Rick and Carl, Mum and my dad, too. I tried not to look at them, zoning out of the gathered crowd and focusing back on the fence. The drop was quite big, and Samson wouldn’t see it, I angled him into position, but our time would be close, so I gave him a squeeze encouraged him onwards, and I was so happy, knowing how solid we looked, how in sync we were.
This would be our victory, our sweetest moment.
I tried to be smart, aiming for the far edge to give us a couple of paces advantage on the final stretch. I tried to look our best, tried to show off, tried to prove how great we were, how perfect we were, how great my Samson was.
And I took it wrong.
I made a mistake.
I gave Samson mixed signals, and he turned awkwardly, taking the fence mid-way. He was off balance when he took off, and I was, too. I couldn’t adjust my position quickly enough to compensate, couldn’t guide him for the drop, and in my hesitation he’d lost some height.
A moment of horror as I realised the inevitable, my breath leaving me as I felt Samson’s rear hooves clip the top rail. I didn’t loose the reins quickly enough, and I was too far forward in my saddle. He hit the ground heavily on his front legs, and I couldn’t sit back to rebalance him.
We toppled, and I felt it in slow motion. Felt him lurching forward and taking me with him.
His front legs went from under him, his unbalanced rear end crashing forwards to send us both tumbling, and the bank was unyielding, unforgiving.
I heard a gasp from the crowd, and my own heart in my ears.
The whistle of the wind.
A weird stillness.
And then a thump as we landed, a terrible sound as we skidded. And pain. In my leg. Pain as his weight rolled onto me, and pinned me.
My head bashed into the ground, and the world felt far away, my vision blurred.
And everything hurt.
People and screams, and Samson’s breath.
And then it all faded away.
That horrible moment when time stands still. When you see the inevitable, the horror unfolding right in front of you, but you are powerless to do shit about it.
I couldn’t tell you the moment my breath caught in my throat, when that instinctual sense of dread enveloped me and chilled me to the bone. Their jump just didn’t look right, didn’t feel right, and had me pushing through to the barrier before they’d even fallen, helpless and petrified as our beautiful girl went tumbling.
Samson’s legs went from under him, and he went forward, and Jesus, they landed so hard, both of them, and there was a scream, a horrible scream as she took his weight, a horrible thump as they landed and slid.
And then she was still. Our beautiful girl was still.
Samson writhed on the floor, and there was blood. His eyes were wild and frantic, his instincts raging as the officials rushed over.
And so did we. Rick and Debbie, and David, too. All four of us piling over the rope.
Katie’s eyes fluttered as she regained consciousness, her gaze flicking around before the horror came rushing back. Her face contorted with pain, her leg still stuck under Samson’s shoulder, and she was ashen, so ashen.
“My leg!” she screamed. “It hurts! It hurts so bad!”
The officials were trying to stop Samson struggling, but he was wild, his legs flailing. He couldn’t get a grip against the slope of the bank, trying desperately to get enough leverage to take his own weight and failing. Both of his front legs were bloody, but one looked worse, his hoof hanging awkwardly as he flailed.
I felt sick. So fucking sick.
Not so much at the injury, but at the expressions on the faces of the people who knew this kind of shit. The people calling for medical assistance on their walkie-talkies.
They hitched Samson enough to free Katie’s leg, and she screamed a terrible scream as they pulled her out, and pulled her clear. Her mother was at her side, and so were we, trying to tell her it would be alright, that she would be alright, but she wasn’t even listening. Her eyes were fixed on Samson and were streaming with tears.
“Help him,” she said, and her hand clutched at mine. “I don’t care about me, just help him! Oh God, Carl, don’t let them hurt him. Please don’t let them hurt him!”
She pushed me towards him, and I moved,