Chapter 9
Esmie read Merel’s diary twice, just to be absolutely sure she wasn’t missing anything obvious, grabbed another sandwich from the farmer’s market and drank her Gatorade, then ordered an Uber to deliver her to the Dollar General on the edge of town, less than two miles from where she needed to be. She’d walk the rest of the way.
Taking her time, she strolled through the dark with her phone’s flashlight shining the way.
Moonlight glowed through the lattice of tree branches overhead, creating intricate patterns on the asphalt at her feet.
She looked up and saw the occasional twinkle of stars through the trees and smiled softly.
It was a lovely night, cool and crisp, but not cold enough to need a full-on coat.
She did have her gloves on, but she wasn’t truly cold.
A playful breeze occasionally lifted the leaves from the pavement and danced them around her feet. Beautiful.
And she was alone in the dark. The conditions would be right.
Smiling wider, she quickened her step, looking for the old wooden rail fence she’d climbed through which bordered the field around the old church.
She missed the guys. She couldn’t wait to tell them she knew where the Horseman’s head was and watch their reactions.
Almost forty years of curse could end tonight, and she’d be there to see it, to celebrate it with them.
And to end her own curse, too, of course. She needed to get back to her own life.
Ah, there was the fence. She squeezed between the two rails, then hurried across the overgrown field, holding one hand out to touch the tops of the high grass growing all around.
It tickled her gloveless palm, and she caught herself thinking the guys might be able to feel this sensation again tonight.
They couldn’t in their Now state because they were just bones under their gloves, and they wouldn’t likely in their Between state because the grass in the Between was…
subpar. Not dead, but not lively like this.
Her light picked out the crumbled corner where the church used to stand, and she turned to sit on it, then checked her phone.
11:47 PM. Not bad, but she’d hoped to be later.
She had to kill time now, and it was too dark to read the diary again.
Even with her phone’s light and a nearly full battery, the script was too flowy to decipher without good, strong, full light.
Sitting there quietly, she thought about the diary, about the head, about how amazing it was that the Horseman’s horse had somehow made it all the way from the battlefield to the Vinke estate at all, let alone with the head all but stapled to his saddle with shrapnel.
Then, her mind slipped a little to Chad’s strong arm holding her tight against him while they rode through the tumult of the crossing again to bring her back to the Now.
How she’d felt so secure, so safe, even as she’d felt the muscle turn to bone against her as they passed between moments.
Weird thing to think about right now, though.
Shaking her head, she looked at her phone.
11:52 PM. Ugh. She hated waiting. Jerome would have about a thousand snarky things to say about how much he hated waiting for anything.
Or he’d have a movie reference about it from some old Eighties movie she’d never heard of.
She grinned. She could definitely do with a laugh right about now.
Or a sweet comment from Aaron about how well she’d done to find the head’s actual hiding place when she’d gone into the Now with nothing more than an inkling about plat maps.
She couldn’t wait to kiss his pumpkin cheek and hear him be proud of her.
She didn’t get that from anyone but Tavia and her mom.
Her T.A. professor certainly didn’t bother doling out compliments. Nor did her bosses.
Sighing, she looked at her phone again. 11:58.
Nearly there. She just had to be patient for two more minutes.
Less than two minutes. She glanced up at the sky just as a wisp of cloud wafted over the moon, veiling it slightly.
That checked a box, too. Almost midnight.
She was alone. Cloud across the moon. She was foolhardy enough to be pining for the company of a bunch of undead headless guys who’d shanghai-ed her into the Between and halfway across the country.
Check, check, check, check.
In the distance, she saw a flicker, and her heartbeat kicked up. Was that--?
Another flicker, dancing in the dark. Not green. Not fireflies. Surely, it was—
Yes, it was! There was the third flicker, and she heard the laughter, deep but hollow, like skulls falling down an empty well, and she shot to her feet and ran toward them as the lights started weaving around each other. Horse hooves. She heard horse hooves pounding deep in the ground.
“I’m here!” she called into the night, turning on her phone’s flashlight and waving it crazily. “I’m here, guys! I came back, like I promised!”
The laughter turned into whoops and hollers, the weaving of the lights clarifying into delicate flames being tossed back and forth. Jack o’lantern heads, she knew, and she laughed breathlessly as she ran, waving her phone and doing little leaps in the tall grass.
“It worked!” she shouted. “It worked! You’re back! We’re back!”
One of the lights steadied itself and separated from the rest, and she knew one of the Horsemen rode swiftly toward her.
She stopped running, gasping for air, and held her phone up as high as she could like a beacon.
The horse came into sight, silvery moonlight lining him as he raced across the field toward her, the figure upon him still cloaked in shadow except for the fiery eyes and mouth of his jack o’lantern face.
The tattered cape flapped behind. The horse galloped, slowing only slightly as he neared.
A dark-clad arm reached down, and she braced herself, gripping her phone tightly.
Not stopping, the Horseman swept her up into the saddle across his lap and galloped on, turning a wide hairpin to rejoin the others, who’d stopped further back and now pawed and snorted steam into the night.
Her heart raced with excitement and… yes, and joy as she rejoined the Horsemen.
Their plan worked. They were together again, and she had the best news possible for them.
All was well. All would be well.
“Esmie!” Aaron cried, reaching over his saddle horn to clasp her knee with bony fingers. “We missed you. Are you alright? Did you find the plat maps?”
Chad—because of course it was Chad who had swept her up so securely—tutted. “Of course she did.”
“Boys, boys,” Jerome said, for once the voice of reason, “let the poor girl breathe. She just ran across a field.”
Still gasping, though more from excitement than from the run, she laughed breathlessly. “I’m fine, really. I’m just… it worked! I didn’t know how worried I was that it wouldn’t until it did.”
“Of course it did,” Aaron said. “You did everything right.”
“I dunno about that, but I do have the second best news in the world.”
“You found the house where the horse went after the battle?” Jerome asked, sounding impressed.
“Better.”
“You found the horse?” Aaron guessed.
“Better.”
Chad huffed. “You found the head?”
“Almost,” she said, turning to look at him. “I know where it is. And I can take you there, but only in the Between. I’d have it already if the place wasn’t a museum. They have security cameras around the property, inside and out.”
Jerome whistled, the sound eerie and echoey. “Esmie, never ever let me call you girl again. You are a straight up goddess.”
Blushing, she ducked her head. “I just followed the clues.”
“What clues?” Aaron asked, sounding both fascinated and impressed.
“Tell us on the way,” Chad said. “But first, let’s get you turned around the right way. I promise you’ll be more comfortable and definitely more secure during the crossing.”
Honestly, part of her rather liked sitting across Chad’s lap, but she didn’t protest. The crossing was vicious, and she definitely wanted to be as safe as possible during that mess.
So, she scooted and lifted when prompted, and with his help, she was soon facing forward astride the saddle, gripping the pommel and headed off into the night.
The wind kicked up.
The leaves and grass formed a tunnel.
The crossing began.