Path of the Horseman (2 page)

I trudged through the now completely empty
city, kicking up dust and stepping over debris. With no street
crews alive to maintain the roads, the whole of downtown looked
like the desert was swallowing it up. The sand was ankle high at
some points. I walked past the bloodstains and emaciated corpses
I’d spent the last six months talking to. I didn’t have much for
company these days since we’d split up. Some days I wished I hadn’t
let Bacillus go. He’d been my one loyal friend, and I locked him
away. Couldn’t even think about the guy without thinking about what
he’d helped me enthusiastically do.

The roads were littered with cars. Most of
them were crammed into the middle of the streets, like metal
sardines in a brick casing. I didn’t have a lot to pick from in
terms of style, but I did find a black Jeep Cherokee near the
corner of the four way stop. Three other cars had been smashed
together, probably two sets of cars trying to speed to safety. Of
course they didn’t pay attention, thinking the Plagued were more
dangerous than their fellow commuters.

Irony, thy name is humanity.

The sand softened the crunch of glass under
my military boots. I looked inside the Cherokee to make sure it
hadn’t been turned into a Dead Hobo Hyatt. Good news was it was
empty. Bad news was I couldn’t see anything remotely close to
survival supplies. I figured food would be out (damn you, Simon),
but anything else would have been nice.

I’m invincible when I’m using my powers, but
my skin suit is not impervious. This is something many Soulless
have discovered, but haven’t been able to tell their friends. I’m
not sure what will kill me. Simon will probably die of starvation,
Kade will burn himself out, and Logan will be the last man on earth
before he commits suicide.

Turns out we weren’t the only suckers for
that bitch called Irony.

I tugged on the car door. It didn’t budge. So
I made my way through the maze of crushed cars, found a fist sized
rock, and picked it up. I turned and walked back to the car, then
smashed the rock into the driver side window. I was stronger than
your average mammal, so I took it out in one hit. I wasn’t worried
about the noise, since everyone on the planet was dead.

I reached into the broken window and pulled
up the lock. There wasn’t a car alarm, thank God. I hated breaking
into cars that have thirty different alarm tones. I brushed the
glass off the seat and slipped inside, tossing my rucksack into the
seat next to me. My black cargo pants were thick, but no one wants
to drive around with shards of window sticking into their ass. Next
step was getting this box started. I reached into my front pocket
and took out a Swiss army knife. Not as badass as the machete
strapped to my back or the two KA-BAR knives hooked on my utility
belt, but damn it if the little blade wasn’t efficient. A couple
little twists, and the steering column popped off.

Though I was reluctant to show them any kind
of gratitude, sometimes I was grateful the Bosses Upstairs
implanted me with universal knowledge. It made finding the wiring
harness and connecting the ignition to the battery wires an easy
task. I didn’t even electrocute myself. I sat back against the seat
and revved the engine. It started in one sputtering burst.
Hallelujah.

As I put my hands on the steering wheel, I
caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. It had been a
while since I’d seen myself, but the body I’d been dumped in didn’t
look any different than it had when the chaos started six months
ago.

I was around the age of twenty-five, as far
as humans were concerned. I suppose this body was attractive,
though its skin was a little too pale for my liking. My hair was a
short, white-blond mess on my head, and my gold eyebrows had a
constant pinched look to them. The paleness of my appearance was
stark against my clothes. The black cargo pants, combat boots,
weapon harness and utility belt, and dark green shirt. I looked
like an albino that went to boot camp for his anger management
issues.

The only thing that gave me away was my eyes.
Instead of albino red, they were dark. I don’t mean deep brown or
black, just dark. Kind of the way the night is dark, a color all
its own because it’s seen differently by everyone. Depending on my
mood, the dark could be a touch lighter, or on the path to abysmal.
These days, it’s probably always abysmal. I really need to talk to
Simon.

I backed up the Cherokee, shifted gears, then
navigated my new ride to the Esso across the street. I had to
zigzag through the mess of cars, but soon enough I got to the gas
station.

My skills are in the “infectious” category,
so keeping fuel potent was tricky. At least I had some to spare in
Boulder. Too many people had turned into Plagued buffets before the
pumps ran out. Good thing the Cherokee took diesel.

As I filled the SUV, I took my last long look
at Boulder City’s downtown heart.

My implanted memories told me it had been
nice once. Like a preppy homemaker version of Vegas. Now its paved
roads were smothered with dull yellow sands. Street signs and
billboards were covered in grime. Trashed and burned out vehicles
had been dropped like unloved toys. Store windows were broken or
half boarded up. Blood splatters painted the sidings. Skeletons
with broken bones lay partly buried under layers of dust they would
soon be part of.

Home sweet home.

Well, as close as I would get anyway. The pit
had been home since time began, but it was a cold place with
nothing to do but learn about the world above us. I’d been about
ready to lose my mind, when the seal was broken, and we were
free...

Light seeped through the pinnacles over our
heads, dousing us in its warm glow. I breathed deeply, savoring the
taste of fresh air for the first time. It was cool and soft, a
gentle lover’s caress to my lungs.

I stood up, and welcomed it.

The four circles of light swelled and grew,
until they conjoined into one glorious, gold sphere. I wanted to
close my eyes and bask in it, but I feared that doing so would make
the light disappear and cast me back into darkness.

My brothers converged to my side, each one of
them trembling with anticipation. We continued to stare as a
single, beautiful voice descended through the light and melted into
our ears.

It is time.

The sharp smell of petrol fumes took me out
of the memory, but didn’t change my mood. It was safe to say I was
more pissed off now, given how hard I shoved the gas pump back into
its holder.

I yanked open the driver side door and threw
myself in, angrily restarting the SUV.

The Cherokee finally coughed to life, my
saving grace to get the hell out of this dead city.
After six months here, I knew the streets well. I was able to find
a route and squeeze through the literally lifeless traffic and
drive out to the highway. Or the sandway, as I called it these
days.

I hoped the long, quiet drive would calm me
down, but it only reminded me that I was the reason for the
silence.

I was asked to create a virus that would wipe
out every living soul on the planet. With the amount of knowledge
force fed into my brain, deciding on the Plague was almost too
easy. Humans have feared the undead since the dawn of time. And why
wouldn’t they? What could be worse than shooting at an enemy that
feels no pain, no exertion, that travels in packs, and that
multiples faster than jackrabbits on ecstasy and speed? I thought
it would be funny to watch the humans, who had spent years thinking
they were prepared to handle an undead apocalypse thanks to media,
paranoia, and Hollywood, see just how unprepared they really
were.

For the first few days, it was amusing. The
government tried to cover it up and get everyone to stock up on
survival kits and stay in their homes. They would handle the
situation, and it would all be over soon. That’s when Simon started
doing his part. He snuck into grocery stores with my help and
turned the food inedible. Even dried goods became scarce. He went
out into the wilderness and starved the animals and evaporated all
the water in the lakes. Simon turned forests into nothing but
dehydrated trees and sand.

The humans began to lose their minds. Lack of
food was making them insane. They had to get outside and find food,
salvation, anything. Then it was Kade’s turn.

He’d already been running around on his own,
setting everything and everyone he could see on fire, starting
mutinies in the armies, and aggravating packs of Plagued so they
would find their way into heavily populated areas. It was too easy
for him to turn man against man. He was right in the middle of it
all, laughing and smiling and covered in blood.

Logan didn’t do as much as people might think
he did. Sure, he did his job and killed everyone he touched, but
there was always a heavy sadness around him when he did it. The
Plagued didn’t have souls after my virus killed them, but since
they were walking corpses, he focused on those who were still
living and breathing. He would appear out of nowhere, cloaked from
human eyes, and watch people die until it was time for him to make
their deaths permanent. Logan was the most powerful of us, able to
extend his skills across the world so he wouldn’t skip anyone.
Logan hated his job, but he was really fucking good at it.

It took two months for the human population
to be cut in half. I figured the angels would be showing up, ready
to establish a new game plan for us. Soon enough, there would be no
humans left, and something would have to replace them for the
Second Coming.

We never heard a fucking thing.

I waited and watched, staring at the sky and
thinking someone would tell me why this was happening. It was
becoming too much. All those memories of humans had showed me more
than wars and destruction. Humans could be selfish and stupid, yes,
but their history hadn’t been a complete disaster. They laughed and
loved and fought for nobility. Firefighters risked their lives to
save strangers in burning buildings. Soldiers took bullets for one
another. People with barely enough income to feed themselves
volunteered to help others who lived on the streets. Big brothers
put Band-Aids on the skinned knees of their little sisters.

At five months, I realized I had made a huge
mistake. Heaven wasn’t coming to earth. My virus had killed off all
but ten percent of the population. Anything Simon hadn’t atrophied
was burned down by Kade. Logan was everywhere.

When it was over, all that was left standing
was us and the dead. That was when I knew we were going to have to
live with the mess we made.

***

The road I took to Henderson was devoid of
Plagued and Soulless, so I thought I would be safe. Never
assume.

I’d been so damn busy moping over what I’d
done with my brothers that I never saw the road-spikes on the
middle of the sandway until it was too late for me to stop.

They flipped up and I reacted like an idiot.
Instead of stopping, I swerved.

With nothing but vacant cars and tipped big
rigs and RV’s strewn on the sandway, speed was irrelevant. It
wasn’t like there were any cops around to give me a scolding and a
ticket. I had been doing close to one-fifty against the grit, so
when I snapped the wheel to the left, I took the whole SUV with me.
The back tires still skidded against the sharp edges of the
road-spikes, popping them with a sound that rivaled a shotgun
blast. The horizon pitched as the Cherokee flipped onto its side,
bouncing once before rolling onto its ceiling. Before the tumble,
the airbag exploded with a loud
crack
, smashing me in the
face and nearly blinding me with the damn powder. There was sharp
pain in my nose, and then the SUV rolled onto its side. I fell out
of the seat and landed in the passenger seat in an awkward crunch
with my rucksack digging into my back.

Next time I speed on the sandway, I’m wearing
a seatbelt.

The problem with being in a human body is
that I feel pain. Unless I’m using my powers, I’ll feel every cut
of broken glass, every sharp twist in my neck, every bruise as I’m
tossed inside a metal box like the world’s most hated rag doll.
When the SUV finally stopped rolling, I was already blacking
out.

Their voices woke me up. I could hear them
shouting happily from outside the vehicle. They couldn’t have been
more than thirty feet away.

I blinked my eyes open, feeling something hot
and sticky sliding down my forehead. I quickly glanced at my body.
It was bruised and scratched from the broken glass, but it was in
one piece and there were no bones sticking out at the wrong
angles.

I knew I had to get moving, but everything I
saw was blurry and I felt sluggish. When I turned onto my front, it
was more like an awkward belly flop. I lay down on the top of the
car, feeling the shards of glass and rough carpet of the roof
scraping my stomach. The front of the car had been crushed sometime
in the roll, making it hard to see through the thin crack of the
windshield.

But I saw enough. Four Soulless sauntering
toward me, and someone else. Someone that wasn’t undead, but wasn’t
human either. Which could only mean…

Shit.

There wasn’t a lot that could kill me. But
one of those things could.