Beautiful Revenge. J L Morris
minutes the half-full bar had been turned into a slaughterhouse. Death’s victims were easy enough to recognise amidst the carnage; they were the intact ones whose faces didn’t resemble a thick, flesh-coloured paste.
‘Empty their pockets,’ said Persephone. She walked to the nearest corpse, pulled out its wallet and held up a twenty dollar bill. ‘We want these pieces of paper.’
She ordered War to wait outside and watch for other Mortals while the remaining Horsemen collected up the spoils of victory. Once Death had relieved all the bodies in his area of their valuables he made his way to the cash registers behind the bar. His resourcefulness and foresight had begun to impress Persephone, which was not an easy thing to do. The fact that he was also incredibly easy on the eyes and a mute almost made him the perfect man.
‘Is this what that tavern wench was screaming about?’ asked Famine as he handed over his takings. ‘Bet she feels silly now.’
‘Yes,’ said Persephone. ‘It is quite stupid but this realm runs on these scraps of paper.’
Pestilence was about to join the conversation when Persephone held up her hand.
‘Cover your mouth before you speak.’
‘I was going to say I have figured it out; the maize problem.’
The hand made little difference. His foul breath escaped out from either side of it and headed straight for Persephone’s nostrils.
‘Good,’ replied Persephone, her eyes watering. ‘Let’s finish up here and get started with the real work.’
She led the Horsemen back out into the night to join their brother.
‘No one came,’ said War.
‘Pretty obvious from lack of screaming and battered corpses,’ Persephone replied. ‘Let’s go back to that field.’
‘No need,’ said Pestilence. He held his hand under his lips as if blowing a kiss and a thick green cloud spewed forth and raced off into the darkness.
‘It’s a fungus,’ he said with a self-satisfied smirk. ‘Their crops are designed to resist most of them it seems but not one like this. They are as good as gone.’
‘We need it to spread across a very large area,’ replied Persephone, ‘and fast. We’re on a timetable. I want to wipe everything out in this part of the country and move on as quickly as possible.’
She looked at Death but he was busy making hand signals at War. It went on for a full minute before he pointed at a car, down the road outside the parking lot and then stopped. Persephone waited but no translation was forthcoming.
‘And that means…’
‘It means he wants to save his energy,’ replied War. ‘You will need us to jump continents soon and that will be an intensive drain on his reserves. He is not willing to compromise his strength when it might be needed later on.’
‘It took him all that time and hand waving to say that?’
‘No, he said other things but they do not concern you, girl.’
Persephone fought down the urge to slap the Horseman.
‘Well, what about the pointing?’ she asked instead.
‘Ah, that concerns all of us. Apparently our best bet for covering such a large area, whilst still allowing Pestilence to spread his spores, would be to use one of the Mortals’ vehicles. He said if you can drive we can take one of these things. If not, the nearest bus terminal is seventeen miles that way and we’d better start walking.’
Persephone kicked the side of the car, caving its door in and shunting it across the gravel.
‘I guess that means we’re walking,’ said Famine. ‘And what’s a bus?’
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