“You guys, maybe we shouldn’t do this.” Joel’s frightened voice reaches me from the darkness.

I huff, annoyed that he keeps protesting. “Stop being such a baby, Joel Matthew Sayer. We’re doing this.”

The three of us stand in a row, our faces tilted up to look at the house in the shadows.

“They say it’s haunted.” Carson’s voice is firm, but I know we’re all thinking what he just said.

I wave him off. “It’s just abandoned is all. Let’s go.”

We all agreed that when we turned ten, we’d finally venture into the Horse Shack. It was the abandoned house that sat just over the property line of where houses could be built in Carova. One time, many years ago, a family had lived here before the association who helped the horses told them that no one could live this far out anymore.

And since then, it had grown into a rumor mill of its own. To some, it was haunted. To others, it housed the dead bodies of horses killed by other horses. I even heard one that said there was a secret trap door in the floor that led to a government lair.

It was all bullshit of course, and crap because if my dad heard me talking like that he’d wring my neck. But I wanted to do this. It lit up all of the wild and free choices I needed, and my sense of adventure was soaring.

Carson, Joel and I stuck close to one another, creeping into the shack quietly. It was dark, and we’d told our parents we were going to play on the beach. They’d also wring our necks if they knew we were on horse land, in the dark, with no flashlights.

A cricket or something sounds from the corner of the house as we enter, and Joel jumps. “What was that?!”

I hit him. My twin likes to act all tough, but he can never seem to sum up the courage like I can on these adventures. “Shut it, bozo. You’re ruining it.”

Carson laughs and I puff my chest out. Joel and Carson are usually the duo of the group, but it feels nice to have Carson paying attention to me for once.

We move farther into the house. There are torn drapes on the windows, and the floors have leaves and dirt all over them. We come to what must have been the kitchen; cabinet doors hang open and an unplugged fridge sits like a dead bug in the corner.

“Okay, this is creepy. But so cool.” Carson crosses the room, looking inside the appliance. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“I think that’s enough guys.” Joel wants to leave.

“Just a little more, promise.” I hug his neck to try and rub some of my curiosity off on him.

The floorboards squeak as we walk on them, and once we come to the stairs, I stop. “Do you think they’re safe?”

Carson doesn’t wait to question it, just runs up them. All I want to do is follow the boy who has more guts than I do.

With Joel tagging behind, we run up the stairs with urgency to see what’s on the next level. And when we do, we’re amazed.

“Wow.” Carson breathes as we look out at it all.

Something must have taken the back of the top floor off, because it’s like standing in a dollhouse that has no front. Probably a hurricane that ripped the shingles and siding clear off.

In that moment, I know we are witnessing something truly special. One of those once in a lifetime things Dad is always talking about.

The entire wooded area of Carova, sloping all the way down to the bay, presents itself to us like a shining medal in the dark night. Fireflies blink through the trees and brush, lighting up the landscape like a painting created just for our eyes. And down below, the horses roam. They’re out of view for everyone else, but from this angle, we can see their private Mecca.

“Look, there’s Bob!” Now Joel’s excited, since he can see his favorite stallion trotting over the ground below.

Packs of horses dot the scenery, some interacting with each other, and some off on their own, settling in for the night. The water in the bay laps at the shore, you can hear it from our perch just as well as you can in a conch shell.

“This place is sick, I don’t believe any of those stupid rumors anymore.” Carson sits down, his legs dangling over the edge of the floor that’s been ripped off with the back of the house.

“Me either.” Joel joins him and I roll my eyes. We practically had to drag him up here.

I sit too, and we watch in silence for the next half an hour.

“Let’s make this our fort. Only we know the password.” Carson looks at us and I have to bite my cheek from looking into his eyes for too long.

I’m not sure why, but lately I can’t help but look at him a little longer than I should. And I think … he’s been looking at me too.

“Deal. Only we can come here, no one else. No bringing outsiders.” I don’t want them bringing anyone here without me.

“Should we make a pact?” Joel raises his palm up. “With our blood?”

I roll my eyes again. “Me and you already have the same blood, stupid. Plus, we don’t have a knife. No … let’s just pinky swear.”

“Fine.” He sticks his tongue out at me.

We go through the ritual, locking pinkies one at a time and then kissing our thumbs and pressing them together. The tingling in my hand when Carson touches it is new; it’s something I’ve never felt in my short ten years. My body feels like it’s dancing and flying at the same time, and the butterflies in my stomach make me giddy.

“This will be our place forever.” His eyes lock on mine as he says it, and I have a feeling those words are only for me.