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How does he know my name?

Death’s grip tightens, and his wings begin to beat in earnest. Does he mean to carry me off?

“There are other things that await you,” he says.

“I want to go back.” I can’t leave Pestilence. Iwon’t.

Thanatos’ onyx eyes search mine. “I could stop this now, and yet, I’m so very …piqued.” His wings close. “Alright. So be it—”

He releases my hand, and I fall away from him.

I stare up at mighty Death the whole way down, even as his form shrinks and the muted light darkens.

I fall farther and farther down …

Chapter 47

My chest bowsand I take in a sharp, shuddering breath.

Jesus, the pain!Like someone’s holding a flaming torch against my chest.

I force my eyes open, taking in the sparse hospital room around me.

Not dead.

The thought seems preposterous after the gunshot wound I sustained.

My hand moves to my hospital gown. I shift it aside enough to take a look at my bandaged chest. There’s not much to see besides the linen wrappings, but hot damn does the pain make up for it.

I’m mostdefinitelyin the land of the living. Being dead couldn’t possibly ache this much, and I doubt the Afterlife smells this God-awful. The air is thick with that chemical smell that all hospitals have—like this is humanity’s last rallying cry against disease. And judging by the scent of death that also stains the air, it’s a weak rallying cry at that.

It’s only then that I realize I have no idea how I came to be in this room, and there’s no one else around to fill in the blanks for me.

I listen for a minute, straining my ears to hear anything beyond my room, but all is quiet. The whole place is just one long, terrible silence.

I begin to kick off my sheets, then let out a hiss.

Christ, this injury hurts worse than being dragged behind Pestilence’s horse. The pain is everywhere and in everything. Now that I’ve awakened it, it seems to surround me. I take several swallows of air, closing my eyes against the violent sting of it. When it finally abates, I begin to move again, this time slowly and stiffly.

I clench my teeth against the pain when I make it to the door. I have to lean against it for several seconds, just catching my breath. I sway on my feet.

Not going to make it very far past this point.

I still grab for the knob. I turn the cool handle and open the door.

The smell hits me first. Like Death dropped his pants and took a shit.

My throat closes up, unwilling to breathe in the fumes. My heart begins to pound madly as I step into the hallway.

That’s when I see them. Dozens of bloated, rotting bodies slump against the walls and or lay sprawled across the floor.

I gag at the sight. If there had been anything at all in my stomach, it would’ve come up.

Why didn’t these people evacuate when they had the chance?

They were unwilling or unable to, Burns.

And so they died.