Pestilence rubs his temples. “He’ll be alright,” the horseman insists to me, dropping his hand.
I nod, biting the insides of my cheeks to keep my composure.
“Before you go,” Pestilence says. “I have something for you.” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a piece of paper and holds it out to me. “This is the address our families are staying at. Our plan is to take Ben there, where my wife Sara and the others will take care of him.”
I take the paper from him and I stare down at the address. My heart hammers at how hopelessly far away it is. That’s a good thing, I remind myself, even though right now, all I notice is that it feels half a world away from me.
Then the rest of what he said catches up to me. “They will take care of him?” I ask. “What about you and the other horsemen?”
Pestilence’s face is grim. “We’re going to come back for you and Death.” His face darkens. “Hopefully by then, Thanatos will have changed his mind about his task, but if not …”
If not, then Pestilence and his brothers will have to stop him themselves. I don’t think that option will end well for any of them.
Pestilence looks off at the horizon behind me. “You need to go. We have to start riding to put as much distance between us and Death as possible.”
I nod, backing up. My eyes keep moving to Famine. He’s pulled himself onto his saddle, Ben in front of him. My tiny son is going to be riding on a horse.
Icy panic claws its way up my throat, and it takes an obscene amount of effort to force it back down.
Ben is still distracted from the fact that he’s no longer in my arms, and that’s thanks to the Reaper, who has grown a vine up his very patient horse’s leg.
A white flower unfurls right in front of Ben, and though the sight of it is unbelievable to my eyes, my son is unfazed, plucking the bloom immediately, then inspecting it with a serious expression before beginning to pick off its petals one by one.
Panic stirs inside me, and without thinking, I cross over to my son. Reaching up, I smooth a hand down his face. “I’ll see you again soon, Ben,” I promise. “Stay safe, my heart.”
My son looks at me and smiles; he holds out his mutilated flower and shows it off.
I press my lips together to keep from losing it, then back up several steps.
Famine turns to me, his eyes stony.
“Lazarus,” he says softly. “Don’t forget your end of the deal.” His words are laced with menace. “Suck him, fuck him, do whatever shit gets that brother of mine off, but remember that everything is resting on you now. Everything.”
Chapter 37
Orange, Texas
July, Year 27 of the Horsemen
My apartment feels like a tomb. It hurts to look at the leftover diapers and clothing sitting in a pile on the floor—one of them the very diaper Ben was so recently playing with.
Perhaps what’s worse than seeing that pile is recognizing how pitifully small it is. Traveling often means traveling lightly, and most of my son’s things left with him.
Bending down to that pile, I grab a pair of socks that Ben has already outgrown. I tuck those into one of my pockets, pressing my lips together to stop myself from getting too emotional.
He’s alive, I remind myself. That’s more than Death or the doctors could give me.
I move into my bedroom and grab my blades, strapping them to my thighs. Do I intend to use them on the horseman? No. Would I regret sinking one into his belly if the opportunity arose? Also no.
All those months of trying to raise a baby while looking over my shoulder, of having to drop everything and flee, they’ve more than stoked my anger. Add to that the fact that Death intends to collect my son’s soul tonight, and yes, I’d relish an opportunity to fight this horseman.
Of course, anger is not the only emotion I feel towards Thanatos. I wish it were. That would make everything so much easier. Instead, I have to deal with this insidious desire that smolders within me. And then there’s the fact that Thanatos didn’t wipe out this town last night.
I head to my front door and step outside of my apartment.
“Thanatos!” I call, my gaze moving over the neighborhood.
I wait for some response—a prickling against my skin, a feeling of being watched, that damnable silence—but there’s nothing. If the horseman has been watching me, it seems he’s taken a break.
I reenter my apartment determined to not just sit here and wait for him. I’d much rather draw him out like venom from a wound. And if I orchestrate this right, I’ll even be able to give his three brothers a head start on their travels.