Everyone nodded. Everyone, that is, except Mikaela.
7. Hendra Virus
‘She’s gone to help bury the dead horses,’ I told Alice once Mrs Bacton had left. ‘She feels sorry for Mr Shearer, you know, being so sick and in a wheelchair and everything, so she’s gone to help him.’
Alice and I had decided to wash and polish tack while some of the others swept and cleaned the feed shed. I wasn’t sure where Mikaela was, but by then, I didn’t care.
Alice passed me a cleaning cloth and a dirty bridle. ‘No, that doesn’t sound right,’ she said. ‘Burying horses? Do you think you might have got it wrong?’
‘No, I haven’t. I’m sure I haven’t,’ I insisted. ‘Mr Shearer has Hendra virus, and so do his horses. You saw him. He’s half dead. Mrs Bacton didn’t want to scare us, so that’s why she didn’t tell us the truth. She’s probably helping him dig massive horse graves right now.’
The shed groaned in the wind like a big old dinosaur.
Alice’s mouth fell open. ‘Massive graves? Oh no! Really?’
I started to explain that he’d have to put the dead horses somewhere, but Alice’s eyes were wide enough already, so I turned back to the dirty bridle and concentrated on wiping soapy bubbles off the buckles.
But I was right about Mr Shearer and his horses, wasn’t I? How long before our horses caught the deadly virus? And when they did, what would happen then?
Would Mr Shearer shoot them too?
‘I’m just going to see Spud,’ I said, hanging up the cleaned bridle. ‘Back soon. ’K?’
‘Wait for me,’ said Alice, jumping to her feet. ‘Pairs, remember? I want to see Joey too.’
I grabbed some licorice and two halters while Alice opened the door. The wind shoved her sideways, whipping her hair across her face.
‘Hang on!’ I yelled.
Out in the paddock, dry hay and leaves twisted into dusty spirals.
‘Spud! Joey! Where are you?’ I called into the wind.
Alice kept close behind me.
‘Spud!’ I shouted. ‘Here, boy!’
Before long, a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon. The horses galloped up, their hooves thundering across the grass.
‘Ahhh!’ screamed Alice, gripping at my arm. ‘This is totally a bad idea!’
Razz came first, leaping and kicking out his hind legs. Then came Joey, squealing and pinning his ears back at Razz.
Alice’s grip was cutting off my circulation. ‘What’s wrong with them?’ she cried. ‘They’re crazy!’
‘Can you see Spud?’ I yelled. ‘Where’s Spud?’
We found Spud near an old bath water trough in the bottom corner of the paddock. He was running up and down beside it, his head high, his nostrils flared. A tight ball rose in my chest. What was he doing?
We raced towards him and were only a few metres away when he lifted his head and then his front legs too. Alice and I stopped dead, watching his hooves pedal wildly in the air.
‘What’s the matter?’ croaked Alice.
My head swirled with possibilities. Was he rearing because of the wind? Or maybe it was colic? Or … what if rearing were the first sign of Hendra? One minute a horse could be fine, but the next it could be rearing and pedalling, with foam pouring from its mouth.
‘Shall we go call Mrs Bacton?’ asked Alice as Spud reared up again.
I wasn’t sure if telling Mrs Bacton was such a good idea.
Shoot them. Kill them.
‘No, let’s get him into the stables. See if he calms down. Maybe he’s just got a fever.’
Did Hendra virus start with a fever?
I got the halter ready with one hand as I fumbled in my pocket for licorice with the other. My heart thumped. How did you catch a rearing horse?
‘Alice, I’m going to need your help. You go over there, behind him, while I show him the licorice, okay? Then, when he sees it, you sort of come in behind him and make him walk to me.’
Alice shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered.
‘You have to!’
She grimaced and crept to the right. I took a step towards Spud.
Alice screamed.
Spud leapt in the air. I dropped the licorice.
‘What happened?’ I demanded.
Alice held one hand over her mouth and pointed at the old bath with the other.
I imagined a pea-sized spider perched on the rim.
‘I can’t see anything,’ I snapped.
Alice pointed again, her mouth still covered.
I sighed and picked up the licorice. ‘Alice!’ I scolded, walking over to the bath and peering into it, an angry frown on my face. But my frown soon disappeared. A dark shape floated just below the surface. A clump of orange and black fur hovered near the edge.
I stared. A guinea pig? A cat?
Once I was sure it wasn’t moving, I picked up a sturdy stick and poked it. The shape spun onto its back, revealing dark rubbery wings curled around its small body.
A bat!
‘Is it … is it dead?’ Alice whispered.
I used the stick to push the bat against the side of the trough, working it slowly upwards until it was near the lip of the bath.
Alice took a step back. ‘Oh no! Stop! Don’t touch it. It’s disgusting,’ she yelped.
‘I’m not touching it. I’m just getting it out of the water.’ I used the stick to flick the bat up and over the edge of the bath. It landed with a soggy splat on the ground. ‘Yep, it’s dead,’ I declared.
‘Now we have to tell Mrs Bacton,’ said Alice.
‘No!’ I almost shouted. ‘We can’t! What if the bat’s given Spud Hendra virus? Mr Shearer will come and shoot him for sure now. You have to help me!’
Alice stared like I’d just asked her to jump off a cliff. Only when I added ‘Hurry!’ did she move in to help.
I stepped towards Spud, a fresh piece of licorice ready in my hand. Spud pawed the ground. He looked at me and then at Alice. He wouldn’t move.
‘Come on, Spud!’ I urged.
Spud snorted and shook his mane. He flattened his ears. The whites of his eyes shone.
Alice looked set to run.
‘Here, you go back and make up a stall in the stables. I’ll be right there.’
Alice glanced up the paddock. I saw her bite her lip.
‘Go on, I’m coming.’
Alice raced off. I held the licorice in front of Spud’s face. He reached out his neck without moving his feet, and pursed his top lip like a giraffe to get it. But I wouldn’t let him have any.
‘Come here if you want it, you big sack of potatoes.’
I waved the licorice just out of his reach. Spud stretched a little further. He took a half step towards me.
‘Good boy! Not too hard, was it? Try again.’
I only had one piece, but it was enough to get Spud walking.
‘Good boy, that’s the way. You’re okay, I’m here now.’
Spud and I walked back up the paddock, my mind racing. A dead bat in the water? Spud rearing and pedalling? The other horses spooked?
Spud had Hendra for sure.
By the time Spud and I reached the stables, Alice had prepared a net bursting with green lucerne hay and a feed bin full of pellets. She’d filled a bucket with water, and once Spud started eating, we decided we should sponge him down. That’s what they did in my magazines whenever a horse got sick.
‘So if it is Hendra virus,’ said Alice as we wiped the sweat from Spud’s face, ‘will he die?’
‘Yeah, probably.’ I lowered my voice. ‘But don’t say that in front of him.’ I stroked my sponge softly down Spud’s neck and he leant in closer as I ran it down his shoulder.
Outside, the hot wind whipped and howled. Inside became a furnace.
What we
re the symptoms of Hendra virus in humans? Why hadn’t I asked Mrs Bacton this morning instead of blurting questions about Mr Shearer? Did it start with a rash? Or was it a fever and a runny nose? I pressed my hand to my forehead. It was hot, but it was hard to tell if that was because of the temperature inside the shed or if I had the beginnings of a virus. I tried to check the back of my tongue in the reflection of the metal feed bucket, but the bucket was covered in globs of old food and cobwebs, so I couldn’t see a thing.
Spud devoured two whole servings of fresh lucerne hay and slurped at his water, dribbling it from the side of his mouth while Alice and I sponged and sponged. After the third lot of sponging, Spud was looking downright soggy, so we decided to give him a break. Alice busied herself by emptying the buckets and squeezing out washcloths, while I rearranged the riding helmets from small to large and straightened a few bridles, making sure they hung from the headpiece, not from the reins as some careless people had done. I pushed the lids onto the feed bins more tightly and swept up the loose grains the other girls had missed.
Meanwhile, the wind lashed the shed. Suddenly a fierce gust threw open the door and slammed it shut. I latched it securely, trying not to think about Spud and Hendra. Hopefully, it was something else, and Spud would be perfectly all right.
‘Anyway, he couldn’t be all that sick,’ said Alice as she topped up his hay for the third time. ‘If he was, he wouldn’t be eating. Mum says I’m faking if I eat too much when I’m supposed to be sick. And it’s not like he’s going ballistic.’
I had to agree; Spud wasn’t acting sick. Instead, he was gorging on hay like he’d never seen it before.
‘Should we put him back in the paddock?’ suggested Alice after a while. ‘Maybe it was a false alarm?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, glancing at Spud. He did look okay. Maybe I’d been imagining things? Maybe racehorses liked to rear and pedal? Then I remembered the bat. ‘No we can’t send him out there!’ I said. ‘Not with that dead bat on the ground.’
‘True,’ said Alice. She was silent for a moment. ‘But remember Mrs Bacton left you in charge. What if something’s happened to the others?’
I’d forgotten about being in charge. Who knew what disasters had happened while I’d been busy with Spud! I found a couple more licorice pieces for him and stroked his neck one last time. ‘Don’t die, okay?’
8. Panic
The common room smelt of freshly cooked popcorn, and the others were gathered around the television, watching Flicka. Mikaela sat sideways across a lounge chair, a bowl of popcorn on her lap, her eyes glued to her phone. The fly-spray girls smiled at me blankly when I asked if everyone was feeling all right.
‘Yeah, why?’ asked the pink twin nearest me.
‘No reason.’
‘Here, check this out.’ Alice motioned me over to the noticeboard. The daily planner said we were having spaghetti bolognaise for dinner. I chewed my cheek. If Spud really did have Hendra, he could be dead before dinner.
Next to the planner was the list of first-aid points Mrs Bacton had mentioned the first morning. There were tips on what to do in case of snakebite, precautions to take if someone fell and had concussion, and advice to follow if someone drowned in a dam.
‘That bit.’ Alice pointed to a separate piece of paper tacked on at the bottom like an afterthought, a last-minute ailment that Mrs Bacton had remembered in the dead of night. ‘Read that bit.’
I moved in to take a look. It was titled ‘Understanding Bats’.
‘Don’t touch bats,’ it said. ‘Bats are not your friends.’
My eyes darted down the list.
‘If Hendra virus is suspected, take the following safety precautions:
•AVOID CONTACT WITH HORSE NASAL SECRETIONS OR SALIVA.
•PRACTISE GOOD HYGIENE AT ALL TIMES. WASH/SHOWER THOROUGHLY IF CONTACT SUSPECTED.
•ONLY EXPERIENCED VETINERARY STAFF TO HANDLE INFECTED ANIMALS.
•WEAR FULL PROTECTIVE CLOTHING.
My eyeballs bulged. Alice and I had not practised good hygiene. We had not avoided nasal secretions or worn protective clothing. We’d touched Spud all over. I had kissed Spud’s muzzle several times, even when he had snorted licorice goo all over me. If Spud really did have Hendra, Alice and I would definitely be loaded with Hendra-virus-carrying cells.
I stared at Alice. Her eyes were wide. My chest squeezed. This could become a spiralling emergency. Mrs Bacton had left me in charge, and it was my job to warn the others. Keep them calm. Anyone who’d touched Spud would need to have a long hot shower to wash off any infectious cells. Someone would have to tell Mrs Bacton. If she wasn’t back yet, we’d have to go to the house and call her mobile and 000 on her phone.
I ticked the points off in my head.
Warn the others.
Shower.
Mrs Bacton.
Triple zero.
I explained my plan to Alice before turning to face the group. ‘Everyone, listen up!’ I announced, placing myself in front of the TV. ‘There’s no need for anyone to panic. I’ve got it under control.’
The girls looked at me and then at each other. Noses scrunched, eyebrows folded. The biggest fly-spray girl sighed and reached for the remote. ‘What’s under control?’ she snapped, angling her arm around me and pointing the remote at the TV.
The volume skyrocketed, sending Flicka thundering across the screen.
I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. I’d scare them half to death if I told them we were all about to die.
‘Has anyone come into contact with Spud today?’ I continued in a slow clear voice.
No-one answered.
I soldiered on. ‘If you have, you need to have a long hot shower. So that’s me and Alice. Anyone else?’ I looked around the scowling faces.
Mikaela looked up from her phone. ‘Like, who’d want to touch that aardvark?’ she muttered before returning to her screen.
‘Okay, so no-one?’ I said, standing firm in front of the TV. ‘That’s good. And, the stables are out of bounds from now on. Strictly quarantined, okay?’
‘Why?’ demanded one of the pink twins.
I frowned. ‘If I tell you, I don’t want any hysteria, okay?’
No-one said anything.
I took a stabilising breath. ‘There could be a Hendra outbreak on this property.’
There. I’d said it!
I expected crying and maybe some gasping, but there was none of that. In fact, not much happened. There was one sigh and one ‘for goodness sake’.
One of the pink twins spoke first. ‘How come?’
‘Alice and I went to check on the horses before, and Spud was acting really weird.’ I glanced at Alice, and she nodded. ‘He was down at the water trough with this gross dead bat, and we think it’s given him Hendra. I mean, he doesn’t actually look too bad … but you never know, and now we’ve touched him and …’
‘Eww, how big was it?’ asked someone.
‘How big was what?’
‘The bat. Was it gross? Did it bite you? Where is it?’
‘Forget about the bat. Listen to what I’m saying! Spud might have Hendra virus!’
The pink twin shook her head. ‘Nope, it won’t be Hendra. It can’t be. The horses will be vaccinated. Mrs Bacton just wouldn’t risk it. Not with all those bats around.’
‘Yeah,’ said a fly-spray girl. ‘Isn’t it like a law anyway? Hendra’s deadly.’
I took a deep breath. Maybe they were right. Maybe Mrs Bacton had vaccinated her horses?
I didn’t notice Mikaela until she was standing right next to me. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I mean, I’ve heard those injections can get pretty expensive. You’ve seen this place. Mrs Bacton is broke as. I really don’t think she would have forked out for all the horses to be vaccinated. Maybe just the good ones?’
>
I hesitated. The riding school was pretty run-down. But if it was the law …
‘And also, what’s with that weirdo neighbour guy? The one you said was raving on about shooting? I thought I saw him heading towards the house just before, and I’m pretty sure he had a gun.’
My tongue contracted some new disease, swelling and growing too fat for my throat. I couldn’t speak. My face burnt hot, as if I’d rubbed it all over with Dad’s insanely fiery chillies.
Mr Shearer was here? With a gun?
‘Don’t be stupid!’ said someone. ‘Why would the neighbour guy be here? Didn’t Mrs Bacton go to help him?’
I turned away, my breath trapped in my chest. I knew why Mr Shearer was here. Shoot them. Kill them. He’d come to shoot Spud.
Behind me, everyone argued. The pink twins said Mikaela was making things up. Mikaela was adamant she’d seen Mr Shearer. The fly-spray girls said even if she had seen him, there was no way he was carrying a gun. People didn’t just go around shooting horses.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out their voices. I wished it was only a dream and I’d wake up any minute to find there were no bats, no Hendra, no maniac with a gun.
It took a moment to register a hand pulling at my arm.
‘It mightn’t be too late,’ Alice whispered. ‘If they can’t find Spud, they can’t kill him, right?’
‘What’d you mean?’
‘If he’s not in the stables or in the paddock, Mr Shearer will have nothing to shoot. Think about it.’
I nodded, my heart thrashing. ‘You’re right,’ I said.
9. Escape
I flew to the stables, my lungs nearly exploding. I grabbed Spud’s newly cleaned bridle from where I’d hung it less than an hour ago and burst into his stall. He jumped sideways, raising his head in alarm.
‘It’s okay, boy. It’s just me,’ I said, throwing the reins over his neck and holding the bit to his mouth.
There was no sign of Mr Shearer.
Spud tipped his head out of my reach. ‘Please, Spud! Please!’ I cried. ‘It’s an emergency!’
Spud & Charli Page 4
