Page 125 of Famine

Dear God,let me go.

Before I can stab him again, a booted foot kicks the man off of me.

I lay there, gasping for breath as Famine steps up to the man, his boot landing on my attacker’s throat. At the sight of the Reaper, my assailant makes a startled noise.

Famine wears an unforgiving expression as he stares down at the man, his scythe holstered at his back. Behind him, lightning flashes towards the earth, illuminating the horseman’s armor and hair.

BOOOOM! BOOOOM-BOOOM-BOOOOOM!

“Never,everfuck with what is mine,” he says.

And then he crushes the man’s windpipe.

For several seconds, I don’t move, my breath coming in heavy pants. Almost immediately the crackle of thunder and the flashes of lightning fade away. It’s only then that I realize how ominously quiet it is.

Famine comes over to me then, and lifts me into his arms. My bloody body meets his unyielding one.

“Fuck,” I say, my voice shaky as my arms go around his neck. I lean my forehead against his breastplate.

The horseman’s grip tightens.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

I nod against him.

After a moment, I say, “You’re good too?” I ask.

“Now I am.”

I close my eyes, letting his words wash over me. He cares about me, and damn, it feels so good to be cared about—and to be held. Whatever closeness the two of us forged out in the fields around us, it hasn’t left.

When I open my eyes again, I look around at the dead bodies that lay scattered.

“Are they all dead?” I ask.

He stares down at me, his gaze growing distant. After a moment, he says, “Now they are.”

Once I’ve fully caught my breath, Famine sets me down and approaches the overturned cart. He uses his plants to right the thing, and then spends a minute soothing the spooked horses still hitched to it.

After he seems to have calmed them, Famine moves back to the cart itself and hoists himself into the driver’s seat.

He pats the empty space next to him. “C’mon, Ana, let’s go find Heitor and have a little chat with the bastard.”

The ride back to the estate seems much shorter than the one out. Above us, the sky continues to lighten, turning a blue-grey color.

At the sound of our cart rolling in, I see several men walk forward. It’s still dark enough that most of our surroundings have a deep, shadow-y hue to them; that must be why it takes them so long to recognize us.

The moment they do, Famine’s plants sprout from the ground, snatching the men. A chorus of screams arise as our cart makes its way up the circular drive.

Ahead of us, the front door opens and a familiar form steps out.

Heitor.

I shrink back a little at the sight of him.

The Reaper glances over at me, taking in whatever expression I wear. When he turns his attention back to Heitor, Famine’s gaze lingers on the bloody wound at the man’s temple.

“What in all the devils …” His voice dies away and he blanches at the sight of the horseman. “How are you … ?” His eyes move over the Reaper. He staggers back. “But I saw youdie.”