The Haunted Horse

The following story is a stand-alone, but it features characters who first appeared in "The Figure Under a Blanket." You do not need to read that story in order to understand this one, but you might enjoy it.

"Well, would you look at that," Marie said, carefully dismantling a trip-wire in the supposed-cult's liar. "Even more things on Earth that defy my philosophy, right?"

Jean Paul ignored her, standing slightly apart from us while we packed up the various traps and rubber-masks. Some locals in Rosebud, New Hampshire had contacted us in the hopes that we'd be able to uncover the cause of several supernatural events in the area. Upon arrival, Jean Paul had insisted that the town held a "malignant aura," and he'd chided Marie for her skepticism. Donna and Larry tried to keep them apart, but we all worked in close quarters. After a few long nights of investigation, we'd uncovered that it was all just an elaborate hoax meant as part of a real estate scheme.

"Call me Horatio," Marie said. "Say the line."

Jean Paul finally turned his chilly expression towards her. "What do you want me to say? Hm?"

Donna tried to interject. "Guys--"

"No, really." Jean Paul's cheeks were uncharacteristically pink. "I want to hear what Marie has to say."

I don't think it would have been such a problem if it were just the cult-hoax. However, this was coming after a Bigfoot-hoax, an alien-abduction-hoax, and a reincarnated-royal hoax. After each hoax was revealed, Marie gloated and Jean Paul drew deeper into an introspective contemplation.

Marie crossed her arms. We'd all been working through the night to stump the faux-cult, but unlike the rest of us she seemed as perky as ever. "I want you to admit that we're basically hoax-busters."

"And the supernatural?"

She waved a hand dismissively.

"And just how does your philosophy justify little Bick? Hm?" Jean Paul pointed to our talking, possibly-demon-possessed cat.

Bick looked between the two of them with a smirk. In an exaggerated tone, the cat said, "Oh, please, don't bring me into this. You know I hate it when you dears fight."

Donna turned an exhausted expression in my direction. "Felicia, the cat is your problem."

"Yes, Felicia, I am your problem, please--"

I snatched up Bick and tossed him into his carrier. I could tell that he was in a good mood because he didn't even try to claw my arm open.

Marie rolled her eyes.

"Your dismissive attitude does us no good." Jean Paul turned to leave.

Speaking to his back, Marie said, "And your paranoia doesn't help a whole bunch either."

The ride back to Kansas was unusually quiet. Donna and Larry kept to themselves, and Bick only spoke to try to antagonise Marie and Jean Paul even further. I tried to keep him under control, but herding cats is an idiom for a reason. We all needed a break from each other. Luckily, just such a break was on the horizon. Donna and Larry were headed off to an MMA tournament where Donna would be competing, and Jean Paul was summoned to a religious conference, leaving just Marie, Bick, and me at the house.

Marie spent her time in the living room, working through a backlog of scientific magazines and journals. I couldn't understand most of the titles of the essays that she read like Readers Digest, but without Jean Paul around at least she wasn't actively being a nuisance. Even Bick was content hunting mice.

I thought we'd just take the week off. I was thinking about making some mistakes with an ex-boyfriend when the phone rang in the living room. Marie picked it up before I even got into the room, so I waited at the threshold watching her respond to the conversation. She waved me over and held the phone so we could both hear the conversation.

The voice wasn't clear, but I thought I followed the gist of the conversation. "I've heard you're the people to contact about a haunted house."

Marie looked at me while she spoke. "I doubt that your house is actually haunted."

"Well, you're the expert, but I'd still appreciate it if you had a look. I can pay too."

Marie asked me a question with her eyebrows, and I shrugged. Our policy was to help wherever we could, but with half the team gone I would be just as happy to hang out around the house and recharge.

"Is it urgent?" Marie asked.

"Yup." Considering how nonplussed he sounded, I imagined that it couldn't be that urgent.

"One moment."

Marie set the phone down. "What is it?" she asked me.

"It's a haunting," I said, "and Jean Paul isn't here."

She frowned. "He's a confused man who needs our help."

"You don't know that."

"He says it's urgent. What if something happens?"

I frowned at her. We both knew that it wasn't about that. She might have been willing to hear reason if I hadn't brought up Jean Paul or if she and Jean Paul hadn't been sniping at each other for weeks. As it was, her mind was set in stone.

A cool feeling ran down my spine. Bick was watching us from the doorway, a smirk on his little cat face. "This should be fun."

Marie picked up her phone. "Tell us where you are and we'll be on the road in an hour."

We arrived in a small town just to the east of Colorado Springs about ten hours later, long after sunset. Our destination wasn't in the town itself, but an acreage on the town's outskirts. Marie checked her phone's navigation app to make sure we had the right place then nodded at me. "We're here."

Okay, I know it's wrong to judge a book by its cover, but the house we parked in front of looked more haunted than any house we'd ever needed to go to before. It looked like a set from a horror movie. If a woman in a Victorian dress had drifted past one of the upper windows with a candle, I wouldn't have batted an eye. I made two immediate decisions:

1. I would not be drinking any water from their well, since undoubtedly someone had been drowned in it at some point.
2. I would not be losing sight of Marie or Bick until we got the hell out of here.

Bick stretched as he popped out of the car's back seat. "It's so homey, isn't it?"

The house's owner waddled down the step to meet us. He had an exceptionally round head, and he wore his beard at the same fuzzy length as his hair. His expression was blank.

"Y'all the ghost hunters?"

"Something like that," Marie said. "I believe we spoke on the phone."

"Jeff Jeffries," he said, offering us his thick hand. "I know how it sounds. My folks were some real characters. C'mon along, this way."

"Don't you want us to investigate the house?"

"Huh?"

"You said your house was haunted."

I glanced up at the haunted-ass house, fully expecting to see ethereal light oozing from between the building's ill-fitted boards.

"No, my house is fine," Jeff said, his tone as blank as his expression. "It's the horse that's the problem. I've got a haunted horse."

A short walk brought us to a fenced-in pasture with a small structure full of hay. Three horses crouched together in a group near the structure, and their nervous winnies filled the night air. Bick leaned his mouth in close to my ear. "Those horses are perfectly normal."

Jeff glanced at Bick and me. "Got yourself a talking cat?"

I nodded. Marie pretended not to hear.

"I knew I'd called the right folks. He possessed?"

"We're not sure." I looked Bick in the eye. "Are you possessed?"

Bick shrugged and licked the back of his paw.

"Right," Jeff said. "Well, the kitty's right. Ain't nothing wrong with those three horses. It's Summer Thunder that's giving me trouble."

"Summer Thunder?" Marie prompted.

The man whistled, then waited. Long seconds passed without anything happening. And then hoof-beats echoed through the dark night. Something emerged in from the shadows at the far end of the pasture. A massive stallion, several hands taller than any of the other horses in the enclosure, pounded towards us. His eyes flashed with a light of their own, and his snorting was loud enough to be heard from a hundred yards away.

"That's the one. If you could fix him up for me, that'd be swell." With that, Jeff returned to his house.

Marie looked at me, then looked out over the pasture. "I'm sure it's..."

I could swear that I saw flames flickering in Summer Thunder's eyes as he reared up on his back legs and then stomped the ground hard. The whole planet seemed to be shaken out of its orbit from that impact, and my stomach dropped.

"I just wanted to make mistakes with my ex," I said.

"What?" Bick asked.

"What?" Marie asked.

I flushed and swallowed. "Nothing."

Summer Thunder disappeared when we tried to climb into pasture, and we spent the rest of the night searching for him. Bick circled the entire area and then told me, "I believe he's gone."

"Is he possessed?"

Bick blinked.

"Bick?"

Bick gave me a look that said, Remember your place in our hierarchy, Felicia. I am a cat, and a cat has no master.

At dawn we returned to the house to tell Jeff what happened. He was just making coffee when we entered into his kitchen. The inside was as dilapidated as the exterior, but Jeff didn't seem to mind. "Yeah, he'll do that, he will. But we ain't seen the last of him."

"What happened with this horse?" Marie asked.

"He's the fastest bugger you'll ever see. A real prize of a horse, that one. King of all animals far as I'm concerned."

"Yes? But the haunting?"

"Won so many ribbons you could turn 'em into a quilt and dress him in them."

"However..."

He slurped down a mouthful of coffee. "Three different riders have died on his back. Now, the last two--they were mean buggers far as I can tell, so it don't really break my heart. You'll have to forgive me on that. I'm not what you'd call a people person, I'm afraid. Still, when I got him, I saw something was wrong with him, and I haven't been stupid enough to climb on his back and become rider number four to kick the bucket. Something ain't right about him. He doesn't hurt them, of course. Not physically. If he did that, we'd put him down like any feral animal. The riders just... die. Heart-attacks or strokes or something."

I looked at Marie. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Interesting."

"Well, now I need to meet this fellow," Bick said.

"You didn't sound so brave in the dark," I pointed out.

"Felicia..." he warned.

"Won't see him again today, I imagine. But come back after dark, and he'll be out there, and those other horses will be pissing where they stand."

We agreed to get some rest and to return after dark. Donna and Larry called as we were driving down to the nearest hotel, but Marie refused to give them any details about what we were up to. The first hotel told us they didn't accept pets, and none of us had the energy to quibble about exactly whether or not Bick qualified as a pet, so we moved on until we found a motel that didn't give a damn about a cat in their rooms.

Finally, we slept.

At dusk, Marie was practically buzzing with enthusiasm about the project. Bick, however, had decided to stop talking all together. This wasn't the first time he's done this to us. Bick can talk, but Bick is still a cat, and a cat is not exactly a helpmate.

"This has to be a hoax," Marie said as we drove back to the haunted horse.

"Why?"

"He claims this horse is some kind of grand champion, but look at the state of his house. He clearly isn't rolling in money, so having a haunted horse to attract tourists would make sense."

As soon as we opened the car door, Bick jumped out and ran off into the underbrush. I didn't bother shouting after him. If he wanted to go, he was going to go.

Marie led the way to the paddock, skipping the Jeff's house all together. The haunted horse waited just beyond the fence, stomping and rearing like a rodeo performer.

"One wonders what he's done to this thing to get a response like that."

She climbed over the paddock fence, and I expected the massive horse to disappear like he had the night before. Instead, he froze as solid as a statue.

"See that? There must have been a whistle or something. A signal to make him split. Get over here, I need your help."

"I'd rather not," I said.

"Felicia..."

I have a soft spot for animals. I admit it. That's why I'm stuck playing the part of Bick's handler, even though Bick enjoys every opportunity to be a jerk. So thinking about how this animal might be tormented in order to provoke a particular response softened my heart. I climbed over the fence.

That was a mistake.

Summer Thunder started towards us, picking up speed as he went. And there was no illusion about his eyes. They were flickering with unholy fire.

"Marie--"

"Let's not--"

It was getting closer. I ran to the fence even though I realised how pointless that would be. This monster could easily jump the fence. Still, he was coming for us, and the whole earth seemed to tremble under his hoofs, so I ran, trailing a thin little scream. I scrambled over the fence, and when I looked back I fully expected to see Marie trying some face-off with Summer Thunder.

Instead, she was scrambling alongside me. "Go!"

I ran for the trees that surrounded the property, ignoring the path. I didn't have time to try to find it. Marie grabbed my hand, so at least I had something to hold onto, but those terrible hoofbeats seemed to be right on our back. We ran until our legs burned. We ran until I lost balance and stumbled into a gully. Even so, the hoofbeats were there, pounding nearby.

Marie clamped her hand over my mouth. "Still. Shhhhshhhh."

The hoofbeats circled. I knew that creature--whatever the hell-fiend really was--was searching for us.

"You know," Bick said from the branches of a tree nearby. A few feathers clung to his fur, and he was cleaning something from one of his paws. "This is hardly your most successful adventure."

Marie shot daggers at him with her eyes, but he didn't notice.

The hoofbeats drew closer.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you need an exorcist. But then, why ask the cat? Hm?" His tail swished back and forth.

I yanked Marie's hand from my mouth. "I did ask--"

He tutted, and I swear he was doing it loudly enough to deliberately draw the horse to us. "Not you, Felicia. Our little posse has always been more than just you. That's your problem. You think you can do it all on your own. I'm talking to Marie. Why wouldn't you ask me? Didn't your rational mind realise that the talking cat might have valuable insights?"

Marie didn't respond.

Bick's eyes glowed, and not in the natural cat way. It was enough to be a reminder that we didn't really understand that creature. Bick was a cat, but he wasn't just a cat, and that other component--whatever it was--was still a mystery to us.

"So, Marie. Are you ready to talk through your problems?"

Marie looked at me, then at Bick. The hoofbeats sounded closer than ever. She stared into my eyes, and with a deep sigh pulled a crucifix from one of her jacket pockets. "It can't hurt, right?"

"Where did you--"

"Jean Paul, obviously. It's a long story."

I raised my eyebrows at her. It was dark, but not dark enough to hide her blush.

Marie stood up, and there was the horse.

They stared at each other. The horse pawed at the dirt, and Marie trembled. Bick went back to cleaning his paws, and I found that I couldn't move. If the horse twitched in Marie's direction, I would go off like a jack-in-the-box, but it felt like anything I did might cause the animal to start, and that wouldn't end well for us.

"H-hello?"

The horse stopped pawing, staring at Marie.

"What are you?"

The horse's eyes flashed. And then a rider appeared on the horse's back, constructed out of the same flames as illuminated the horse's eyes. "I'm the rider, and this is my horse."

"I... I can see that."

Bick nudged my elbow with his nose. I hadn't noticed him leave his tree. Close to my ear, he whispered, "We should go."

"But--"

"Do you trust me, Felicia?"

I stared into the cat's slit eyes, then nodded. We slipped away and returned to the house. There we waited.

Two hours later, Marie returned the horse to the paddock. It looked as docile as a lamb, but Marie looked shaken. Bick chuckled.

"What?"

"I think our skeptic friend spends a little more time with our exorcist than anyone else knew. Just the two of them, wouldn't you know it."

"Oh."

Marie assured the horse's owner that he didn't need to worry about any more riders dying, and then she refused to accept his money. He wouldn't let us leave without paying for gas and the motel room.

Back in the car, Marie told me about how the horse's original owner had loved him too much to let him go, and he'd attached his spirit to the horse when the riders who inherited Summer Thunder treated him badly. She convinced the ghost to let Jeff have a chance. That broke the supernatural bond, and the ghost was gone.

"So, you do believe in the supernatural now?"

Marie looked offended. "Of course I do. I always have. After everything we've seen?"

I started to protest. "But then--"

"But someone needs to balance out Jean Paul."

From the back seat, Bick muttered, "Is that what you call it..."

"We all have a role to play," Marie said. "And perhaps I've taken it a little far lately. And perhaps Jean Paul has taken it a little far lately too. We will..." She looked into the rear view mirror, for once making eye-contact with Bick. "We will talk through our problems."

"Is that what you call it," Bick muttered again.

Bick and Co. will return.