It wasn’t going to be an easy trip. He knew the path he’d chosen, and he began making his way back, though with such a heavy creature in his arms, he had far less dexterity. He wouldn’t be climbing anything with it, that was for sure.
No, with her. She sounded like a her when she made her not-quite-talking noises, and his instinct felt right. Female horse-monster baby thing.
Eventually he reached the edge of a rocky slope, leading back down into the forest proper. He didn’t recognize any of the landmarks, but maybe if he kept going that way, he’d find something familiar.
Kyle dropped to the ground, edging his way towards the slope, tightening his grip of the alien. “Just, uh… hold on, I guess,” he muttered. “It’s not that steep.” But that wasn’t true. He just didn’t want to look at how steep it was.
He started sliding, and after just a few feet his hiking boots no longer did a damn thing to help slow him down. The baby started giggling, or maybe cheering with excitement?
He winced, tucking his head and closing his eyes for whatever impact waited at the bottom. At least he could take the blow for the colored horse baby.
The slope leveled abruptly, dumping them onto the grass packed heavily with towering evergreens. But instead of smacking into them, he just… stopped, jerking backward abruptly. He opened one eye, looking around for what had caught him. A net, maybe, or something unraveling his shorts?
There was nothing, just the giggling baby in his arms. She nudged him with a hoof, then pointed back at the slope, squeaking energetically. “You want to go again?” he guessed, rising to shaky legs. “That’s… no. I don’t know how I don’t have a concussion right now.” His arms were already starting to ache with the effort of holding her, but he couldn’t give up now. He needed to find anything familiar, then maybe he could take a break for a minute and catch his breath.
This time, the trip was far from relaxing. Instead of letting his mind wander, he kept returning to the strange creature he was carrying. But just getting a better view didn’t give him any idea of why she was out here. There were no identification tags he hadn’t seen at first, no tattoos under her coat. Just an animal that made no sense and shouldn’t exist.
After nearly an hour of hiking, long enough that the sky began to twinge towards orange overhead, he finally found something familiar—the river.
He dropped down, lowering the creature to the ground. His arms felt like they’d been drained of blood, and he was going to have a hard time opening them again. But that could wait.
“I need a… break,” he said, settling down beside the river and lowering his boots into the cool water. It didn’t even matter if he got blisters, he just needed to breathe.
Instead of getting upset, the baby rose to stubby legs, standing entirely on her own. She grinned up at him, then lowered her head down towards the surface of the water.
“Wait, no.” He caught her by the back, pushing her away. “I know it looks clear, but it’s probably not good to drink.” He removed his pack, unscrewing the cap from his water-bottle and tilting it down towards her. “Have mine.”
She did, drinking the entire thing in a few large gasps. This seemed to satisfy her, though she was soon moving again. She didn’t seem content to wait for him to be the one to move, but started bouncing up and down the river, making more energetic squeaking calls with every step.
“I need a minute…” he said, though of course there was no point. This wasn’t just a baby, but it was a baby animal. There was no chance it would understand him. “Too bad you’re not ready to follow me. We might already be home by now if I didn’t have to carry you.”
She might not be able to understand him, but she could clearly tell when he was giving her attention, because she stuck out her tongue as he spoke, giggling quietly to herself.
“Yeah, yeah.” He didn’t wait much longer—another minute or two, and he was ready to move again. At least now he was back on a familiar track, headed towards home.
By the time he finally saw the rusting, overgrown fence, only the last distant gasps of twilight remained. There would be no climbing through the back-fence while carrying an animal, even if it was close to the stable. So he made his way around, letting the brambles tear at his arms and legs but protecting the animal as he made his way through. He winced as his jacket tore right down one side, trailing bits of cloth behind him. But there was no other way to the front of the property.
Finally he could cut sideways through some dead bushes onto the long driveway, which now had its fair share of cracks and broken asphalt.
Unfortunately for him, the little animal didn’t have unlimited patience. As they got closer, she had started making noises. Pitiful squeaks for attention, which of course meant nothing to him. “I don’t know what you want,” he said. “But this is my house, see? Once we’re inside, we’ll get animal control involved, and they’ll help you. Get you a… horse doctor. Whatever those are called.”
Hopefully you’re not really as smart as you look. I don’t want them putting you in a zoo or something. But it wasn’t really his business. He was just in the right place at the right time, that was all. Anyone would’ve done it.
The garage door was open, and all three cars were missing from inside. A minor relief, since at least he wouldn’t have to justify the disaster he was about to cause. It would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission.
He opened the door with a foot, then shoved his shoulder up against it and made his way inside. It didn’t completely calm the child down, but at least she did seem curious, stopping her complaining to stare at the old photos of his dead ancestors.
“You like them?” He stopped in the entryway, beside a replica suit of armor that no member of his family had actually worn. Wrong continent. “That makes one of us. It’s weird to live in a house with so many paintings. Like their ghosts never left when they died.”
The baby pawed out towards the oil painting, and he pulled her back by reflex. Those hooves were plenty dirty from the riverbank. He hadn’t even noticed during the walk, considering how gross he’d gotten at the same time.
There was only one place he could take such a dirty creature without getting a lecture when the game ended—into the kitchen, where there was tile instead of ancient carpet.
He settled her down on a granite countertop, before turning for the fridge and the old phone still wired up beside it. It was a small wonder that it still worked after all these years—and a bigger one that his parents still kept a phone book beside it. While Kyle started flipping through looking for the number for animal control, the horse-baby-thing made her way towards him. Or… not, she was interested in the fridge. She reached out towards it, starting to whine again.
Are you hungry? “I don’t think there’s anything in here you can eat,” he began, opening the fridge wide for her to see. There had been a time when it was full of leftovers from their family’s homecooked meals, but these days they mostly got takeout. Even so, the horse whined a little louder, reaching out towards something on the top shelf.
Kyle made to shut the fridge, ignoring her—and that was when it happened.
The jug of milk lifted off the top shelf, as though a shaky hand were moving it across the room.
Kyle dropped the phone book, staring openly at the jug as it moved towards her. There was no mistaking the cause of the strange effect, not when the jug glowed around the edges, a soft gold that exactly matched the shade radiating from her forehead. She’s moving it.
Not very well, though. After traveling about a foot closer to her, the jug stopped in the air, hovering unsteadily like she was losing her grip. The baby’s concentrated squint grew more intense, and it started to sag.
Kyle caught it in one hand. “You’re hungry, okay. Let’s see what… I can figure out.” It was only his sister and himself, so there was no younger sibling that made keeping a bottle around make any sense. And weren’t you supposed to heat it first? He’d never seen his parents care for a baby, so he didn’t actually know. Kara probably has all the instincts for this. Because she’s perfect at everything ever.
“Okay, uh… here.” He fished around in the cupboard for a minute, emerging with a small mug. He filled it with milk, then stuck it into the microwave. And maybe he was imagining things, but he could’ve sworn that the baby was looking skeptically at him. “I’m doing my best!” he said, wincing at her muddy hoofprints on the counter.
Finally he set the mug down in front of her, touching the liquid inside with a finger to confirm it wasn’t too hot. “There you go. Just, uh… enjoy that.” He turned his back on her, going for the phone book again. I probably shouldn’t tell them my horse is paranormal.
This time he found the number right away—it was on the inside cover, exactly where he should’ve known to look. Really he should’ve gone upstairs and got his phone, but there was no guarantee the horse wouldn’t try to follow, making everything much harder than it had to be. He twisted the rotary dial around one number at a time, then turned back to the baby as it started to ring.
She approached the cup a little like a cat, sniffing skeptically at the surface of the milk before licking at it a few times. “It’s the best I can do,” he said. “I’m bringing the experts, just hold on a little longer.” What else were you supposed to do for a baby animal? Keep it warm? If she’s this big, I don’t want to meet her mom. I bet she could gore me with a horn like that.
I should probably be freaking out more. There’s a mythical creature in my kitchen. But for whatever reason, Kyle just wasn’t that bothered. The animal was strange, and maybe its powers meant he was harboring some kind of… alien? But it was still a baby, desperate and hungry.
“Monroe County animal control, this is Laura speaking.”
“Hi,” he said, twisting one finger around the cord. “Are you guys the people I call about an… escaped animal?” As he said it, the escaped animal hit the edge of the milk-glass, knocking it into the sink in front of her with a sound of dissatisfaction. He turned his back on her—this was all the more reason for him to get the experts involved. She could wait a little longer.
The woman on the other end laughed. “Depends where it escaped from. If you’re a zoo, probably not. Otherwise, yes. If you’re missing a pet, we can check our shelter to see if anything has come in. Are we talking about a dog or a cat?”
“A… horse,” he began. “And it didn’t escape from me, I found it. I was hoping you guys could send someone to—” Kyle trailed off, staring down at his hands. He’d started glowing. The phone snapped away from him as he jerked backward. It wasn’t like a set of hands were grabbing him so much as an invisible wall pressed against his chest, irresistibly strong. He turned back around, whimpering from the force.
On the kitchen counter, he could make out Laura’s voice, too faint to understand. But she would have to wait, because more impossible things were distracting him.
“I don’t know how to help you,” he said. “I want to, but I don’t know how! That’s why I’m calling animal control. They’re going to take you somewhere with people who know how to help a… whatever you are.”
The baby didn’t understand. No matter how smart she really was, this time she could do little more than reach out towards the milk-jug, whining.
“I already gave it to you,” he said, finding he could move again. He reached down, running one hand through her mane. It was incredibly soft, despite however long she’d been abandoned out there. Like she had her own natural conditioner. “Horse thing, uh… whatever you are. That’s all the milk we have. You didn’t want it.”
He reached into the sink, replacing the mug and pouring another glass, nudging it towards her. “Now let me call animal control, please.” Maybe what he’d heard about microwaving it was wrong. As long as he distracted her for a few moments, he could make the call.
He picked up the phone, but was met only by the harsh ring of a dial-tone. He sighed, opened the phone book all over again, and started entering the number one digit at a time.
This time he didn’t get four numbers in before the strange force pulled him back again. He tried to hold onto the phone, but the force was much too strong. The receiver slipped from his fingers, banging against the floor. He settled to a stop facing the baby again before the glow faded.
That was the first time he felt afraid. There was nothing he could do to stop her from manhandling him. Despite her size, she could drag him around the room without even trying. “Hey, baby… it’s okay.” He patted her again, nudging the glass of milk towards her. “I got you food, see?”
She squealed in annoyance, knocking it into the sink again. “No? What do you want me to do? I’m…”
She started crying, shrill and echoing. If anyone else had been home with him, they’d know exactly what he’d done. But maybe that was a good thing… Kyle was in over his head again.
“Hey, hey. Settle down.” He scooped the little horse-thing into his arms, cradling her as best he could. He wasn’t quite big enough to make it work the same way he would’ve for an actual baby, but he did his best. “It’s okay, kid. I’ll… get this taken care of, somehow. I just need to call in someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
But this time, his attention wasn’t enough. She cried louder, squirming a little in his grip. She wasn’t actually trying to kick her way free, she was just unhappy. She screamed louder, and the mug sitting in the sink actually shattered. “Hey, hey…” He patted the baby on the back, hurrying through the old house. How much mud he might spread if she got loose was no longer the first thing on his mind. He needed a real phone. Maybe he should just call the police and get this over with.
“It’s gonna be okay.” He made his way all the way to the third floor, where the ancient guest wing was tucked away beside attics packed with dusty old furniture. His door hung open, into his oversized bedroom. He’d still somehow found a way to cover the floor with dirty laundry, though the space was big enough for several kids’ bedrooms all packed in close together.
The baby wasn’t quieting down this time. If anything, she only grew more frustrated as he moved. Finally she struggled free, kicking out of his arms.
She didn’t fall, but hovered in the air, her wings flapping much too slowly to actually hold her there. She hovered in defiance of gravity, wide eyes scanning the room around him.
But whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it, and she only cried louder.
“I’m sorry!” he said, trying to speak over her tears. “I’m trying to help you! I don’t know what you want!”
Her eyes focused on him again, and for the first time she didn’t seem afraid. He shuddered as he saw her expression—that determination and anger, all focused on him. He felt the force of her attention, like a laser aimed straight at his chest. Was this where he got his neck twisted like a pretzel and he died on the ground, because he’d been too stupid to realize he was in over his head? Hopefully she crawled out again before his family got home.
But it wasn’t that kind of force. The pressure holding him in place faded in time with a different sensation, a heat like an irresistible fever. Pressure built against his skin, a little as he imagined a small animal might feel if he stuck it into a microwave. So no, the baby wasn’t going to break his neck—he was going to explode. “Please…” he begged, dropping to one knee, clutching at the dresser for support. “Don’t kill me. I’m t-trying… to help…”
The pressure was too much. It wasn’t just his mental fortitude that could handle no more—his body itself was coming apart. In a single glorious flash of light, he burst apart.