“Unveiling Secrets: How Jess Phoenix’s ‘The Race’ Transforms the Meaning of Survival in an Unforgiving World”
At least ten minutes had passed since I had pushed the button that was supposed to summon help. I could not see any activity at the horse station, and it seemed further away than my initial estimation. The gentle upward slope of the valley’s other side obscured the lights from view as we descended further. We were walking blind, and I was relying on my internal compass to keep roughly on course. I refrained from using my wrist GPS, as the LED screen would be seen in the dark.
The now-familiar whine of the bike’s engine reached us again and I halted, heart staccato in my ears. I inhaled slowly and peered over Anthracite’s back, trying to keep him still and silent. Horses can sense things beyond human perception, and he froze into a life-size horse statue. The bike slowed, its driver searching. I had never been so appreciative of a horse’s color, either before or since. Suddenly, the bike’s headlight cut a swath through the heavy velvet of Mongolian night. He may have seen us because the bike swung back down the road and gathered speed.
