Author's note: this chapter is dedicated to Ben. Who was good enough to
read "the fifth horseman" by Gregg Gonzales.
A week passed and school started. Becca introduced me to her best guy friend, Thomas Smithers. He was like a total Chemistry buff.
The three of us met at the headless horseman café after school. Sightings of the midnight marauder persisted. The police claimed that it was the work of over active imaginations and local pranksters. But Becca, Tom, and I had our suspicions. The chances of it being local pranksters were pretty slim. All of the sightings had taken place on the west side of town not far from the old cemetery. Strange really.
"Downright creepy is more like it!" I said looking back and forth between Becca and Tom. Tom gave me a severe look. "Stop exaggerating. These sightings are probably nothing more than an elaborate hoax. Probably a group of junior high kids." I frowned across the table at him. Nothing should be left unconsidered in my opinion. It sounded stupid even to me but having a gut feeling when you have strived many years to keep an open mind seemed to overrule dear Tommy's micro chip brain. Becca cleared her throat and Tom and I ceased our battle of wills. "You both have good points. Tom's right about not jumping to conclusions, Charlotte, but we do need to keep our options open." She explained diplomatically. I leaned back in the booth and nodded my head. "Yes. You're right Becca as usual." Tom expressed his agreement. I stared out of the café window and watched as the street lamps glowed to life. They splashed the pavement with orange like tint. It vaguely reminded me of Mardi Gras.
An hour and two Pepsis later we all said our goodbyes. Becca had Tom walk her home since they lived on the same block. It was four streets over from city hall in the middle of a kind of suburban area of town. I, however, was not as fortunate. My way home was completely opposite theirs and the quickest way, Becca had shown me a few days before, just happen to run by the old Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. I slowly made my way up the street and turned onto yet another small highway that went through town. The road curved sharply at this point and broad sided the cemetery. Its walls were out of gray granite most likely set up during the late 1700's. Patches of green moss grew at intervals adding to the wall's character. The old Dutch church sat on a kind of hill top white and pure as if it were one of Heaven's angels guarding the dead like a shepherd guards his flock. The wind sighed suddenly in the large oaks just beyond the wall. It made me shiver in spite of myself. Still it shook me out of my reverie and I became more alert. It was a warm night but I couldn't get rid of the cold hard feeling in my stomach. I was nearing the main gate now just twenty or so feet away. A slight breeze blew down the street from the Hudson, which was about a mile and a half ahead and to the left. The sweet scent of the river made me smile. Suddenly the Cemetery's wrought iron gates burst open with a thunderous crash. I'll admit I nearly fainted. Nothing came through them. They just swung on their hinges from the force of opening like that. I stood stock still and contemplated my next move. I could run or scream or scream while running. Then again Nanny raised no cowards. I cracked my knuckles and swung my self up and over the five foot wall. I landed with a soft thud and quickly got my bearings. I decided to stay off of the gravel paths seeing as that one could hear you clear across the cemetery with all of that crunching and grinding. There was a bit of a moon out now and I could see nearly as good as I usually do in normal lighting. Sneaking from tree to tree I made it up to the grounds around the Dutch church. I had seen nothing stir and heard nothing apart from normal night time noises. Still something didn't feel quite right about this cemetery. I slowly stood from my crouched position behind a head stone. I was on the side of the hill behind the church and I looked about at the graves below and beside me. The moon was really out now and it threw into sharp relief my shadow and those of the graves surrounding me. I turned to study my shadow and a flash of light caught my eye in the trees further down and behind the church. I hit the ground on instinct and the crack of a pistol disturbed the quiet night. Something sparked as it ricocheted off a stone marker not far from where I had been standing. I quickly turned to look at the spot where I had seen the flash. A person on horseback calmly walked out of the shadows pistol in the air. The person most defiantly a man was gigantic as was his steed. His pistol was especially wicked looking being a combination of short sword and flintlock. The horseman cocked his gun and readied for another shot. I scrambled up and behind a large monolith and as I peeked around it I wondered what Tom and Becca would make of this. There was another flash and a loud crack as the caped creep fired again. This time he chipped the marble directly above my head causing some bits to get in my hair. I took advantage of my adrenaline rush and sprinted as fast as I could around head stones and flower vases. I heard the horse give a shrieking cry and the sound of hoof beats and I knew I was in serious trouble. I started taking headstones hurdle style and was suddenly thankful I had worn my cotton shorts. My pursuer was gaining I could hear and practically feel the horses breath on my back. I was almost to the spot where I had jumped over the wall earlier. Getting a ridiculous idea I crouched down and stopped short. The horse, avoiding the obstacle, leapt over me. As rider reined in his mount I ran like the dickens. With my new strategy I zigzagged between the burial plots going further into the cemetery. I dared not look over my shoulder for I could track his progress by ear. I made my way up a knoll covered in mausoleums made of granite and marble. The horseman was getting fed up with chasing me. The silence was deafening both horse and rider had stopped. I doubled back behind a mausoleum only to run head on into the man. He sat huge and frightening atop his demon horse. His cape billowed in the wind and I took in the faded green of his outfit, but what I concentrated most on was the fact that he had no head. Just an empty collar. He wasn't but six feet away so there was no mistaking him for some suited up, pimple faced, thrill seeker. He drew his sword and we sized each other up. There was no way I was going to be able to out run him and he had was much taller and had more weapons than I did. Oh, and he was supposedly dead and therefore indestructible. Once again common sense eluded me. I cleared my throat stood strait and marched defiantly down the hill towards the main gate. The Horseman was thoroughly confused by this new tactic. Apparently he had never seen a very tired and angry southerner. He allowed me to get two thirds of the way to the gate before charging after me, sword gone but at full throttle. I don't know what possessed me but I didn't run, didn't flinch, or even scream as the Horseman swooped up behind, grabbed me about the waist, and lifted me up onto the saddle. The last I remembered, before I passed out, was how fast I was going on that godforsaken horse.
A week passed and school started. Becca introduced me to her best guy friend, Thomas Smithers. He was like a total Chemistry buff.
The three of us met at the headless horseman café after school. Sightings of the midnight marauder persisted. The police claimed that it was the work of over active imaginations and local pranksters. But Becca, Tom, and I had our suspicions. The chances of it being local pranksters were pretty slim. All of the sightings had taken place on the west side of town not far from the old cemetery. Strange really.
"Downright creepy is more like it!" I said looking back and forth between Becca and Tom. Tom gave me a severe look. "Stop exaggerating. These sightings are probably nothing more than an elaborate hoax. Probably a group of junior high kids." I frowned across the table at him. Nothing should be left unconsidered in my opinion. It sounded stupid even to me but having a gut feeling when you have strived many years to keep an open mind seemed to overrule dear Tommy's micro chip brain. Becca cleared her throat and Tom and I ceased our battle of wills. "You both have good points. Tom's right about not jumping to conclusions, Charlotte, but we do need to keep our options open." She explained diplomatically. I leaned back in the booth and nodded my head. "Yes. You're right Becca as usual." Tom expressed his agreement. I stared out of the café window and watched as the street lamps glowed to life. They splashed the pavement with orange like tint. It vaguely reminded me of Mardi Gras.
An hour and two Pepsis later we all said our goodbyes. Becca had Tom walk her home since they lived on the same block. It was four streets over from city hall in the middle of a kind of suburban area of town. I, however, was not as fortunate. My way home was completely opposite theirs and the quickest way, Becca had shown me a few days before, just happen to run by the old Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. I slowly made my way up the street and turned onto yet another small highway that went through town. The road curved sharply at this point and broad sided the cemetery. Its walls were out of gray granite most likely set up during the late 1700's. Patches of green moss grew at intervals adding to the wall's character. The old Dutch church sat on a kind of hill top white and pure as if it were one of Heaven's angels guarding the dead like a shepherd guards his flock. The wind sighed suddenly in the large oaks just beyond the wall. It made me shiver in spite of myself. Still it shook me out of my reverie and I became more alert. It was a warm night but I couldn't get rid of the cold hard feeling in my stomach. I was nearing the main gate now just twenty or so feet away. A slight breeze blew down the street from the Hudson, which was about a mile and a half ahead and to the left. The sweet scent of the river made me smile. Suddenly the Cemetery's wrought iron gates burst open with a thunderous crash. I'll admit I nearly fainted. Nothing came through them. They just swung on their hinges from the force of opening like that. I stood stock still and contemplated my next move. I could run or scream or scream while running. Then again Nanny raised no cowards. I cracked my knuckles and swung my self up and over the five foot wall. I landed with a soft thud and quickly got my bearings. I decided to stay off of the gravel paths seeing as that one could hear you clear across the cemetery with all of that crunching and grinding. There was a bit of a moon out now and I could see nearly as good as I usually do in normal lighting. Sneaking from tree to tree I made it up to the grounds around the Dutch church. I had seen nothing stir and heard nothing apart from normal night time noises. Still something didn't feel quite right about this cemetery. I slowly stood from my crouched position behind a head stone. I was on the side of the hill behind the church and I looked about at the graves below and beside me. The moon was really out now and it threw into sharp relief my shadow and those of the graves surrounding me. I turned to study my shadow and a flash of light caught my eye in the trees further down and behind the church. I hit the ground on instinct and the crack of a pistol disturbed the quiet night. Something sparked as it ricocheted off a stone marker not far from where I had been standing. I quickly turned to look at the spot where I had seen the flash. A person on horseback calmly walked out of the shadows pistol in the air. The person most defiantly a man was gigantic as was his steed. His pistol was especially wicked looking being a combination of short sword and flintlock. The horseman cocked his gun and readied for another shot. I scrambled up and behind a large monolith and as I peeked around it I wondered what Tom and Becca would make of this. There was another flash and a loud crack as the caped creep fired again. This time he chipped the marble directly above my head causing some bits to get in my hair. I took advantage of my adrenaline rush and sprinted as fast as I could around head stones and flower vases. I heard the horse give a shrieking cry and the sound of hoof beats and I knew I was in serious trouble. I started taking headstones hurdle style and was suddenly thankful I had worn my cotton shorts. My pursuer was gaining I could hear and practically feel the horses breath on my back. I was almost to the spot where I had jumped over the wall earlier. Getting a ridiculous idea I crouched down and stopped short. The horse, avoiding the obstacle, leapt over me. As rider reined in his mount I ran like the dickens. With my new strategy I zigzagged between the burial plots going further into the cemetery. I dared not look over my shoulder for I could track his progress by ear. I made my way up a knoll covered in mausoleums made of granite and marble. The horseman was getting fed up with chasing me. The silence was deafening both horse and rider had stopped. I doubled back behind a mausoleum only to run head on into the man. He sat huge and frightening atop his demon horse. His cape billowed in the wind and I took in the faded green of his outfit, but what I concentrated most on was the fact that he had no head. Just an empty collar. He wasn't but six feet away so there was no mistaking him for some suited up, pimple faced, thrill seeker. He drew his sword and we sized each other up. There was no way I was going to be able to out run him and he had was much taller and had more weapons than I did. Oh, and he was supposedly dead and therefore indestructible. Once again common sense eluded me. I cleared my throat stood strait and marched defiantly down the hill towards the main gate. The Horseman was thoroughly confused by this new tactic. Apparently he had never seen a very tired and angry southerner. He allowed me to get two thirds of the way to the gate before charging after me, sword gone but at full throttle. I don't know what possessed me but I didn't run, didn't flinch, or even scream as the Horseman swooped up behind, grabbed me about the waist, and lifted me up onto the saddle. The last I remembered, before I passed out, was how fast I was going on that godforsaken horse.