As she reached a turn in the path, a covey of small, colorful birds burst from a thicket of ferns. Startled, she let out a small cry and stood still until she saw what they were. Delighted, she clapped her hands at the birds fluttering overhead in confusion.
Wanting to find more of the pretty birds, but unsure about going any further, Kayla looked behind her for the door she’d taken into this strange garden. She could just see its hazy outline shimmering in the misty light. A rumble from the vicinity of her tummy reminded her of lunch and that Momma was really going to be mad at her if she was very late, again. She was considering returning when the rustle of leaves and crack of a branch snapped her attention back to the path before her.
Her faint hope that it might be more of the little birds flying out of the bushes was shattered as the biggest man she’d ever seen emerged from amongst the ferns.
Seeming equally surprised to find the little girl standing in his path, the man halted his lumbering progress. Reaching a gloved hand up, he pushed back the hood that covered his head and concealed his face in its shadow so that he might see the child more clearly.
Kayla’s terrified scream echoed throughout the garden. The shock of adrenaline into her bloodstream released her legs and feet from where they’d taken root in the path, and she ran faster than she’d ever run before toward the thickening mist shrouding the doorway.
Without slowing for a backward look, she threw her small body into the dark portal to escape the horror of the skeletal monster she knew with every fiber of her child’s heart pursued her and fell into the grip of large, rough hands that quickly closed about her.
Kicking and screaming, powerful arms pulled her and held tight.
“It’s alright, baby. It’s alright, nobody’s going to hurt you,” David Johnson, Senior said as he tried to sooth the hysterical child he was grasping in his arms with some effort. He had already handed his own two crying and frightened offspring to their mother and returned to search for this one, who, if experience meant anything, was probably the ringleader.
Recognizing the voice of her playmates’ father, Kayla stopped struggling and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
“That’s strange,” he said as he backed through the doorway. “I’d swear that I already looked in this room.” Closing the door on the room full of odd paintings and trophies, he grumbled at her, more in relief than anger, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you three kids. Anything could’ve happened to you in this dilapidated old ruin!” He looked down at the little girl clinging to him, her eyes huge with fear. She was such a pretty, little thing, even with the bits of leaves and orange grass caught in her long hair and smudges of blue dirt on her tear-stained face.
“Maybe this scare will teach her not to be so adventurous in the future,” he mumbled under his breath as he headed for the door.
Wheezing and out of breathe, he had to stop to rest. Leaning his stocky body against the gatepost for a moment, he gasped out loud, “Damn! Dave old boy, you had better start taking those vitamins like the wife keeps telling you to if carrying one tiny little girl is going to wear you out like this!”
Stumbling slightly, he crossed the street, passed Kayla into her anxious mother’s arms…and fainted at her feet.
* * * *
Mr. Johnson recovered from his collapse in a couple of days but the cause left his doctors baffled.
Kayla tried to tell her parents about the doorway that had opened into the strange garden and of the frightening man that had chased her, but they’d refused to listen to anymore of her stories and sent her off to her room.
Only Gram had come to comfort the sobbing child later and to listen to her tale, stopping her only to ask for more details of the garden and of how the man looked…and she seemed very concerned.
Afterward, she heard through the crack of the partly opened door of her room the first of the many arguments her parents and Gram were to have over her.
As she grew older, Kayla learned to be more careful. She learned that people became nervous and uneasy around her when she answered their questions before they were asked or commented on things she hadn’t been told. When she forgot and drew too much attention, it usually meant another move for the family. Just when she’d started to make friends again.
The constant moving was upsetting but not as much as the fact that anyone who spent very much time in close contact with her, other than her immediate family, seemed to fall victim to illness. But it wasn’t until after Robbie, that, desperate for help, Kayla had confided in her grandmother.
* * * *
She was fifteen and Robbie seemed so mature at an ancient seventeen, and she knew that this wonderful new feeling had to be love. Kayla wanted nothing more than to spend every waking hour of time with him. And that night at the dance they'd talked and even kissed, whispering of times they would spend together. But on the trip home, Robbie had been strangely quiet. Brushing away her concern with loving words, he said he was only tired was all.
He managed to bring the car to a jerking stop in front of her house before passing out.
His doctors were never able to explain what caused him to remain in a coma for a week after.
Robbie had never called her again.
Sobbing brokenheartedly, Kayla had told Gram what happened to Robbie. She also told her about her other friends and their strange propensity for becoming ill after spending too much time with her.
“Oh, Gram,” she sniffed, “it seems like it’s my fault somehow!” Sobbing, she threw herself into her grandmother’s arms.
When the worst of the storm had passed, Gram held her at arm’s length and studied her granddaughter with troubled eyes for several moments before saying, “Kayla, your mother has forbidden me to discuss these things with you, but I can no longer keep my word. There are things you must be told.”
She shook the sobbing girl to get her full attention.
“Now, you must listen well to what I’m going to tell you! You are a very special person with unusual “needs.” I’m sorry to have to say this but your mother is a fool! She has absolutely no idea what you really are or how to deal with you. You’ve obviously inherited your father’s nature, and she never did fully understand what she’d gotten into when she chose to marry him. Though, I truly did try to tell her.” Gram’s face grew so sad, for it had always been forbidden to discuss Kayla’s natural father or his sudden death shortly before her birth.
“You must be more careful from now on, or you may very well do serious harm to your friends, and I know you would never do that intentionally.” She looked into her granddaughter’s stricken face and said sadly, “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t tell you everything right now, but until I can, you must trust me, and you must not stay in such close physical contact with another boy until you have a full understanding of your nature. Next time, he may not survive the experience.”
“Oh, Gram,” Kayla wailed. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I think I love him,” she sobbed. “How could I have hurt poor Robbie like that? What’s wrong with me?”
“Stop that now.” Shaking her granddaughter gently, she told her, “It’s not something that’s wrong with you! You’re just different from others. Your body draws strength from those around you. Especially during emotionally charged situations.” She shook her head at her own blindness and went on. “I should have realized what you were sooner. The evidence has been there all along. It’s only that your mother interfered so much that it was difficult to see what was happening.”
Taking a deep breathe she went on. “Kayla, I know that I’m asking a lot of you, but you will just have to trust me. You will be told everything, soon, I promise, but for now, you must promise me this. You must keep a physical distance between you and all of your friends from now on!”
* * * *
Puzzled and very confused, Kayla gave her word. She’d allowed herself no close friends from then on. Not until Gram brought her Shadow Hawk, that is, and now her colossal arrogance
was going to cost her him, too!
Kayla parents were upset by the attention that had centered on her and “that horse” Gram had given her since the incident at the riding arena. People kept calling and some had even come to the house trying to get a look at Hawk and examine him more closely.
Shelly Hoffman’s father had actually called Kayla’s father at the office and offered him an unbelievable amount of money for the horse. But what had been even more amazing was that selling him had never once been discussed. As angry as her father was, he had merely announced that the animal would be returned to Gram.
“I will not discuss this, Kayla,” he said to the astonished and rebellious teenager, and walked out of the house.
Shooting out of her chair, Kayla rounded on her mother, “No! He’s mine. I won’t give him up! Ever!”
“I’m sorry, Kayla. You heard your father. We’ll be moving as soon as we can arrange it. That animal cannot be brought with us,” she answered unemotionally as she continued to clean up from breakfast, completely ignoring her daughter’s desperate pleas.
Furious, Kayla stomped out of the kitchen and down the hall to her room.
Dropping her robe to the floor, Kayla rummaged through her dresser drawers looking for the silk bra and panties of the same color as her favorite silk shirts. She loved the way the blue matched her eyes perfectly. They’d all been gifts from Gram, of course. She always seemed to know exactly the sort of thing that would please her.
Rubbing the soft fabric of the shirtsleeve against her cheek to enjoy the sensuous touch of it, Kayla remembered with a smile how her grandmother had called it spider silk. She returned to her closet, and after several minutes of banging and tossing things about, emerged, still wiggling into her favorite pair of old blue jeans. Tucked under one arm were the black leather boots Gram had said were real lizard skin and under the other, she clutched an old cardboard shoebox. She’d thrown her saddlebags over her shoulder, too, so she wouldn’t have to go back for them.
Kayla dumped everything in the center of her bed and plopped down on the edge to struggle into the boots, but she was forced to get back up and stomp noisily around the room to settle her feet before she could return to the task of rummaging through the contents of the shoebox.
Scooping up the handful of dollar bills she’d saved from her allowance, she jammed them into her jeans pocket before impatiently riffling through the odd assortment of trinkets and mementos. Finally, she pushed everything to the side except the knife in its sleek black leather case.
Drawing it from the sheath, she held the knife up to the light to admire the handle of delicately carved ivory and the inlaid design of silver and small blue gems. The faintly glowing blade appeared to have been formed from some kind of crystal and was razor sharp. Her mother had given the knife to her last Christmas saying that it had belonged to her natural father. It was the only thing Kayla had of his.
Wiping a tear from her cheek with one sleeve, Kayla returned the knife to its sheath before slipping her belt through the slots at its back. Pulling the saddlebags to her, she unbuckled the flaps and stuffed a set of spare clothing identical to what she was wearing, along with her favorite silver-handled hairbrush into one side and added an assortment of toiletries to it before refastening it. A quick inspection of the other pouch assured her that it still held Hawk’s hoof pick and curry brush. Satisfied, Kayla turned to the big mirror over her dresser and, with a deft twist, pulled the waist-length mass of pale blonde hair up onto her head.
She stared back at her reflection for a moment, but her unusual looks had always made her feel self-conscious. Her hair was so blonde and that streak of white rising from her right temple had brought more than one snide comment from other children while she was growing up about looking like she’d been struck by lightning.
Making a face at her reflection, she clamped her black felt hat onto her head, and scooping up her saddlebags, stomped from the room.
Satisfying as it had been, she immediately regretted the slamming of the bedroom door behind her. She paused for one breathless moment to be sure no one was responding to the ruckus before moving down the short hallway on silent feet. Easing up to the edge of the kitchen door, she peeked around the corner before entering to be sure her mother had left.
A quick trip to the refrigerator and pantry provided her with a bar of cheese, some leftover ham and most of a loaf of French bread left over from last night’s dinner. Filling her canteen with water, Kayla shouldered her saddlebags again and stormed out of the house off to the stables.
Cantering down the narrow trail worn between the rows of tall orange trees, Kayla could smell the heavy, almost overpowering fragrance of their blossoms. The breeze was blowing Hawk’s thick mane back against her, mingling it with her own pale locks that were already fugitive from the confines of her hat. It was times like these that Kayla could almost forget that she had a worry in the world.
“If only we could go on like this forever, Hawk, with no one to answer to. Just you and me!” she said wistfully as she slowed him to a walk.
It didn’t take them long to reach her goal, a small grove of giant live oak trees growing beside a creek. This was her favorite retreat. It was so quiet and peaceful. She loved the way the silver-grey moss hung from the trees’ great-drooping limbs like tattered draperies. The ancient trees lent this place its special feeling of isolation and sad melancholy that so often of late suited her mood.
Sliding from the saddle, Kayla wrapped her arms around the stallion’s silky neck, and let her tears soak into his soft coat. Engrossed in her private world of misery, it was awhile before the persistent cawing of crows overhead was able to draw her attention.
Leaning her head back and shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, Kayla watched the agitated black birds circling the grove, dipping and soaring on invisible currents of air and wondered what had disturbed them so.
The sound of branches snapping in the grove of trees behind her brought Kayla spinning about.
“Well, well, look what we’ve found here Jack-o,” said one of the four men emerging from the concealment of the underbrush.
Kayla had thought of this spot as her own private territory for so long that she’d forgotten that the local farmers and their hired help used the dirt trails to maintain the groves. She had encountered only one crew before this, and their friendly, carefree attitude had been very different from the feelings of malice and danger that emanated from these.
Hawk danced nervously at her side as she froze, watching the group of men moving toward her. They all sported several days’ worth of beard stubble and wore their hair long and shaggy. They were wearing matching jeans and dirty, black tee shirts with skulls painted on the fronts. Only the one who had spoken had broken the dress code by adding a sweaty, red bandanna tied around his head to his uniform.
“Hew Wee!” exclaimed the one called Jack. “Hey, baby, come on over here and let Jackie make you feel better,” he jeered as he moved to one side to cut off the path she’d followed and blocked her escape.
Hawk snorted loudly and struck his hoof against the ground in an angry threat as the men closed in on them.
“Right. Let’s get out of here,” whispered Kayla as she eased herself into the saddle, hoping not to alert the men to her plan.
“Hey, sweet thing! Where ya’ goin’? Why don’t ya’ stay and play awhile!” leered the one with the red bandanna. “You got some real nice toys there, and I’ve got something for you, too!” He laughed and grasped his crotch with one hand, making suggestive movements with his hips.
Kayla touched her heals to Hawk’s sides, and they leaped for the gap between two of the men surrounding her.
Fearing the loss of their prize, one of the men made a lunge for the horse’s bridle. He was quicker than Kayla expected and managed to hook a big, brown hand into it and drag them to a stop.
Ears flat to his skull, Hawk snorted and charged the man that was preventing their escape. Striking out
with one powerful hoof, he brought the big man to his knees gasping in pain. His rage mounting, the stallion barred his teeth and seized the downed man by the back of the neck.
Rearing skyward, Hawk brought his screaming, thrashing captive with him, and with a vicious snap of his head, Hawk tossed him aside to lie in an unmoving heap at the feet of the stunned gang leader.
Shocked by her mount’s unexpected show of aggression, Kayla could only hold on.
Rearing and striking out with his hooves, the stallion issued a shrill challenge to battle before returning his feet to earth and heading for the road at a fast clip.
They were just beginning to pick up speed when they turned in a bend in the path and encountered a half-dozen or more men mounted on motorcycles, blocking their path.
The engines erupted into life, the roaring of the pack of metal lions reverberated on the heavy air, menacing and full of danger. Even over the sound of the engines, the jagged voice of the one called Jack assaulted Kayla’s ears.
“You boys need to watch out for that demon’s hooves!” he hooted to his comrades. Throwing his long leg over the back of one of the bikes, he wrapped his hand in the driver’s dirty shirt to keep his balance.
Trapped between the two groups of bikers and unable to find a way between them, Hawk locked his knees and slid to a stop in a shower of loose sand and gravel. Truly frightened now, Kayla turned the stallion back in his tracks.
With his path blocked and no other option, the stallion charged the nearest biker, striking the man with his shoulder as he forced his way between the bikes. With a clear path ahead, he raced back toward the creek.
Not to be so easily discouraged, the men and bikes followed. “Don’t worry boys, she can’t get away now. We’ll trap her against that creek bank,” Jack shouted.
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