Page 72 of Famine

“You mean since we first parted ways?”

I make an affirmative noise.

Famine leans back in the saddle, exhaling. “A better question is wherehaven’tI been.”

That has my breath catching.

Five years ago Famine left a trail of dead from Montevideo to Santiago before disappearing from South America altogether. Foolishly I had assumed … I don’t knowwhatI had assumed. Clearly something far too optimistic.

“Just how much of the world is gone?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“Much of Europe and Asia is gone, as well as some of Africa, Australia, and the Americas.”

For a moment, I can’t breathe. While I went about living my life, whole continents were getting decimated. I don’t know how to put in words the thought of so much of the world just …gone. So I don’t.

We go over an hour in silence, and during that time I make peace with this frightening reality of mine.We’re really all going to the grave.It makes my earlier attempt to run from the Reaper all the more ridiculous. The man was right, where would I even go? Eventually he’ll kill us all.

But if that’s true, what happened to his brothers? I know at least one of them had ridden the earth before Famine—perhaps two, though the reports were a bit unclear on this second one. If they were successful, why did they disappear—or did they not? And why did they leave so many humans alive?

“How is it?” Famine asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I have zero idea what the horseman is talking about.

He touches my upper arm, near my injury. I glance at it, only to realize I’ve been cradling the arm. At some point, the constant movement in the saddle started to make the cut throb in a funny, tearing way.

And he noticed.

I frown. “It hurts, but I’ll be fine.”

The Reaper says nothing, and we continue on for another minute. But then I hear Famine mutter something under his breath. Abruptly, he stops his horse.

“Has my oh-so-benevolent captor decided to give me a bonus pee break?” I say as he swings himself off his steed.

The Reaper ignores me, striding away. Without meaning to, my eyes drink in his wide shoulders and tapered waist. His bronze armor gleams under the sun.

He glances over his shoulder at me, that caramel colored hair blowing about his face, and my breath catches. He looks like a hero from some bygone age, his features painfully perfect.

Those shocking green eyes glint like jewels as they take me in. “Are you coming?”

I hesitate, not just because his beauty caught me off guard.

“My arm …” The truth is, it hurts more than I’m willing to admit.

His expression changes subtly.

Famine comes back over to his horse. Silently, he grabs me and pulls me off his horse. I hiss out a breath as my injury is jostled.

At the sound, the Reaper’s lips press together in a displeased line. He sets me down on the ground.

I begin to walk off to do my business.

“Wait,” Famine says.

I turn back to him. “Don’t tell me you want to watch. I didn’t peg you for havingthatsort of fetish.”

He gives me a hard look, like he really doesn’t want to deal with my shit.

“I’mkidding,” I say. “You’re just too much fun to tease.”

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