Read Marysvale for Free Online

broke out.
    Martin yelled, “Stop him! Stop him!
He’s trying to escape!”
    His statement wasn’t entirely
true—escape wasn’t my only motive.
    Most of the men ignored him and were
more interested in getting out of the way of a half-ton horse and
rider bearing down on them. Some scrambled for cover; others dove
for safety. Governor Potts tried a dive; but on account of his
weight, he mostly fell straight down instead of out and away. Once
on the ground, he settled on a frantic rolling motion. Martin, on
the other hand, didn’t move. His face flushed with anger, as he
drew his pistol and took aim.
    I wished I had taken the time to load
my musket, but then, I didn’t have much time to take.
    I tensed and waited for the inevitable
as he pulled the trigger.
    It all happened in the same instant: my
heart skipped a beat and my lungs quit working all together. The
gun belched fire and smoke as time slowed to a crawl, and a little,
deadly black ball whizzed towards me on a collision course with
destiny.

Chapter Three: The Hunted

    P ERHAPS it was fate that saved me, or the dark. It could
even have been simple luck in Smoke’s stride…regardless, the ball
shot past me, so close that I felt it tousle strands of my hair. I
let out my breath, and thundered on. Martin’s shot had missed, and
he knew it. Uncertainty now filled his eyes.
    After a few more gaits, I pulled so
hard on the reins that Smoke slid to a stop and reared up right
next to the cowering Martin.
    Time again slowed to a crawl; but this
time it was for him. Terror spread across his face and his mouth
fell open in shock. He had no time to react.
    In one fluid movement, I pulled out my
own musket, flipped it in the air, catching it by the cold barrel,
and swung it in a low arc. With a sickening crunch, the butt
crashed into the side of Martin’s head, causing his body to
cartwheel and sprawl prostrate on the ground. Blood poured from his
smashed skull and soaked into the dirt.
    Smoke’s front legs slowly came down as
my eyes locked with the hollow eyes of Martin’s ghost. It was not
the first time I had seen a spirit—I’d seen a man die before.
However, it was the first time I had taken a life.
    The ghost looked bewildered, like it
couldn’t figure out what had just happened—not realizing it was
dead. The specter tried to figure out how I’d missed. It didn’t
take it long to understand. Something caught its attention and it
lowered its hollow eyes to the crumpled body that lay unmoving at
its feet—and it knew. The spirit of Mr. Martin began to scream a
horrible, unnatural shrill. I don’t know if it was a cry of fear or
that of a damned soul; but I was sure I was the only one who could
see or hear it.
    The shock of what had happened began to
wear off and men leapt into action. The fallen scrambled to their
feet, groping for their muskets. Stealing a glance behind me, I
could see the riders returning from my cottage. There would be no
going south and joining the hunting party now.
    I turned Smoke into the black night
and, with a small kick, we shot forward down the main street, and
through the fields, heading for the forbidding forest. Cottages and
farms whipped by. As I neared the boundary, I looked back on the
town; more lights were appearing through the windows of the homes.
From the chaos and the noise, there was no doubt the whole
settlement knew by now. Bad news always spreads quickly in a small
village. In Syre, it appeared to travel faster than the pursuing
riders.
Almost by magic
, I thought ironically. More
horsemen joined the chase as they passed the town hall. With a
fleeting look, I counted six.
    We crashed into the dark woods. I knew
Smoke could see in this blackness; however, I wasn’t so sure of
my
abilities. If a protruding branch knocked me off, it
would take Smoke a few moments to realize what had happened before
coming back for me, assuming he even did. Though, at this point, he
seemed to be enjoying the ride. So, I let him