The big horse truck raored down the muddy road, swinging and bumping roughly along. It was a makeshift vehicle, with just a tarp tied over metal hoops over the bed. In the darkness of night under the tarp, a jet-black stallion rolled his eyes and snorted angrily as he stomped his feet and tried to keep his balance. He was a monstrous animal, 16.5 hands high at the withers, but not heavy. He was light and refined, with an almost Arab look about him. He was a Thoroughbred.

The truck kept swerving around turns in the black, pouring night. As it rounded an especially sharp turn, it hit a deep pothole and bumped so high it almost lifted off of the ground. The stallion in the back screamed his anger, and then the rope that tied him snapped. He flew backwards when the truck jarred, and knocked the wooden ramp down as he tumbled out of the back of the truck. He landed with a crash in the mud and icy rain in fury and pain. The truck kept speeding along at 70 mph, not noticeing that it had lost its valuable cargo.

After the truck was out of sight, the stallion scrambled to his feet. The mud was almost 6 inches deep here, and gave him a hard time of it. Finally he got his legs underneath him, and looked around, with a kind of dazed fury in his gleaming eyes. He wasn't seriously injured, but he had bruises. There were a few cuts and scrapes on his back from where he had knocked the ramp, but he was none the worse for his ordeal.

After he recovered from his shock, he trotted stiffly underneath the trees. They did nothing to sheild himfrom the sleet, being leafless, but he leaned against them anyway. He could here nothing but the pounding of rain and see nothing but the darkness of night. He felt dispirited and lonely, not to mention cold and wet. Finally, he dozed off into a fitfull sleep of nothing but nightmares and dreams of the past 48 hours.

The day's last rays of winter sunlight filtered through the black horse's stall window. He stood relaxed, one foot cocked. It would be feeding time soon. That was good. Grain and hay were good.

Suddenly he heard a commotion outside. Herushed to his door and looked out. The groom lay still on the ground outside of the stable with the buckets of grain spilled around him. Two masked men that smelled like smoke, dirt, drugs, horses, and mean were hurrying down the aisle, dressed in black, and looking at the name plates on the stalls. Thunderhead, Exotic Halo, Perfect Heart, Battlecry! One grabbed the halter from its hook on the door of the stall labeled Battlecry and entered cautiously. The horse snorted anxiously and then with cat-like quickness lashed out at the intruder. The man lept back and when the horse went back down he leapt forward and haltered him quickly. This angered the stallion. He neighed shrilly and bolted through the open door, dragging his captor with him. However, the other man was outside and he leapt to grab the horse's halter. He then directed him toward the barn door, which was now filled by the blackness of a big truck. He snorted and neighed again, and lashed out and kicked the man. He dropped like a stone, and then the horse bolted through the gaping hole, and was swallowed up by the darkness. The men rushed to bolt it shut, and then lept into the cab of the truck, and roared away down the drive.

4 hours later, they left the town for the open countryside. Thjey drove through forests, fields, meadows, and mountains. It was dark now, and very hard to see in the dark night. They pulled off into a cornfield, and slept in the truck after tossing the horse some moldy hay.

The next morning, they were off again. They were hoping to reach their destination before nightfall, because they skies showed signs of rain. They had to stop several times because the big black stallion as causing trouble, and they gave him more hay to quiet him.

The bottom dropped just after 5pm, and by then, it was darkening. They had about two more hours to go, and tthen they could get rid of that wretchid horse! After another hour, they reached the outskirts of Sparkling Creek. It was starting to sleet, and the way was slippery. Finally, they hit a road through the Downs, and were almost to the Corrals. Then they could sell the horse, stay at the motel, be nice and warm, have a nice beer...Then came the pothole. They jarred over it, spillind their coke and swearing aloud. They heard the horse neigh and snort, and heard a loud thud. Then they drove on, speeding up, eager for a bed.