Page 100
Story: Pestilence
Do I tell him the truth?
“Pestilence, I …” I can’t do this here. Not when a couple is dying in the next room over and you’re responsible. I clear my throat. “I need to go tend to Rob and Ruth.”
The horseman’s eyes drift in the direction of their room, his face pinching with strain. Without another word, he leaves the house, the sound of the closing door echoing behind long after he’s gone.
Chapter 32
This time,whenI care for the elderly couple, Pestilence decides to assist me. He’s endearingly bad at it and more hindrance than help, but he actually cares enough to try and that’s good enough for me.
Of course, it’s not just the tasks that he’s bad at. He’s sullen and moody as he helps the couple sit up in bed so they can eat and drink what little they can. His temper further blackens anytime Rob thanks him or Ruth lovingly pats his hand.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say the horseman doesn’t like watching his plague take this couple.
At the end of day two, hours after Pestilence left the house and never returned, I wander into Ruth and Rob’s room. The two of them are in bed, their bodies turned to face each other. Their hands are locked together and their eyes are pressed closed. From what little I can see of their skin—and what I can smell—the sores are already opening on their body.
“Lord, we ask that you might bring your horseman some level of peace, for he is struggling with his mortal coil,” Rob says, his voice strained and weak. “And we ask that you give strength to Sara, the girl you have placed at his side. She is upholding the role you have tasked her with, and she is doing so with grace, but nonetheless she is profoundly affected by her circumstances …”
I don’t hear any more than that. Like a coward, I flee the room. Their kindness was already too much, but this is something else altogether.
I can’t do this.Even as they’re asking their god for strength, I’m breaking because I can’t fuckingdothis. I can’t eat their food and sleep under their roof and watch them die horrifying deaths while they pray for me and Pestilence.
I want to laugh at that last one. They’re praying for the one man impervious to God’s wrath.
But is he?It’s a quiet thought, and an easy enough one to push away.
In the distance, I hear the door open, and then the heavy footsteps of the horseman. Of all the moments for Pestilence to come back, it has to be now.
He enters the guestroom silently, finding me sitting on the edge of the bed. A hand covers my eyes as my shoulders shake.
“Sara?” he says hesitantly.
I drop my hand from my eyes and instead stare down at it.
“Don’t let them die,” I say, my voice cracking. I can’t look at him.
He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “What is this?” he asks.
“They’re good people,” I say, the words catching as they come out. “They don’t deserve to die this way.”
“Life doesn’t take fairness into account,” Pestilence says. “I assumed you of all people knew that.”
“Damnit, Pestilence, you saved me!” I say, my temper flaring. “You can save them too!”
There’s a long pause. Then, “I will not.”
I force myself to look up at him. I have to ignore the agonized look in his eyes.
“Please.”
He glances away. “That damnable word.”
I forgot how much he dislikes it until that moment. Guilt and heartache rush in. He’s going to kill them now simply because I said it. He’s going to enjoy it too.
But for once, that doesn’t happen. Instead, maybe for the first time ever, he appearstorn.
I can physically see him pulling himself together.
“No,” he says, resolute. “Do not ask me this again.”
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