LOT'S MOUNTAIN

CHAPTER SIX: Moonlight and Naked People

The monster's hooves barely miss my face as I pitch myself forward. When I hit the ground, I get a mouthful of wet grass and old leaves, but the thing doesn't split my skull open. Its hoof slams into the ground, just to the left of my head. As I roll from it, I grab a fallen branch. Swinging as hard as I can, I crack it over the horse-thing. There's a sound like a bone breaking as the branch flies apart, splintering all around us in little powdery bits. Just once I'd like to find a baseball bat instead of a branch when a monster's after me.

The horse-thing then shakes its head as its lips peel back with another ear-shredding screech. Even though I jam my fingers into my ears, the sound drops me to my knees. Trying to scoot away from it, I feel something I don't expect. Water. A creek suddenly springs up all around me.

Like the blood in the dream, the water gets deeper. In the dream I can't do anything except claw at the walls of a grave. Now I'm sinking down, sliding into the ground. The chill stabs into my chest like an icicle. Soon, it'll be up to my neck, and then it'll be over my head ... and then ...

No.

NO.

NO!

In the dream I'm powerless. I just let myself drown in the wave of blood. Books always do that, talk about the coppery taste of blood. It's all metallic and thick, gagging down your throat. And salty. But not this ... this is water, and it's cold like a grave.

But I'm not powerless.

As I dig my fingers into the ground to keep myself from being swallowed by the water, my head starts to hurt. Not now. Please, not now. And it feels like I have hot coals in my stomach. The last thing I need is the losing-finding thing now. Come on ... Just have to focus ... have to fight it ... can't ...

POOF! The water disappears. Then there's a shimmer. Blinking the pain away, I see something by my foot — a large, flat rock. Was my losing-finding thing actually useful for once?

Maybe the Stone Men were right. These things are doing whatever they can to get me. Anyway, I snatch up the rock. Without me even touching it, the horse-thing suddenly stumbles and falls. I don't have time to think. I have to get this thing before it gets me.

Like it knows what I'm thinking, it whinnies soft and low this time, like a real horse. But I'm still looming over it, clutching that rock so hard my hands start shaking.

Then a voice behind me starts begging, "Don't hurt him, Dylan. Just ... just don't hurt him."

Um, WHAT?

"My friend only came after you because you scared him." There's a flicker of light, and this kid pops up near me. He's more of a white outline of a kid with little balls of orange light drifting around him. With how glowy and see-through he is, I'm guessing he must be a ghost.

I could be real subtle. I could be real smooth. Instead, I'm me. "Are you trying to kill me?"

The ghost-kid shakes his head but doesn't say anything else.

It's weird, but I kind of believe him. I've got a big ole target on my back out here, and all he's doing is staring at me, begging me not to hurt the horse what's-it. Taking a gamble, I toss the rock to the side.

How do you talk to a ghost when you're hiding in the woods, and your sort of best friend is waiting in a car? In movies people huddle around Ouija boards or gather around a table holding hands and weird shit like that. In t.v. shows, they always begin with the basics like what's your name?, how did you die? or do you know where you are?