1: You’d Better Run
It was dark outside, and Carmine was all alone. The woods surrounding her were eerily silent. Where were her friends when she needed them? Crouching down behind the sturdiest tree she could find, she placed her fingers lightly on the ground, like she was about to start a race. In a way, she guessed she was.
Carmine felt the leaves crunching under her fingers. The only sound was the constant thudding of her own heart in her ears. The fog started to roll in, oppressive and so thick that she could barely see more than a few feet in front of her. Carmine wondered vaguely if it was possible to suffocate by fog. That would probably be preferable anyway. She tried to steady her nerves, to prepare for what was coming.
She looked up the hill, to the road that wound through the trees above her like an oily black snake. The fog that had blanketed it only a minute ago parted, rolling down the hill towards her. She hoped it would help hide her, but she knew in her heart it wouldn’t.
With the fog at the top of the hill now gone, she was able to see him clearly as he came around the bend – a thick, muscular figure dressed all in black. His cape blew back behind him in the wind, and tendrils of smoke floated up from the space between his shoulders – from the place where his head should have been. The horse he rode on was black as coal, and sparks flew from its hooves every time they struck the pavement.
The rider thundered around the bend, and Carmine could practically feel the ground shake with every step the horse took. When it was halfway down the road, the horse stopped abruptly. It neighed, rearing up on its hind legs. Flames burst from its nostrils, lighting up its black-dead eyes. The rider turned his headless shoulders, facing downhill – right in the direction Carmine was hiding. He lifted up his arm, revealing a blotchy white-green head that he held in his hand. The tiny black eyes darted back and forth like flies, but it zeroed in on Carmine as easily as if she’d been standing in an open field. When it spotted her, the head grinned wickedly, revealing its rows of jagged yellow teeth.
“Carmine.” the head rasped. It laughed maliciously, and she shivered.
She stood up slowly, carefully backing down the hill. Her eyes never left the rider. The head watched with glee, and the rider’s free hand fingered a long white whip at his side. It was made of bone, and Carmine knew what it was instantly – somebody’s spine. Maybe her own spine would be his next whip.
Her foot hit a tree root and she stumbled backwards, landing in the dry leaves. The head laughed even harder. Then, without warning, the horse and rider leapt off the road, barreling down straight for her.
The rider closed in with lightning-quick speed, and Carmine knew – there was no escape. The horse reared up on its hind legs only inches from her. In desperation, she put her arm up over her head, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.
As the horse had lurched upwards, the rider reached his hand back, unfurling his whip. And as the horse’s hooves came closer to Carmine, she knew – the whip would get her first. And she was right. The rider snapped his hand forward and the whip came crashing down – straight towards Carmine’s head.
Carmine sat bolt upright in bed, breathing like she’d just run a marathon. She looked frantically around the room – desk, chair, dresser. There was no sign of the rider in black. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. But she was still shaking. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand, scrolling through the list of people she knew. Sure it was the middle of the night, but Carmine really wanted to talk to someone.
All summer, Carmine had been having the same dream. Ever since she and her friends had tracked down and disposed of a headless rider of their own, Carmine had been plagued with that nightmare at least once a week. She’d really been hoping it’d get better; after all, she was a junior now – too old to be having silly nightmares. But so far, she hadn’t had any luck – it just seemed so real. Carmine had never had a dream as vivid as this before. And no matter how hard she tried, it just kept coming back.
After a minute, Carmine scrolled back up to the top of her list. There was one person who was pretty much guaranteed to be awake: her friend Anna.
Carmine and Anna had been friends since Anna moved to town freshman year. And of course, she’d been there with Carmine and the rest of the group when they faced the Dullahan – that headless rider Carmine just couldn’t seem to forget.
Are you awake? Carmine texted Anna. She got a reply almost instantly.
Yes. Then, Are you ok?
Yeah. Suddenly Carmine felt like an idiot. Was she really texting her friend because she had a bad dream? No sooner had she finished the thought than her phone lit up: one new message.
Isn’t it kind of late? Shouldn’t you be asleep?
Maybe. Carmine knew that Anna’s question probably wasn’t rhetorical. Unlike Carmine, Anna wasn’t exactly human. She was a vampire, and had been one for something like three hundred years. Carmine wasn’t sure if Anna ever slept, and even if she did, it wasn’t nearly as much as Carmine. Carmine’s phone beeped again.
Did something happen?
Trouble sleeping. Carmine wrote after a minute. She hoped that would be enough to keep Anna from suspecting anything was really wrong. Carmine knew they were friends, sure. And they’d been through a lot together in the past two years. But something still kept her from telling Anna everything. In the back of her mind, she always wondered if they kept her around because none of this ever seemed to bother her – even though she was the only human in the group. Carmine couldn’t afford to let them know she might not be able to handle it.
Anything I can do?
No, I’m fine. I’ll see you at school.
Get some rest.
K. Carmine sent before putting her phone back on the desk. She only hoped she could.
