The Realmwalker-Chapter Two

So if you haven't read scene 1, you might want to read that first. (See over there>>>>>) Please tell if this really gets you hooked...is it too cliche? Hopes you likes it preciouss.

                Six hours later Sheriff Hollister was heading home along the long, deserted highway which would eventually lead him home. He shoved the stick shift forward and the pitch of the engine dropped to a dull growl as the old Chevy hit fourth gear. It was a long drive, as always. The tiny lights from behind the steering wheel glared at him obnoxiously, and he squinted against the irritating glare. He yawned and stretched, leaning back against the seat and blinking to try and relieve his tired eyes.  Sheriff Hollister reached over switched on the radio. The slow twangs of old country music played muted in the static. Outside stretched the New Mexican night, a wide canvas spreading endlessly in all directions. The Sheriff couldn’t see the black, mammothan outlines of the north bluffs on the horizon tonight, for there was no moon. Only the distant stars served as his guides in the darkness, but they were dim and few. It felt strangely claustrophobic sitting there in the cramped and noisy cab while all around him the bare openness lay cold, and silent, and still.

                A short ways later and he had reached the dry creek bed that separated the paved section of the road from the dirt. He was about five minutes outside of town, and there was an old cattleguard here. The Sheriff shifted to a growling second gear as he headed down into the dip. The truck rattled jarringly as he bounced over it. He managed to make it back up the incline leading up from the creekbed without cutting the engine out,  but it seemed to him as though he was making slower progress.

                The truck’s dust covered headlights shone out in front on the dirt road. Ghostly shapes of sage and rock on the side of the road were illuminated in the white light. It was just about when he had hit 40mpg when he spotted something far up the road to the left. It was a glowing green pair of some animal’s eyes. At first he thought it was a coyote or a deer, but as he got closer he realized it was larger. He finally made out the shadowy figure of a horse.

                “That’s strange.” he murmured to himself. The Montoya’s never kept cattle on this section of land at this time of year, and at any rate they had cows, not horses. The Sheriff slowed down. The horse turned suddenly as he approached, and then galloped off. He couldn’t be sure but he thought that there had been someone riding it. He shook his head. “Now I know for sure that these late nights aren’t for me.” he said to himself. He turned back to the road and had just began to accelerate when a sudden movement caught his full attention. A figure had darted out into the road in front of him. He jumped, slamming on the brakes on an impulse. The figure stopped for a split second, caught in the beam of the headlights with wide eyes. It was a teen boy. He stared at the oncoming truck with an expression of bewilderment which turned instantly to desperate shock, and the Sheriff dreaded the moment of impact. But it never came. The boy moved faster than what seemed possible. He darted across the road, diving out of the way at the last second.  The truck finally came to a stop. The Sheriff’s hands were stiff on the steering wheel with white knuckles. He took in a shaky breath and grabbed his flashlight. His legs still felt weak once he piled out of the truck. Sheriff Hollister had once hit a deer on this road, and he didn’t wish to repeat that experience. But the near collision with a human had nearly been too much to take. His throat felt dry. He was almost sure that he had missed the boy with the narrowest of margins, but he had to be sure. He had to make certain.

                Sheriff Hollister ran around to the other side of the truck. He shone the light around frantically, searching the road and the side bank of the road for any sign of the boy; or injury.

                “Hello?” He called out. “Hey kid, where are you?” there was no answer. “Hey! Are you alright?” he asked. “Are you hurt?” He paused and listened. The only reply was the clicking of the engine as it cooled in the night air. The Sheriff too felt the chill. He went back along the road, calling out and walking along the edge. He reached the section where he saw the boy dive off the road and climbed up the short embankment. He left the familiarity of the road and stepped over the low remains of a barbed wire fence. He stabbed at the dark field with the beam of his flashlight. Small trails led in among the sage, made by rabbits and a few by deer. The Sheriff followed one of these to a small patch of grass.

                “Hey kid! Where are you?” He yelled. There was a rustling in the grass beside him. The Sheriff breathed a sigh of relief. He had found him.

                The boy was crouched down in the grass, and stared up at the Sheriff as he approached.  He didn’t appear to be injured, but as Sheriff Hollister reached him he saw that he was clutching his ankle.

                “I didn’t see you until I was almost on top of you.” he said. “I tried to stop. Did I hit you?” The boy shook his head. He was still tense, and his nervousness showed in his face. The Sheriff came closer. The boy stood up suddenly. He winced as he set his left foot down. “Is your foot broke?” the Sheriff asked. Again the boy shook his head. The Sheriff seemed a little doubtful, but the boy seemed to be able to put weight on it. He was pretty sure that he hadn‘t seen the kid before; and he knew all the kids around town. He still felt responsible for the boy’s safety. “I’m Wayne Hollister, I’m the local sheriff.” he said. He had a dozen questions running through his mind, but what he was most concerned about right now was making sure the boy was alright. “I can take you back into town, you should get that foot up.” The boy backed away tentatively. He seemed uneasy and distrustful, the Sheriff wondered why he was avoiding him.

                “What’s your name?” he asked in a friendly manner, trying to put the boy at ease. But this question made him back away. The Sheriff began to grow suspicious.

                “Are you out here with anyone else?” he asked. The boy stared at him at this. He nodded reluctantly. “Where are they?” Sheriff Hollister asked. The boy looked away however, suddenly alert. Then the Sheriff heard it too. Muted, heavy hoof beats. The horse? He wondered to himself. They grew nearer. Without warning the boy sprang at him. The Sheriff was caught off guard by the unexpected action. But the boy wasn’t going for him,  he instead lunged for the flashlight. He grabbed it and stumbled off. The Sheriff tried to stop him, but he moved surprisingly fast. And then, the light went out, stranding him in utter darkness.

                “Hey!” he yelled. Some huge form sprinted through the dark. Sheriff Hollister heard it coming nearer. Then it was upon him. The power and speed sent tremors through the earth like a freight train. He felt it rush past him, and for some reason, couldn’t move. There was a knot in the pit of his gut, and some primal fear clawed at the back of his mind. He knew then that the dark horse had an even darker rider, for it turned and looked at him for the briefest of moments. The Sheriff thought he heard some screaming cry, but it couldn’t possibly have been, for it was only a split second and the horse galloped past him, heading in the direction that the boy had taken. At first he didn’t know what to do, but soon he realized that there was nothing he could do. He stood there for a moment, feeling helpless in the open field. For some reason the night had gone completely silent. The more he thought about it, the more he came to believe that he had simply imagined the horse and rider. But the boy had been too real. He wondered what he had been doing out here all alone. At any rate however, the boy was gone. Sheriff Hollister hoped he was alright. After a while he turned to go back to the truck. But just as he was about to leave he heard the scream of a horse in the blackness.