Path of the Horseman Page 6

  It was still dark out, but I had no idea what time it was. Nobody cared about time after the Tribulation. You had sunup, day, sunset, and night. Judging from how dark it was outside, it was probably the middle of the night, which meant I only got a couple hours of sleep. I figured I might as well get up and go through some katas or something. I sure as shit wasn’t going to get any more sleep.

  Swinging myself back up and twisting so my boots were on the carpet, I rose to my feet and walked to my rucksack. Aside from the food I’d taken from Simon, there wasn’t much in there. A flashlight, spare clothes, a couple more knives. I did have a small block of wood with a circular target drawn in it. Being alone meant lots of time to train, so most of the holes in the wood were in the center of the target. I was pretty good at knife throwing, and practiced enough that I could even throw KA-BARs, which were designed for stabbing instead of tossing.

  Simon was a pretty heavy sleeper, so I didn’t think he’d wake up to bitch if I propped up the target and starting practicing–

  A heavy, muffled bang came from the window.

  I snapped my head in the direction of the sound, wondering if I was hearing things. The bang came again, and I knew I wasn’t imaging it. I dropped the target and held my knife, then walked to the window and looked down.

  The window gave me a perfect view of the resort’s golf course. A horde of Plagued were shambling through the main path, dragging themselves along with as much enthusiasm as reanimated corpses could muster. There were at least two dozen of them.

  But that wasn’t what made me press my hands against the glass and gape like a stranded fish.

  Stuck in the middle of the golf course was a stained yellow school bus. Outside the bus, trying to repair it and take cover, were people.

  Fucking human people.

  Vance was right. There were survivors.

  And now the dead surrounded them.

  Chapter 4

  “Simon! Get the fuck up!”

  My brother must not have fallen asleep yet, because he was as quiet as a pissed off elephant when he rushed into the living room. He glared at me, but his bow was in hand and his arrows were strapped to his back. I saw all of this out of the corner of my eye. The goddamn living, breathing, humans still had ninety-nine percent of my attention.

  “What the hell, Avery? There’s nothing–”

  “Fucking look!” I shouted as I pointed at the golf course.

  If the sharpness of my voice didn’t immediately grab his attention, the next gunshot did. Simon rushed the glass window and stared down at the bus.

  “Holy shit,” he breathed. “That can’t be right…”

  But it was. Soulless were weapons. They didn’t need guns. If they got bored and wanted to take apart some Plagued, they went at them with fangs and claws. And they damn sure didn’t huddle in a tight circle and protect each other.

  There was no doubt in my mind. Those were seven living humans down there fighting for their lives against the monsters I had created.

  “We have to do something,” I said. I pushed away from the window, grabbed my machete from the side of the couch, looped its holster over my head so it rested on my back, and raced for the door.

  Simon swerved in front of me.

  “That’s not a good idea,” he warned me.

  I blinked. “Are you fucking insane? They’re human, and they’re going to get killed out there. We can’t let them die.”

  I tried to move forward, but Simon put his hand on my chest and stopped me.

  “Avery, listen to me. You’re not human. If you go out there and fight, you’re going to use your powers, and all their alarms will go off. Humans aren’t entirely stupid. Eventually they’ll figure out who you are, and that you’re the reason the Plagued exist.”

  Leave it to Simon to be the voice of rationality and common sense. Leave it to me not to give a shit.

  “Those people out there survived for a reason. I need to know what it is. They could be part of the Second Coming, the whole reason we were sent down here to fuck up the world. So either help me or don’t, Simon. But I’m going out that door right now.”

  My brother took his hand away from my chest and stepped off to the side. I marched past him to the door and practically yanked it from its hinges. I didn’t hear Simon follow me. I had no time to care.

  I sprinted down the stairs at a frightening speed. I’d been gifted with a little extra speed when I was given the meat-suit, but time was never on anybody’s side. No matter how tough those humans were, they would run out of bullets sooner before later. That was assuming a lucky Plagued wouldn’t bite them when they weren’t paying attention. All it took was one bite to screw everything up. Those humans had probably been together for the last six months. They would see each other as a family. If just one member of that family died, the rest would be crushed.

  The image of a little boy eating his heartbroken parents flashed through my mine. I ran faster.

  When I made it out to the grounds, finding the group was easy. All I had to do was look for the horde of corpses and listen to the gunfire. I bolted across the grounds, leaped up the steps and hurtled over the bodies of the definitely-dead.

  Shouts mixed in with the gunfire. They sounded urgent and desperate. Not good.

  As I approached the crowd of Plagued, I thought about how best to attack them. I hated to admit it, but Simon was right. I couldn’t use my powers at the drop of a hat and think the humans would shower me with hugs and kisses. They’d see me as another monster to turn into confetti. Even if I bent the rules a little bit, I’d still risk the chance that they’d glimpse my smoke. Blades were the only way to go.

  Looked like I was going to get my practice after all.

  I drew my machete from my back and gripped it in both hands. The Plagued never saw me coming.

  I raised the blade and slammed it down into the skull of the first Plagued I saw. Its skull split like a piece of wood under an axe. I moved to the left, swinging the machete like a baseball bat and cutting through the neck of the next corpse. Its head and body tumbled in opposite directions. The head bumped the shoulder of another Plagued, and that was when they started to notice me.

  Here we go.

  I slashed out with the machete again, taking off another head. More of the Plagued turned and staggered toward me. I had nothing to worry about at my back, so I let them come.

  Rushing forward, I swept my blade up, slicing open the face of another Plagued. I pivoted and swung down, the weapon crashing into the temple of a bulky corpse that had been reaching for my arms. The machete was stuck deep in its head, and didn’t come out with one yank. I spotted a Plagued woman making good time on my left. I gave it my approval by kicking it in the face.

  Finally freeing my machete, I backed up. I’d taken out five already, but now seven had seen me as fresh meat. Lucky me. One of them, a former cop by the looks of his ragged uniform, held out its decaying hands and opened his mouth, showing me a blackened tongue and blacker teeth. I grimaced and hacked off its arms in one clean slice, then drove the machete into its open mouth until it cracked out of the back of its head.

  They were getting closer now. I pulled my machete free and chopped down on another Plagued’s neck. Its head didn’t quite come off, but it wasn’t going anywhere with a severed spinal column. I drew a knife from my belt and reversed its grip. I rushed another Plagued and jammed my knee in its stomach. It buckled in half, the perfect position for me to drive my knife into the base of its neck.

  Letting the body drop, I swung out again and sliced open two more Plagued necks at the same time. The strike didn’t kill them, but it made them stumble back. I took a step to rush them when heavy hands planted themselves on my shoulders.

  I staggered from the abrupt weight, then slammed my head back. From the smell and lack of noise, I could tell a Plagued had grabbed me. My skull smashed into its nose and rocked its head back. I slipped free from its grip and shoved my machete into its throat. I twiste
d the blade and ripped it out the side of the monster’s neck. Blood squirted, and the heavyset corpse dropped.

  A thunderous boom made me jump and spin around. My machete was raised high and ready to strike, staring at a Plagued that had been coming toward my back. I blinked, stunned not only because it would have bitten me and I never would have seen it coming, but because there was a gaping hole in the side of its head. I watched the permanently-dead corpse topple onto the ground, then turned to see who’d saved me.

  A girl not much younger than me stood about six feet away, holding a black Sig Saur pistol and a hard expression. Her honey blonde hair draped over the shoulders of her dusty black leather motorcycle jacket. She wore matching skinny pants and securely tied combat boots. Her golden eyebrows were narrowed intensely, hiding her denim blue eyes. Her lips were set in a tight pout, which I think she meant to be menacing, but came across as unintentionally cute.

  I would have kept staring at her, but a Plagued with a half eaten face was careening to her right, swinging its arms like pendulums.

  I shouted “Look out!” but she was already turning. She pistol-whipped the Plagued with one hand while her other drew a sleek hunting knife from the holster belted to her thigh. She stabbed the Plagued in the temple in one fluid motion, twisting the blade once to ensure its brain was destroyed. The girl pulled her knife free and watched the Plagued drop. She stared at its body, nudging it with the toe of her boot to make sure it stayed dead. Once she was satisfied, she holstered the knife and looked at her now empty hand.

  “Gross,” she muttered before wiping her hand on her pants. “Zombie goo.”

  I couldn’t help the sputtering laugh that escaped my lips. I think I’m in love. At least that was what I was hoped for, until she swiveled around and pointed the gun at my head.

  I raised my hands reflexively, letting her see that she wasn’t the only one armed and covered in Plagued blood.

  “Jeez, that’s harsh,” I complained. “Save my life one minute then point a gun at me the next? That isn’t very nice, sweetheart.”

  The girl shrugged innocently, though her grip on the Sig never wavered. “It’s a tough world, cupcake. I can worry about being nice after I know I’m not going to be devoured or stabbed.”

  Oh yeah. I was definitely in love.

  “Maddy!”

  The girl’s head moved to profile, but she never took her eyes off me. “Over here, Josh! I’m okay!”

  I looked over the girl’s– Maddy’s– shoulder as the rest of the humans jogged over. I turned into a little boy who was meeting his childhood heroes in the flesh. I couldn’t believe that there were seven of them here. Aside from being a little thin and dirty, they even looked healthy. Not all of them were dressed like a survivalist biker chick, but the two other women and three men had the same idea. Long sleeved shirts, form fitting jeans or cargo pants, hiking boots, backpacks and messenger bags, and belts with guns and knives.

  The only person who stood out from their group was the guy with the biggest gun I’d seen in six months. He walked out of the crowd with the confident aura of a leader. He looked like he was in his late twenties, and there was no doubt in my mind that he’d been a pre-Tribulation soldier. He still wore his sandy camouflage get up and his head was just starting to regrow its light brown fuzz. The army guy’s steel blue eyes locked on mine and surveyed me as a threat. When this guy frowned, he did it way better than pretty little Maddy. He actually looked dangerous, and if his muscles didn’t back him up, the AR-15 gripped in his hands would do the trick.

  “Was he bit?” Army Guy asked.

  “He was not,” I replied.

  Army Guy scowled. “Keep the gun on him. I’ll go check.”

  Maddy nodded once, and cupped the butt of the gun with her free hand to steady her aim even more.

  “Drop the blades,” Army Guy commanded.

  “Aren’t you gonna say please?”

  “No. And I’m not telling you twice.”

  I sighed and let the machete and the knife slip from my fingers. I took the second knife from my belt and tossed it on the ground next to them. But was that good enough? Of course not.

  “Spread your legs, put your hands behind your head, and turn around.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at him. “You wanna spank me or something? You’re not my type, Rambo.”

  I should have seen his fist coming, but Army Guy was faster than I anticipated. He slugged me square in the jaw, wrenching my head to the side. My teeth sliced along my tongue so I tasted blood.

  “Keep pushing me, asshole.”

  I spat the red saliva out and rubbed my jaw. “Bet you say that to all the guys.”

  His fist cocked back, and I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet. The rarest, luckiest of strangers only get to punch me once. Then my shots turned unlimited.

  “Oh my God, can you guys quit the pissing contest?”

  Army Guy and I looked at Maddy. Her hands were lowered, but she still held the gun. Her entire body was slumped with impatience, and I couldn’t help but admire the way her body curved.

  “You, Machete Guy,” she pointed at me, “let him check you to make sure you didn’t get bitten or scratched. Yeah, you’d probably be rolling on the ground screaming right now, but we need to be sure.” Maddy turned her attention to Army Guy. “Josh, he’s the first new living person we’ve seen in months. Don’t be a dick.”

  Josh, formerly known as Army Guy, frowned but listened to Maddy. He turned to me and waited. Amazingly, I did most of what he asked earlier. I spread my feet shoulder length apart and laced my arms behind my head. What is it about a tough, gorgeous girl that turns guys like us into putty?

  Josh patted me down quickly, enjoying it about as much as I did. When he got down to my legs, I sighed.

  “I save some lives and in return I get a gun pointed at me, punched in the mouth, and an awkward groping. Christmas came early.”

  I didn’t turn my head, but I swore I saw Maddy trying to hide a smirk. Josh finished the pat down and stepped back. “You’re clean.”

  I unlocked my hands from the back of my head. “Thanks, Sherlock. I couldn’t have figured that out on my own.”

  Josh bared his teeth like he was ready to rip out my throat, then changed his mind and walked back to his Mickey Mouse Club. Maddy put her Sig Saur back on her belt. The humans behind her risked stepping closer. There was a balding, forty-something man in dirty blue coveralls, a skinny, ebony-skinned teenage boy with fuzzy black hair, a mousy red-haired woman with thick rimmed glasses, a Hispanic man with the build of a boxer, and a motherly woman whose hair was too gray for her age. They stared at me like I was a tamed tiger. Look close and be amazed, but don’t get too close. He might have missed his afternoon snack.

  “So,” said Josh, standing just in front of Maddy and folding his arms defensively. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”

  One of those questions was easy. “Name’s Avery,” I told them.

  The second question… Well, that was a little more challenging. It wasn’t as if I could tell them I was the destroyer of their world and I was about to take up demon hunting as a hobby. But I wanted them to trust me, and more than that, I needed to convince Simon that these people were worth saving. Keeping them alive meant Ciaran wouldn’t be able to dominate the world or whatever the hell he planned on doing. Even if they were being as friendly as rattlesnakes.

  “I’m hiding out with my brother. He’s locked the place down. You’ll be safe here. There’s tons of rooms.” I looked at Josh. “We don’t have to be neighbors, even. I promise I won’t knock on your door asking for sugar.”