Page 31 of Chasing the Wild
The girl is trembling.
“Layla, talk to me.”
“It’s the herd. Some are hurt.” There’s tears in her eyes.
“How bad?” My mind is already running back over all the fences I checked and trying to remember if there’s something that I missed.
“I don’t know. There’s blood, and I was trying to keep one of them from making it worse—I needed to get supplies, and I couldn’t call you.” Her words come out a mile a minute.
“Get the kit. Whatever you need. We’ll take the truck.”
She swallows, nods, then heads to grab the equipment.
As I secure Peaches, I’m trying to figure out how I’ve got bleeding cattle in the middle of winter when I was only just down there earlier feeding out, and everything seemed fine.
My jaw is clenched so tight I’m pretty sure I hear a pop as Layla reappears with the kit, and she tosses it all in the back tray of the truck. I’ve already got the ignition running, and as soon as she’s in her seat I take off in a spray of gravel across the yard.
“I’m sorry—” Her fingers twist in her lap and they’re coated in thick, sticky red smears.
“Not your fault.”
If I hadn’t spent so long splitting wood trying to get my head on straight, I would have been there.
“There’s at least three of them hurt that I could see.” We bump over ridges in the track as I steer us towards the paddock. It’s almost dark now, the headlights bouncing over the fence below us in the dwindling light.
“You did the right thing coming to get me.” My fingers tighten on the wheel.
Up ahead, I can see the shadowy outlines of the cattle, and we pull up to the gate with a skid. Layla is out of the cab before I can say a word.
As I pull the truck closer, the sweep of headlights reveals tracks of bright red in the thick layer of snow coating the ground.
Layla rushes toward where she’s got three of the cattle penned together using some temporary rolled-up fencing that I keep lying around down here. At least she had the sense to keep them contained, otherwise fuck knows how long we’d be out here in the dark trying to find them.
From how much blood is lying around, it could have been fatal if we hadn’t gotten to them before morning.
“I couldn’t see any others, but there might be.” She lifts the box with supplies out of the back of the truck behind me and I reach under the seat to grab us each a headtorch. Then I fetch the spare halter and rope I keep in the back of the truck.
“Here.” I hand her one of the flashlights, and flick my own onto high beam so I can get a good look at the cattle.
The three are already lying down, which will at least make my job easier, and as I approach one of them lets out a snort followed by a low noise of protest.
“Easy, girls.” I keep my voice low as I walk around the edge of the temporary pen Layla created. She’s got them in a kind of half-circle, using the paddock fence on one side to keep them together.
As I squat down and adjust my light I can see the stains of copper and brighter red across the snow beneath them.
Each has what looks like a shallow gash across their flanks, just at the height of one of the fence posts. Shallow enough that it looks like a protruding nail has done the damage where they’ve maybe rubbed up against it, but it’s hard to tell and the amount of blood is possibly making everything look worse than it is.
Of course it's suspicious they’ve all been injured in the same manner. My spine stiffens knowing, but not wanting to admit out loud, what the obvious explanation for this bloodstained situation is.
“I’ll get the first one restrained, you separate the other two with a bit more of that fencing.” I direct Layla and she’s doing exactly as I ask. The first one I manage to fix the halter on and put my weight down to hobble her on the ground, doesn’t put up much of a struggle. This small herd is used to being handled and being around people. They’re not exactly tame, but they don’t scare easily either.
Layla brings what she needs over, and quietly sets to work while I force my weight down on the heifer. She kneels in the snow and examines the laceration.
“I don't think I need to shave it. I think it just needs to be cleaned. Maybe antibiotics just to be sure.” Layla digs around in the kit, searching for what she needs, but I can see her hands are shaking. Either from the cold or the shock or both.
“Do what you think is best.” I trust her judgment. From what I can see it’s just a small gash and while I’m still trying to figure out what caused it, that is going to have to wait until we’ve dealt with these animals first.
Layla works quickly, despite the cold and the darkness settling in. Our breaths fog up in the icy air and the rumbling beast beneath me lets out the occasional soft bellow.
