Famine by Laura Thalassa

Chapter 51

Ana

Famine has barely spoken the words when—

BOOM!

It sounds like the world is cracking itself wide open.

I stagger towards the horseman, the ground trying to throw me off like a wild horse bucking its rider.

Another earthquake.

I remember the last one well enough. Famine had caused it then, too.

Around us, the earth heaves, and trees from the forest that now surrounds our house snap by the dozens, their trunks crashing to the ground. That’s the only sound I can pick out, but there are others too—too many others. I think our house is making some of them.

Rain turns to hail and lightning flashes from the heavens—coming so fast and from so many places that I can’t make sense of it.

I cover my head as a bloodcurdling howl rises from the depths of the earth, the sound filling the sky, so deafening that it drowns out the roar of the storm.

Far in the distance, several of Taubaté’s derelict skyscrapers begin to fall.

I swallow my scream at the sight. They crumble apart as they collapse, kicking up plumes of debris in their wake.

At some point, the unearthly howl dies away, leaving my ears ringing. Slowly, I hear the sounds of frightened animals. Thousands of birds and bugs have already taken to the skies, but they fly in a confused, agitated sort of way, like neither land nor sky is safe.

A short ways from me, Famine is still kneeling on the ground.

His face is wiped clean of all expression.

Fear—true, undiluted fear, the kind you feel as a kid—floods my system.

“What was that?” I breathe.

I’m not sure he heard me; my voice is too quiet and our surroundings are too loud.

But then the Reaper’s unearthly green eyes move to mine. He holds my gaze for several seconds.

“My brother is awake.” Famine’s face is pale. “Death … lives.”