The 13th Horseman - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,41

own, they’re natural events.”

“But what about me?” Drake asked quietly. “Death’s evil, isn’t it?”

“Murder’s evil,” War said. “But death? No. Death can be the end of suffering. Death can be a welcome visitor. I have seen people begging for death, and weeping with relief when it finally came. Most people fear death, but sometimes, in the end, it’s the only friend they’ve got.”

“And on that cheerful note,” said Pest, doing his best to ease the tension, “let’s get on with the training!”

Drake rapped his knuckles against the side of the tin hut. Clang, clang, clang. He turned to War. “You want me to do what?”

War sighed. “Enter the shack.”

“But not through the door?”

“No, not through the door. What would be the point in that? ‘Here’s your third challenge – walk through a door.’ No, I don’t think so.”

Drake studied the wall of the hut again. It was made of a heavy corrugated iron, rusted in patches, but still completely solid.

“But I can’t walk through the wall,” Drake said. “I mean, it’s impossible.”

“To Drake Finn, maybe, but not to Death,” War explained. “Death can go anywhere. Nothing can hold it out, not distance, not magic and certainly not a rusty sheet of metal.”

“It’s a belief thing,” Pestilence said encouragingly. “I believe you can do it. The question is – do you?”

“No,” said Drake, shaking his head. “I don’t.”

“Go on, give it a try,” said Pest. “I bet you’ll be a natural.” Drake looked doubtful. He brushed a hand against the metal. It still felt solid.

“OK, I’ll try,” he said, prompting a short burst of excited applause from Pestilence.

Taking two paces back, Drake lined himself up with the side of the metal shack. He straightened his back, held his head high and closed his eyes.

“Here goes,” he muttered, then he took one pace, two paces, thr—

THUD.

Drake opened his eyes. His face was pressed against the side of the shack.

“Oh, aye, a natural,” War snorted.

“It’s impossible,” Drake insisted. “I can’t do it.”

“Because you didn’t believe you could,” War said. “You shuffled up there like you were queuing for your pension. You were just waiting to hit the wall.”

“Of course I was!” Drake snapped. “I knew I was going to.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” War roared. Startled by the sound, a flock of nearby birds took to the air in panic. “There is no wall! Not to you! Nothing can keep you out!”

He pointed to a spot some ten metres away from the shack. “Get over there,” he growled. “Take a run up at it, don’t slow down, just pretend it’s not there and you’ll sail right through.”

“But—”

“Now! ” War bellowed. Drake could tell from the way the veins were standing out on the giant’s forehead that he probably shouldn’t argue. He walked over to the spot and turned to face the hut. It suddenly looked to be a long way away.

“Right, now run,” War barked.

“Fast as you can.”

“Fast as I can,” Drake said. “Right.”

He sprang forward like a sprinter off the blocks, his hands bunched tightly into fists.

“You can do it, Drake,” he heard Pest cry, and then he was past the other horsemen, powering on, throwing himself at full speed at the rigid metal barrier...

A flash of panic filled his head. Rigid metal barrier.

He hit it shoulder-first and his whole skeleton shook with the impact. There was a sharp squeal that Drake at first thought must be Pestilence, but then the wall collapsed, and Drake’s momentum carried him through on top of it.

There was more squealing from the other walls as the metal tore, and they slowly folded in like a house of cards on top of him.

Drake didn’t think he could feel any pain, but he couldn’t be entirely sure. He lay there, just in case, pinned beneath the corrugated iron. Eventually, a pair of powerful hands lifted the walls away.

“Well, that was one way to get inside,” Pestilence said, smiling cheerfully. “But maybe we should try something else?”

Drake looked down at his school uniform. It was stained with patches of orange, where it had come into contact with the rust. His shoulder throbbed where it had connected with the metal. More than that, though, there was another sensation niggling at him. Shame. He was embarrassed by his performance. Behind War’s beard, Drake was sure the giant was laughing.

He looked up and saw that the sky overhead was slowly darkening.

“No more training,” he said. “I want to go home.”

The veins on War’s head stood out again, but he didn’t shout