fields below and some kind of stove or heating unit crafted to look like an antique.
Thereâs nothing here for me, either. But still I stop for a moment and admire the view, trying to imagine what it would be like for someone to live here.
After just standing for a while, I decide itâs time to leave. I could check out another of the houses, but my haul is substantial enough and I donât need to right now. Besides, Iâll have plenty of time to clear these old houses. At least until the fuel stops lasting. I might as well take it a little slow.
I drop my finds into the back of the Ferrari and gun her up. The sound of the engine seems louder now that my heart isnât jackhammering in my chest. Then Iâm heading back to the hill and toward Viktorâs farm.
My smile is wide as I make my way back.
I park the car near the fenceâs gate and scramble with my haul inside and into the house. Happy, almost beaming, I remove all my treasures and line them up on Viktorâs table, waiting for his arrival.
I also crack open the liquor and take a quick celebratory swig.
I expected Viktor to be here when I got back, but he must have decided to do something else. In a way itâs better like this. I can surprise him when he gets back.
I slide into a chair gripping one of the Westerns I took from the house. I havenât read many of them, but every time I come across one I feel drawn to it. Something about that time, people living in a wild, dangerous frontier. It reminds me of now. Only those were societyâs growing pains. Now weâre living in its death throes.
Iâm into the second chapter when I hear a horrific squeal outside. I run to the window and through it I see Rex rearing in front of the gate. I wonder whatâs going on, then it hits me. Maybe the horse is hurt. Maybe Viktorâs hurt. Maybe thatâs why they arenât already inside the fence.
Iâm out the door and halfway to the gate when I realize that Viktor isnât on Rexâs back.
I hit the gate release and the horse comes galloping in, running around the open yard and tossing his head. He looks wild. Huge. Iâm afraid to go near him.
I wonder if he would attack me. My hand hovers near my revolver.
Itâs as Iâm thinking about how to subdue him that he seems to calm down and approaches me slowly. I reach my hand out the way Viktor showed me, though my other hand still remains near the pistol.
Rex walks closer and nuzzles my hand.
Where the fuck is Viktor?
I slowly walk around Rex and then I see it. The large dark stain on the horseâs brown flank. Sticky.
Blood.
I back away. I donât know whose blood this is. It could be Viktorâs, of course. Or it could be Feral blood. I know that it doesnât appear to be the horseâs blood. He doesnât appear to be injured from what I can see, though Iâm certainly not getting too close to that blood.
What the fuck happened?
I feel like I should get on Rex and go out looking, but I barely know how to ride and again, thereâs that blood. So instead I leave Rex and go out to the Ferrari. I drive down the hill, around where we saw the Ferals. I drive in the direction I saw him leaving that morning. I go around and around until Iâm not sure which direction Iâm facing.
Thereâs no sign of Viktor.
That doesnât mean anything, I think. He could still be out there. Maybe he just fell off Rex and is now making his way back to the house. Slowly. Carefully.
So I return to the house myself. Rex is now calm, away from the outside world. I manage, somehow, to undo the straps on the saddle and remove (or rather topple) it from him, being careful not to get close to the blood, even wrapping my gloves in additional cloth. Then I leave the horse to wander.
I return to the house and sit there, worrying. Wondering. So I pick up the book and start to read. Have to pass the time somehow. I keep listening, though.
Thereâs nothing here for me, either. But still I stop for a moment and admire the view, trying to imagine what it would be like for someone to live here.
After just standing for a while, I decide itâs time to leave. I could check out another of the houses, but my haul is substantial enough and I donât need to right now. Besides, Iâll have plenty of time to clear these old houses. At least until the fuel stops lasting. I might as well take it a little slow.
I drop my finds into the back of the Ferrari and gun her up. The sound of the engine seems louder now that my heart isnât jackhammering in my chest. Then Iâm heading back to the hill and toward Viktorâs farm.
My smile is wide as I make my way back.
I park the car near the fenceâs gate and scramble with my haul inside and into the house. Happy, almost beaming, I remove all my treasures and line them up on Viktorâs table, waiting for his arrival.
I also crack open the liquor and take a quick celebratory swig.
I expected Viktor to be here when I got back, but he must have decided to do something else. In a way itâs better like this. I can surprise him when he gets back.
I slide into a chair gripping one of the Westerns I took from the house. I havenât read many of them, but every time I come across one I feel drawn to it. Something about that time, people living in a wild, dangerous frontier. It reminds me of now. Only those were societyâs growing pains. Now weâre living in its death throes.
Iâm into the second chapter when I hear a horrific squeal outside. I run to the window and through it I see Rex rearing in front of the gate. I wonder whatâs going on, then it hits me. Maybe the horse is hurt. Maybe Viktorâs hurt. Maybe thatâs why they arenât already inside the fence.
Iâm out the door and halfway to the gate when I realize that Viktor isnât on Rexâs back.
I hit the gate release and the horse comes galloping in, running around the open yard and tossing his head. He looks wild. Huge. Iâm afraid to go near him.
I wonder if he would attack me. My hand hovers near my revolver.
Itâs as Iâm thinking about how to subdue him that he seems to calm down and approaches me slowly. I reach my hand out the way Viktor showed me, though my other hand still remains near the pistol.
Rex walks closer and nuzzles my hand.
Where the fuck is Viktor?
I slowly walk around Rex and then I see it. The large dark stain on the horseâs brown flank. Sticky.
Blood.
I back away. I donât know whose blood this is. It could be Viktorâs, of course. Or it could be Feral blood. I know that it doesnât appear to be the horseâs blood. He doesnât appear to be injured from what I can see, though Iâm certainly not getting too close to that blood.
What the fuck happened?
I feel like I should get on Rex and go out looking, but I barely know how to ride and again, thereâs that blood. So instead I leave Rex and go out to the Ferrari. I drive down the hill, around where we saw the Ferals. I drive in the direction I saw him leaving that morning. I go around and around until Iâm not sure which direction Iâm facing.
Thereâs no sign of Viktor.
That doesnât mean anything, I think. He could still be out there. Maybe he just fell off Rex and is now making his way back to the house. Slowly. Carefully.
So I return to the house myself. Rex is now calm, away from the outside world. I manage, somehow, to undo the straps on the saddle and remove (or rather topple) it from him, being careful not to get close to the blood, even wrapping my gloves in additional cloth. Then I leave the horse to wander.
I return to the house and sit there, worrying. Wondering. So I pick up the book and start to read. Have to pass the time somehow. I keep listening, though.
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