She leant behind Vicky and pulled the driver’s rifle from the securing clips. As soon as she was out of the vehicle she opened the bolt and unclipped the magazine, checking it was loaded, then set off at a run, scrambling across the blockage on the road.
‘Hey! Bring my rifle back,’ the driver called.
When she reached the horse with the broken back and saw the extent of its wounds she steeled herself, took aim between its eyes and squeezed the trigger. She reached the next horse that stood holding a splintered leg, squealing with pain. She shot it as the driver reached her with Vicky hard on his heels.
As Lucy handed his rifle to him the driver said, ‘I didn’t expect that. Where did you learn to fire a rifle?’
‘Guns are necessary in the bush. You never know when you have to put an injur
