Silence, cruel silence.
No one told me what the end sounded like, even if they did, I’d never believe them.
It didn’t sound like a woman’s screams—it didn’t sound like screams at all.
The end was silence. A silence so cruel you wondered who was alive, and who was gone.
Was I the one who was dead? Was I the one not breathing, not living…not checking the doors and the welds, not watching the sky for the rains and the storms? Was I the one desperate to sleep with the darkness, and not hear the whisper of my name?
Harlow…you coming?
Sarah’s voice filled my head. And, for a second, I was back there in that filthy bathroom stall, staring at the red emergency light while I longed for peace.
That light…God, that light. I closed my eyes and breathed deep. I could feel the luminescence inside me, filling me until I hummed with the power.
I needed to be somewhere. The urgency consumed me. I needed to be somewhere. Only I didn’t know where that somewhere was. Not yet.
I opened my eyes to the empty city streets. But I was still trapped there in that vision, staring at four hazy outlines as they moved closer. The horsemen. That’s what God had called them.
Dark clouds gathered above them. They were the storm. They were destruction. My heart sped, harsh breaths stole the moisture from my lips. They moved with purpose, surging forward—heading straight for me.
The glint of green flashed from one of the shadows, like the glint of steel…but it wasn’t steel. It was a ring on his finger…the green of colored pencils, of money burning in the fire while I huddled close to get warm…the green of greed, of hunger…of sickness and hate.
Come, that voice echoed inside me.
A shudder raced, tearing through my chest like a sob. I felt the command all the way to the marrow of my bones.
We’ve been waiting for you.
My knees shook, my heart raced, but it was that light I turned to—that brilliance of God. He’d guide me. He’d tell me where I needed to be. “We have to move,” I whispered. “Now.”
I never waited, never even watched for her behind me. Every step brought me closer to that humming in my veins.
I scanned the edges of every shop through the sight of the Glock. My palms turned slick. Sweat ran down the nape of my neck. Still I focused on the tufts of green through the fractured pavement and moved ahead.
Whip grass sprouted everywhere. The kind that sliced your palm as you yanked, and the kind that burned. I pushed harder, surging toward the fissures in the asphalt and caught a shift of movement in the distance.
The woman’s scream came again. I whipped my head left as the sound carried, bouncing off the empty buildings. It was a scream of rage, a fighter’s scream—the kind that haunted my dreams. My knees shook, my grip slipped against the patterned steel. I adjusted my grip and kept my back to the shattered windows.
My breath drowned out her cries. Shadows reached for me from a side alley just short of the corner. I lowered the muzzle, scanning the mountain of rubbish against the building and glanced at the crossing.
Three more blocks.
The Calling hummed, urging me forward.
I took a step, leaving the alley behind. That thin howl of desperation grew talons and ripped the air and, on the heels of the savage sound, came a woman.
The slaps of bare feet echoed. She ran, fists pumping, while the torn remnants of her shirt streamed behind. In the distance, the trucks roared to life.
She was running from The Mighty, desperate to be free—but once you’re owned by them, there was no escape. The only freedom was in death.
I stilled, turned my head, heart hammering, breath sawing from my lips.
Her head was down, eyes focused on the grass-splattered sidewalk ahead.
Slap…slap…slap…
She didn’t see me. Didn’t see anything. Her breasts bounced, one peeking over the torn cup of a filthy bra. She lifted her head, tear streaks caught the glare of the sun. Dark eyes met mine, and widened as her pace slowed. She licked her lips, her words nothing more than a whimper. “Help me.”
Don’t stop…please, don’t stop.
Whoops and howls followed the gunning of engines. Men turned to beasts, hunting not for food, but for a different reason. They hunted for sport, and they were coming…coming for her.
Her belly bowed, chest heaved. Panic filled her eyes. There was a hint of the fighter—the one who still lived inside, the one who screamed at her to run.
I took a step backwards.
The tiny shake of my head said more than words ever could.
Tires squealed, the sound flooding the city streets.
Her mouth parted, lips blackened and blue. She was owned now, owned by the lowest kind—The Mighty.
My heels kicked the pavement as I stepped. The howl of rubber gave way to the gunning off engines. Low roars, blended with the sharp twang of motorbikes.
The muffled thunder created a symphony of terror.
Panic built, the thunder grew louder with every boom of my heart. My hand trembled. I pressed the gun to my side.
Three full magazines and a butterfly knife in my pocket. I’d never survive. Not against them. Not when The Mighty had numbers on their side. Fear was a fist down my throat. They’d kill me…or worse. They’d use me, and keep me as a plaything—just like they did with her.
Tires howled, the sound of the trucks flooded the streets. They were almost here now, one turn of the wheel away from the both of us. Please…
She took a step, resignation roared to life in her eyes. “Remember me,” she urged, and then lunged.
3
“Into the alley,” I scurried backwards, slamming into the woman and her baby behind me. “Now!”
All I could hear was the slaps of her feet on the road. The sound mirrored the boom of my heart. I turned and glanced over my shoulder as I hit the shadows, catching sight of the running woman.
Clumps of filthy hair streamed behind her as she turned left…leading The Mighty away from us. She could’ve stayed, could’ve begged for help. She could’ve led The Mighty right here…and then where would we be?
Dead…the word was a stone in my stomach—or taken. We could’ve been taken.
My throat tightened, clenching like a fist. I hit the brick wall and slunk into the shadows. Whispers crowded in, and the urgency consumed me.
“Who was she? What happened?”
The woman beside me wanted to know…but there were no words. Not for the images in my head, and not for the echo of her screams.
The Mighty screamed past the corner. The thunder of their trucks filled the air, carving through me, like fangs that sank through flesh and blood to the marrow of my bones.
Until the blast of a shotgun ripped through the air. I flinched, heart hammering, a scream locked in the middle of my chest.
My left knee buckled. I fell, pushed and stumbled, careening all the way to the end of the alley and hit the ground amongst the piles of garbage.