I grab my bicycle, then hop on.
Please have time. Please all be in my head. I alternate chants, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.
I don’t know which way to go; however, down the road I hear a dog yipping. I head towards the noise, panic seizing up my lungs. Five houses down, I hear the dog banging against a rotted wood gate, still baying. Riding all the way up to the gate, I grab the latch, then pause, readying myself.
I glance down at Ben, who has grown quiet as he peers around us.
“We got this, Ben,” I say to him, more for my own sake than his. “Neither of us is meeting Death tonight.”
I unlatch the gate and set the dog free. The creature immediately bolts down the street, and I ride after it. It tears through yards, cuts corners and plows through bushes and several times I’m sure I’m going to lose sight of the thing. But somehow, I manage to stay on the dog’s trail. The whole thing is a blur of adrenaline and instinct. But by the time the sun rises, Alexandria is far behind us and Ben is still alive.
Only then do I allow myself to process what just happened.
He’s hunting you. Perhaps Death never stopped.
And now he’s closing in.
Ben and I find a new city, a new place to stay, and I secure a new job. None of it is quite as comfortable as Alexandria, but I don’t blame that on the new place. My sense of security has been shattered.
With good reason, too. Not a month later, the devil nearly finds me again.
And again.
And again.
I move through Louisiana, then circle back into Texas. I’m afraid to live near the cities of the dead—I still have nightmares about Death’s revenants chasing Ben and me—but traveling east is a dead end, so to speak. Thanatos has wiped out too many swaths of the country over there. So instead, I force myself to head southwest.
If I can make it to the coast, perhaps Ben and I can get passage on a boat heading out to distant shores. And if we can’t, we’ll cut through Texas and head out West, where the land hasn’t yet been touched by Death.
A year ago, a plan like this—one full of uncertainty and struggle—would’ve been petrifying to a country girl like me who spent the first two decades of her life living a comfortable, predictable life. But the bitter truth is that I’m no longer that girl, the one who used to sew daisies onto her jeans and haggle over the cost of produce. Death has altered me in so many fundamental ways.
Perhaps the most shocking aspect of it all is that I wouldn’t want to go back to being that girl I was. Not for the whole world. I’m more resilient, more adventurous and battle-hardened. Death, ironically, has made me come alive.
Chapter 31
Orange, Texas
July, Year 27 of the Horsemen
Ben and I settle into the town of Orange, Texas. The nearest port is tantalizingly close, and I’m already looking into various cruise liners that offer trips to Mexico, the Caribbean and other far off destinations.
A thrill goes through me every time I think of finding a place where Ben will be safe from Death, though I force myself to ignore the odd ache in my chest at the thought of not seeing the horseman again—maybe ever.
All of my imaginings—both good and bad—come to an abrupt halt two weeks later.
It starts out as a simple enough fever, one that makes Ben cry and cry. It lasts for two days, and when it goes, I’m relieved.
But then, it returns—and it comes back with a vengeance.
I pace the small one-bedroom apartment like a caged animal, sometimes with Ben in my arms, and other times empty-handed while my son sleeps feverishly in my bed. I get him medicine to help break the fever, but if it works, it does so only briefly.
The morning after the fever returns, I can tell that something’s truly wrong.
Ben’s inconsolable.
“Sshh, sshh, Ben, sshh, it’s going to be alright,” I say, rocking him in my arms.
He screams, his cries growing louder and louder. He won’t eat, he won’t drink, and even my touch seems to upset him.
The only thing that appears to help are the songs I sing to him. Then his cries die down—just a little—and he watches me, unsmiling and whimpering a little but at least distracted. Once the song ends, his cries begin again.
I can feel my own hot tears slipping from my eyes. I’m so scared my arms are shaking.
I need to find a doctor. Maybe they will have something to give my son.
But that’s assuming they know what’s causing Ben’s fever. And that they have medication for it. And that Ben manages to keep it down.
I’m nearly hyperventilating at the odds.
Still need to try.
I bustle about the house, grabbing what I can while Ben thrashes in my arms. I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to be in my arms, but when I put him down, he’s plainly unhappy.
Just as I’m getting ready to buckle Ben into my bike, a heavy fist pounds on my door.
Grabbing the last of my things, I toss them into the bike’s basket and head over to the door, Ben wailing the entire time.
I open it, then blanch at the visitor standing on my doorstep. Pestilence.
For a moment, I can’t find any words.
“How—what are you doing here?” I finally manage. I have to raise my voice to be heard over Ben’s screaming.
Pestilence’s gaze drops to the baby in my arms. “Ah. So this is why you’ve been running.”
He places a hand on my shoulder and steers me back inside, following in after me. And I just let him manhandle me. The truth of the matter is that seeing a familiar face has my knees weakening. Right when I felt so hopelessly lost, Pestilence found me.
I pinch my lips together to hold everything in, though I can still feel my lower lip trembling.
The horseman steers me towards my banged up table and chairs, but I’m too antsy to take a seat.
Need to get going …
“How did you know I’ve been running?” I ask, as my gaze sweeps over him again. I feel like my eyes must be deceiving me.
Pestilence releases my shoulder, peering down at me. I feel as though he can see all the stress I carry on my face. How it has worn me down over these last several months.
“War, Famine, and I have continued hunting Death—who, we’ve noticed, is traveling alone, despite the fact that we’re all aware of your existence. Combine that knowledge with Thanatos’s circuitous movements and the awakened revenants and well, he’s obviously looking for you.”
My pulse is in my ears. I’ve known Thanatos has been searching for me, but having Pestilence confirm it makes it all uncomfortably real.
“How did you find me?” I ask as Ben keeps wailing in my arms.
Pestilence grips the back of one of my kitchen chairs. “There are not many people named Lazarus, and unlike Death, my brothers and I are willing to interact with the living. It’s amazing how far a few questions will go.”
It’s still more than a little astounding, considering how new I am to Orange.
“How far away is Death?” I ask. I need to know how much time I have.
“Twenty miles, give or take a few,” Pestilence says.
I close my eyes for a moment. That’s far too close, which means I need to head to Port Arthur today and buy us tickets out of here. But Ben can’t travel. Not like this. He needs a doctor. And medicine. And rest. But if we don’t move, it might all be over anyway.
Pestilence continues, “Last time we checked, Death was heading off in a different direction, so you probably have a day—maybe two—before he comes here.”
It’s not long enough. I hold Ben close, even though his cries ratchet up at the action.
“Why are you here, warning me about this?” I say.
Pestilence’s gaze is heavy, and I swear I see some fatherly concern in them as he takes me in.
“Famine, War, and I never finished our discussion with you,” he says. “We would like to.”