The 13th Horseman - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,43
powerful. Maybe it’s that that does it. The power. Or maybe it’s the responsibility. Don’t ask me.”
“The most powerful?” Drake muttered. “I can’t even summon my horse.”
“You’ll get there. It just takes practice. And the right mindset.”
“And the ability to whistle,” Drake added.
Famine grunted what might have been a laugh. “Yeah, that’s a help an’ all.” He lifted up a roll of flab and pulled out a tin of mackerel. “You really can’t whistle?” he asked, cracking the ring pull and tearing open the lid.
Drake put his fingers in his mouth and blew. A slightly damp silence emerged. “Nope,” he said. “I’ve never been able to do it.”
Famine lifted the can to his lips and half drank, half ate the fishy contents. Drake thought that it was just as well he wasn’t hungry. After that, he didn’t think he’d ever want to eat again.
“What’s your horse like?” Drake asked, when Famine had wiped the oily fish residue from his chin.
“Bandy-legged,” Famine said, then he laughed a hollow laugh. “I don’t ride much, these days.” He looked at his hands, all smeared with oil and fish bits. “Don’t do much of anything, these days.”
They sat in silence for a while longer. “I think... I mean, I’m not sure, but I think one of my teachers might be Death. The old Death, I mean. The last one.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Dr Black, his name is. Do you think he could be?”
Famine shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Well, because he might try to kill me again, for one thing.”
“Yeah, he might at that. Still, I suppose it’ll all be over soon.”
Drake frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The Apocalypse. If he kicks it all off, it’ll all be over for everyone. Won’t have to worry about anything any more.”
Drake thought about this. “Yeah. I suppose.”
He got to his feet. There was a strong breeze blowing around the garden, and he was surprised he didn’t feel cold. “I’m going to head back to bed and lie awake until morning.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Famine said.
Drake gave him a nod. “See you later.”
“See you later.”
Drake was almost at the wall of weeds when he stopped. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Famine shook his head. “I don’t mind.”
“Why don’t you quit? If you don’t like it, why don’t you quit?”
“Look at me,” Famine said. He gestured down at himself in general. “What else could I do?”
Drake didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he smiled in what he hoped was a supportive way. “Bye, then,” he said, and he pushed aside the first few blades of the tangled grass.
“G’night, Drake.”
With one final glance back, Drake slipped into the grass and headed for home.
“How was horse riding?”
The question accosted Drake before he had reached the end of the path. Mel popped up from behind the fence. Drake couldn’t help noticing that her hair was a shocking shade of red.
“Um... it didn’t really work out in the end,” he told her. “Don’t think it’s my strong point.”
“Shame,” said Mel, but Drake thought she looked secretly quite pleased by this news. “Maybe I can teach you one day.”
“Yeah, that would be... What happened to your hair?”
“Oh that; like it? I’m in disguise.”
“What as? A tomato?”
“Hey, that was quite quick for you,” she said, smiling. “No, I’m disguised as someone with red hair.” She explained it slowly, as if talking to an idiot. “So, you know, someone who’s not me.”
Drake hopped over the gate. “And why are you in disguise, exactly?”
“Because I don’t want to be recognised when we sneak back into Dr Black’s classroom,” she explained.
“And why are we doing that?” Drake asked. Even though he’d had exactly the same idea himself, he was interested to hear Mel’s reason for it.
“Because I was thinking – he still lied. Whether Bingo and that lot turned up or not, he still lied about you being the last one to see them. So, after you went into the shed with your uncle – which, you know, is a new level of weird, by the way – I went back to the school and watched for Dr Black coming out.”
“And?” Drake asked.
“He didn’t.”
“He didn’t what?”
“He didn’t come out. I stood there until ten o’clock. He didn’t come out.”
Drake raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Ten o’clock? Seriously?”
“Wasn’t like I had anything better to do,” Mel said. “After that, I went straight home and disguised my head. He’s up to something, I’m sure of it, and we need to find out what.”
Drake bit his tongue, then decided