“Charlie!” Imogen panicked. “I don’t have my tablets with me now!”
“After you overdosing, that’s …” I trailed off. “Oh, hell…! How are we going to treat your pain management? And your wheelchair…”
“…has got power for now, Charlie. But it’ll need recharging after a few hours!”
“And if this isn’t earth…, wh-where are we? Wh-why are we here? How do we get b-back!?” Robyn stuttered. She still had her mobile phone in her hand. “I rang for an ambulance – and I was giving the operator directions of where the paramedics needed to go… Then the light show started. And now there’s no signal!” She jabbed at the buttons for another couple of minutes – before pressing the End button and putting the phone into a pocket on her black lycra leggings. She kicked a nearby wall in frustration. “Uggh!”
The horses snorted, becoming restless as they looked around and sniffed the air. But I could see nothing moving. The town seemed still. Lifeless. Not even the sound of birds to be heard.
“How are you feeling, sis?” I asked her. “Any signs of a reaction to those pills?”
“None. I’m okay, Charlie. Honestly. Let’s look at the buildings. See if they tell us anything,” Imogen suggested.
“Right. Imogen – grab hold of the reins and stay here. Save on your chair’s power,” I put to her. “Robyn can look along one direction of this street – whilst I check out the other. We stop after five minutes – then head back here. If you start to feel ill, yell for us! How does that sound?”
Imogen and Robyn agreed – and so I walked westward along the street, whilst Robyn hurried in the opposite way. Well, I was walking towards the setting sun – so I assumed that it was west…
I checked my mobile phone as I made my way. No internet signal. And so no map function to find out where we were. Turning my attention to the buildings, I could see that some of them had signs and displays. There was a place for hats, waist-length tunics and jerkins. Another that stocked curtains and drapes. A woodwork shop. A bookshop. But the lettering on the shops was not in English. If anything, the language looked rather like a mixture between Greek characters and symbols that I couldn’t identify. I also entered some of the shops, calling out – and hearing nothing but the sound of my own voice. A thin layer of dust on the counters and goods in each place. A bakery, where the bread had all turned bad with neglect.
As for the doors…
Seeing that time was up, I headed back onto the street and hurried back, to meet up with the ladies (both human and horse). I told them what I’d seen. Robyn nodded.
“Same for me. Nobody around. Seems that no one’s been here for years. Any perishable food’s gone off – but there’s canned food in one shop. Each building’s just a storey high. And the doors are…”
“…are tall and wide. With wide spaces for both customers and staff behind the counters to move about,” I finished for her, nodding. “They’re not built like our shops. They’re big enough for…, Well, for horses to walk into and move around in,” I added, glancing at Citrine and Jade.
“Another thing,” Robyn added. “I saw a shop selling bras and crop tops. But no knickers…”
I snorted, wondering why Robyn was looking disturbed. Then it hit me. “And I found a shop selling hats, tunics and jerkins…” I muttered, sobering up. “No clothes below the belt…”
“There does seem to be a shop selling coats…,” Imogen pointed to a nearby building. “Horse coats, that is…”
***
Some minutes later, Robyn, Imogen, and myself were inside one of the shops, using our pocket torches for light, having just found some tinned meat and a can opener. Plus some plates and bone-handled cutlery in the kitchen of the living quarters that backed onto the food shop. In the interim, as our party of three humans and two horses wandered along the adjacent streets, we’d found some other discoveries. The grimmest being the remains of a large cremation pit in the centre of a nearby town square, with only mounds of ashes left of what might have been the town’s former residents. A wooden sign was planted in one corner. But what was presumably a list of names of those cremated was written in the same bewildering language as those on the shop fronts.
Thankfully, there were more positive finds too. A clear stream for all five of us to drink from – and an apple orchard that seemed to be open access, not private property. The trees looked as if they needed caring for, but there were still some apples – enough for Jade and Citrine and us humans.
There was a toilet at the back of the building. But it clearly wasn’t designed for a human being. The wide shed contained a broad metal drainage chute that acted as the lavatory. There were no urinals or toilet seats… So, Robyn and I worked together in order to assist my sister, before using one of a set of hand brushes to clean her up – given that there was no toilet paper present. Then I pushed the reseated Imogen back into the house whilst Robyn did her own business.
As we re-entered the kitchen, Imogen placed a hand on mine. “Thanks brother. Um… My upper back’s just been tingling. Could you take a look underneath my blouse?”
“Ur… Okay.” I waited until Imogen had unbuttoned her blouse from the top – enough for me to pull aside the material and see her upper back. Then I stiffened. I felt the skin in between her shoulder blades.
“Yikes! That tickles, Charlie! Wh…? What is it?” Imogen asked, as she looked back and saw my pale face.
“I don’t believe this… Stay still a mo’, sis,” I muttered. Thinking fast, I pulled out my Smartphone and took a picture of the area. Then I showed her the image. Imogen gasped as she saw a streak of short russet hairs beginning to grow downwards along her spine from her neck.
“It’s a like a… A…m-!” She didn’t complete the sentence. Instead she trembled – and I trembled too, as I held her tight, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the ever-growing number of bizarre happenings.
“What’s going on, Charlie?” Imogen quivered.
“I don’t know. I wish there was someone here to tell us…,” I managed to reply. “And help us to get back home…”
***
A little later on, between us, Robyn and I gathered some firewood that was still in a shed in the back garden, before we got the wood burner working once more. Just as well that Imogen thought to dust it first. We still got some dust burnt off, though.
Whilst we had been in the woodshed, crouched down to pick up broken pieces of wood, I saw Robyn slump against one wall and rub her forehead.
“Robyn? Are you okay…?” I dropped my bits and came over to her.
“I don’t know, Charlie. Maybe it’s the shock of what’s happened, but… I feel like I part of me is waking up from some dream, strange as that sounds. I feel I need to look at this again…” And, reaching into a pocket of her jacket, Robyn pulled out her small purse. From it, she retrieved a passport-sized photo of her – one that I’d often seen of her before.
She turned the paper image size and gasped. “Charlie… Look! I-I can’t explain this… I swear that I was alone when I had that photobooth picture taken.”
I took the photo from her. My eyes widened as I held my torch to the image. Instead of Robyn alone smiling at the camera in the photo booth, her image was now also embracing a blurred white shape who seemed to be hugging her back. Someone who was the size of a child. But Robyn and her ex-husband never had children…
***
Finding some cups in the living quarters at the back of the shop, we tested the taps in the kitchen. To our surprise, there was still a flow of cold water. Decent drinking water. Despite my worry over her, Imogen managed to drink a little.
Finishing our basic meal, Robyn and I were started by the neighing of the horses. I offered to go outside to the front, where we’d tied their reigns to the pair of trees just outsides. Robyn elected to watch over Imogen.
Back in the evening air, the temperature was slowly dropping. I wondered what season it was here. The sky was cloudy, but the breeze was mild. Spring perhaps. Then I saw that Citrine had started to drop excrement. She was agitated.
“Hey girl! What’s wrong? I know you’re a gentle mare,” I said to her, trying to calm her down, as I stroked and patted her. “Look, you’ve made a mess on the concrete of the street! Let’s free you so that you can do your business on this stretch of grassland just here…”
“Ch- Ch-ar…”
I froze, then peered at our pony. Did Jade just try to say my name? I shook my head in disbelief. With all that had happened, my nerves were so on edge and I was starting to jump at shadows. She must have snorted, and I had mistaken the sound for rough human speech.
But as I walked Citrine over to the grassy square at the nearby junction, I smelt more horses close by. Turning to face upwind, I was started to see two shapes cantering along the new street towards us. Then there was galloping along the street our base was situated on. Two more shapes there. Somewhat smaller. Younger ones. I spun round, glimpsing the smoke from the chimney of the shop. We had alerted them! Then, as they got closer, I saw that the newcomers carried a torch in each of the two groups. Not like our electric torches – I mean fire-lit ones. And by the light of the flickering flames, I could see that we were NOT facing horses and riders…
I froze on the spot, my jaw hanging open, unable to speak. My eyes were playing tricks on me… They had to be. But, it made sense, considering the design of the houses, the toilets, and the selective range of clothing in the shops…
“Charlie!” Robyn burst out of the shop from the just-slammed open front door. “I need you inside! Right n- What!?” She changed track as she followed my now-pointing hand, and the nervous gaze of Citrine, as I gestured towards the two incoming parties.
“C-c-entaurs!” I stammered. “As in that p-painting I un-unwrapped!”
And now that my hand had let go of her rein, in order to point, Citrine reared up in fright, neighing. She turned and bolted off, before I could stop her.
“Y-you’ve scared her!” I yelled at the newcomers, my anger clashing with my nerves.
“Don’t worry! I’ll retrieve your horse,” one of the two boy centaurs declared boldly – the one whose equine half seemed to be of a Turkoman breed. He immediately galloped off.
“No, Jeremy! Some of the buildings that way are not safe. I warned you…,” the light-brown Criollo stock centaur stallion bellowed.
“I will accompany Jeremy, Icaro! You see to the new halflings. The female human is distressed,” the other adult centaur – a mare with the physique of a fit Chinese-looking woman, with short, spiky, black hair, called out. She was an Australian Waler, going by her slick dark-brown coat and sturdy build. Then she was off – making her way with pounding hooves along the main street where first Citrine, then Jeremy, had vanished along.
The adult male centaur, of Latin American ethnicity in his human half, turned back to me and Robyn. “Apologies for startling you. When we saw the smoke from the chimney, here, myself and Kimberley came as soon as possible…”
“Explanations later!” Robyn yelled. She turned to face me. “Imogen is starting to have a fit, Charlie!”
I cursed. Then faced the two centaurs still with us. “My sister – Imogen – has taken too many of her tablets. She’s having a delayed reaction! We need medical assistance. Now! Can you help us – please?”
Icaro blinked, taken aback. Then he snapped into action - barking orders to the remaining young centaur, who seemed to be on the cusp of twenty. He had a mop of strawberry-blond hair.
“Tim – find Maggie and your intended. Bring them to the church, fast as you can!”
“On it, Icaro!” Tim turned his equine body around. His markings were strange. Despite my wide knowledge of horse breeds, I couldn’t identify them. Soon, he galloped off back along the side road from whence he had arrived.
“Your other horse is secured – yes? Then you two, take me to this Imogen. Whilst we wait for our trainee nurses,” Icaro pressed us. And so, soon we both led our strange arrival through the shop and into the wide living room behind it. To find Imogen thrashing in her chair, her arms jerking about, as if she was beginning to have an epileptic fit. The male centaur grabbed one of her hands. Recovering his wits, he felt my sister’s face and felt her temperature – whilst I stepped in to steady Imogen and checked her eyes against the low light of her torch that she had placed on a nearby table.
“No, Imogen! Stay with us! Don’t go!” I began to sob.
Then Icaro, feeling my sister’s back, quickly unbuttoned the top of Imogen’s blouse and pulled the top of her blouse down. Enough for me and Robyn to see that the growth of russet hairs on Imogen’s spine was now much more pronounced. Not only were the individual hairs longer, we could see that they were growing from all along her exposed spine.
“They’re spread since you took that photo that you then showed to me, Charlie!” Robyn gasped.
“Check her ears,” suggested a new voice. We turned to see another adult male centaur trotting into the living room. This one bore the white-coloured lower body of an Icelandic horse. A rare purebred. He had a neat cut of white hair on his head – and was as fit-looking, as his companion. In contrast to the neat goatee beard of Icaro, the latest arrival bore a thin white moustache. And whereas Kimberley seemed to be in her late twenties in her human face, and Icaro would have been somewhere in his thirties, the white centaur looked to be a distinguished man in his mid-fifties. If you ignored his lower half, that was.
White-fur saw the look on the faces of myself and Robyn. “I am called Darwin,” he announced himself, appropriately speaking with an Australian accent – despite his equine breed coming from the opposite side of the world. “But we’ll save further introductions until later. Check the outside of your friend’s ears.”
Robyn pushed aside Imogen’s thick curly hair that was covering her ears, and sucked in her breath, her eyes wide as she glanced between Imogen and the centaurs. I did the same. Even as I watched with disbelief, the pinna of each of Imogen’s ears were slowly developing points at the tops – rather like Mr Spock in Star Trek, or the Elves in the Lord of the Rings films.
“What the hell…!?” Robyn exclaimed.
Darwin nodded. “As I thought… She’s about to be blessed by our goddess, Icaro. We had best hurry to the local church!”
“I agree, Darwin. Epona – I pray for your guidance in this moment of need!” Icaro roared, seemly at the ceiling, as he quick-trotted in and lay himself down, equine stomach rested briefly upon the stone floor “Release her from her contraption, and help secure her on my back! Use the rope I have in my satchel here, to bind her waist to mine. That way, she will not slip off me whilst I hurry. I sense that our goddess is best placed to assist you – but we need to head to the nearby church that has been restored by us.”
“Hold your horses…!” I began, as Robyn first hesitated – but then obeyed Icaro’s instructions. In spite of the situation I heard my cousin snort at my choice of words.
“Hold your horses?” Darwin intoned, as he and Icaro frowned at me. “Is that a saying of yours? Both Icaro and I were indeed horse-born. But we are now centaurs.”
“Er… Sorry. Yes, it’s a saying – where I come from. But what I was about to say is that Imogen needs her wheelchair…!” I pointed out, even as I took in Darwin’s words. Horse-born…
“I sense that she will soon no longer have need of it,” Icaro muttered – his words striking me with dread. “Darwin – can you carry one of the other halflings? They have a pony outside, who can bear the other.”
Darwin considered me and Robyn. “Yes – if I travel slowly enough for them to hang on,” he answered. “It will still be quicker than you humans trying to make it on foot. Some of the walls in town have collapsed from neglect and exposure to the elements - and the church we have restored is in the area we’re trying to rebuild.”
I hesitated. “Ci-Citrine…,” I stammered. “She’s run off. She was scared by the arrival of the rest of your company. If this town isn’t structurally safe in places, then we have to…”
Darwin nodded sympathetically. “That’s not good. We have been in this town as a scouting party, for a couple of days – and we’ve detected signs of bears in the area. But let’s get as many of you as possible to our camp in the church hall. Then we will search for your missing horse. Right now, your Imogen is the priority!”
I had to agree with him. So, quickly checking the satchel that Imogen kept with her, on her wheelchair, and finding the family photo inside – I slung it over my shoulder. Robyn and I followed the centaurs outside.
Robyn’s eyes were on Darwin. “I’ll accept his offer of help, if you’re okay taking the pony ride, Charlie,” she muttered with the ghost of a smile. She pressed a hand to the side of Darwin’s waist, where his human skin merged into his short-furred equine trunk. She seemed momentarily mesmerised by the incredible creature offering his assistance to us – still getting to grips with the series of bizarre events that had overtaken us.
The Criollo centaur that was Icaro soon broke into a gallop with a still-twitching Imogen tied to him. Meanwhile, I quickly freed our pony, Jade, and swung myself onto her back as she obediently lowered herself. Soon, the three pairings of equine beings and human rider were off. Jade and I now at a canter whilst following Darwin and Robyn, who were in turn travelling in the wake of the dust cloud kicked up by Icaro…
Leaving behind just Imogen’s wheelchair in the building we had exited.