مترسک شبگرد فصل 16

The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight - Chapter 16

Betsy rose up with a high whinny.

My hand grabbed for the reins, but they slipped from my grasp.

The sky appeared to roll over me, then tilt away.

I slid backwards, out of the saddle, off the horse, my feet thrashing wildly for the flapping stirrups.

The sky tilted even more.

I hit the ground hard on my back.

I remember only the shock of stopping so abruptly, the surprise at how hard the ground felt, how so much pain shot through my body so quickly.

The sky turned bright red. A glowing scarlet. Like an explosion.

And then the scarlet faded to deep, deep, endlessly deep black.

I heard low moans before I opened my eyes.

I recognized the voice. Mark’s voice.

My eyes still shut, I opened my mouth to call to him. My lips moved, but no sound came out.

“Ohhhh.” Another low groan from him, not far from me.

“Mark—?” I managed to choke out. My back ached. My shoulders hurt. My head throbbed.

Everything hurt.

“My wrist—I think I broke it,” Mark said, his voice shrill and frightened.

“You fell, too?” I asked.

“Yeah. I fell, too,” he groaned.

I opened my eyes. Finally. I opened my eyes.

And saw the hazy sky.

All a blur. Everything was a watery blur.

I stared at the sky, trying to get it in focus.

And then saw a hand in front of the sky. A hand lowering itself toward me.

A bony hand stretching out from a heavy black coat.

The hand of the scarecrow, I realized, staring up helplessly at it.

The hand of the scarecrow, coming down to grab me.