Sixteen

                                    

                                          
Hoof beats mixed with country music worked their way into Trace's dreams.
                          
Ew.
                          
She had been transported back nearly one hundred years, back to when country music was hitting it big in the world. How did she know that? There were heaps of teenagers around in checkered, flannel shirts and acubras. Scenes of sputtering black and white Westerns crossed her visions, mixed with the drawling yowl of a country singer. Floating objects, ranging from broken guitars to used neck-scarfs and boots, littered the air around her, buzzing slightly at the noise of the hoof beats.

                          
Trace glanced around, feeling her floating body spin in a circle. As far as she could see, there weren't any horses around- in fact, Trace couldn't see any animals at all.
                          
Unless you count that one, weird, just-appeared ghost stallion that's staring me down.
                          
It was made of a glowing, blue, translucent matter that swiveled and swerved in an invisible breeze. Short snorts of frosty breath came from its nostrils and a thin sheen of glittering sweat floated around it. Its eyes were frozen in a stare, dark blue and glimmering. Trace could feel a freezing cold radiating off its coat, penetrating through her floating body.
                          
Then it charged.
                          
The hoof beats echoing through the air escalated to a deafening roar, accompanied by the screaming of Trace as she turned and ran from the horse.
                          
She didn't know what was happening- she was just letting her instinct do the talking- until suddenly, she bolted upright and banged her head on the bunk above her.
                          
"Ow." She groaned,  reaching up to feel the knot forming on her forehead.
                          
"Bet you wished you'd let Ellie come now." Glint's voice was filled with held back laughter and teasing.
                          
"Ha. Ha." Trace grumbled, looking over at Glint and swinging her legs out from under the blanket. Glint was sitting across from her, on the bottom of the other set of bunks. She'd changed into a new set of clothes, an army jacket open over a grey top and cargo pants, finished off with brown hiking boots and her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, strands standing static in the already penetrating humidity.  

                          
 "You know as well as I do she couldn't stay. Besides, I'm tough as nails."
                          
Glint snorted. "Yeah right. You dissolved into a mess when we found out this place had WiFi and we could access the laptop we found."
"Just to be clear,  I did not dissolve into a mess!"
                          
"Ah-ha. Sure. Right." Glint laughed before standing up. "Here. I looked around after I woke up and found some sets of clothes. Might be too big for you," she said, studying Trace's build before kicking a canvas bag to her feet. "But look through them, anyway."
                          
Once Glint had left, Trace closed the door and emptied the contents of the bag on her bed. Inside were shirts, pants, a few pairs of heavy boots, some jackets and some extras, all in dark colours or army styled camo.  She rummaged through the pile for a few moments, settling on a black shirt, jeans with a few scuffs and rips, brown combat boots, a grey, hooded jumper and dark red fingerless gloves. Checking to make sure no-one was watching, Trace threw her ruined clothing off and changed into her 'new' ones. The shirt was three sizes too big, made to fit someone larger, so she wrapped the excess round her middle and tied it off. The shoes fit- surprisingly- as did the glove and jacket. The jeans, on the other hand, trailed on the floor, piling on top of themselves in endless rolls.
                          
That's not gonna work.
                          
She searched through the tiny cabinet and found a pack of disintegrated pills, two cigarettes, a lighter, a smashed glass cup and a small pocket knife. Taking it out of it case, she sliced the fabric roughly around the hem and began circling around. She did this five times and rolled them up into cuffs until, finally, she could walk without tripping over.  Staring out the window, she smoothed her hair down- unsuccessfully. Sighing, she pulled it into  ponytail with her last hairband, squinting at two figures on the horizon. 

                          
They were galloping towards the cabin, gradually inching closer and closer. 

                          
Literally.
                          
She could just make out the figures of a pair of horses. Brumbies? Cowboys? Aliens? Or the horse from my dream? Trace turned and walked out of the room and through the front door, stopping on the small deck to watch the horizon. The horses were gaining distance slowly but steadily, becoming slightly larger every few leaps.
                          
"You see 'em to." M's voice cut her thoughts into shreds.

                          
"What the-?" Trace yelled, jumping backwards and crossing her arms as her face turned the colour of cherries. "M? How long have you been there?"
                          
He laughed and leaned into the pane-less window. "Don't worry. I didn't see you change- I'm not a creep."
                          
"You'd better not have!" She growled, walking over to him and punching him in the cheek. 

                          
M staggered back a little, clutching his cheek. "OW! What was that for?" 

                          
"Just in case you were looking."

                          
"Well, I wasn't." He ran his tongue along his gum before spitting blood out of his mouth. "I think you split my mouth open."

                          
"Wimp."
                          
"I am not but I doubt you'd like to have blood in your mouth." He spat some more blood out before smiling, his teeth coated red in blood. "But back to the first question, you see them too?"
                          
"Yeah." She said, glancing over at him. His appearance had changed- again- this time to a boy with long, black hair, olive skin and green eyes. "Do you?"
                          
"Yeah."

                          
Wow. Blunt.
                          
"So, I'm not going crazy?" She asked him, squinting at the shapes.
                          
"No. But if you are, we're going crazy together."
                          
"Ha. Ha. You're so funny." Trace rolled her eyes but smiled back. "Sorry 'bout punching you. That was kinda uncalled for."

                          
"No biggie." M shrugged and pulled himself up, twisting his body so he was sitting on the ledge, facing Trace. "Guess we have to wait now, huh?"
                          
"Yeah." Trace agreed. 

                          
Her stomach growled, causing M to laugh and Trace to glance at the floor, embarrassed. 

                          
"You hungry?" He asked, standing up and stretching his arms, spitting out the window.
                          
"Yeah. You realise, if you do that, a zombie's gonna grow, right?"
                          
"Now you're the one being funny." M laughed and walked out of the room. "C'mon, let's go see what Glint's cooking us now."