HECTOR BAYES

I pulled heavily on the horse’s reins, barreling to a stop just as the first dollops of rain slapped heavily into the mass of my hair and the village girl turned to give me a surprised look. 

“Did you hear it too?” Nola whispered, her green eyes appearing darker in the sepia blackness.

”Don’t move.” I seethed, pressing the reins into her open palm and nodding when the girl shook her head violently.

The noise of the carriage wheels barreling to a stop behind us had her looking back again before I swung one leg over the horse’s pale, white rump to leap down to the dirt-covered path,...