Emil’s world spun around. The white truck rushed past them, and the gust of wind it sent their way was the last push needed to shove Emil out of the saddle.
He gave a choked cry, swallowing the foggy air as he made a somersault before dropping into a cushion full of spikes. The bush had needles that pierced his damp clothes and clawed their way along his flesh, but as he tried to make himself stand up, one of his feet slipped, and he dropped face first into a puddle. He chose the moment of impact to voice his shock, and his teeth closed on mud.
“Fuck!” he yelled into the stormy void as soon as he rose, making squelching noises while he unsucked his limbs from the thick slime, but he wouldn’t give up.
He’d leave Dybukowo if it killed him.
Jinx ran back to the asphalt, and when lightning brightened up the gloomy night, his eyes flashed like two beacons, spooking Emil, even though the two of them had been friends for years.
“Come on, Jinx. It’s fine. Let’s go.”
Though it wasn’t fine. Something in his ankle had cracked and while he ignored the pain, he was sure he might have to visit an emergency room sometime in the future. Tonight, he’d focus on finding shelter and resting, but he was still far too close to Dybukowo for his liking. Maybe he should ride all the way to the nearest hospital and sleep there? That did sound like a decent enough idea.
Thunder rolled over his head, and when three lightning bolts spread their branches over the landscape, the rain gained in ferocity, as if the electrical power somehow cut the sky open, releasing more water.
Emil spat out more of the dirt he’d bitten into and opened his mouth wide, gathering some of the droplets to cleanse his mouth from the clay-like flavor. He no longer cared about his clothes getting wet, because they’d soaked all the way through and felt like the embrace of an ice monster who had come to inform Emil of the approaching winter.
Jinx huffed, watching Emil from just a couple of paces away, but Emil gave himself a moment to look back toward the hills he could no longer see in the foggy darkness. Maybe this was for the better. His hopes had been trampled over, but at least he didn’t have to experience the disappointment of Adam rejecting him later on, once Emil allowed his dreams of a lasting relationship and a new beginning to flourish. In a way, maybe he should be grateful to that pig Koterski for cutting his suffering short.
“Jinx. Don’t make this harder. It’s just you and me now.”
Emil approached the black beast, but Jinx backed away at the same pace, as if they were playing a game. The thought that his horse could be possessed too was an unwelcome one and sent shivers down his spine. He still remembered granddad’s stories about Forefathers’ Eve, about ghosts of ancestors being close on that night. They used to always close all their shutters and stay indoors. Back then, Emil had considered it their little tradition. They’d sit in candlelight and play cards while reminiscing about Grandma or his parents.
Being out on a night like this, on his own, gave Emil the chills even so many years on, but while he could have dismissed them as irrational before, his newfound knowledge of the paranormal cast a new light on the sense of being watched from somewhere in the fog-covered woods.
Especially tonight.
Emil’s mount took one step back for every single one Emil took toward him, and the sense of eeriness it created prompted Emil to dash toward his horse.
White light descended between them in a flash, evaporating the rain and hitting a small tree on the edge of the woods. Emil stopped breathing when its slim trunk broke in two, creating a Y-shaped symbol engulfed by flames.
He stumbled back, shocked by the proximity of the lightning bolt. He could swear some of his hair stood up from the closeness of death, but Jinx stilled, his black eyes watching Emil from between the burning arms of the broken tree.
The rumble of an engine approaching made Emil leap toward the horse, and he managed to grab the reins at last. “Come over here, you idiot!” He pulled Jinx to the side by force, barely making room for the approaching car. What the hell was this kind of traffic on a country road, the day before All Saints’?
But instead