Besides it, the only things that are truly mine are my purse and my bike, which I happened to leave at the farmer’s market way back when this all started. So now they’ve officially become my few prized possessions.
I return my attention to the simple gold band, trying my hardest to un-see all the images that my mind wants to manically replay over and over. It’s not just my town that has been destroyed. Bremen, Waco, Tallapoosa, Carrollton—all the towns I have passed through seeking refuge—they have been decimated, their inhabitants dead, their buildings leveled.
I’m still rolling that ring around when it comes to me.
He needs to be stopped.
And if I’m the only one who can survive Death … then I must be the one who stops him.
Chapter 6
Lebanon, Tennessee
October, Year 26 of the Horsemen
The second time I meet Death, it’s by design, not chance.
I sit against an oak tree off to the side of the road, a bow and quiver at my side.
It took three months, lots of running around in circles, and many, many devastated towns, but finally I think I’ve gotten ahead of Death.
The autumn sun hides behind clouds, and the trees down the road are changing colors. This is about the time that football season is in full swing, when there’s a sharp chill to the wind. With that comes the promise of holidays and sweaters and warm drinks and family.
My throat tightens. Living alone has been its own kind of hell. I’m used to noise. My house was always filled with singing, cursing, laughing, talking. There was comfort in all those sounds. You couldn’t walk five feet without tripping on someone else’s toes. Even once my siblings had all moved out, they were always over, and when it wasn’t them, it was neighbors and friends.
Now the only company I keep are the corpses I pass and the carrion eaters that feed on them.
That, and the lonely howl of the wind.
I think the loneliness might drive me mad.
The afternoon wears on, and I begin to fidget. Hanging out on well-traveled roads is just asking to get robbed at knife-point. That’s how it happened to me. I’d been on my way home from a patient’s house after being up for over twenty hours, assisting with a particularly long and troubled labor. The doula I was apprenticing under had sent me home to get some rest. I was falling asleep on my feet when I decided to stop a little ways off to the side of the road and lay down for a minute. I woke to my neck getting slit. The highwaymen stole all of my things as I bled out. When I came to again, I was bloody and alone.
Lightning flashes, rousing me from my thoughts.
Not a minute later, a swarm of animals rush down the quiet highway. I stare at them in disbelief.
He’s coming.
Dear God, he’s actually coming.
I’ve gotten the horseman’s location wrong so many times in the last few months that I almost believed I wouldn’t cross paths with him again. But finally it paid off.
Briefly my hand reaches for a bow I picked up a month ago. I’m not a good shot, and it was meant more for scaring off dogs and hunting game. (I’ve yet to succeed at that.) But perhaps I could use it to stop Death.
I grimace. I’ve never deliberately hurt anyone before, and while I might have reason to now, I’m … I’m not sure I’m ready to do so.
I mean, I’m the girl that deliberately stitches daisies onto my clothing, I like to save baby animals in my spare time, and for the last few years I’ve been studying to be a doula, of all things. Also, it’s been proven that, when drunk, I’m a hugger.
A lone figure comes into focus. He looks like a dark smudge against the stormy horizon. I can just make out those terrible wings.
Overhead, rain begins to fall. First one drop, then two, then several, until it feels like the sky has cracked itself wide open. The wind kicks up and I shiver against the chill.
The closer the horseman gets, the more I quake.
Did you really hope to stop him, Lazarus? He’s not just going to listen to reason. You know he’s not.
He doesn’t notice me, not until I get up from where I’m sitting and step out into the middle of the road.
The horseman pulls his horse up short, and though it’s a different city and a different day with different weather, it feels like I’m reliving our first encounter all over again.
“You,” he breathes, his voice filling the entire world around us.
He remembers me.
I shouldn’t be surprised, there probably aren’t many humans he can’t kill, but still. He remembers me.
The rain comes down faster by the second, and the wind whips my hair as I stare resentfully up at the horseman.
Death hops off his steed, his gaze fixed on me. In the shadowy light, his face looks especially tragic. Tragic and lovely—as though he’s haunted by the things he’s done.
That, of course, would be giving him far too much credit. I don’t think he cares at all about the deaths he’s responsible for.
Lightning spears through the sky. For an instant the harsh light changes the horseman’s features. Where a second ago there was a face, now I see a skull overlaying the horseman’s features, and where there was once armor and wings, now I see a skeleton.
Just as quickly as the lightning comes, it’s gone again, and Death is simply a man once more.
Oh God, he really is death. If I needed any more proof, I was just given it.
My knees go weak and fuck, I’m about to lose my nerve.
Death steps up to me, and my breath catches. He’s a being that was never meant to be beheld this closely. He’s wretchedly beautiful.
The horseman takes in my wet hair and rain-soaked body. “Every single creature runs from me—except you.” He doesn’t sound surprised or alarmed. The horseman is a complete mystery.
I lift my chin. “Am I supposed to be frightened of you?” Because I am. I am utterly terrified. I’m also too reckless to care.
He smiles a little, and I must be brave because I don’t piss myself at the sight of that grin, like any sane person might’ve.
“You took everyone from me.” My voice breaks as the words slip out. I hadn’t planned on opening with this, but once I start speaking, I can’t seem to stop. “My mother, my brothers, my sisters, my nieces and nephews, my neighbors, my friends. They’re all gone.”
The aching loneliness I’ve carried with me sweeps in. Grief is awful enough on its own, but now I also have to deal with this solitude I never asked for.
Death stares at me as rain pelts the two of us. “That is what I do, kismet,” he says, his voice gentling. “I kill.”
My grief claws at me, trying to get out. My entire life died that day Death came to my town, and he doesn’t give a shit.
Of course he doesn’t, Lazarus, a small voice inside me says. He wouldn’t be destroying the world if he did.
The horseman gives me another cursory look. Something ancient and alien stares out from the back of his eyes.
“What is your name?” he asks.
I hesitate. I shouldn’t give my name to a man I don’t trust. But what’s the worst that can happen? We both know he can’t kill me.
“Lazarus,” I finally admit.
“Lazarus,” he repeats, tasting the name on his tongue. He smiles, though again, it only manages to make him look like he’s about to eat me. “An appropriate namesake.”
Death begins to circle me, the tips of his wings dragging against the ground. The outer edge of one of those wings brushes against my arm, and the contact draws out goosebumps.
“Who are you?” he says.
“You’ve already asked me that question before,” I say, watching him warily as he comes to a stop again in front of me.
Lightning strikes off in the distance, and again I see a skeleton superimpose itself over him.
I shudder at the macabre sight.
“My will alone should kill you,” he says, ignoring my reaction. “It does not. My touch should rip your soul from your bones. It cannot. There is only one option left.” His ancient eyes seem … sad.
The horseman moves blindingly fast. He grabs me by either side of the head and with one swift jerk— Snap.
I blink groggily, confused for an instant. Above me the sky is dark.
Where am I?