“My son,” I say. “Is he okay?”
“Your son is fine,” Death says grimly.
For a moment, I’m placated.
Perhaps whatever mood has wormed its way under Thanatos’s skin is not so bad.
We continue to head north, passing one decayed building after the next, and things almost go back to normal—until we come to a stop.
Several skyscrapers loom over us, many of them missing windows. In between them are other multistory structures with weathered walls and peeling paint; all of it is crammed together like there wasn’t enough room to build so they had to squeeze themselves upwards. The road itself is relatively free of bodies and debris, though there is one overturned bicycle and a dead woman sprawled out next to it, and farther up the highway I can make out several more bodies lying on the road.
Behind me, Death hops off his horse.
I glance down at him. “Why did we stop?”
“I feel them coming,” Thanatos murmurs, staring northward.
A wave of trepidation rolls through me.
“Who?” I say, dreading the answer.
“My brothers,” Thanatos says, casting a grim look at the road ahead of us.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I thought we had more time.
“Then let’s go around them,” I say. I’ll explain my reasoning later. I just want Thanatos to get back on his horse.
“They intend to stop me,” he says, ignoring my words. “I will not let them get between me and my purpose.”
My blood goes cold, even as my heart begins to race.
“Your purpose?” I say, my tone light.
He turns to me now. “It is time, kismet.”
My brows pull together, even as my chest rises and falls faster and faster. “Time for what?”
Death reaches for the buckles of his breastplate and begins undoing them one by one.
“What—what are you doing?” I demand. I don’t mean for my voice to waver, but it does.
He continues removing his armor until every last piece of it lay at his feet. Then he tugs his shirt off, his eyes never leaving mine. “I never read to you all of my markings.”
Something is very, very wrong here.
I slip out of the saddle, my boots hitting the ground heavily. I swivel to Death. “What are you doing?” I ask him. “You’re not acting like yourself, Thanatos.”
Those mournful eyes meet mine. “I am acting exactly as I should be.”
He takes a step forward, his hand moving to his chest, his finger touching one of his many markings.
He reads it all in his native language. I understand none of it, but the power of the words sweep through me, making my knees go weak.
I back up as the horseman moves forward. He begins to translate.
“From the darkest reaches of the universe my form was forged. I am death, an end to all beginnings, a beginning to all ends. I am the one who can take the living and raise the dead. The one who can resurrect souls. I have unto me, all the powers of my forbears and that which ties the threads of creation fast.
“I am the last of my kind, and I bring with me every manner of malady to plague humankind. Their fields shall blacken, their creatures shall flee. Mortals will quake before my name and all will fall to my touch. For I will end the world.
“The buildings will break, the roads will be torn asunder. The world will unmake itself until every last remnant of man’s creation crumbles to dust. The brave will return to the soil, and the cowardly and cruel as well. And the barley shall grow wild once more, and the beasts of old may return to their lands. All shall be as it once was. For I am the heart of God, and I will carry out Her will. I am the last judgment of humankind.”
I have fallen to my knees and tears track down my face and I don’t remember crying or falling.
Death’s hand drops from his skin. “Do you know what happens once I have made my final decision?”
I can feel the world’s collective mortality hanging in the air between us.
“Why are you doing this?” I whisper.
“Do you know?” he presses.
I close my eyes and swallow. I have heard enough talk of the End of Days to know what he’s alluding to. He spoke of it himself only a moment ago.
“The Last Judgment,” I say softly.
The end of human life as we know it.
Chapter 69
Los Angeles, California
October, Year 27 of the Horsemen
Death
I gaze upon Lazarus, and I want to tell her this was never my idea. I take souls, but I’ve never hungered for their deaths. I’ve only ever carried out the orders I was given, from the very first death to this one.