bright idea.
Levi, Carly and Isabella escorted the not-so-stubborn donkey outside, and Chapman was the last to leave. He knew what was next and offered to take care of it.
Kristi became filled with emotion again as she declined his help. She was the head of this ER, so to speak, and as such, she’d be solely responsible for the life and death of their animals.
Chapman pulled his sidearm out of his holster. He gripped it with the muzzle pointed down and the grip facing his body. She reluctantly took it and chambered a round. His .45-caliber bullets were more than powerful enough to perform the only practical means of euthanasia when more conventional methods were unavailable.
He left and pulled the door closed behind him. Tommy had gathered up two of the pastor’s stoles from behind the altar, which was miraculously undamaged. Later, the elderly clergyman said as long as there was an altar, there would be sermons on Sunday.
The horses were sedated and only somewhat coherent. Tommy lovingly wrapped the stoles around their heads to shield their eyes. Blindfolded, they remained calm as Kristi knelt down on the floor in front of them about five or six feet away.
She raised the gun with one hand, which immediately began to tremble. She took a deep breath and used her other hand to hold the weapon steady. She drew an imaginary line f
rom the right ear to the left eye and then another from the left ear to the right eye. This was the center point of the horse’s forehead and at the bony ridge of his skull. She aimed slightly off center and squeezed the trigger before she lost her courage.
The report of the powerful .45 handgun reverberated throughout the church and through the open roof. The rain pouring down on top of them did nothing to deaden the noise.
Tommy reached down to help her up. Tears mixed with raindrops flowed down her face.
“Do you want—?” he began to ask before she shook her head and responded, “No. I’m fine. Let’s get it over with.”
She marched across the chapel as if she was angry.
And she was. She was angry at magnetic poles. She was angry at geostorms. She was angry at hurricanes. And she was angry at God, who for purposes of her fury now existed, at least for the moment. She wanted to hold someone accountable for the death of her father, her beloved Knight, and all the other animals who’d perished since this began.
When she repeated the process of drawing aim, she pulled the trigger with a little more force, perhaps imagining a target other than the defenseless horse who’d never hurt a flea.
Chapter 32
Texas, Kentucky
Chapman turned and looked over his shoulder at Kristi, giving her a knowing smile of reassurance. Ending a life, whether human or animal, wasn’t easy for any of them. It was a part of their world now. Nonetheless, that didn’t make it any easier. He remained standing for several minutes until he heard both gunshots. He kicked mindlessly at the bits of glass and debris around his feet.
His mother was far away, keeping the children and Brooke occupied. She took them on horseback into the field beyond the church to retrieve the canvas cover from the wagon that had been sucked into the sky by the hurricane. It was covering what was left of the wooden wagon.
Levi and Carly hitched two of the horses to the operable wagon and pulled it around to the front of the church, where their supplies were covered by camouflage tarps. They loaded up the lightest, most essential supplies, then covered the heaviest items, namely weapons, ammunition, and canned goods, to be loaded into the Mustang.
