Free Indestructible: V Plague Book 7 by Dirk Patton Page A

deep, loud voice and I
briefly thought about shooting him just to shut him up.  Standing, I refused to
dust myself off and repositioned to try again.  And achieved the same results. 
Joe laughed harder and I was about ready to drag his ass off his horse and beat
on him when he finally shut up and hopped down.
    The horse had taken me crashing into her side without so
much as a twitch, merely bending her long neck around to stare at the crazy
human lying in the dirt.  I kept waiting for her to start laughing, but all she
did was lift her tail and spray a stream of urine onto the ground.
    “Try it without your pack and rifles,” Joe said, walking
over and extending a hand to help me to my feet.
    I dropped the pack on the ground and worked the rifle slings
over my head.  Probably fifty or sixty pounds lighter I took a moment to rub
the horse’s neck before attempting another mount.  This time I jumped too hard,
my momentum carrying me onto her back and nearly dumping me to the ground on
the far side.  Only a fistful of mane kept me from going all the way over.
    “Say one word.  I fucking dare you!”  I said to Joe as he
held my pack up. 
    He shook his head, a smirk on his face as I took the pack
and slipped my arms through the straps.  He handed me the rifles, walked to his
horse and sprang onto its back with little apparent effort.  Asshole.

13
     
    We spent several minutes walking the horses around the
bottom of the depression.  Joe obviously knew what he was doing, but I was
struggling just to stay balanced.  Fortunately the big appy was calm and
steady, forgiving all my errors as I got the hang of how to let her know what I
wanted her to do.  Eventually I was able to get her to walk, stop and turn as
she responded to my body.  I thought I was going to wind up on my back the
first time I pushed her into a trot, but held on for all I was worth.
    “I’ll learn the rest as we go,” I said after completing two
circles around the area at a slow run.
    Joe nodded and turned his mount to head up the closest game
trail.  He had released the second roan and it stuck to the tail of the horse
he was riding.  Shifting pressure and pressing with my legs as I leaned
slightly forward, my horse fell in behind them and we were off.  I still had a
death grip on her mane, thankful she wasn’t objecting to me using the only
handle I could find.
    “Would it have been too much to ask for your warriors to use
saddles?”  I called out.  Whatever Joe said in return was lost in the sound of
the horses’ hooves on the rocky soil of the slope.  Probably just as well.  I
doubted it was anything flattering about either my heritage or me.
    We crested on the far side of the bowl from where we had
arrived.  More endless prairie stretched away to the north.  Joe had pulled to
a stop and I maneuvered until I was sitting next to him.  The view from the
horse’s back was dramatically better, being nearly twice as high as when I had
been standing on the ground.  Far to the northeast a massive dust cloud spread
across the horizon, appearing as a heavy, brown smudge against the blue sky
above.
    “What the hell is that?”  Joe asked.
    “I was hoping you were going to tell me that’s a storm,” I
said, but he shook his head.  “That’s a big herd of something, then.  Unless
the buffalo have made a miraculous recovery, it has to be infected.”
    I had raised my rifle and was looking through the scope as I
spoke, but whatever was churning up the ground was too far away.  It was at a
point over the horizon from where I sat, only the dust rising in the air
letting me know something was happening.  Joe turned to me, a look of horror
and revulsion on his face.
    “How many does it take to do that?”  He asked, pointing at
the billowing dust cloud.
    “A lot,” I said.  “I saw a herd in Texas a couple of days
ago that was miles long.  Probably three million or so.”
    He turned back to the front, staring ahead with