Except not, because this wasn’t a fucking movie or cautionary tale for children. He loitered by the door anyway, distracting himself with the small, glossy flyers in the little stand near the entrance. Community notices. He was interested in the community.
Upcoming holiday yard sale, with items donated by the wives and mothers of Skyler. A schedule of neighborhood open houses to buy decorations for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Further back, pumpkin patches being opened, hayrides, haunted mazes, apples, and–
“Good evening!”
Bo jumped at the sudden voice behind him, high and bright. He stared at the previously hidden employee, her eyes going wide under the shock of neon pink hair.
“I’m sorry!” She pulled her earbuds out, the same insistent color of her hair, and flashed Bo a quick, hurried smile. “I thought you heard me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m absolutely terrified.” They both laughed; the unsteady chuckle only incredibly uncomfortable people managed. “I thought I’d entered an alternate timeline for a minute. Sorry for lurking like a weirdo?”
This time, when she laughed, it sounded far lessthis is freaky as helland a tad moreoh good, I’m not going to die.
Well. Good. Last fucking thing he needed was to startle some poor gas station employee out of their skin and keep them there.
“I’m going to get food and something to drink,” he said, breaking the sudden silence before it stretched too far. “And gas.”
Social contract met, that’s what he did. Snack scavenging while she hummed behind the counter, tapping a clipboard with a pencil.
“Check us out, not spooking each other and everything,” she said when he set his shit on the counter. She’d put on a nametag withBrayleighscrawled in dark purple. “I get it. The little flyers are cute. I’d get distracted by them, too.”
“I was invested in the yard sale. This place sure likes its Halloween and autumn things.”
Brayleigh scoffed. She spared Bo a glance, curious, before her attention dropped back down to the scanner and his fourth bag of chips.
“You can blame the spooky pony place for that. And the whole ‘big fights during various wars happened here’ stuff. Some big family feuds somewhere, probably. Old towns like this? Fall is ourjam.” One last beep, and the final item (a bag of fruity gummies, sue him) dropped into a plastic bag. “How much in gas?”
“Spooky pony place?” Bo blinked, giving her both a blank look and no answer. “Right, gas, thanks. Twenty on four.”
“Gonna be forty-two fifty-seven.”
Bo liked his fucking snacks.
“What’s the spooky pony place?” Bo asked as he ran his card. And he was a fucking idiot, having read‘locally called the Phantom Stallion House’at least a dozen times before boarding the plane.“That the house with the ghost horse?”
“Drives my sister up the wall when I call it a spooky pony. I’ve never seen it, but I’m not an idiot, going out to abandoned houses, trying to get a B&E on my record. They were even going to try and make it into some kind of haunted house a couple years ago,” Brayleigh made a face and pushed the bags gently in Bo’s direction. “You’d not believe the stink when the town came back to the Ladies of Skyler saying someone owned it and they weren’t allowed.”
“You say, ‘spooky pony place’ and ’ghost horses,’ and all I can imagine is some wispy, dainty unicorn thing.” He laughed, bags in hand and already shifting to go. Brayleigh’s second scoff of the night gave him pause. “What?”
“I say spooky pony place, but it’screepy. Like I said, I’ve never seen it up close,” She shrugged, grabbing her clipboard as readily as Bo his food. “But I’d lean less towards ‘wispy, dainty unicorn’ and closer to ‘headless horseman.’ My sister said it’s taller than any horse she’s ever seen before.”
“Sheactuallysaw it?”
“She says she has. Half the town says that, though. Kids are always daring each other to spend the night inside. But no one ever does. Someone tells you different; they’re lying.”
“Too scared of the pony?
“Maybe. Even if it’s just a bunch of moldy wood in there, it’s not safe. But what if the stories are true?” Brayleigh shrugged. She liked to shrug, apparently. “We’re finding new species all the time.I’mnot going to be the one to discover a breed of ghost ponies too tall to walk through a door.”
“Right,” Bo said after a beat. Headless fucking horseman. He’d put money on there being someone nearby with a barn and a couple draft horses.Goodmoney. “Maybe I’ll stick to those hayrides.”
Brayleigh laughed, already back to her clipboard and pencil before Bo finished turning away. “Good call.”
Searching for ‘spooky ponyplace’ came up with a whole different flavor of results than ‘Phantom Stallion House’ or ‘Brookhaven House.’ There were photos, more smudge than shape, of a large dark figure in what might be water, surrounded by what he guessed were probably trees.
Further searches turned up forum posts about long-dead tribes capable of turning into horses, thus: ghost stallion. Which, frankly? Offensive as fuck and historically inaccurate. Not to mention, as many comments were quick to point out, most the sightings had happened in the last century.
Skyler also had the highest number of drownings in that century. He’d give the locals that much; a truly weird number of people met a watery death near the spooky pony house.
