“Please,” I beg the chief of police. “However you think this is going to unfold, you’re wrong.”
“I listened to your story,” Davenport snaps, “now it’s time for you to shut up and listen to me, young lady: Maybe you’re lying and want to fuck with my city, maybe you’re telling the truth and the horseman really is on his way here.
“It doesn’t really matter because at the end of the day, we’re going to truss you up like a hog, and let the horseman—if he really is coming—get to you first.”
That’s his plan?
Who had the poor sense to put this man in a leadership role?
“Let—me—go.” I jerk against my restraints. These idiots. “He will kill you all.”
“Seems to me like he might not—not if it’s you he wants. Seems to me like he might find himself distracted.
“And if he’s not coming,” Davenport continues, “then we can escort you to the county jail for a night, so you can think over your life choices.”
I blow out a breath. “It doesn’t work like that! Death might not be here today, or even tomorrow, he might not come at all. But if he does, everyone will die.”
The police chief narrows his eyes on me. Crouching in front of me, he says softly. “I think you’re full of shit, little lady, and I will enjoy seeing you rot in jail for having the audacity to prey upon our citizens.”
Turning to Officer Jones, he claps the man on the shoulder. “Load her into the back of one of the jail carts and take her to the edge of Interstate Thirty-Five,” he says, casting me a glance. That was the highway I’d warned him to watch closely. “When you get there, restrain her and leave her in the middle of the road.”
I stare at the police chief with rising horror. “You are mad.”
Chief Davenport’s eyes harden. “You might gag her too,” he adds. “She’s causing enough panic as it is.”
The officers do as they’re ordered. I’m left in the middle of the highway on the edge of Austin, my wrists and ankles cuffed. A length of rope runs from my neck to a defunct streetlamp fifteen feet away. I’m chained like a dog.
The officers in charge have moved away from me, probably because now that their boss is out of sight, they’re realizing this is highly, highly unethical, even for the Wild West.
Or maybe, trussed up as I am, they simply don’t need to be any closer.
I struggle against my bonds until my wrists are rubbed raw and a few frustrated tears have slipped out.
This is such a stupid situation brought on by a few idiots who think that simple problems must have simple solutions, and now, not only are they fucked, I’m fucked too.
I work my jaw. The cloth they’ve gagged me with is hurting the edges of my mouth.
I glance over my shoulder at where the three officers loiter near their police carriage. They look bored and somewhat annoyed at being out in the cold, but they’re chatting away. I catch bits and pieces of work gossip.
Nothing much happens for a long time. Some people enter the city, some people leave it—a few of them even stop to question the situation I’m in before Officer Jones or one of the other two men scares them off.
Eventually, Chief Davenport joins them.
“Your horseman hasn’t shown up yet?” the chief of police calls out to me.
My hands are bound, but I still manage to lift them high enough to flip him the bird.
“Hey!” one of the officers barks sharply.
“Forget about it,” Davenport says. Quieter, I hear him add, “If nothing happens by nightfall, we’ll have you guys switch out with Joe and Tompkins and Elijah.”
“What’s going on?” one of the men asks, his voice low. I hear the chief of police fill them all in.
“Think it’s true?” One of them asks.
“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Davenport says a little louder, and I can practically feel his gaze boring into my back. “If not, I can tell you all one thing for damn sure: that woman will regret coming to Austin.”
An hour more goes by before I hear the piercing cries of countless animals off in the distance.
It’s beginning.
My heart ratchets up as I hobble to my feet, then shuffle as best I can over to the leaning streetlamp I’m tied to. That dark line of creatures grows closer and closer, obscuring the sunset. The police cart rattles, then takes off as the horses harnessed to it gallop away.
“Fucking hell!” One of the men exclaims.
I press my back against the metal pole just as the animals rush past, braying and howling and screeching.
“Holy shit!” another officer exclaims.
The rest of their words are lost to the noise of the stampede. The group of them dash towards a defunct fast food restaurant, the paint worn away with time, and the logo nothing more than an outline. They have to slog through the horde of animals to get there, but eventually, they manage to hide behind the derelict building.
I should get some grim satisfaction at their situation, but instead my stomach churns because I know what’s coming.
Death.
As the stampede tapers off, I feel that lethal silence.
Oh God.
I fight my restraints anew, though it’s useless.
I remember the horseman’s promise that he would come for me, and I shiver.
I close my eyes, trying to figure out just how I’m going to get myself out of this mess. I could stay right here, slouched against this pole with my back to the road. I bet if Death didn’t see my face, he’d walk right by and miss me altogether.
But then Austin would perish, and if everyone’s gone, I’ll be stuck forever bound to this post. That nightmarish possibility churns my stomach.
If I cannot hide from the horseman … then I’m going to have to get back on that road and offer myself up to Death like some sort of sick sacrifice.
Just like Chief Davenport intended.
I grimace, even as I shuffle back over to the middle of the road, my chains clanking. I’ve just gotten there when, from the silence, I hear the officers’ voices.
My spine stiffens. They’re returning? How were they not convinced by the stampede of wild animals that the horseman is coming?
I look over my shoulder at them. “Run!” I try to scream. The gag muffles my warning.
“What’s gotten into her?” one of the officers says.
Is it not blatantly obvious?
I scream again in frustration. “Run! Run! Run!”
The group of them stands there, looking confused and a little spooked. Chief Davenport is scrutinizing me, a frown on his face, like perhaps, for the first time, he’s considering that this was not the best idea.
Finally, one of the officers says, “Maybe—maybe we should go.”
Clop—clop—clop.
Too late. Too late too late too late.
I face forward, dread pooling in my stomach. In the distance, I see the horseman, his wings folded behind his back.
“By God,” one of the officers says.
Death is already looking at my form, but the moment I face him, he pulls his horse up short, his eyes scouring over my gag and the rope at my neck, and the cuffs at my wrists and ankles.
His eyes move to my face. There, they linger and linger, his expression seeming to grow more intense, more determined with every passing second.
He clicks his tongue and his horse begins to trot, his attention fixed to me.
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
I can’t seem to push down my anxiety as Thanatos quickly closes the last of the distance between us. I can feel my body shaking, and it’s not just from the cold. I don’t know what to expect from this encounter.
Death stops his horse in front of me. For several seconds, the two of us do nothing but gaze at each other.
“I’ll be damned,” Davenport says in the distance, his voice hushed, “she was telling the truth.”
He’s barely spoken the words when I hear several dull thuds. I’ve heard that sound so many tim
es. Bodies hitting the ground. The chief of police and those officers were bastards for doing this to me, but I still ache that they—and likely the rest of the city—are now gone.
“At last,” Thanatos says, relishing this situation.
Even knowing I need the horseman to unbind me, I still shuffle away from him as he comes forward, the shackles at my ankles clanging together.
“Where are you hoping to go, kismet?” he says, striding after me. “There appears to be only so much rope.”
That doesn’t stop me from continuing to move away from him.
“Did your dear human friends turn on you?” he asks. He catches the rope tied to my neck and reels himself to me. Once I’m within arm’s reach, Death reaches for my gag. With his bare hands, he rips the cloth apart. “Or was this meant to be an ambush?” he asks, sparing a glance around us.
I draw in a ragged breath. “If you try to take me,” I say. “I will make you regret it.”
The corner of his mouth curves up. “Will you now?”
As he speaks, he reaches down. Taking one iron cuff into his hands, he pries it apart, freeing one of my wrists. Then he takes the other cuff and rips it, too, apart before tossing the broken manacles aside. The sight of his staggering strength has me sucking in a panicked breath.
I keep forgetting the two of us are not equals, not when it comes to raw power.
Once Thanatos has removed my handcuffs, he reaches for the shackles at my feet.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He glances up at me, and Death kneeling before me should not look nearly so appealing.
“I’m freeing you.” As though to make his point, he rips one of the cuffs apart.
“Why?”
“Would you prefer that I just leave you here?” he asks, grabbing the last remaining cuff. He pulls on it, and with a groaning snap the metal is torn apart.
The horseman rises then, towering over me once more.
“So, you’re going to let me go?” I ask carefully.
He gives me a sensuous look that I feel deep in my core. “Surely you haven’t forgotten my parting vow.”
So Thanatos does plan on taking me. I don’t exactly know what that entails, but I imagine it means I’ll no longer be able to warn cities of his approach. And though I may be tired of all of this, I’m not ready to call it quits.
“I’m sorry they turned on you,” he says earnestly.
I draw in a deep breath. “They might’ve turned on me, but they didn’t hurt me.” Unlike you.
I don’t want either of us to forget who the true villain in this situation is.
The horseman’s gaze meets mine, and he gets it. I can tell he gets it. But he offers no apologies or excuses.
Death’s hand moves to the rope at my neck. His knuckles brush the underside of my jaw as he grips it, and I think he’s realizing this is the moment. The moment he takes me. I can see the triumph already in his eyes.
He rips apart the rope, and I am free.
Quick as lightning I shove the heel of my palm into his nose, just like a female officer a dozen towns ago showed me how to do.
Death’s head snaps back, and I use the momentary distraction to turn tail and run. I sprint towards the freshly dead officers who lie forty yards away, just to the side of the highway. Surely one of them has a weapon I can defend myself with.
Thwump—thwump—thwump.
Thanatos’s wings echo behind me as he takes to the air.
Don’t look back. I want to badly, but I know the horseman’s closing in on me, and any misstep might mean the difference between capture and escape.
Up ahead I recognize Officer Jones sprawled out on the dead grass. He has a couple blades strapped to his waist, if only I can get to him.
I push my legs as hard as I can, even as Death’s wingbeats get louder as he draws near. Only twenty feet remain. Fifteen. Ten.
Thanatos is so close that each flap of his wings blows my hair about.
Five feet.
I feel the brush of his fingertips as he reaches for me. I slide the last several feet like I’m hitting home plate. Officer Jones is right next to me, his holstered weapons within arm’s reach. I manage to pull out two wicked-looking daggers when Thanatos’s arms close around me. He pulls me back against his chest.
“How I have awaited this moment,” Death whispers in my ear.
An instant later, he leaps from the ground with me locked in his arms.
Christ above.
I kick out at nothing but air as we rise from the highway.
“Thanatos, put me down,” I demand, panic lacing my voice.
“It’s too late for that, kismet.”
It’s not too late for anything.
I swivel around best I can in Death’s arms, swinging my newly acquired blades.
Immediately he catches the knife in my right hand and jerks it out of my hold, tossing it aside.
Distantly I hear it clatter below us, but I have no time to look because the horseman is already reaching for my second blade. It’s in my less dominant hand, which makes striking him hard. But it’s also just out of Death’s reach. He tries to switch the arm holding me.
“Let—me—go.” I kick out at him as we rise higher and higher. I know without looking below me that I will see bodies. Many, many bodies.
Even as we tussle, I can hear the shriek and groan of buildings collapsing. One after another after another. The entire gleaming city of Austin is falling to ruin.
“I won’t,” Thanatos swears. “You might as well stop struggling.”
“You cannot just kidnap me!”
“Says the woman who first took me captive.”
We must now be over a hundred feet from the ground and we’re still rising.
Thanatos is still grappling for my knife. “Enough, Lazarus,” he says. “This is too high for battle.”
I don’t intend to fight the horseman this high up, but I don’t intend to give him my weapon either. If I lose it, I will be totally at his mercy.
That is a fate I don’t wish to dwell on.
I swing my arm backwards to evade his. It’s only after the dagger has sunk into soft flesh and I hear Death’s pained grunt that I realize my mistake. In my panic, I actually struck him.
I don’t realize just how bad, however, until the horseman’s grip loosens. As quick as sucking in a breath I begin to fall.
“No,” he gasps out, trying to recapture me. But his hands fumble over my arms, and I slip through them.
And then I’m really falling.
The wind shoves my shocked cry back down my throat. Why couldn’t I have just dropped the blade? I had to fight to the bitter end, didn’t I? And now I screwed myself over doing so.
Above me the horseman bellows, and as my body twists in the air, I finally see him.
Death’s diving for me, a determined look in his eyes. He extends an arm, though he’s several feet above me.
“Lazarus!” It’s hard to hear him over the wind. “Take my hand!”
For once, I reach for him in earnest.
He’s catching up to me, and I’m straining to grasp his hand. The distance closes between us, and my fingers brush his bloody ones.
So close.
Death’s eyes move to something below me, and I see them widen.
Dear God.
I don’t want to die. Not like this. I was a fool about the dagger. I wasn’t thinking. I don’t want it to end like this.
“Lazarus!”
I strain for his hand. “Thanatos.”
I don’t want to die. I don’t want—
My head cracks against something and everything goes dark.
Chapter 18
Austin, Texas
December, Year 26 of the Horsemen
I wake slowly, my eyelids peeling themselves apart. I stare up at the sky from inside a partially collapsed building. Half of the ceiling has caved in, and judging by the ache at my back, I’m lying on what remains of it.
&nbs
p; I begin to move, then choke as blinding pain stabs through me.
I glance down at my torso. Just above my bellybutton, a thick metal bar juts upwards. I choke again, this time more from horror than anything else.
I’ve been impaled.
I move my arms—those seem to have mostly healed, though they’re covered in bruises—and try to push myself up—
I scream as pain lacerates through me and flop back down.
I pant as I stare at the blue sky far above me.
Jesus.
I can’t die, and I’m stuck.
If there’s a hell, then this is it.
I cry out, I moan, but nobody hears me. The hours go by, day gives way to night, then night gives way to day. On and on it goes.
My stomach cramps from hunger, my lips crack from thirst, yet still I stay pinned to the ground. I sob on and off for some time, mostly because I realize I am so fucked.
So, so fucked.
I don’t know where Thanatos is, or what state he’s in. Maybe he hurt himself as well. Or maybe he didn’t; maybe he simply saw my skewered body and thought leaving me was better than capturing me.
I don’t know why that particular possibility hurts my heart as much as it does.
The next day ticks by. I can smell the dead on the wind, I can hear the baying of wild dogs and the screeches of circling birds. None of the scavengers have found me—yet.
Over and over again I try to drag myself up and off the pole, but blinding pain aside, it’s an impossible angle for me to overcome, one that no amount of survival instincts can change.
I don’t want to be in my own body right now.
The scavengers have found me.
It’s …
Unspeakable.
An eternity I’ve laid here, pinned in.
I’ve been in and out of consciousness so many times that I don’t know whether hours or days have passed since the carrion eaters found me—I think it’s been at least a day, though pain twists my memories. Perhaps I simply dreamed of the dark sky.
The scavengers do eventually move away. Once they do, I sob, my ruin of a chest heaving and my numerous injuries flaring up with the action.
The creatures will be back. It’s only a matter of time.
I search around for an adequate weapon, but the rubble that was small enough to grasp I’ve already picked up and chucked in my failed attempt to scare the animals away.
Death (The Four Horsemen Book 4) Page 8