Armageddon - By James Patterson Page 0,10

giving you guys any more grief.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. I hear he recently had a heart attack.”

Agent Judge’s horse farm was a two-hour drive from the Fort Campbell airbase. Ribbons of bright white fencing penned in pastures of emerald green, where magnificent horses lazily nibbled on the grass.

“We have a hundred and thirty-two acres,” said Agent Judge as he piloted his Jeep up a long asphalt driveway toward a Victorian-style farmhouse. “The perimeter is secure and patrolled, so don’t worry—you’ll be safe here, Daniel.”

The picturesque farmhouse sat perched on a shady knoll dead ahead, but Agent Judge turned his Jeep toward the open doors of a bright red horse barn.

“Um, isn’t Xanthos waiting for us?” I asked.

“Roger that,” said Agent Judge. “That’s why I thought we’d swing by his place first.”

The barn was beautiful. It had those quaint Dutch doors, and a bunch of sliding panels decorated with white X’s inside white squares. Looked like the picture-perfect barn from an “Old McDonald” play set. But still…

“You make my father’s spiritual advisor live in a horse barn?”

Agent Judge brought the Jeep to a stop. “Where else? Xanthos is a horse, Daniel. A champion Thoroughbred.”

Chapter 13

THE MOST MAGNIFICENT white stallion I had ever seen stood nibbling hay in a pristine stall.

He was a noble steed straight out of a Disney cartoon. Golden sunlight streaming through an open window made his coat and mane shimmer like freshly fallen snow. His bright blue eyes, the same color as mine, sparkled. Every inch of the beautiful beast was white on white on white. Picture vanilla ice cream topped with whipped cream and wispy cotton candy.

Ah, Daniel, the horse said in my mind. Welcome! It is so, so good to see you once again.

Now, if you ever start hearing horse voices in your head, you should probably call 911 or check in with the school nurse. But I had held telepathic conversations with animals before, including my all-time favorite, Chordata, one of the elephants back home on Alpar Nok.

Hello, Xanthos, I thought back. I don’t remember meeting you before….

The horse let loose a laugh. It wasn’t exactly a high-pitched horse laugh. More like a jolly Jamaican chuckle.

Of course you do not remember, Daniel. You were very, very young. Stinky Boy they called you, yah?

Okay. Time out. Does everybody I meet, including barnyard animals, have to remember that particular nickname?

“Um, I’ll leave you two alone,” said Agent Judge. “It looks like you have a lot to, uh, talk about.”

Shaking his head, the special agent strolled out of the horse barn.

Poor Agent Judge. He does not understand how we communicate. Xanthos rumbled up another soft chuckle. You would like to know more about me, yah, mon?

I nodded.

Very well. I come to Earth from the far, far reaches of the Milky Way, from the planet Pfeerdia, in what your Earth astronomers call the Dark Horse Nebula—a name, I must say, that greatly amuses me.

Xanthos shook out his sleek white mane and flicked his feathery white tail. There was absolutely nothing dark about this horse, unless, of course, you counted his hooves.

My Pfeerdian ancestors were among the first quadrupeds to settle in the Arabian Peninsula.

Of course, I thought. That’s why champion Thoroughbred racehorses all trace their ancestry to Arabian stallions!

Yah, mon. But when we race against Earth animals, we rein ourselves in. To do otherwise would not be sporting. You see, Daniel, four-legged Pfeerdians can easily trot at one hundred miles per hour.

I was impressed. Um, what do you guys consider “galloping”?

When we break the sound barrier, brudda. Heh, heh, heh.

So, I inquired, why did you come to Earth?

For Kentucky, Xanthos replied with a contented sigh. For us, this is heaven. We are treated here like royalty. And the grass? Oh, my, Daniel. It is sooo delicious. Very, very tasty and sweet. I would be so, so sad if anything bad were to befall this beautiful place….

Xanthos’s thoughts drifted off. For the first time since meeting this fellow alien, I sensed a non-mellow vibe. Fear? Dread? Something was definitely upsetting his laid-back mojo.

What is it you are afraid of? I asked.

Much, Daniel. Much. The coming battle. The final struggle. Your mission to take on Number 2.

I needed to clear up that little misconception. Um, taking out Number 2 won’t be the final battle, Xanthos. The Prayer, the most evil alien residing on Earth, is still my primary objective. My mission on Terra Firma won’t be complete until I do to him what he did to my family.

Ah, yes. Revenge. A very