by SD Tanner
Holding the sword high, so it glinted against the spotlight, he boomed, “God’s will.”
The audience took up his cry, and changed their chant to match his.
“God’s will. God’s will. God’s will.”
The newly born hunter was shackled hand and foot, but the Crusaders stood ready with AR15s should she snap her chains. As he slowly walked over to her, she looked up at him with eyes of hunger. Holding the sword with both hands, he lifted his blade, and in a single sweeping motion, he beheaded her. To his delight, the sword cut straight through her slender neck in one blow, and he quietly congratulated himself. He’d practiced on more than a few Sinners to learn how to remove a head so efficiently.
The newly born hunter’s body continued to thrash, and its eyes blinked uselessly in its decapitated head three feet away. Hunters could only be disabled, never killed. Only people infected with the counter virus could kill a hunter by touching it, otherwise all anyone could do was disable them by severing the brain stem, and waiting until they starved.
The crowd were howling, and he could hear their applause through the loud hooting and catcalling. They seemed as pleased as he was at the perfection of her execution. Like the showman he truly was, he began to walk the circuit of the audience, waving his sword high and encouraging their excitement.
When the ritual was complete, he walked back to the cage beneath the stadium and inspected the hunter. It had performed well and he was pleased. The creature was huddled in a corner of its cell, and if he didn’t know better, he would have thought it was crying. Not possible, he thought, they’re mindless vermin.
Turning to the Crusader by his side, he said coldly, “Make sure it eats. I want to use it again.”
The Crusader gave him a doubtful look and asked, “What am I supposed to feed it?”
“Find a Sinner.” Seeing the Crusaders confused expression, he added with exaggerated patience, “Find anyone, and if necessary, make a Sinner of them before you throw them into its cage.”
Chapter Two: Gears
“Whatdaya think?” He drawled, while staring up at the dark, silent house.
Shaking his head in disgust, TL replied dourly, “I think if you don’t be quiet, you’re gonna wake everyone up.”
Staring back at his brother in annoyance, he accepted TL was right, and maybe they should get the hell out of dodge before Pax opened his big mouth.
As if reading his mind, Pax appeared at his side and complained noisily, “We should go inside. I’m hungry.”
In the bright moonlight, he saw only Ip wasn’t covered in cloying dirt, but they had just climbed out of their graves. Glancing back at the piles of dirt where they’d been buried, he wondered what they should do next. They had no idea how long they’d been dead, or what had happened since they last walked on earth. Time had no meaning for them. The last thing he remembered was standing on the battlefield, watching the souls of his dead troops drifting upward and heading home.
They’d won the war against Ruler, but here they were again. Ip had called them to life and he had no idea why. Turning to Ip questioningly, she returned his look blankly, refusing to speak to him. Sighing, he thought, helpful as ever, honey.
He didn’t know who was in the house, or whether the Ranch was still under the control of Mom and Pop. The last time he saw the Ranch, the land was destroyed and their home was surrounded by the tents of the soldiers he took into battle. Turning to look at the fields behind the house, all he could see were tall stalks he suspected were corn, swaying gently in the breeze. The tall, gnarled tree over their graves hadn’t been there the last time he was alive. Turning back to the house, he decided it looked well cared for, which implied maybe his foster father, Pop, was still around.
Although buried with their boots on and still wearing their ACUs, clearly no one thought to include their M4A1s. Make sense, he thought, dead men don’t need guns. Well, most dead men don’t need guns, but I do.
Turning to Pax and TL, he said decisively, “We dunno what’s happened since we left, or even how long we’ve been dead. We should leave and get the lay of the land before we act.”
In unison, they all turned and began to walk towards the path that led to the barn. While they walked, TL asked, “Act on what, Gears? Why are we even here?”
That was a good question, and he didn’t have an answer to give. One moment he was watching his men and women rise from earth towards the heavens, and the next Ip told him to wake up. He hadn’t known he was asleep to know he needed to awaken. Hearing her voice in his mind, he’d tried to open his eyes, and felt a crushing weight on his chest. When he asked Ip why she wanted him to get up, she told him Max was calling in her promise. Unable to breath, and with an inhuman strength he’d clawed at the weight pinning him down until, finally surrounded by air, he filled his lungs.
He remembered promising Max he would protect baby Mac, but it was a stupid promise. Now they knew they were the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, their human replacements had been born on earth. Through the babies, they were once again living as humans who didn’t know they were Horsemen. Their role was to decide whether man deserved to live, and they could only judge man if they understood what it was to be human. Once they knew they were Horsemen, they were to ensure their ruling was enforced and then leave.
Max had been one of their young leaders, and she was the mother of only one of the replacement Horsemen. All the women who gave birth to the new Horsemen were dead. In every lifetime, the Horsemen were always raised as orphans, so they could learn what it was to be human in an imperfect world. Baby Mac was TL born again as a human, and he didn’t need to protect him. If anything ever happened to the human version of TL, he would be born again. Although he promised Max he would protect baby Mac, he never expected to fulfil his commitment.
When they built their bases and enlisted the living, they thought they were simply soldiers sworn to protect. It took two long years to convince him he was part of the fabric that managed the universe, and even now he found it difficult to believe. He still felt and thought like a man, they all did, only Ip seemed to know she wasn’t human.
Without discussing what they needed to do, they walked into the stables and began to fumble in the dark, looking for saddles and blankets. Hanging from a nail on the wooden wall, he saw an axe and took it down. Enjoying the weight of the weapon in his hand, he decided it was better than nothing. Dumping bridles and other equipment they needed outside in the bright moonlight, each led a large horse into the yard. Once outside, he thought the horses looked uncommonly big, and they seemed to be covered with a shaggy hide.
While he buckled the saddle, he glanced over at Pax and asked, “What kinda horses are these?”
Adjusting the stirrups on his own saddle, Pax replied, “Dunno, but they’re fuckin’ enormous.”
“Will you both shaddup,” TL whispered tersely. “Neither of you know how to be quiet.”
“That ain’t true, TL,” Pax replied amiably. “You’re jus’ cranky ‘cos you’re hungry.”
Standing in the stirrup, and swinging his leg over his horse’s wide back, TL replied irritably, “No, I’m pissed ‘cos Gears hasn’t explained why we’re horse rustling at the Ranch in the middle of the goddamn night. Pop’s gonna be pissed when he sees his horses gone.”
While they quietly walked the horses out of the gate of the Ranch, he replied, “You dunno they’re Pop’s horses.” Waving vaguely in the direction of the house, he added, “We don’t even know who’s livin’ there.”
Sighing loud enough to be heard, TL said, “You still haven’t told us why we’re here.”
Ip was nestled tightly into his lap ignoring them, and squeezing her gently, he asked, “Why don’t you tell us why we’re here, honey, ‘cos you didn’t tell me anythin’ that made any sense.”
Luckily they were already well down the road when, laughing loudly, Pax declared sarcastically, “Yeah, ‘cos Ip’s the first person we go to when we need to know anythin’.”
“Shaddup, Pax, and don’t piss her off. She’s sulks enough as it is.”
While the horses ambled down the road, he looked around with interest. Red River County was in the northeast of Texas and usually flat, with pockets of low trees. Now there were tall trees, thick foliage, and he could hear the rustle of animals foraging in the darkness. He was used to the air being mostly dry and warm, with an almost dusty scent, but tonight he could feel the moisture and smell the richness of the fertile land.
Clearly also noticing the change in the terrain, TL asked, “Are you sure that was the Ranch? This doesn’t look right.”
“The house and barns were the same as we last saw, so unless they recreated an identical Ranch somewhere else, then I’m guessin’ so.”
Dawn was rising and slowly light was beginning to filter across the road in front of them. Once it was an asphalt road, but now tendrils of plants reached across it, turning it from a dull grey color to a flourishing green. Judging by the thickness of the greenery, the road wasn’t travelled much, but he supposed the Ranch looked pretty self-sufficient. Why leave if you don’t have to, he thought?
Talking to him in his mind, Ip asked impatiently, Why slow like grass grows?
“The Ranch ain’t close to anywhere, honey, and we gotta long way to go to get anywhere. I don’t wanna wear out the horses.”
“Where are we going?” Ip asked in her usual musical voice.
“Ya gotta be shittin’ me!” Pax exclaimed abruptly. “You dragged us outta our grave and you’re askin’ us where we’re goin’? Can’t you get your puddy tat under control, Gears?”
“Shaddup, Pax.” Squeezing Ip gently around her slim waist, he said quietly, “It would really help if you told us what we’re doin’ here.”
He felt Ip shake her head against his chest. “I do not know. Max says the Devil will interrupt man’s flow.”
“How? How will Ruler stop what man’s doin’ now?”
“I do not know, only that the world will not grow.”
“Oh great,” TL said irritably. “Ip woke us up and she doesn’t know why.”
He might be a Horseman, but the role never did come with a manual. The only one of them who seemed to have any idea how it all worked was Ip, and she wasn’t a good communicator. Her grasp of language was poor, and his ability to interpret her mind was equally as bad. Through Ip they could share feelings and images, but it was never literal enough for any of them to understand. He was the Horseman of War and she was the Horseman of Death. They were bonded for eternity, and he guessed if he didn’t understand her by now, he was never going to. Ip could also communicate telepathically with TL and Pax, but only TL as the Horseman who spread the word seemed to understand anything she told them. Pax was the Horseman of Pestilence, and they all agreed it was a role that suited him. They’d been together in this lifetime since they were ten years old, and were sent to the Ranch to be raised as foster brothers by Mom and Pop. As far as he was concerned, Pax had proven to be a pest for as long as he’d known him.
Still needing an answer, he asked, “What did Max say?”
“It is not her words you should fear. It is her speech that is queer.”
Sounding confused, Pax asked, “What does that mean?”
TL replied, “Max died on the battlefield. She should have gone to heaven with the other soldiers. If she went there, why would she be talking to Ip?”
They saw her body and he knew Max was dead. Being human, Max should have floated into the sky with all the other dead. If Max had gone home to heaven, then she shouldn’t need to talk to Ip.
Looking over at TL, he said, “I dunno, but I get the problem now. If Max talked to Ip, then somethin’s wrong.”
“We need to find a truck,” Pax grumbled. “My ass is gonna hurt if I gotta ride a horse across the country on a mission we know nothin’ about.”
“How are you gonna find gas for a truck, dumbass?” He asked rudely.
“Oh yeah, he’s the dumbass,” TL said equally as rudely. “How are you even gonna find a truck? Last time I checked, pretty much everyone was turned into a hunter. They wrecked the world, then Jacob told them to go home to heaven, and they all dropped down dead.”
“Why are ya tellin’ us that?” Pax asked in disgust. “We were there. Do ya think we weren’t payin’ attention?”
Giving Pax a doubtful look, he remarked, “You usually don’t, Pax.”
“That ain’t fair,” Pax complained. “Firstly, you guys talk a lotta shit that ain’t worth listenin’ to, and secondly, neither of you are lookers with a decent rack, so ya ain’t got anythin’ worth lookin’ at either.”
“That’s not true, Pax,” TL replied amiably. “Ip has pretty decent rack.”
“True story, but she don’t talk much.”
Seeing the road stretch endlessly in front of them, if he remembered correctly, they were at least twenty miles from a decent-sized town. If they didn’t find a truck, it would take them forever to get anywhere on horseback. If I’m going wish for things, I might as well go big and we could do with a bird, he thought.
Still holding Ip, he felt her body move while she laughed and asked, “What, honey? Whatcha laughin’ at?”
“Not horse.”
Enjoying the feeling of her body in his arms again, he remembered why he liked being alive on earth. Confused by her answer, he asked gently, “What’s not a horse?”
Ip leaned forward from his lap, and patting the long, shaggy hairs on the horse’s side, she said delightedly, “Not horse.”
“What the hell is she talkin’ about?” Pax asked grumpily.
TL leaned forward on his own beast, and running his hands over its mane, he said, “She’s saying they’re not horses.”
“They look like fuckin’ horses to me,” Pax muttered.
Now it was lighter, he could see Pax’s horse more clearly, and it didn’t have thin, spindly legs. These beasts were wide, with odd rounded hides and knotted muscle down the whole length of their legs. Their bodies were covered with a stiff, bristly shag pile, and their noses were less pointed than a typical horse. Suspecting the beasts were built to run, he dug his heels into its hide, and felt its muscle ripple under his thighs. Breaking into a fast trot, he dug his heels in again, and the animal flew down the road faster than any horse he’d ever ridden.
They were nearing the site of the final battle, and he could smell the distinct odor of roasting meat. Having been dead just an hour earlier, his stomach rumbled and saliva began to pool in his mouth. Over the noise of the beast’s feet hammering into the earth and their fierce snorting, there was the sharp sound of people laughing.
Pulling his beast to a stop, Pax called, “Did ya hear that?”
Pax was covered in mud, his hair was plastered flat to his head, and the whites of his eyes showed clearly against the dirt covering his face. Being the shortest of the three of them, Pax was built like an ape with a face to match. He was six foot five inches, with a bulky build and a jagged scar down his face. Pax always said he looked like a homicidal maniac, and he suspected that today he looked crazier than usual. TL was tall and lean with a plain face that became handsome when he smiled. Ip was a slender, shaggy haired blonde with finely sculpted features and graceful movements.
Despite their less than sane appearance, he suggested, “Maybe we should introduce ourselves.”
TL wasn’t looking at either of them, and staring into the distance, he said distractedly, “I can see water.”
“Don’t be stupid, TL, the creek is in the other direction,” Pax said abruptly.
Following TL’s gaze, he said, “No, he’s right.” Pointing at a break in the trees, he added, “It looks like there’s a lake where the battlefield was.”
Turning his beast towards the gap, he dug his heels in and rode at a canter towards the water. When they cleared the trees surrounding the area, in front of them was a flat expanse of water stretching into the distance, and it was at least a mile wide. Appearing to be per
fectly round, the lake covered the area where they lost most of their troops and hundreds of thousands of hunters had dropped dead. Unlike a typical lake, this one was silver and small sparks of light seemed to scatter across the surface.
“What is this?” TL asked in awe.
He slid Ip to the ground and then dismounted. Walking to the edge of the water, he ran his hands through it, and a slow gentle ripple trembled across the surface. Scooping some into his large cupped hand, he drank.
“Do you think that’s wise, Gears?” TL asked, as he stepped down from his own beast.
“It tastes slightly sweet.” Standing up, he began to peel off his muddy clothes. “I’m gonna wash up.”
Climbing down from his own beast, Pax looked at his filthy uniform, and clearly deciding to wash himself and his clothes at the same time, he marched fully dressed into the silver water.
The water felt more than refreshing, it was sweet and tangy with an almost perfumed scent. Not water, he thought. Ip had removed her dark top and leggings, and was walking further into the wide lake. Admiring her graceful movement, he could see the tattoos and fine ridging that covered her arms and shoulders, ending at her right cheekbone. It was the sign of the Horsemen, and looking down at his own hands, his tattoos were still visible under his body hair.
While he continued to scrub mud from his ears, he asked, “Whatdaya think this is?”
A woman’s voice replied from the edge of the lake, “It’s the Lake of Life. It heals whatever ails you.”