Harsh Reality by Elle E Ire

Author:Elle E Ire [Ire, Elle E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal
ISBN: 978-1-64108-428-4
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2022-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

I RODE Ford out of town while the rest of Oblivion packed picnic lunches and planned Sunday outings. A pair of teenage boys tossed a ball back and forth. (At least they weren’t robbing the dang bank.) I overheard some women talking about a knitting circle and some men gathering fishing gear to take to the pond; I suppressed a pang of jealousy. All right, I didn’t knit, couldn’t even sew on a button, but I’d caught some whopper fish in that pond.

One in particular had always eluded me, a big old catfish, smart and wily. He broke line after line, stole lure after lure after I spent hours on the porch making them by hand. I made it my personal goal to catch that fish, even if I ended up releasing him out of respect afterward. But I never did snag him. And now, like every other living thing in my first lifetime, he was long dead.

A pall of sadness and loneliness fell heavily on my shoulders. Surrounded by people, I still rode through this life alone. Ghosts and shadows shrouded every individual. I couldn’t even consider forming new bonds with the folks I’d met. At the end of the week, we’d all go our separate ways.

I wondered where the hell I’d be going.

As if she could read my emotions (and I wasn’t entirely sure she couldn’t), Pandora winged out of the bright blue sky and landed on the pommel of my saddle, beak pointed straight ahead to face head-on whatever we found.

“Xanthis is going to miss you,” I warned her, grasping the reins in one hand so I could stroke her beautiful feathers with the other.

She turned her head to stare at me, then shook it from side to side.

“Okay, guess not.”

And I was talking to a bird. Again. Well, now I had an answer as to where I’d be going at the end of the week—the asylum looked more and more likely, especially if Doc happened to be looking out his office window while Pandora and I conversed.

Any other time, I’d love a mile ride in this kind of weather. The sun produced a pleasant heat without making me sweat. The spring flowers bloomed, their bright colors accenting the rough trail we followed, and the steady clip-clop of Ford’s hooves beat out a hypnotic rhythm, but knowing my destination filled me with dread.

At least this trip out, I’d armed myself. A quick run to the general store provided me with a pair of good sharp knives in two sizes and a belt sheath to carry one in, once I made up the explanation that I planned on doing some whittling. Woefully insufficient against Eye Killers but better than shooting paint. I’d hidden the second one in my desk drawer. Always good to have a spare stashed away.

Before me loomed the mining-camp-turned-tourist-attraction, and I slowed Ford’s pace further so that I might scan the area before riding into a potential trap. What I wouldn’t have given for a posse I could trust right about now.

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