Dagger's Point

Chapter Twenty-Three

I don't know how much time has passed when I pull into Nimrod's parking lot, the small bar dingy and just outside of town. It's the perfect place to murder someone, but I try not to think of it as I catch sight of a very impatient looking Simon, leaning up against a large truck. The older man doesn't look good, seeming to have aged years since the last time I saw him, his eyes framed with black circles. He looks more frail as well, as if his bones have vanished, leaving his wrinkly skin behind to be ravaged by daily life.

He taps on my window, frowning at me through it as I fumble for the switch. Then there is the quiet hum as it rolls down, bringing me even closer to Simon. I don't know if I can look at him any longer, a certain feeling of defeat sitting heavy in my chest. It feels as if I have disappointed him, that the safekeeping of Dagger was in my hands, and I completely botched it. My eyes can't meet his as they dance off around the empty parking lot, and then towards the building, a small neon sign blinking in a dark window.

"Follow me in your truck."

I don't like the secrecy, it feels moreso now that he is leading me to my death, a type of payment for bringing about Dagger's. It stings, and I know that I shouldn't do it, but I do, following behind him in my truck. For his age he drives like a demon, racing around corners too fast and merely pausing for stop signs. I find it hard to keep up with him without breaking every basic traffic law out there. Somehow, I manage, my hands firm on the steering wheel and foot hard on the accelerator, I don't want to get left behind, even if he's simply going to kill me.

We take a few turns, and the suddenly he's slowing and turning his truck into a driveway, everything hidden by shrubs and ancient trees. It's the type of privacy wall that someone who has something to hide would use, especially in this desolate area. There is nothing nearby, besides trees and the narrow road. Taking a deep breath I go after him, not expecting much, if anything he is taking me to his house where he can slit my throat and hide me in the woods for all the animal to eat.

But, as I drive I seem to remember something he said so long ago about Dagger and himself, he had been a horse breeder. That's when I see the barn, it's ancient, in the actual sense, far from the faux, old look that Oxford conjures up. It looks like a cow barn in a way, tall and with a hay mow. The paint has faded away, leaving behind grey boards, but it seems to be in decent shape, even though weeds grow up around it's edges. I can see the edge of a fence in the distance, the wire sagging from lack of care, and t-posts that are not covered with anything, their rusty tops looking extra dull.

I want to know why I am here, if it is not for Simon to kill me. I can't think of any other reason though, everything else could easily have been done in public at a coffee shop. There is something in me that propels me out of my truck, ignoring the more reasonable part of me that wills me to drive away and never look back. Simon waits for me, still frowning, though he seems a bit more at ease here, where there is no one around.

I am definitely dead.

He doesn't say anything as I approach him, trying to avoid the weeds that reach out for me, trying to snag my pants. I don't say anything either, before he lets out a breath and moves to the barn, and I follow him. There is no other option, besides leaving, and I am not going to leave. We trample through tall grass and more weeds, a path having been worn through it, but the path is still fresh enough that the vegetation has yet to be trampled enough to make too much of a difference.

Everything smells like old musty hay, as we enter the barn, it's dark, and cool interior instantly wrapping me up. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but when they do it look unused, with cobwebs everywhere, and empty stalls glaring at us, with their doors hanging open, waiting for a horse to fill it again. We keep walking, past the stalls and the entrance to the hay mow, until we come out the other end, grass freshly trampled here as well. Here I can see the fence a bit better, as well as a sagging, and extremely rusty gate that closes in the sagging wire fence.

The grass there is trampled as well, more around the fence, as well as small trails that lead through the overgrown pasture.

I can't see all of it, as it extends out of view. But the way that Simon looks out over it, as if searching for something I do as well, straining my eyes. Then he lets out a whistle, loud and low, it rings in my ears. Then, there is movement, a sudden burst of it coming from out of view, and the unmistakable sound of hoofbeats, thundering towards us. My breath catches in my throat, whole body tense. There shouldn't be any horses here, even though the path's through the pasture point to one. I don't why it would be so important that he drags me out here to see it though. I thought this whole meeting was for the purpose of discussing Dagger's demise and how it is all my fault, not me simply meeting another horse that I can't care less about.

Then my breath catches in my throat as the horse comes into view.