Page 81 of Kentucky Nights
His silence means he knows I’m right.
The bull jostles, slamming my leg against the metal chute I’m trapped in with him.
“I can’t believe you’re the first to ride Gunpowder tonight. He’s wired,” the chute boss says to me.
“Can’t wait.” I tighten my legs on his side when he starts swinging his head left and right.
His horns are huge, towering over his head to the sky, and are as white as the moon without a single spot on them.
I take one last glance at my mate, not wanting her to notice how nervous I am. This bull is strong, weighs thousands of pounds, and seems like the type to charge, stomp, and run you over after throwing you off. If I could use my vampire abilities, I wouldn’t have to worry about potentially dying or getting away from Gunpowder.
Tightening the braided rope around my hand, I keep a firm grip. I’m careful not to use my enhanced strength. I’m just a man out here, and that’s what I love about this sport.
As I wait my turn, the rider ahead of me just gave permission to the chute boss to open the gate.
“Cal McCartey is off to a powerful start, riding Heaven or Hell, a bull who hospitalized a rider only last year from a severe head injury. Hopefully, Cal will survive this monstrous ride,” The announcer informs.
Heaven or Hell is slate grey Brahma with mismatched horns. One curves up like normal, while the other points down.
One to Heaven.
One to Hell.
The name is fitting.
The bull jumps and twists higher than I’ve ever seen before. Silence falls over the crowd as they watch with a held breath if Cal will come out of this unscathed.
The rider’s hat soars off his head. Heaven or Hell stomps on it, flattening and retiring it for good.
Another harsh buck and twist, Cal flies off, landing hard on his back. Even though I’m on Gunpowder, Cal’s groans can be heard from where I sit when he tries to get up after getting the wind knocked out of him. He isn’t moving fast enough to get out of the arena. Cal holds his side, limping to the rails to exit.
But Heaven or Hell is not done by how he is pawing the ground, lowers his head, and releases a violent grunt. It’s as if Cal is a huge red flag by how the bull has set his sights on him.
Heaven or Hell charges.
The rodeo clowns try to intervene by distracting the bull to chase them, but it’s too late.
I hold my breath for the guy, knowing it’s far too late to save him.
The bull rams his head into Cal’s back, the horn hooking onto his shirt. Cal somersaults through the air, and his being attacked leaves me helpless. On any other day, I’d be able to save him.
Not here. Not now. I wouldn’t get to him in time before he hits the ground, anyway. Injuries are part of the sport. All riders at some point in their career have been injured.
Including me. Before the advancement of medicine and my vampire abilities, there was a time I stayed in the hospital for a month from a head injury. Being stepped on by a two-thousand-pound animal will do that to a man.
Cal lands on his side with a hard and audiblewhack.Everyone, me included, groans in unison. He screams in agony, clutching the arm that is broken, judging by the piece of bone sticking out of it.
If only I could talk to this bull to tell it to stop its rampage. I can’t, and it is so fucking frustrating.
“Damn, I don’t know if they will be able to get him out of there in time,” the chute boss states with heavy sadness in his words. He takes off his hat, pressing it over his heart to show respect.
Cal manages to roll to his good side, missing another savage step by the bull. Heaven or Hell doesn’t like to lose, it seems. He spins around and bucks, hitting Cal in the chest.
The snap of his sternum has me turn my head away. I don’t feel comfortable watching a good man’s death.
“Folks, this is hard to watch. Cal McCartey is a worldwide, three-time bull riding champion. There’s always that one bullthat people will remember, and I’m afraid today is one of those days.”
I’m going to break the announcer’s neck when I’m done here. Who says something so insensitive to a man fighting for his life?
