There was nothing worse than a yellow sky. All the animals fled from it, heads shaking at the pressure dropped. The fields were barren in the copper afternoon, nearly every sheep corralled by the ranch collie. Little Tom tasted ozone in the back of his mouth.
He sat on top of Darling, his skittish paint, and his thighs quaked under the sea glass glow. Darling panted underneath him, her lungs expanding and contracting against his calves. He let a tobacco soaked sigh fall from his mouth. Together, they sounded damn near like a dog.
Though they called him little, he was corded with muscle and hulked over his horse. Tom could see the whole pasture from his vantage point on Darling, but he could not spot the loose pregnant ewe.
The horizon groaned. Darling smacked her hooves on the ground as the wind kicked up. Tom brushed a calloused palm over her black-splattered neck, a useless consolation. Her animal instinct, the very molecules of her being told her to turn around and take her rider back to the barn. But his eyes stayed on the skyline.
A flash of white wriggled, then dashed and grew smaller just ahead of the gate. Tom dug his heels into Darling and took off after it. The horse sputtered, fighting the urge to turn around, and then leapt into a canter. The ewe spun past the cleared grass and towards a thicket of forest, looming just beyond the clearing.
“We’ll get this one,” he assured Darling. “And then we’ll get home.” His hand twitched over the rope wound snug at his side. The two could practically smell the musk of the sheep as it disappeared into the black of the woods. They skidded to a halt.
A man decked in black work clothes emerged. He had a wide-brimmed hat perched on his head and his large hand clasped firmly in the wool on the ewe’s neck. Tom choked up on Darling’s reins, hardly able to keep her from bucking. The sheep blinked wide brown eyes under the man in black’s weight, stunned by the pallid fingers in its wool.
“It’s a bad idea to be out before a storm,” the man muttered. His eyes didn’t make an appearance below the tipped hat, but the heat from them radiated onto Tom’s chest.
“Just off after this here ewe, sir,” he said, voice quaking. He cleared his throat and dismounted Darling. The hairs at his neck stood on end. “Thanks for grabbing her,” he tacked on. “I should get back ‘fore the rain rolls in.” Tom fiddled with his rope.
“Not so fast,” the man’s hand clenched on the sheep and Darling chuffed hot breath onto Tom’s neck. Tom noticed that there was gold in his wicked smile. “I have a question for you.”
The clouds were angry now, thrashing the grass and the trees, whipping around the motley party. “With all due respect, sir,” his voice cracked, and he swallowed thick. “I don’t wanna be out in this weather longer than you do.” The ewe emitted a pittiful bleat, ducking its head to get away. The man only held tighter.
“What a shame,” his nasty grin grew fervored. “Why don’t I clear things up, just for a second?” He snapped his free hand, rings glinting on his thick fingers. The wind stilled, and the sky above melted, revealing flakes of blue beyond the clouds.
Tom’s eyes glazed. He couldn’t quite comprehend what had happened. The pieces didn’t fit together in his mind. Though the air pressure had been lifted, Darling still tossed her head, her hooves making indents in the soft grass. He started to speak, “What did you-“
“Just a trick of the light, Little Tom,” the man in black bowed his head, his own hat sucking the light out of his surroundings. “Now, I have a question for you,” he paused and stroked the ewe, which had gone docile. “Really, a proposition.”
“How do you know my name?” Tom asked, forcing the words from his throat. He moved closer to Darling’s side and gripped her reins. Every cell in his body told him to run, to get away from this strange man in black and his glinting amber eyes, his gold teeth.
The stranger barked a thick, heady laugh. “Would you like to know how you’re going to die, son?”
Tom’s chest held his breath captive. Cold sweat beaded, then trickled down his spine, lighting up his senses. He felt the urge to urinate, right then and there. “Who are you and why are you on this property?” he whispered, voice wavering.
“I’m a frend, I’m a blessing,” The man didn’t respond to his fear, speaking casually. He looked directly into Tom’s eyes as he continued, “But most of all, I’m a warning.”
Darling whinnied, high and anxious. Tom was just about shaking in his boots. “You ever heard of consumption, son? It’s gonna roll its way west soon, into your town.” The words bled into one ear and sputtered out the other.
“Sir, you oughta get off this property,” Tom whimpered. “My boss man will see you.”
“A lot of people with consumption have a slow, angry death, but don’t worry Tommy,” the man paused and spat onto the dark earth. “Your’s will be quick.”
Tom’s muscles clenched. “Whatever this joke is, it ain’t funny.”
“Oh no, son,” the man in black released the ewe and it stood there, motionless. “No jokes. You better get back before they start looking for you.” Tom tossed his rope around the sheep, fastening a knot around its wide neck. Darling was anxious to leave, and when he swung his leg on top of her, the sky exploded back into yellow-green, the wind picking up.
“I’ll see you soon, Little Tom,” the man whispered through the whipping air, and then turned and decended into the dark forest.
The sky was a yellow eye above Tom and his animals. He kicked Darling into a trot and the ewe followed heavy in their wake. A storm was coming, and they needed shelter.