Ten Plagues

“All right. I get your point. They’re a big, fat, ugly, disease-bearing part of the circle of life. I still hate ‘em.” They fell silent and watched.

After a time, Paul said, “Look at the way they’re eating the grass.”

“What?” Keren focused more analytically on the animals.

“They’re spread out all around that knoll over there.” Paul pointed to the top of a rise at the far end of the park. “I wouldn’t have thought they would graze. Maybe the rabbits …”

Her spine chilled. “It isn’t normal. They’re all over.”

Keren felt, more than saw, Paul shrug. “I suppose the animals that adapt to urban life are the ones that learn to eat what grows in urban areas.”

The animals’ presence distracted Keren from thinking about the futility of the night. The unlikelihood of Pravus showing up here was demoralizing. Sitting in a bush all night was a waste of time. But Paul needed to do something, and if being in a thicket like a two-hundred-pound jackrabbit helped him, she’d stay. The minutes ticked by, and the weight of Pravus’s threats pressed on her like a physical thing.

“Let’s switch sides,” Paul whispered. “I’m starting to be hypnotized by all this grass. If I could watch the traffic it might keep me alert.”

“Okay.” Keren glanced at her watch. She was trying not to watch the minute hand creep around. The slowness was maddening.

They settled in again, and Keren was just fighting off the urge to look at her watch again to see if it’d been two hours or two minutes when they heard the first rumble of thunder. Keren groaned. “Rain. That’ll make this real pleasant.”

Paul didn’t respond. The wind came first with a few light gusts, then it began whipping up. Lightning danced across the sky. Keren pulled a blanket around herself and handed Paul one.

A bolt of lightning lit up the park. Thunder rolled and the storm drew closer.

While they shifted around, Paul asked, “Do you suppose these bushes are the tallest things around?”

Keren growled at him, “Thanks. I hadn’t considered being struck by lightning.”

“Worrying about it oughta keep you awake anyway.” Paul laughed softly, and, as if to reward his teasing, the lightning became wilder, the thunder exploded around them, and the wind cut through, even with the small copse of trees and bushes to protect them.

Keren was no longer so concerned with their voices carrying thanks to the pounding thunder. “You know, if he were coming, this weather might change his mind.” She watched all the night animals desert the park to seek shelter. Because she was watching them so closely, she was completely focused when, at the top of the rise at the far end of the park, lightning flared and silhouetted a man against the buildings. A man carrying something that looked very much like a body in a loose-fitting white dress.

“That’s him!” She threw off the blanket. “C’mon.” She ran. The lightning flashed again and she saw him. He was setting the bundle down gently, almost reverently. He fell to his knees beside the body as if to pray before the world went dark again. Keren did her best to set a world speed record.

Paul came alongside her. She hissed, “Do you see him?”

“Yes!” Paul passed her.

The thunder and lightning were coming at the same time now. Another bolt of lightning showed the man with his arm reaching high in the air over the body. Until now Keren and Paul had been running silently, hoping to close the distance between them and the killer.

But they were out of time. Paul shouted, “No!”

Keren reached for her gun. She’d have to shoot uphill and run at the same time. And if her bullet went wild, who knew where her shot might land.

The man held his hand high. He looked toward the sound, maybe unsure if he’d heard a voice in the crashing thunder. He saw them, and, when his eyes landed on them, Keren knew it was Pravus. The demonic evil in him washed over her until she wanted to cry out with fear. Instead, she ran straight into the face of evil, prepared to fire if she had to.

The man held his hand aloft. When the next bolt of lightning brandished, Keren felt the palpable cruelty as Pravus laughed over the wicked thunder. LaToya was clearly illuminated, lying motionless at the top of the slope. Pravus looked at them, as if to be sure they were watching, then he slashed his weapon down with brutal force.

Keren cried out, even as she knew it was too late. “No! Please, no! No! No! God!” She fired her weapon, aiming for the ground just off to the side of her target.

As his arm descended, Keren’s shot diverted Pravus’s attention for a split second. Or maybe it was her prayer.

LaToya, who a moment before had seemed as still as death, wrenched herself sideways, and Pravus’s killing blow missed.

Paul shouted, “She’s alive!”

Pravus screamed and grabbed at LaToya. She threw herself sideways until she rolled down the hill from him.