Most likely the reader would hurl the book against the wall in anger and never purchase another tale from anybody associated with its telling.
Once again the horse leapt into the air, as if it had wings.
Mongrel and Kleft’s car swerved underneath the mighty stallion.
And then it landed upon the roof.
Nathan could not hear what the men beneath him were screaming, but it seemed to be variants on “There’s a horse on the roof of our car!” The horse’s hooves had left a very deep dent, which may or may not have been near one of their heads, so it was also possible that they were screaming about that.
As the horse leapt off, the car plummeted off the side of the road.
Mongrel and Kleft were not as villainous as Steamspell, and did not suffer so horrific a fate. Which is not to say that things did not work out badly for them. The car landed at the bottom of the hill, bounced thrice, and came to a stop. Kleft, shaken but mostly unharmed, peered out the window.
“Does that look like quicksand to you?” he asked.
“It does,” said Mongrel.
Their slow descent offered plenty of time to share their feelings and discuss where they’d gone wrong in life. It is safe to say that if they’d been rescued, they would have emerged from the quicksand as better people. Instead, their improved personalities were to be forever submerged in the muck.
Nathan, of course, knew none of these things, and assumed that his enemies were merely unconscious at the bottom of the hill, awaiting arrest.
He was free!
He could return home to Penny and Mary!
He could see Jamison again if he hadn’t died yet!
For the first time since being dragged off to jail, Nathan felt as if things might be working out in his favor.
Except that the horse wouldn’t stop.
“Whoa, boy,” he said. “We should turn around. Home is the other way.”
The horse continued to gallop straight ahead.
He tugged on its mane. “Let’s turn around. When we get home I’ll give you carrots and I’ll brush you every day and we’ll get you a proper saddle. Such fun we will have!”
The horse continued to gallop straight ahead.
“I don’t think you’re understanding me. There’s nothing for us this way. In the opposite direction, now that’s where good things await. I’ll bet that Penny and Mary love horses. How can you not love a horse? Please turn around.”
The horse continued to gallop straight ahead.
“Argh,” said Nathan.
Jumping off the horse seemed like a good way to break a leg, and breaking a leg seemed like a good way to starve to death all alone, so Nathan decided to stay put until the horse got tired. Before too long, the stress of the evening overpowered him, and Nathan wrapped his arms around the horse’s neck and went to sleep.
When he woke up, the horse was still running and it was daytime. He wasn’t sure if it had run all night, or if he’d slept through its resting period.
“Please turn around,” he said, nudging it on the sides with his feet.
The horse continued to gallop straight ahead.
It ran throughout the day, galloping across fields, through two different forests, and through a town where all of the residents thought he was kidding when he shouted “Stop the horse! Stop the horse!”
He fell asleep again.
When he woke up, it was completely dark out and the rotten horse was still running.
“At least let me stop to get something to eat!” he begged.
Again he considered just jumping off, but if he wasted this much time only to end up breaking his leg anyway, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to bear it. The horse had to stop eventually. He’d just force himself to stay awake, no matter what.
Night became morning.
He grudgingly admitted that he had to admire the horse’s unwavering dedication to running in that particular direction. It was certainly not a wishy-washy creature.
Morning became late morning, which became early afternoon, which became afternoon, which became late afternoon.
He wished he had something with which to club the horse over the head.
Late afternoon became early evening which became evening which became late evening which became night.
Nathan fell asleep.
When he awoke, it was daylight and the horse had stopped running.
TWENTY
It was very cold.
In fact, Nathan was surrounded by ice and snow. There was nothing but blinding white as far as he could see, except for what appeared to be a seal off in the distance. A brutal wind tore through him like frozen daggers whose tips had been dipped in liquid nitrogen.
He wanted to jump off the horse, but he could barely move. His hands were frozen to the horse’s mane. Using every bit of strength he could summon, he leaned to the side until he finally fell off the horse, landing in a patch of snow.
The horse turned around and ran off.
Nathan got to his feet and looked around in a complete circle. Was he at the North Pole? He wasn’t even sure which direction he’d come from, since the snow had covered up the horse’s tracks.
This felt like exactly the kind of circumstance that merited a lengthy, primal scream.
He let one out and felt better.
His teeth were chattering and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to feel his tongue if he bit it, so he tried to be careful. He wasn’t dressed for this kind of weather at all.
Up ahead. Was that a polar bear?
He stared at it closely.
No, it wasn’t a polar bear. Just a regular bear covered with snow.
Though Nathan liked to think that he was relatively brave in the face of danger, he really wasn’t up to fighting a bear. If nothing else, he was so cold that he thought his fist would snap off if he punched it. He’d simply stand here and hope that the bear didn’t notice him.
The bear was looking in his direction, but Nathan wasn’t sure if it had noticed him or not.
The bear began to walk toward him. That wasn’t solid proof that it had noticed him. It had to walk in some direction if it didn’t want to stand around in the snow all day, so why not walk in Nathan’s? It wasn’t growling, or at least it wasn’t growling loud enough to be heard over the wind. The wind was pretty loud, so it was entirely possible that the bear was growling.
Nathan decided to improve his chances of survival. He dropped to the ground and quickly scooped snow over his body until he was completely covered except for his hands. He pulled those underneath the snow and waited.
His body was so numb that if the bear did start chewing on him, he probably wouldn’t even feel it.
He was tired. Exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open, but was it bad to fall asleep when you were stuck out in the snow? He thought he’d heard something about that once. It was either really good or either bad. Either you died or hibernated. He knew for sure that he didn’t want to die, and hibernating didn’t sound so great, so he just needed to force himself to stay awake until he was sure that the bear had wandered someplace else. Think conscious thoughts. Think about people with their eyes wide open who’d had a full night’s sleep and felt no need to yawn. Realize that if he fell asleep, he’d have awful dreams where he stood in his underwear and people pointed and laughed, or he’d forgotten to study for an important test, or he’d grown a dachshund on his chest.