Death Dreamed of Me
an excerpt

Amber Novak watched them leave as the hot afternoon sun beat down on the city. She stood on the roof of a nearby office building; it was empty of workers due to damage it had sustained in the bombing but it was not empty. She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes as the wind picked up a little and shaded her black eyes from the sun. She wore a yellow sundress and sandals. Amber held a wide brimmed hat at her side, a long ribbon wrapped around the top of the hat fluttered in the breeze. She looked deceptively young, like one of those Hollywood stars that put out the right kind of money to get the right kind of plastic surgeries. She hadn’t though, and she wasn’t a star of any kind. She looked like the kind of girl that shouldn’t have any interest in a column of Israeli tanks. But she did.

The tanks vanished over the contours of the countryside and Amber turned to the door leading down into the building. She walked down the metal-capped cement stairs to the top floor where she opened the door and entered an unlit hallway. At the very end of the hallway, lined by closed office doors was a single open door; warm afternoon light poured into the hallway there and Amber walked slowly toward it. The building smelled of paper and a sedentary life. She liked places like this. They were a fertile ground for her; the people she found in them often had the kind of lives she could easily take advantage of. People that struggled to pay the mortgage or the tuition bill. They had so much to be afraid of.

All the light in the reception area came from the windows; all of the lights were off. Amber stood in the doorway for a moment and then saw the glow of electricity from the corner office. It was some kind of sales office. She thought they sold paper. She walked into the lit office and sat down in a chair across from the desk. There were two other men in the room with her.

A tall, dark haired man stood up from where he was sitting on the corner of the dark mahogany desk as Amber entered the room and looked at her. He had long black hair that fell on his shoulders in tight curls. He had a finely trimmed goatee that wound up over his lips and eyes as dark as his hair. The man was dressed completely in black with nice slacks and an extra long suit coat that fell below his knees. Manicured hands clasped behind his back he addressed Amber with a nod and then turned to face the window, it’s blinds were shut.

The other person in the room was an eighteen year old man with this blonde hair and shining blue eyes. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans. He was mumbling to himself; words amber couldn’t understand, they sounded like a foreign language. Amber never felt at ease around the boy. Why should she? He could read her mind better than she could most of the time. He was… weird.

“Pestilence,” the man in black said softly. He had a disarming way of speaking; she’d never heard him raise his voice. “What did you see my darling?”

“The tanks are on the move Death,” Amber reported. The man’s name was Cyrus but she’d only ever known him as his alter ego, Death. Adam told her his name. “Things seem to be progressing as you thought they would, if a little more slowly… the Israelis are showing a great deal of restraint. By the looks of things though their patience is wearing thin. There are some reporters down there, things are probably really going to start get interesting soon; they have a habit of showing up just before the shit hits the fan,” she smiled. She was pretty in a very common way.

“Good.”

Adam continued to mumble.

“How are things going here?” Amber crossed one leg over the other and fixed her dress. “Have you found War yet? Is he among those soldiers we just saw off? Or maybe in the city somewhere?”

Death turned and faced Amber. He was very tall. “No, Famine cannot locate the Fourth yet. The Horseman War is merely a whisper on the winds of his mind yet, but he is getting closer. It should not be much longer before War is located and we fulfill the purpose of our creation.”

“About that,” Amber played with her fingers and then looked up at Death, “can we talk?”

“Absolutely my dear, you can talk to me about anything,” Death stepped closer to Amber and his eyes softened.”

Amber looked over at Adam who was staring at the pair and muttering his string of gibberish. She wasn’t sure he was actually aware of what was going on when he was in his zone but it creeped her out. “Errm,” she looked back at Death and then Adam, “somewhere else?”

“Of course.” Death gestured with his hand and Amber stood up from her seat. He led her out of the room and into the sunlit reception area. When they were alone he bent over and kissed her on the cheek. “Now, what is it?”

“I’m just… I’m just wondering where I fit into all this. Your role is obvious, so is Famine’s and you can’t really have an Apocalypse without War. But me? So far I haven’t done much except watch the news.” Amber’s words were genuine. She hadn’t felt like she was much more than an ornament to Cyrus’ plans. She was something for him to play with when he wasn’t obsessively seeking out War or orchestrating the return of mankind to its more humble beginnings. Amber sighed.

“You’re more important than you can possibly know right now my love,” he smiled and leaned in close to her. “We just cannot fully utilize your unique talents yet. Without the Fourth we aren’t complete and we are vulnerable. Once the four of us are together we will come out of hiding. Until then though we have to lay low.”

“I understand all that,” she fidgeted; he was staring at her. “I just with there was more I could do.”

“Your time will come Pestilence. All things die, and all things hunger. All things one day face the horrors of conflict and at one time or another they will feel the hot chill of disease. What we are doing is righteous, and as with all righteous things you can’t always see your purpose within the inner workings of the grand scheme. Keep your faith, all will be revealed.”

“This isn’t working.” The voice was Famine’s and it came from the office. It was clear he was talking to them now, but it wasn’t always.

Amber and Death followed the voice back into the office. Death entered the room but Amber stayed in the doorway. Famine’s lucid periods were just as off-putting as his trance states.

“The eyes cannot see,” Famine said as a matter of fact, “the eyes are full of voices but they cannot see for the clouds before them.”

Death walked around the table and kneeled down in front of the young man at the desk. Famine looked into his eyes helplessly.

“I can see with my mind but my eyes are no good. They’re confused,” his eyes were sad and his mouth curved up in anger. “We sit on the eve of war but there is no War to be found. It isn’t what it’s supposed to be, just a confused caricature of itself.”

“He speaks complete gibberish half the time Death, how do you he’s any closer to finding War?” Amber leaned against the door frame.

“She speaks but she doesn’t feel,” Famine looked up at her then back to Death. “A child speaks but does not listen.” He narrowed his eyes at Amber, “She’s disingenuous.”

Amber took a threatening step toward the desk, one fist raised and cocked, the other clutching her hat. “You little twerp, I ought to pound your little face in!”

“Pestilence!” Death stood quickly, he held his hands out as if to keep them separate though Famine never moved from his chair. “Let your brother be.”

Amber turned away from them both and stalked out of the room. “He is not my brother,” she said silently to herself. Famine silently mouthed the words as she said them and he smiled.

“Tell me what you did see my son,” Death knelt down next to the boy again.

“She doesn’t know who she is. She searches but she won’t find what she is looking for until she finds it within herself. I don’t believe she’ll find it though, not until the end.”

Death looked at the door over his shoulder, “Yes, I suppose she is searching. What about War, did you see anything about him?”

Famine had turned and was looking at the glowing light of the sun peeking through the horizontal lines of the blinds covering the window. He stared into the light and he wouldn’t say any more. Death sat and waited for several minutes in silence before standing up to find Amber. “Stay here Famine.”

He found her on the roof. She was sitting on the edge of the building facing the inside of the roof but looking out over the city. The air was still a little hazy and it made the sky a rich orange color. The sun was still bright and Amber had her hat on. She watched Death come toward her.

“I shouldn’t have said those things,” she said softly. “I know he can’t always control the things he says.”

“He didn’t notice I don’t think,” Death sat down on the ledge next to her. “Are you ok?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“We need to go to Damascus. We have a meeting there in two days,” Death stood up and Amber followed him to the door.

“I’ll pack,” she said softly.

“Cheer up Pestilence,” Death turned to Amber, “you’re part of a grand plan. One that will be remembered forever.”