Not you don’t belong here, but we.

“No, Sara. We stay until the deed is done.”

He wants you to suffer, even now, after you’ve tended to him, held him, kissed him.

“So that’s how it is?” I say.

“You are my prisoner.”

What a fool you are, Burns, to care for someone who has so little regard for you.

What I feel for this man is agony. Terrible, crushing agony.

I rotate to face Pestilence. “If that’s the way things are, then keep your hands and your mouth to your fucking self.”

Pestilence is the enemy. I can never forget that.

Chapter 28

It’s two nights later when a burning hot hand presses over my mouth, rousing me from sleep.

“Not a word,” the gruff voice commands.

I blink my groggy eyes open.

What’s going on?

I squint into the darkness, half expecting to make out Pestilence’s striking features. But it’s another man who glares down at me, his face coarser, meatier, and frankly, uglier than the horseman’s.

I feel the cool bite of metal under my jaw.

“Get up,” Nick demands, his voice hushed.

My mind is furiously trying to catch up with what’s going on. Gun. Nick. Waking me up in the middle of the night.

Throwing off the ratty wool blanket, I carefully slip off of the futon.

He pushes me forward, across the living room and towards a door that leads to his backyard. “Out the door, quietly.”

Fear rattles through my bones, but the emotion is so very weak. I’ve lived through too many fires to be frightened of death. The only thing that keeps me moving towards the front door is the ridiculous worry that Nick’s sons or wife might get drawn into this—or they’ll have to bear witness to it.

Behind me, in one of the far off rooms, I hear a wet, rattling cough.

They have enough worries as it is.

I let Nick lead me outside, my bare feet going numb as I walk over fresh snow. More flakes of it drift down, kissing my face and tangling in my hair.

Ahead of me, there’s no back fence to enclose Nick’s yard from the thick forest pressing in on it. I can just make out the icebox and the area where Trixie was secured to earlier. The horse is gone, presumably with its rider—who I haven’t seen since dinner.

Nick pushes me forward with the barrel of his gun. “Keep walking.”

If tonight goes according to this guy’s plans, I know how it will end. Nick and I take a stroll into the woods and only one of us will leave.

I’m not going to let that happen.

“Where is Pestilence?” I ask.

“You mean your boyfriend?” he says, his voice dripping with malice. Nothing and no one in the world can take the ugly hatred out of this man.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Just need to bide my time until we reach the forest. It’s hard to shoot someone when there’s a tree in the way.

“No?” Nick says, feigning surprise. “So you’re just whoring your body out to that thing to buy yourself a little time?”

This guy’s family is on the brink of death, and he’s worried about my sex life?

“You know, I don’t even blame him all that much,” Nick continues behind me. “Who wouldn’t want to tap a piece of fine ass if they got the chance? But you,” he says accusingly, “you’re the one who turned your back on your own fucking kind when you started screwing that monster.”

I don’t even bother telling him that I’m not screwing that monster. The truth won’t save me.

“What do you possibly hope to accomplish by killing me?” I ask, stepping past the first of the evergreen trees that border the property. I can barely feel my feet at this point.

Need to make a move, and soon.

“Vengeance for my family.”

I raise my eyebrows even though he can’t see the action. I know the horseman likes kissing me, but I doubt my death would shake him all that much.

“Pestilence won’t care,” I say. “You’ll just be killing me to kill me.”

Nick’s boot slams into my back, sending me sprawling into the snow.

Whatever chance I had to escape, it’s gone now. My feet are too cold, my body too prone. I squandered the time I had chatting with this angry man.

“What is one more death?” he asks, staring down at me. “We’re all fucking dying here anyway. I’ll be glad to rid the world of one traitorous whore.”

Up until now, the horsemen, the plague, the dying electronics, none of it had truly felt apocalyptic. Not even seeing those empty cities Pestilence and I passed through, their occupants hidden away.

It’s this moment, lying in the snow, a gun at my back, where it sinks in. This truly is the End of Days. Because even with all its hardships, in the world I grew up in, we didn’t turn on each other. Not like this.

I flip over and stare at the rifle.

Nick pulls the bolt back, sliding a bullet into place.

Shit, he’s really going to do this.

There are worse deaths than gunshot wounds, I think, staring down the barrel.

“Put the gun down.” The stoic voice comes from the forest behind me.

Both Nick and I glance over my shoulder.

Standing in a patch of moonlight, looking ever so much like a deity, Pestilence holds his bow at the ready, his crown gleaming in the dim light.

Nick readjusts his hold on the weapon. “Save my family, and I’ll let her go.”

“I don’t bargain with mortals.” Pestilence takes a step forward, his aim never wavering.

“Stay back!” Nick calls. “If you want her to live, keep your distance, horseman!”

It’s all playing out wrong, like a loose string unraveling cloth.

“I assure you, I won’t.”

I take a steadying breath. Just staring at the horseman’s cool demeanor calms me.

“I’ll shoot her!” Nick threatens, his anger morphing into panic as his moment of revenge slips further and further from his reach.

“Do so at your own peril.”

My eyes cut to Nick’s, and I see the moment he decides that killing me is still the better option.

I never see his finger pull the trigger.

The air stirs next to my ear, then—

Thwump—BOOM!

My entire body jerks at the sound.

Dear God.

My hand moves to my chest. But the pain I expect to feel never comes. It’s only after I take in several frightened breaths that I realize I haven’t been hit.

Thwump. Thwump—thwump—thump.

Faster than I can react, Nick’s body seems to dance as it’s riddled with arrows. He grunts, dropping his gun and falling to his knees. His fingers go to his chest, where the arrows protrude.

I look over my shoulder at Pestilence, who’s striding towards us, his face filled with grim determination. “She is not yours to kill,” he says.

Turning back around, I crawl over to Nick and push the rifle out of his reach. My eyes move over his injuries, and my paramedic training kicks in. It doesn’t matter that I have a serious hate-on for Nick; I begin to assess his injuries all the same.

“Don’t … touch me … plague fucker.” Nick says between laborious breaths. “You’re nothing but … a goddamned … whore.”