Victory and the All-Stars Academy

by Stacy Gregg

  All these dreams she’d been having about Mystic’s accident had made Issie afraid that she was losing the grey gelding, that he really was gone for good. Well, if Mystic wasn’t with her any more then she was truly on her own this time. Somewhere out there was a man with a gun and Issie would have to face him alone.

  She was right about Victory’s night vision. The horse seemed to know exactly where he was going, his stride never faltering. Up ahead Issie could see a large shadow looming on the horizon and she realised that they had almost reached the blackberry bushes. She slowed Victory to a canter. There were a few sheep grazing here, dotted around the paddock. Issie guessed that the main mob of sheep must be clustered beyond the blackberry, over the ridge where the trees lined the divide between Havenfields and the Murphy property.

  In the darkness Issie could hear the ewes calling to their lambs and the plaintive bleats in return. Something wasn’t right. Sheep weren’t usually so noisy at night and this mob were restless, as if something had startled them. She pulled Victory up to a halt, and at that moment she saw what was scaring the sheep.

  Wombat was circling the flock in a stalking pose, slinking low to the ground and closing in, nipping closely at the ankles of a ewe and her lamb.

  “Wombat! No!” Issie rode Victory forward to cut the pup off, but Wombat was too quick for her. He darted around the horse and carried on, nipping at another straggler who had strayed from the group, driving the sheep back, then veering to the right and chasing another young ewe and her lamb so that they too rejoined the flock.

  Issie was horrified at first, but then, as she watched Wombat, she realised what was going on. The puppy wasn’t acting like a killer at all. He wasn’t trying to pick out a sheep to chase down and kill. And he wasn’t worrying the mob or trying to work it into a frenzy, just the opposite. He was rounding them up deftly and quickly, keeping them together. He wasn’t attacking these sheep at all. He was trying to herd them—just like a trained sheepdog.

  He thinks they’re his flock. He’s trying to protect them! Issie thought. And then came the second, more troubling thought. Protect them from what?

  The answer to her question came out of the undergrowth with teeth bared and jaws hanging open wide. Issie could now see at close range exactly what had spooked these sheep and she didn’t blame them for being afraid. The animal that was running towards her was truly terrifying.

  It was a dog, but unlike any that Issie had seen before. It had an enormous head that looked too big for its bony body, with its ribs and hip bones jutting out from hunger. Even though it was half-starved, the creature was still huge and imposing. It had russet-coloured fur, and it stared at Issie with dirty yellow eyes. It looked at her as if it wanted to kill, and the creature’s jaws promised to make good on that threat.

  The beast had been bounding towards the sheep, but it slowed down for a moment when it caught sight of the girl on the horse. Then, with a deep, guttural growl, the dog ran at Issie and Victory and, without hesitation, leapt through the air and attacked.

  Terrified and startled, Victory did what any horse faced with a predator would do. He bolted and Issie, who had been totally unprepared for the attack, felt herself lose her balance as the horse surged forward. She snatched at the reins, trying to hold Victory back and regain her seat, but it was too late. As Victory took off, she scrambled and lost her stirrups and reins, sliding and falling hard to the ground.

  There was a brutal crunch as she hit the dirt. She heard bone crack and instantly knew that she had broken her shoulder. There was a shooting pain that made her shut her eyes and her first thought was that she might black out. Then Issie opened her eyes again and almost wished that she had been unconscious. Standing nearby, fangs exposed in its battle-scarred face, the dog was poised to attack again. This time it was no more than a couple of metres away and Issie was on the ground, unable to defend herself.

  She tried to edge backwards without startling the dog into striking. Her heart was racing as she moved slowly out of range and began to use her arms to push herself back up on to her feet. The pain in her shoulder made her squeal out and she collapsed back to the ground again. She couldn’t stand up. The wild dog’s ears pricked forward. It had heard the cry and could sense that Issie was vulnerable. It was closing in now, weaving back and forth, but never taking its eyes off her, coming closer, closer.

  And then suddenly the dog’s massive head turned. Its attention had been caught by a volley of high-pitched yelps coming at it through the darkness.

  “Wombat!”

  The pup was defending her against the wild dog, even though he was half its size. Wombat stood between Issie and the beast, his hackles rising up as he growled and postured, and prepared to fight. For a brief moment, the two canines stood face to face and Wombat held his ground, then, with jaws open and fangs bared, the wild dog leapt.

  Wombat rose up to meet it and took the impact with a startled yelp, going down on his back. The wild dog was an experienced fighter and it went straight for the soft fur underneath the puppy’s throat and clamped its jaws tight. In one deft move it was in the position to kill, its jaws tightening as it began to choke the life out of the blue heeler. Wombat was yowling in pain, kicking with his hind legs, trying to escape, but it was no use. The wild dog was too strong.

  Issie was shouting at them to stop. She tried to get up again, but the searing pain in her shoulder crippled her. She fought through the pain and forced herself to put her weight on her good right arm and push herself up off the ground. Once she was standing, she reached down and grabbed a stick that was lying on the ground next to her. It wasn’t large, not much more than a skinny gum tree branch, but it was the only weapon she had as she lunged forward to rain a hail of blows on the wild dog’s back.

  It took a few hits before the wild dog realised what was going on and let go of the pup’s throat. It spun around to face the girl and this time Issie was close enough to see the bloodlust in its eyes as it prepared to spring at her once more. Beside her, Wombat lay on the ground whimpering and gasping for air, too exhausted to get back up and fight.

  Issie was trying to remember what she had been told about dealing with an aggressive dog. She knew she wasn’t supposed to run, but then she wasn’t exactly in a position to fight either. The skinny tree branch looked far too puny to deal with that set of slavering jaws. Gingerly, she took a step back and then another, and then, as the dog lunged at her, she turned as fast as she could and ran. She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a hammer. The pain in her shoulder was intense, but the adrenalin overrode it and kept her moving. Issie could hear the dog gaining on her when her foot suddenly caught on a tree root and she fell.

  This time the pain when Issie hit the ground was unbearable. It was twice as bad as before. Her head filled with agony and she instinctively curled up into a ball to protect herself as best she could as the wild dog flung itself at her. But it never made contact. At the moment it attacked, another much larger and more lethal shadow reared up in front of the girl, bringing his hooves crashing down with brutal and deadly timing, striking the wild dog in midair and dropping it violently to the ground.

  The dog let out an agonised yelp and fell almost on top of Issie. She screamed as the beast’s bloodied face came down with a thud right next to her own. Hysterical, she scrambled backwards in the dirt, trying desperately to get away from the killer that lay on the ground beside her. But there was no need to fear it any longer.

  The wild dog lay dead on the ground. Above it stood the horse that had struck it down. He looked proud and magnificent in the moonlight with his grey, dappled coat shining. The pony was still trembling, but the fury that had consumed him barely a moment ago, when he was rearing and striking the killer dog, had drained out of him. His coal-black eyes were soft and gentle once more as he peered at Issie from beneath his silvery forelock. Issie couldn’t believe it. Only now that it was over did she realise who had saved her.

  “Mystic!”
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br />   The grey pony gave a gentle nicker at the sound of his name.

  “Mystic…owww!” Issie had tried to push herself up off the ground to go to her horse and was crippled again by the pain in her arm. The last fall had been too much for her shoulder. She really couldn’t move this time. The grey pony sensed this and came to her instead. Sitting up as slowly as she could, Issie reached out her hand and touched his soft, velvet muzzle.

  “Hey, boy,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”

  Mystic nickered softly, leaning down so that Issie could feel his warm, horsey breath against her skin. “Come on, boy, help me to get up,” she asked the horse. She reached up her right hand and grabbed the ropey fibres of the pony’s mane. Holding on with all her strength, she braced herself and hung on as Mystic stepped backwards. Using him to pull against, Issie managed to haul herself to her feet.

  She was upright, but her legs were wobbly and she was shaking all over. Her left shoulder was definitely broken and her arm hurt really badly too. She was in so much pain, but she knew she needed to find Victory and Wombat. The pup must have recovered from his fight with the wild dog, because he had disappeared again. Issie had to find both of them and then somehow get home again and…Ohmygod!

  The bang that shattered the night air almost made Issie jump out of her skin. She looked up across the paddocks and suddenly two beams of light raked the fields. It was Digger Murphy. He had the searchlights attached to the roof of his ute shining on full beam across the paddock, focused on his mob of sheep and the dog limping among them.

  Digger had been in his ute all this time, listening to the radio and waiting. He was too far away to see or hear any of what had just happened. So he didn’t know that Wombat wasn’t a sheep-killer or that the pup was a hero. Wombat was still trying to herd the mob to safety, but as far as Digger knew, Wombat was the killer. All he could see was a vicious blue heeler worrying his sheep, and he knew exactly what to do. He raised the gun sights to his face, pointed the barrel and began to fire.

  Chapter 16

  As the shots echoed in the darkness, Issie screamed at Digger Murphy to stop. But her shouts were drowned out by the crack of the gun.

  “No! Stop! Please don’t hurt him!”

  Issie could barely move. She felt as if knives were piercing through her shoulder blade. She gripped on to Mystic’s mane and tried to manoeuvre herself without moving her left shoulder, but there was no way she could get on to the grey pony’s back. She had to do something. If she couldn’t get to Digger Murphy in time then Wombat had run out of chances.

  Issie had never felt so helpless. She shouted out again, but Digger was too far away to hear her. She needed to get closer, to help Wombat, but the pain in her shoulder was so intense it was hard to move. She couldn’t walk, let alone run.

  Digger Murphy had fired twice now, both times warning shots up in the sky to frighten the dog off, but the blue heeler refused to go. As Digger reloaded the rifle, the dog was in full view. Wombat was herding the sheep back around towards the ute, right in the beam of the searchlights. The pup couldn’t get past. Digger Murphy had parked the ute so that it blocked the gateway to the next paddock, to stop the sheep getting through, and the flatbed of the truck spread right across the gate. Wombat was heading straight for the ute and the man with the gun.

  Crouched down by the open door of the ute, Digger Murphy finished reloading the rifle. Slowly, he carefully raised the gun to his left shoulder and shut one eye, focusing his vision on his prey. He took a deep breath and held it, ready to shoot.

  But the next thing he knew there was a horse flying over his head! He looked up in horror and amazement as the underbelly of the great animal soared directly over him. Digger’s gun fell to the ground as he watched the horse arc clean over the flatbed of the ute!

  Digger’s astonishment was quickly replaced with anger as he watched the rider pull the horse up to a halt directly in front of the ute. “What the bleeding heck do you think you’re playing at?” he yelled. “You could have taken the top of my head off!” The black mare was crab-stepping anxiously, but her rider sat perfectly still and relaxed as she faced Digger Murphy.

  “Oh, Mr Murphy. Come on! Seriously, I was nowhere near you. You were never in any danger,” Tara Kelly replied. “Don’t tell me I scared you?”

  Tara looked as if jumping over the back of flatbed trucks was something she did every day and she couldn’t fathom why the farmer was making such a fuss.

  “You’re a lunatic!” Digger Murphy fumed. “I had a gun in my hand. I could have shot you!”

  Tara Kelly rode Demeter forward and pulled the mare up right next to the farmer. “That’s why I’m here. You need to stop shooting. One of my students is out there somewhere.”

  “What?” Digger Murphy’s expression changed completely from anger to real concern. “You mean there’s a kid out there?”

  “It’s one of the girls from Havenfields. She’s following the blue heeler pup that you’ve been shooting at.”

  Digger Murphy looked worried. “I would never have started shooting if I knew there was someone in the paddock…”

  Tara looked out into the darkness. “Well, you know now. And she’s still here somewhere, so help me find her. Use your searchlights to scan the paddocks.”

  Digger leapt on to the cab of the ute and swivelled the searchlights around so that they scanned the field. Tara’s eyes followed the beam.

  “There’s her horse!” Tara said. The light had illuminated Victory. The brown gelding was standing alone in the middle of the blackberry paddock, still completely terrified by the dog attack. He still had his saddle and bridle on, but there was no sign of Issie.

  “He must have thrown her,” Tara said. “Digger! Turn your searchlights in that direction. Over there!”

  As the light beamed across the open fields, Tara caught sight of a black shadow in the distance.

  “That’s her!” she said. And before Digger could even put the ute into gear, she was already urging Demeter on into a canter, heading across the fields towards the shadow and calling out Issie’s name.

  The pain in Issie’s shoulder was so intense, she was hanging on to Mystic’s mane desperately trying to keep from blacking out. She could see the ute in the distance and heard Tara calling to her. She knew she had to stand up long enough for Tara to see her, but she was having trouble staying upright and her legs were like jelly.

  As she heard Tara approaching, Issie felt she couldn’t hold on any longer. She lost her grip and let go of Mystic’s mane. She was falling again. She must have blacked out briefly because the next thing she knew Tara was by her side, trying to rouse her and telling her that everything was going to be OK. Then the ute pulled up alongside them and Digger lifted her off the ground, wrapping her up in a thick, scratchy blanket. Issie felt a flash of pain as he put her on to the back of the ute.

  “We’re taking you home. You’ll be OK,” Tara said. She stayed with Issie on the back of the flatbed, cradling her in her lap the whole way home as the ute bumped and bounced back to Havenfields.

  On the ride home, despite being in shock, Issie protested that they couldn’t leave without Victory. The horse was still out there somewhere with his saddle and bridle on. And Wombat was out in the paddock too—they needed to get the pup who had tried to save her. She was still insisting that Tara take her back to find them when they arrived at the villa.

  “You’re not going anywhere except the hospital,” Avery told her bluntly when he saw the state she was in. “Let Tara and Digger go back out there and deal with it. We need to get you to a doctor.”

  An hour later they were in the radiology room at Lilydale Bush Hospital. The drive in Avery’s car had been far more comfortable than it had been bumping over the paddocks on the back of Digger’s ute. Stella and Dee Dee had come along to keep Issie company and after she had told them what had happened with Wombat and the wild dog, Dee Dee spent the rest of the trip burbling on telling long and pointless stories a
nd giggling at her own jokes.

  Incredibly, Issie didn’t find Dee Dee’s endless chatter irritating any more. In fact, she had to tell her room-mate to stop making her laugh as the giggling was hurting her shoulder.

  The X-rays revealed a broken collarbone. It didn’t have to be put in plaster—it just required a sling and a prescription for some painkillers.

  “You’re a very tough girl. You must have a pretty high pain threshold,” the surgeon told her.

  Issie swallowed two of the pills and felt the pain ebbing away. “They might make you sleepy,” Issie remembered the nurse saying as she escorted her to the door. Issie didn’t recall anything more about the car trip home after that. The next thing she knew, she was waking up in her bed back at Havenfields. What time was it? She looked at her alarm clock. It was eleven-thirty. Almost midday! She gave a low groan and Dee Dee, who had been sitting quietly on the bed opposite her, came scurrying over.

  “Hey, roomie!” Dee Dee whispered, smiling at her. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

  Issie looked around the room. It was different somehow. “Where am I?” she groaned.

  “In our room,” Dee Dee said. “I tidied it up as a nice surprise. I thought you might wake up when I vacuumed, but you just kept on sleeping.” She smiled at Issie. “Stella and Kate have been dying to see you. I said I would get them as soon as you woke up.”

  Issie nodded. She was still feeling bleary and exhausted, but she wanted to see her friends.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” Dee Dee left the room and when she returned, Stella and Kate were with her. There was someone else with them as well.

  “Wombat!” Issie grinned at the sight of the pup. “You’re OK!”

  “Tara found him early this morning,” Stella said. “She was out there half the night looking for him.”

  “Is it true what Dee Dee told me?” Kate asked. “Did Wombat really fight a wild dog?”