Their faces are pale. One of the boys nearly trips over his own feet.
“Whoa. Slow down,” Dr. Seth calls. “What’s the hurry?”
“The bullpen. One of the bulls busted through a panel.” The kid points wildly toward the pastures. “He’s loose.”
Seth mutters a curse.
“Everyone, to the dining hall,” he orders. “Now. Stay there until someone tells you otherwise.”
The students don’t argue. They take off running.
Royce comes barreling around the corner of the barn, and his eyes lock on me.
“Jovie,” he says breathlessly, “you ever drive one of your dad’s lumber trailers?”
I blink. “Yeah.”
“Good.” Without hesitation, he tosses a set of keys, and I catch them. “There’s a stock trailer hooked to a black ranch truck beside the barn. Go get it.”
“What’s happening?”
“Me and Axle are going after a maverick bull.”
As if summoned by his name, Axle appears on horseback at a full gallop, flying behind him.
“We’ve got to keep him off the fence line,” Royce says. “And out of the trees.”
The trees.
Crap.
If that bull reaches the forest, finding him again will be a nightmare.
“Meet us in the north pasture.”
I’m already moving toward the academy’s barn. “Got it.”
I race around the side and spot the truck parked beneath a steel-covered garage attached to the building. The stock trailer sits hooked behind it.
I yank open the driver’s door and climb inside.
The engine roars to life, and for one brief second, I’m sixteen years old again, hauling lumber trailers for Daddy. Then instinct takes over. I throw it in gear and pull out.
The truck bounces over the uneven ground as I head for the pasture gate. I can see Axle and Royce in the distance. Tiny moving figures racing across the grass.
And they’re moving fast.
I reach the gate, throw the truck in park, and jump out. I swing the gate open, climb back in, pull through, then jump out again to close it behind me.
By the time I get moving again, my heart is hammering against my ribs.
The truck rattles across the pasture.
Ahead of me, I finally spot the bull. A big black brute. Head low and running hard toward freedom—straight for the tree line.
“Oh no.”
I cut the truck hard to the right, the trailer shaking violently as I try to angle ahead of him, to become an obstacle between him and the forest.
