“Why has no one stopped them?” I say.
No one says anything, and I get the impression that no one actually knows why organized crime like this has been allowed to exist. It’s easy enough to imagine that this mostly deserted corner of the country is too remote to police well.
“Did they attack all your camps?” I ask, shifting a little to ease the pressure on my upper arms and shoulders.
The question causes another woman to whimper. The rest of the group is quiet. Finally, Cynthia says, “Yeah. Or, in Morgan’s case,” she nods to the brown-haired woman sitting next to her, “it was a bribe gone bad.”
There’s clearly more to all of this. And the fact that they know each other’s names …
“How long have you all been here?” I ask.
“He’s coming back,” Cynthia hisses, interrupting me. “Everyone, shut up.” She gives me a meaningful look.
I narrow my eyes at her, but turn to face the man with the whip. Alongside him is another man wearing a cowboy hat. The two don’t stop until they’re right in front of me.
The man wearing the cowboy hat crouches in front of me.
“Morning, sugar,” he says. As he speaks, I catch sight of a silver front tooth. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
I glare at him. Whoever this man is, he had something to do with Thanatos’s death and my capture.
“Why don’t we start with the easy stuff—I’m Shane,” he says.
I just continue to glare at him. The women around me are ominously silent, although I can hear one of them making soft noises, like she’s trying to stop herself from crying.
When the silence stretches on for too long, Shane flashes me an easy smile, showing off that silver tooth.
“Now don’t be rude,” he says. “Introduce yourself.”
Well, now that I know that manners mean so much to him …
I spit at his face.
He’s fast—I’ll give him that. I don’t see his hand move before the back of it connects with my cheek.
Smack.
My head snaps to the side, my skin throbbing. My already pounding head feels like it’s going to explode from the pain and pressure.
“We don’t let our cunts act out here,” he says conversationally. “Unless, of course, that’s the sort of thing we’re into.” The man behind him laughs.
I work my jaw as I glare at both of them, my cheek on fire.
“So, tell me,” he continues, squinting as he sizes me up, “how is it that a woman like you comes to be with a horseman of the apocalypse?”
He knows who Thanatos is?
Shane must see something on my face because he says, “I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen those wings with my own eyes.”
My pulse pounds between my ears. What have these people done with my horseman?
“But that still doesn’t answer my question,” Shane continues.
I give him an unfriendly smile. “You can die confused.”
Smack.
My head whips to the side as he strikes me again. I have to bite back a cry.
“Do you know how many men it took to bind you up?”
I stare at him passively.
He leans in conspiratorially. “Five.” He shakes his head. “I wasted five good men to capture you.”
It takes me a moment to realize that he means five men died in their attempt to capture me. I remember how last night some of my attackers had fallen away right after they grabbed me by my forearms … forearms that were coated in the horseman’s blood. My eyes widen.
Even Death’s blood is lethal.
“So,” Shane continues, “you will answer my questions, starting with how it is that you can touch that creature and live.” His eyes flick over me again, and I can see him asking himself, who are you?
I already know I don’t look particularly special.
I lift a shoulder in response to his question. “I don’t know how—or why. I just can.”
“Is he really dead?” Shane presses.
“Who?” I ask. “Your men? Yeah, they really fucking are—”
Smack.
This slap is lighter than the others, but I still taste blood in my mouth as my teeth cut my cheek.
“Don’t act stupid, girl,” Shane says. “The horseman. Is he dead?”
I scowl at him. “Of course he’s dead,” I respond hotly. “He had an arrow through his face.”
“An arrow that later came out all on its own,” he says, watching me carefully.
I try not to react, though I feel alarmed.
“He can regenerate, can’t he?” Shane presses.
Around us, the heavyset man and captive women have all gone quiet, listening in to our conversation.
“Until you untie me, I won’t tell you a damn—”
Crack!
I cry out as the man backhands me with his full weight behind him, the hit snapping my head to the side. I have to grit my teeth as I ride out the throbbing pain. The skin around my eye is starting to swell, and the pounding in my head is making me queasy.
“You’re not in a position to make demands, sugar,” Shane says. “Now, you can either cooperate, or I can make you cooperate. The choice is yours.”
I raise my eyes to his, letting him see just how little fear is on my face. Then, without meaning to, I crack a smile, and a little laugh slips out. Around us, it’s ungodly quiet.
“Do you really think you frighten me?” I say. “I have seen entire cities fall and everyone I love die. I have been hurt more times than I can count, and I’ve been forced to live through it all. I have met the devil and he really is a fallen angel. So go fuck yourself, your threats don’t scare—”
Shane slams his fist into my face, and I black out.
When I wake again, I’ve been untied from the post, though my hands are still bound behind my back. Two men are each gripping me by my upper arms and hauling me forward, my feet dragging against the ground. My loose hair dangles around my head, and I can see droplets of blood dripping from my aching nose onto the dirt.
I moan. It’s not the worst pain I’ve endured, but it still hurts like a mother.
“Shane! Shane!” a man shouts in the distance.
I lift my head a little just to see what all the commotion is.
A man in his mid-twenties is pushing people out of his way as he races towards us, his eyes locked on the man in front of me—Shane, presumably.
The runner stops, sweat beading on his brow as he tries to catch his breath.
“Shane,” he says, drawing in a deep breath, “he’s gone.”
I go still, sharpening my focus on the conversation.
Ahead of me, Shane halts, as do the men holding me.
“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Shane says. I can hear the banked violence in his voice.
“The horseman,” the man says, breathless. “His cage was empty—”
The earth shivers then. Just a little. A few pebbles go skittering and some nearby people look around.
Shane steps up to the messenger, his voice dropping low, “Then where—the fuck—did he—”
All at once, the ground lurches. Shane tenses, and the man across from him stumbles a little. There’s a momentary pause where the earth seems to resettle, but then it begins to shake violently. Tents sway—a few of them even go down. Up ahead, I hear people shout and rush away from a spot up the path where the ground is swelling. The mound grows larger and larger until, all at once, it splits open. From it, a desiccated hand reaches out.
Now the shouts turn into screams, and people are running away from the undead creature rising from the ground.
As I kneel there, I smile.
Thanatos is finally awake. And he’s taking his revenge.
Chapter 56
Interstate 10, Arizona
August, Year 27 of the Horsemen
The revenant claws its way out, even as some of the braver men and women are grabbing machetes and hunting knives and moving towards the creature. Shane is one of them.
In the distance, I can hear more screams starting up, along with wet, meaty sounds. It’s enough to spook my guards. One of them releases me, sprinting back down the path. The other man hesitates, then releases me, backing away before turning on his heel and fleeing as well.
Overhead, I hear the great roar of wings. My heart pounds madly as I look to the sky. I catch sight of Death’s dark form heading towards us.
I smile again.