The party had been going on for three days now, what started out as a huge mix of over a hundred people, stoners, jocks, preppies, punks some skinheads and even a few bikers had boiled down to a hard core of about two dozen serious party goers. The party, like most big ones in our town was at Pete's place out on North Creek drive up in the hills. Pete was an ex-biker who lost his legs in a refinery explosion, with the settlement he got from the company he bought the house, the surrounding land and kept enough to live off of for the rest of his life. With nothing left to do, Pete got high and threw parties. I had known Pete for years myself, always considered him a good friend, I started living with him when he decided to buy a couple horses. Pete couldn't ride em, but for some reason he wanted em, wanted to watch em, watch his friends ride em and just watch em, I don't much know why, but Pete wanted em. I knew a fair amount about tending horses, my family owned horses forever, so I moved up with Pete to tend the horses and help him with the place.