Page 59 of Famine

Fun as it would be to make good on my own threat, I’m not that petty. I mean, if I had a change of clothes, then I might be, but for now … that scenario will have to remain hypothetical.

I begin to walk away from the horseman, looking for a secluded place to do myhumanly business, but then I pause.

“Do you not have to go to the bathroom?” I ask over my shoulder.

Now that I think about it, have Ieverseen him relieve himself?

“I’m not talking about this with you,” he says, fiddling with one of the saddle bags.

“But youeatanddrink.” Thatmustcome out.

“Not talking about it.”

Fine.

With a sigh, I wander away to go to the bathroom. When I return, Famine is stroking his horse, his back to me. I pause for a moment, just watching him being gentle with his steed.

Just when I was certain the man was wholly evil, he goes and pets his horse like he cares aboutsomething.

“Does he have a name?”

I see the horseman subtly jolt; I guess he hadn’t realized I was there.

“Does what have a name?” His voice drips with disdain, his back still to me.

“Yourhorse.”

Famine turns to face me. “Are you ready to go?”

I sit down on the ground. “I mean I’m notunready, but I’m in no rush either.” It’s a lovely day, now that the sky isn’t filled with locusts or the screams of the dying. I could linger.

“I don’t really give a rat’s ass about your concerns.”

“You know,” I say, tipping my head back to get a better look at his annoyingly handsome features, “it’s bad enough that you’re a mass murderer, but I was at least hoping that you wouldn’t be such adickwhen you weren’t killing people.”

“Up.”

“I’ll get up—but first, you have to tell me one redeeming quality about myself.”

“There’snothingredeeming about you.”

I huff. “Well,surethere is. I have a banging body, for one thing.” I mean, that’s undisputed. Just ask my clients. “I’m also easy to talk to.”

“Up.”

“It’s okay if you’re a little shy about opening up—lots of men are. It’s really endemic to our culture—okay,myculture. Anyway, I’ll go first: I think you’re obscenely handsome, and your smile lights up your whole face.”

Of course, that smile usually precedes violence, but … it’s still a nice smile, and there’s not much else left to compliment. The man’s got a shitty personality.

The Reaper approaches me, and before I can say anything else, he heaves me up over his shoulder.

“Whoa. Hey, wait—we’re not leaving yet, are we? What about your neat food trick?” As if on cue, my stomach growls. “I’m hungry.”

“You get two more stops,” Famine says, dropping me onto the horse.

I frown at him. “Idoneed to eat, you know.”

“I know what limits the human body is capable of when it comes to food,” Famine says, pulling himself into the saddle. “You’ll survive a few more hours of fasting.”

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