From the Woods: The Onyx

By Kira A Stoyko

Dakota Stieber is at the top of her game in the horse riding world running a business with her father, heading a premier team, and entering college on an athletic scholarship. Despite suddenly plagued by odd feelings and unsettling events she continues life as usual. This changes drastically when she sneaks into an all-male fox hunt with her father and four of her closest friends. In chase, the riders quickly realize they are not alone in the woods that day and face dire consequences. Dakota manages to escape but finds herself stranded and alone. In the face of grave fear she re-enters the woods and is rescued by a young police officer who aids in her recovery and establishment of a new life. Attempting to return to a normality she is soon deeply haunted by the grave fate of the others, learning it was meant for her as well. Now she is forced to figure out how to conquer and put right what they had met in the woods before she loses even more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477115800

Kira A Stoyko

Kira Stoyko is a published poet, but this is her first publication of length. Growing up in Virginia she rode horses most of her life and is a graduate of The University of Maryland, Baltimore County. Although and avid world traveler she is currently residing in Baltimore.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

L eaving my house on my bike I get a warm and nostalgic breeze of emotion with the familiar feeling of my tack pack rocking across my back as I pedal along the rocky dirt road that is my driveway. I’ve called Sara and Emily though not even the deepest slumber could have disrupted today’s alarm, because it’s time to ride. Turning onto the actual asphalt road I’m gliding along. I close my eyes a little and feel the wind in my hair.

My bike jumps and lurches violently with no warning. Luckily from the many times of being thrown off a horse I manage to abandon the death trap of the suicidal bike and tack pack and stay on my feet with an uncoordinated stagger. I shudder from the scare and shake my arms out, deep breathing to calm myself down. Confused and angry I turn around to see what I’ve hit. The bewilderment continues as I walk over and nothing but the bike is lying in the road. I kick my tack bag to see if something is hidden under it. Nothing. Further examination of the bag shows that there’re no loose handles or straps. Feeling like I’ve been punked I look up and down the desolate country road. I kick the dirt around on either side of the road hoping to find a rock or stick that flew off when I hit it. There’s nothing and I look at my bike; there’s no damage or evidence of hitting or running over something. I bounce the tires and check all the spokes but there’s no problem. I run my hand over my stomach as something feels off.

Taking a deep puffing breath I intertwine my fingers behind my neck. The breath turns to a gasp when I quickly shove my fingers down and around my neck and my necklace isn’t there. I rip off my jacket and un-tuck my shirt. My necklace is gone. It was my from my father’s grandmother and I haven’t taken it off since he gave it to me on my fifteenth birthday. My hands are shoving themselves haphazardly inside all of my clothes; but I can’t find it. A penny couldn’t hide in riding pants, let alone a necklace. Panic starts to set in as I scour the ground. In good competition as the strangest thing to happen this morning against the bike fiasco, I find the necklace on the road. I crouch down and look at it with suspicion. It’s calmly laid out as if carefully put there and not flung from my neck. My head turns and my eyes narrow. Snapping out of it, realizing I’m sitting in the middle of the road, I clasp it back around my neck and run my hand over it quickly.

I do a full body shake, hoping to rid myself of this whole thing, hoist my tack bag back over my back, and hesitantly get back on the bike. A now stiff air hits me. Making a stern face I arc my body back into momentum and carry on; this time more cautious.

I finish the bike ride of three and a half miles to the stables we’ve adopted as our second home. I smile, seeing that Sara, Emily, Heather and Val have beaten me there. They’re all mulling around the mouth of the tack room and carting supplies to the long post where we’ll soon be hooking our horses to. We could have picked you up. Val calls out to me, flipping her jet black hair into a pony tail. I wonder momentarily if we’ll ever know what her true hair color is. Right now it’s black. A few months ago it was red. It could be tie-dye and she could pull it off. She is drop dead gorgeous and her wit and flashy character only make her more appealing.

Working off the winter calories I grin as she makes a face at me.

After I park my bike against the barn we all drop and open our tack bags in near unison. Pulling out old and new gear we begin donning our tall boots and exchanging our jackets for jump vests and helmets.

Still slightly getting over the winter chill we puff warm breath into our fists and rub our hands together. Our thin riding pants are not to forgiving to the cold. Trying to shake off the odd feeling from the near catastrophe of the bike ride I look at Emily and see a joke to brighten me up.

Emily you’ve got some booty going on with those new pants. I laugh

They’re the insulated kind with the padded seat. She snaps as if expecting it You’ll be sorry when you have frostbitten calluses down there.

Ew, inappropriate. Val says as she fluffs her collar up and fastens her helmet.

Don’t let Kota get you down. Heather says Just because she’s only chubbed in the chest she thinks she can judge us.

I stand there in a laughing awe and Sara snorts loudly. There’s a break in our chatter.

Where’s my camera when I need it? Brad yells as he walks from the house, we boo.

Brad’s parents own the stables though he doesn’t love to ride the way we do.

Val takes my hand, spinning me like a dancer and taking me into the barn. I reach in my shirt and pull out the mix CD that was stashed in my sport’s bra. I made a mix to tack-up and warm-up to. As we call our tack-up tunes and I’ve been trusted to make the first day mix.

This is Epic. I say, motioning my hand around it as if were the crown jewels You have no idea; this is perfection.

She makes a face and puts it in the boom box. Before it even does the annoying warm-up hum there’s a sharp and high screech. We both jump but before we can pop it open to see if there’s something wrong with the CD starts playing.

I guess that’s what we get for not shelling out for an mp3 player. She says, sighing and picking it up.

Hey, I say, putting my hand out on her bicep to stop her and she flashes her eyes at me, knowing what I’m going to ask What’s gone on with your dad since I last talked to you. It’s been over a week; I was getting worried.

He’s come around again and he says he’s not leaving. My mom is falling for it again. She says with a dull voice and shifting her gaze to the ground. I swiftly stick my arm through all the lead ropes to hand them out, but stop to listen to her It’s only a matter of time before he gets all the money and I’m living off purses again. Unfortunately it’s not quite enough to emancipate myself.

Remember I’ve got some that’s not going anywhere. I say Anything you can get your hands on give it to me. They won’t be able to touch anything. We can talk about the emancipation; I don’t like seeing you around that.

She nods as I grab her head and kiss it. Her dad walked out on her when she was a kid but he re-surfaced to try to get money out of her and her mom. Every time I’ve talked to her in the last few months he was showing up wasted or strung out. He’s been extorting money out of her mom for over a year with blackmail and threats the police rarely took seriously. She gave me all the money from her show winnings and fast cash she gets as an on-call waitress for a catering gig to hold on to. I’d hoped for some kind of intervention for her and her mom to help them get him away and back on their feet even if it meant them moving somewhere else.

Before I can get another word in she winks at me as she dances out to everyone as I take an admiringly stare at her. I get a twinge in my chest when I see a small tear in her eye. Lead ropes and halters are being tossed out one by one. It’s like some kind of circus. I’m chucking all of them and they’re catching them with fluidity and speed unthinkable to a person who may stumble into our magic world. We’re inhuman when it comes to riding. From years working towards perfection anyone is hard-pressed to throw something our way we won’t tackle head first.

We all walk out to the paddock to bring in our horses. I close my eyes and breathe in the warm spring air as our formation breaks. I always have the least trouble bringing in. Everyone else has to casually sneak up behind their horse and throw the lead rope over their head while trying to grab it on the other side before the horse gets the better of them. I just have to stand there, take another breath of that warm air, stick my thumb in one side and pointer finger in the other, and whistle as loud as I can. Reinier, my horse, can hear it from anywhere in the world. Today I see his red body silhouette across the far hill as he tears through the landscape and crests over the creek. His coat defies definition. He is the reddest horse anyone has ever seen. His feet are black and the color blends and dissipates as it goes up his legs. He looks like fire though his most impressive feature is his tail. It’s half black and half pearl white that almost hazes sapphire when he flings it through the air and the sun catches it. Overall he is a stunning horse. He’s one of a kind and I can bring him in with a whistle because he’s as much of an athlete as the rest of us. He comes alive when he has to run and jump. Our mutual love of the sport is what sends us to the top. Neither of us would be half as good without the other. We’re inseparable.

I feel myself smile throughout my whole being seeing him coming to me. His habit has been groomed for years since we played with him as a baby and found out he would fetch halters and ropes.

Once the horses are in we continue to dance with ourselves as we tack up. All of our hands move fluidly over the equipment, knowing exactly what to do and where. We’ve ridden through the off months but now is the time for perfection and it is in all of our eyes and beings. It’s team time when we sync all our calendars to ride together. The crisp leather continues to glide under our fingers and stretch along with our muscles. The horses, now as energized as we are, waiting impatiently as we stretch for our rides. It is the official start of the season. Shows start in a little over a month, so it’s precision and perfection time. We have a lot to do until then if we plan on maintaining our standing as one of the premiere stables in the state. We are going to do it, not just because we’re in it to win it, but because we live and breathe this.

Before we ride, girls, I have a few announcements. Brad calls, trying to act professional.

We giggle as we sprawl on the mounting block, entangling our small limber bodies.

This, I proclaim, is the official start of the season he adds still with the tone of professionalism

We all cheer and I feel my heart jump inside my chest, knowing what’s coming and knowing I want every bit of it.

The show schedule will be posted by the end of the week he says there will be another three week marathon. This elicits a universal grown and he regains his composure when we’re done throwing out random complaints. He gives one last smile as we calm down and I’m sure to the pleasure of all—I have been promoted from rider to driver and manager so it’s going to be just us on the road, no parents but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep you in line. However, this does open a spot up on the team, suggestions go to me. The opening Bar-B-Q will and parade are highly suggested to all. We show it and shake it to get fans. Unofficially I will be making club runs as the opportunities arise, take that into consideration ladies. Training sheets are mandatory and will be posted inside the barn, outside the office. Chore schedules will also be there. As for the parade I expect the sixth person to be there! Too conclude I want to wish everyone a good season and if there’s going to be any cat fights over our new addition I want front row seats!

We boo and roll off onto the ground. Brad turns the tunes off and now has the luxury of riding the golf cart up to the main ring. Mounting our horses the leather groans under us and our muscles fall right into precision as we adjust into the positions we all know and love so much we can taste it. Riding courses through our veins as we strut up to the main ring. The first day of training always has the same feel, the same electricity in the air; from the mixing sounds of the squeaking leather underneath us to the smell of the fresh dirt grinding beneath the massive beasts we atop.

Of course we all ride year round, but it’s the month or so before show season that we get our rears into gear and start hard training together. It’s a team we’ve made and sustained. We’ll all warm up together in the large, open, main ring. Brad follows us lazily in his golf cart, navigating the road and brushing his hands through the new spring grown straw. My stirrup feels odd and I slop my leg to the front of the saddle. I pull it up and look at it, but it’s set where it’s supposed to be. I snap it back in place with a swift pull, replacing the saddle cover and moving my foot back in but it feels fine. I shake my head and look up. My vision blurs and everyone looks like a hologram for a second. I run the heels of my hands over my eyes and look again. Everything is fine. I shake my head while Renier shifts. Brad turns around and gives me an odd face.

Kota of all people do you need an engraved invitation. Brad calls back to me. I take a deep breath and smile, trotting up to and past him. I make Reiner skip as I pass Brad to give him a little jolt. I hear him gasp and I flatten back over the saddle and stick out my tongue and giving him a funny face.

CHAPTER 2

W ith the number of us in the ring we have to call out what move we’re making, ‘Val I’m trotting a quarter circle to your left, Emily I’m turning so don’t.’

So who’s the newbie going to be? Sara asks once Brad parks

Before we start bickering, lets list our options Emily blurts out

Good call I say, Brad, hit it!

He sighs, sitting back nipping on a fresh piece of straw, staring into the sun as if the answers were written there. I smile but the sun moves quickly across his face and I glance in the air. His well trimmed blonde hair—which has a hint of product—glimmers in the light with his pale skin that will soon be bronzed by the summer. I’m sure he’s going to relinquish team captain to me and we have a good chance at making all around state for the first time in years. We’re one of Virginia’s top stables.

At this barn we are looking at Chad, Bethany, Buzzy and that girl Lori who Kota’s been training… I hear there’s a girl that just moved here and rides over a Summer Hill. Maybe we could coax her over… That’s it I think. Everyone else isn’t good enough or won’t budge from where they are…

I don’t know about you guys Heather says, but I’m not living in a small space with Buzzy for three weeks

Agreed We all say together

Bethany can certainly own her own Sara says, then starts laughing However, she’s totally from Jupiter because she acts like she’s on her period every other day and walks around like God is HER gift to the world

We enjoy a communal laugh; when I hit my signature deep laugh everyone laughs even more. There are a dozen or so people who ride at our barn and enjoy having the name; but it’s the elite few of us that run the place and of course keep and make that name. My heart warms a little that Brad mentioned Lori because he’s obviously noticed I’ve been training her well.

As I hear it Ms. Bethy keeps her eyes more on the guys than the prize. Val says winking at Brad who coughs a couple times as his cheeks blush

Chad’s good on the flat stuff, but he looks like a gofer when he goes over anything higher than three-six I say, cracking up We should look at this girl at Summer Hill, but Lori gets my vote if she doesn’t work out.

There’s a universal groan and I get defensive.

She’s only been riding two and a half years and she’s only jumped, what, two and a half feet? Val counters with a crinkled nose.

3’9 last week so she could be a Level 4 jumper straight out. I boast for her and showing that I’ve planned and thought this out The girl’s smart, she picks up quick on things, she won’t give lip or refuse chores. I can assess her with any of you by the end of the week. She’ll do it.

Can’t be too smart if she’s picking up chores Emily mutters

Isn’t she a straight-A student? Heather asks, I’m not spending three weeks with Einstein.

She has a lot of potential. I sing, trying to coax them

Hello! Val yells, We are keeping a rep here! We don’t need potential, we need talent and experience

Showing off, she lifts herself into a vaulting position. Vaulting is best described as dancing gymnastics on horseback done only with a girth and large saddle pad.

She does have talent! Emily snaps, I’ve seen it and Val, you better get some smarts right now before you slip on that leather and this conversations ends because we need two more people.

Val frowns as sits down

Val, Kota—you come with me to see the Summer Hill girl. I’ll call them today. If we don’t like this girl or she doesn’t want to come then we’ll go to Lori Brad says in a call to peace

We all nod in approval.

Alright Brad says Heather and Sara start with the flatwork. Emily take the North jump course and Val and Kota you two get your psychic on and take the South jumps. We break in 40 and rotate.

With a single clap we’re off.

Talk is cheap, girls. Let’s ride! Val yells as she breaks from the main ring and heads into the open field littered with jumps and hazards.

Emily and I break with her and start heading around jumps. Emily is alone only because Val and I know each other’s patterns so well that we move smoothly to our assignment. Jumping is my favorite feeling in the world. I live for that feeling right at the peak where you’re flying; you’ve left the ground and all the energy has been exerted and you’re either going to make it or not and the breath just catches in your throat as you’re moving in synch with the horse and it sends chills through your body when you feel his haunches rise beneath me and you know we’ve cleared it. Training anyone I say it’s about flying and not jumping. Everything has to be right and in sync and it should be about defying rational laws not just hopping over something. I drool over it and Reinier never misses. Brad lazily leaves the comfort of his golf cart to adjust the jumps for us. I hit a high one and he shakes his head with a grin. He knows I’m going for team captain

Hey Dakota Val yells to me, Whadaya say to a walk in the woods?

Why walk when you can run? I yell back as we break for the south trail. I get a glimpse of Brad as we turn. He’s thrown his arms in the air that he set up the course for us and we’re killing time on a trial. There are cross country hazards in some places so it’s not a complete loss.

Reinier snorts and knows exactly where we are going. We have an understanding, Reinier and I, he feels me and I feel him. We do great in dressage which is all about how you use just your body and movements to control the horse and it’s all about the understanding and relationship you have.

There’s a haze going into the woods that makes me hesitate, but Val dives through and it disappears. I blink my eyes again, trying to shake off the weird occurrences of the day.

Val and I race through the trails because we know Sam [Brad’s dad] clears them before we tackle them too hard. Running in the woods is like flying; it’s an amazing feeling. We laugh together as our bodies move along with the gate of our horses. We jump logs and duck under trees. The other girls don’t like the cross country stuff, but Val and I eat it up. Sure stadium jumping and dressage are challenging and enjoyable, but the eventing that calls us. It’s one more thing that bonds Val and me together, we are closest within the group.

We scream as we hit a mud puddle and it splashes a lovely layer of mess all over us just before we break from the trail. Leaving gives us a burst of energy only attainable from doing what we love the most. Brad’s at a far off jump where we first went, pointing at his watch.

CHAPTER 3

T he trail brought us out across the field from everyone so I canter along and wonder exactly where to go. Brad makes eye contact as he backs up from setting a jump. He puts his hand in the air and pumps his fingers to five, closes his hand, and puts up two. He set the jump to 5’2. He’s pushing me to a higher level. It’s tall; but he knows I can’t resist. We both smile as he starts making air traffic controller motions to me and towards the jump. It seems to be a joke at first; but I notice he’s actually pointing to places for me to line up and get my gait. I go for it and Reinier skips a few times as I adjust with him and send him my signals, adjusting his gait for the high jump.

I take a breath, relaxing back to get the momentum and coil like a spring and start to push myself up into point. That’s when I see it; just a split second after Reinier does and just at the wrong moment of me pushing up. A big black snake is coiled at the base of the jump. Reinier cries out and I see the white of his eyes, which means I have no time to emergency dismount before he fully spooks. He screeches to a halt and I can’t stop myself from already thrusting my whole body forward. I close my eyes to save myself the trouble of knowing exactly how much this is going to hurt. All I can do is try to stay relaxed. I’m launched out of the saddle and my leg hits the back of his neck as he rears back, turning me upwards. I flip forward and catch the vertical standard of the jump with my side. All the boards and poles for the jump and I clatter to the ground. I land on my back, my shoulder striking a downed pole as I skid a ridiculously long amount of time until I come to a complete stop. Reinier has already taken off across the field. At least he didn’t trample me… I cough, desperately trying to pull oxygen back into my lungs and assure myself that I’m not dead.

All I can do is wince and let out a slight shuddering whimper, rolling over and coughing.

Off the horses and hold them; stay where you are. Em, get Renier, now! Brad yells as he braces to sprint over to me. With him and Renier running all the horses could spook.

Everyone jumps down and sends concerned looks. Emily, our Western Rodeo-go, takes off after Reinier and corrals him, jumps off and holds him and her horse. Brad is poised to run as soon as she gives the call. With chaos on the field if he starts running it could spook any or all of the horses. I see him rocking back and forth in a running stance so he can get to me.

Everyone’s down! Horses held! Brad, go! Emily yells back so Brad can finally run over to me.

Kota! Brad says skidding down beside me. He opens my light jacket and unzips my jump vest in an attempt to make it easier to breathe and for him to look me over What the hell happened!?!

I rip my helmet off and let out a short gasp. He throws his hands up briefly because I’m breaking his protocol by removing my helmet before assessing for a possible neck injury.

I’m ok I say sitting up carefully and achily, Just my shoulder. It was a snake. I just need to catch my breath…

Everyone comes over as Brad checks me carefully. He picks the grass and dirt out of all of my clothes and helmet to see if any of it is damaged that would infer damage to me.

With a notable grimace I’m able to get up and shake it off. I look at the actual board I broke and the long scrape in the grass and dirt that my body carved as I slid. Apparently anything can be turned into a slip-and-slide when you’re going fast enough, even if it’s the sparse grass on the clay soil of Virginia. Still getting my bearings I see everyone walking over to us with concern painted all over their faces. I can’t believe I just ate dirt on start day.

That was quite a wipe out. He says, brushing me off and still looking for any major or minor injuries Take down with your jump vest off.

Brad’s done every after-school or community college course from physical therapy and injury treatments to masseuse and muscle manipulation to becoming an EMT ever since he was old enough. He was always interested in medicine; and now gears towards making sure he can scoop us off the ground and assess if we’re injured before he puts us back in the game.

I’m ok. I’m ok. I say brushing myself off and pushing his hands away.

I turn and catch his eye. He’s serious. I take my vest off and wince when I lift my undershirt up, bringing me down to a sports bra and tank top. From the fall and the chill of the air I’m starting to really shiver.

See! he says, responding to my grimace and helping me disrobe. The jump vest I can shake off easily so he can start poking and prodding. I yelp when he hits my right shoulder. Without consent he lifts my shirt up and I let him without protest.

Rotate your shoulder. He says and I comply How’s it feel?

I’m alright. I have almost full motion. I say, nodding a now scrambled mind and flexing a traumatized body I’m good. I’m good. Put me back up there.

Brad gives us all a leg up back onto our horses.

Fall off, get back on Brad says, clapping That’s how we do it. Get back to work and always be careful. Kota, think you can jump any more today?

I hesitate and wince as I rock in the saddle and assess my balance.

Give me a couple and then put me on flat work for the day. I say

We’ve all fallen before, but not the first day of training… It’s equated with a champagne not breaking on a boat while a black cat crosses you while standing under a ladder and stamping on a mirror. It’s major bad mojo. I canter around and do a couple small jumps because my shoulder hurts like hell, letting every swear word slip in pain and frustration. Brad switches me back to flat work.

I walk back to the barn at Brad’s encouragement and we all prepare to turn the horses back out. Brad reaches out for Renier’s reins in exchange for a bag of ice then motions for me sit on the mounting stage. I just stare off into space.

You ok? Val asks, walking over and trying to read my thoughts. If anyone could it would be her. She’s a sister to me. We’re always with each other no matter how crazy she gets sometimes.

I get a twinge in my chest and jerk forward.

What the hell was that? she asks It looked like your chest just farted.

I don’t know. I say sitting there and massaging it, unsettled by another weird thing today I don’t get it. Brad was just there… We were right there before we went into the woods. What kind of snake stays in a place so close to a person in the middle of five individual tons of beasts pounding the ground for the past 20 minutes? They scatter. It’s weird. Today has been so weird.

Maybe it was a shadow she says, All horses just spook sometimes, even Reinier. Wait, what about today?

I don’t know… I say, trailing off a little bit I started off great when I crashed my bike on the way here.

What? she says loudly, then looks around and lowers her voice knowing people would freak out about it. Are you ok? Was it bad? What the hell do you think you were doing taking something that high if you were hurt?

It wasn’t bad. I say, shaking her off calmly The wheel just jammed up or something. I didn’t even fall I just kind of bailed off. I don’t know; my head wasn’t right today.

It’ll be fine. She says holding both my shoulders then putting her arm around me and nuzzling my neck.

It wasn’t, but I nod. My breast bone pangs again and it takes everything in my not to react to it.

CHAPTER 4

H ey mud-buckets, Brad says grabbing our legs and jerking us off the mounting stage. We need to make a pretty enticing folder for tomorrow. I just called and they say she’s training there every day. Kota, make sure there’s more hair than dirt on your head when we go.

I’ve got one started in my locker. I say, admittedly achily, as I walk to the barn. I turn back to Val and give her a stern look Call me. Tonight.

We add pictures, lists of awards, ribbons, rankings, trophies, etc that people like to see. We are a good sell. Brad being the entrepreneur he is has contacted all the photography clubs, high school or college, and they photograph us. They get to display their work and we get to keep pictures for advertisement. We’re going to make it to the top this year and if this girl is as good as we’ve heard it’s going to get there.

Before I leave I