Misty rain starts to fall when we get to the barn. I put on my jacket and hide the dagger in my sleeve when we walk inside so I can stash my purse in my tack locker. There usually aren’t a lot of people here on Wednesday mornings, and the rain kept some of the regulars at home. I wave to Penny, who’s in the indoor arena working a horse, and start out toward the woods.
I’ve never walked—on foot—out here, and I greatly underestimated the time it takes to get to the end of the trail. It’s raining now, and I pull the hood up on my jacket. It’s cold and this jacket is water resistant but not waterproof. I’m going to be an icicle by the time I get back to the car.
Going around the barrier that blocks off the dangerous part of the trail, I get a bad feeling. I pull the dagger from its sheath, gripping it tight. The urge to run threatens to take over and I have to force myself to take in slow breaths.
The big tree is only a few yards ahead. My eyes dart back and forth, heart speeding up. Hunter, who’s been several paces ahead this whole time, stops and looks back, waiting for me. I’ve kept my mental shields up the whole time, and I need to drop them so I can see what’s out there.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was scared. Stopping right next to the big tree, I close my eyes and push down the mental walls. The bad feeling intensifies and it’s like I’m split in two. I want to run as fast as I can back to the barn, but I’m also being pulled forward.
Nodding to myself, I open my eyes and keep going. I’ve never been past the ravine, since the trail loops back to the barn at this point. I don’t know if this is still Hollow Creek property, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I carefully pick my way down and am out of breath when I climb up the other side.
Tucking my wet hair back, I peer through the trees, fighting against the overwhelming feeling that something terrible is going to happen. I consider myself an intuitive person, but it can be hard to determine what’s actually a gut feeling and what’s me sensing a spirit’s emotions.
There’s a pond with an old rickety dock at the bottom of the hill. I had no idea there was any sort of body of water out here. It’s overgrown with cattails and lily pads, yet something looks off.
The water is too dark. Too still.
“Hello?” I whisper and push forward. “If you can hear me, know I can hear you too.”
Adrenaline surges through me and I whirl around, slashing the dagger through the air and branches snap behind me. I want to run, and for some reason I know there’s an old white barn on the other side of the pond. I’ll see it as soon as I get up the hill, and it’s safe there.
If I can get to the barn, then they can’t kill me.
“W-who is trying to kill you?” I ask, hating how weak my voice sounds. Whoever was trying to kill did kill if I’m talking to a ghost. I won’t bring that up just yet. Not all spirits are aware they are dead.
Swallowing my fear, I click my tongue, calling for Hunter to follow, and stop by the pond. It used to be bigger, I can tell by the erosion of the soil around it. I step onto the dock, looking down at the water. Boards creak under my feet, and there’s no freaking way I’m walking all the way out. If something doesn’t reach up and grab me from the water, then I’ll crash through the rotting boards and get stuck, coming out covered with leeches and an antibiotic-resistant infection.
Something crashes through the woods behind us, and Hunter growls, fur standing on end. Heart in my throat, I turn and my eyes widen in terror. Hunter moves in front of me, fangs barred. A dark gray wolf slowly descends down the hill, yellow eyes trained on me.
I suck in air but forget how to breathe. The wolf has a strip of missing fur on its face in the exact same spot where Mystery’s hoof hit the dog-creature in the woods. It’s the same one, isn’t it?
I need to do something. Yell, scream, pick up a rock and throw it at the thing. Yet I’m rooted to the spot, too terrified to move. Hunter lets out a menacing growl, lowering his stance and getting ready to pounce. I blink, inhale, and tell myself I need to sprint forward and stab the thing before it hurts Hunter.
Before I can, something splashes in the water, and I turn to see a man emerging from the reeds right by the dog. I take a quick step forward, more terrified right now than I have ever been before. Water drips from the man, and dirt covers his face. His skin is tinged brown with decay, and there’s something wrong with his eyes.