Gary and Rain left Martin, James and Gemma at the farm and walked back towards his uncle’s converted farmhouse. It was past midday and the low November sun had dispersed the frost from the night before. Again, it struck Gary how pleasant everything felt. Strolling through the open fields, in the fresh air, with an attractive woman walking next to him.

He’d noticed that whenever he was near Rain, his cravings seemed to subside. It was as if the undead voice inside him either feared or respected Rain, perhaps because of her relationship with death.

Got to remember that she’s killed a lot of people, Gary thought. I mean, it can’t have been thousands. That must have been an exaggeration. But even so... I’m dealing with a trained killer here.

Before they left, Martin had taken Gary to one side.

“Gary, you seem to be a good bloke and, well, I think there’s something you might need to know...”

Gary frowned.

He got the sense that whatever Martin wanted to tell him was of a personal nature, and he wasn’t in the mood for it. The last thing Gary wanted to deal with right now was someone else’s personal grief.

“Okay, can this wait? Is it urgent? Because right now I need to get back and let Jonathan and the others know the good news about the farm.”

Martin had nodded.

“Yeah. Yes, you’re right. That’s more important. Everyone needs a bit of good news right now, don’t they? We’ll talk later. And Gary? I just... look, thank you, okay? I don’t know if anyone’s said that to you, but thanks.”

Gary had nodded and left, eager to avoid whatever Martin wanted to unburden himself of.

Now he was keen for more information. Despite Rain’s obvious difficulty in providing him with answers, he pressed on with more questions. She had little to add to what he knew about the levelling up process for the undead and frowned when he asked her.

“Gary, I’m not the fountain of all knowledge, you know? These are questions for other people to answer, scholars and so forth. Or maybe your ‘Juliet.’”

“Right, right,” Gary continued, oblivious. “Hey, here’s another question. Why don’t the undead attack the necromancers?”

“Magical talismans created to ward them away,” Rain responded, her words tight.

“Right, so, if we could get our hands on some of them, then we’d be able to protect ourselves?”

“No-one knows how to craft them anymore except the necromancers. The Father of Death has made sure of that.”

Rain gave a small, odd smile as she mentioned the ‘Father of Death’ - the smile you might see on a seven-year-old who still believes in Santa Claus. Then she shook her head and scowled, her lips twisting in scorn. The same scorn you might see on the face of an eight-year-old who has learned that no-one is coming down the chimney to leave presents at the end of the bed.

“Right, the Father of Death. And he’s the one behind all of this? Jonathan said he was going to kill him.”

Rain snorted.

“He’ll have as much chance of that as everyone else: none. You can’t kill Father Death.”

“Right, right, okay, so look, I need to know more about how the system works...”

“Gary, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

Rain stopped walking and wheeled round to face him. Even though she was a few inches shorter than he was, Gary felt himself shrinking under the sudden fury on her face.

“I’m more than just a fucking information resource, okay? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve got my own shit going on right now. And at least, hm, let me see, at least all of that is because of you!”

Gary was taken aback. For a few minutes he’d been able to forget everything that was going on except in the most abstract terms and had been enjoying Rain’s company.

“Uh...”

“Uhhhh...” Rain mimicked, mocking him, “You’re fucking right ‘Uhhh...’! In case you didn’t notice, I just betrayed a group of people because there’s a chance you might be the Messiah of the Eternal Night, our Prince of Darkness, and I am not having any fucking fun with that idea either. It took me years to break away from my people’s beliefs and now here you are and what are you doing? Asking me a bunch of fucking questions I don’t know the answer to, anyway! Fucksake! Honestly, my life would be so much easier if I just killed you here and now.”

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The sudden outburst dumbfounded Gary. He took a step back and lifted Simon.

Rain rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I’m a level 19 assassin. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead. And I don’t want to do that because that’s not who I am anymore.”

Rain scowled.

“Besides which, if I killed you, you might come back to life and that would just be further fulfilling the prophecy,” Rain muttered. “Gods, you’ll drive me fucking mad, I swear.”

Bloody hell, Gary reproached himself, nice one Gary! Piss off one of the few people who’s kept you alive by taking her for granted, giving her the third degree on the interrogation front and not stopping for a second to think about what she might be feeling.

Idiot.

On the other hand, if I had a penny for every time a woman told me I’d drive her mad, I’d be, uh... three pennies richer.

He didn’t say the last part out loud. He doubted Rain, with or without her understanding of jokes, would have appreciated it.

Gary waited to see if Rain had any more to say, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned sideways to look across the hills.

Gary waited as the silent minutes ticked by. Silent minutes for Rain, at any rate. The violins kept playing in Gary’s head, but he ignored them.

Rain stood, her face impassive again, her eyes staring at the horizon. Her face had reset, all trace of emotion removed as she focussed on her breathing.

Gary couldn’t swear that he saw a tear at the edge of Rain’s eye. Maybe it was just the sunlight catching the edge of her eye.

He waited some more. He put Simon down and took a tentative step towards Rain.

“I’m sorry, Rain,” he said, “I am. I wasn’t thinking about what you must be going through.”

Rain nodded but said nothing.

Gary paused, tried to think of the next thing he could say that might help. Maybe getting her to talk it through?

“You and the others, Forge and Morgan and Annabel. Were you close?”

Rain sighed and sat down, crossing her legs and pulling on the grass.

Her voice was hesitant again.

“No. I joined them after I left my people, because... well, they wanted to get out and I thought, okay. Maybe that is the best option. I wanted to stop killing, I wanted to be… free.”

She paused. The word ‘free’ came out awkwardly, as if she hadn’t used it before.

“I didn’t know they’d start killing people. I would have left them either way after that and looked for something else. But then there was you as well, here, and it is fucking with my head.”

“I get that,” Gary said.

The way he had it worked out, Rain was like someone who had broken free of one of the mad cults he’d heard about in the news.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The prophecy? I mean, I’ve told you most of it already. ‘He shall rise from the earth as one of the dead, but speak, breath and act as one of the living... And he will resist the call to divine slaughter three times as his faith is forged, taking up arms in opposition to divine will... And he shall command armies of the dead, bringing release to all who oppose him... And he shall die and be reborn, more powerful than ever before until all worlds fall beneath him and the faithful who served him will ascend to the heavens. Immortal and pure...’”

Her voice trailed off, and she pulled at a clump of grass with an angry motion.

“Right,” Gary said, “And you mentioned there are some trials or something?”

“Yes, in our temple. The trials that will determine who the Messiah is. There’ve been a lot of contenders over the years, but all failed. All of them died.”

Gary thought about it.

“Can I ask you something else?”

Rain shrugged.

“What do you want? Because if you want me to come to the temple with you and face these trials, look, I will. Okay? I think it’s all bullshit if I’m honest and I think I’ll die, but if that’s what you want, then I’ll do it. We made an agreement and... people should stick to their agreements. Even if it’s the end of the world. Maybe especially if it’s the end of the world. You held up your end, you helped me get everyone to safety. You didn’t have to. So. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain.”

Rain looked at Gary with an expression that he couldn’t read. It was somewhere between mockery and a genuine smile.

“Oh, you want to face the trials now?”

Her tone was almost playful.

Gary frowned.

“If that’s what you want. Because that’s what we agreed.”

Rain gave Gary a killer smile.

She looked away and said nothing for a few seconds as she considered.

“Truthfully, I don’t know what I want right now, Gary. But I appreciate you asking me.”

She paused, then added with sudden scorn in her voice:

“I also know that you are an idiot if you think keeping your word is so important that you’ll travel across the multiverse to face some trials that will either kill you or reveal you’re the chosen one to end all times. I mean, come on. Even you aren’t that stupid, are you?”

This time it was Gary’s turn to feel frustrated.

“Seriously?”

Rain sensed her words had not been taken in the way she’d intended.

“Gary, I was... teasing you?”

Gary didn’t know if he should feel annoyed, flattered, or terrified.

Probably all three, he thought.

He quickly decided not to read too much into Rain’s attempt at teasing him. She was just trying to mimic the banter she’d heard amongst the others, he guessed, rather than making a clumsy attempt at flirting.

“Okay,” Gary nodded.

“We should head back to the others,” Rain said.

“And the temple? All that stuff?”

Rain shrugged.

“I’m thinking about it, and I’m not in a rush. Besides, you know what? Forge was wrong. It smells nice here.”

Gary smiled.

The two of them settled into an easy walk back towards the farmhouse. They strolled in the kind of companionable silence that Gary appreciated. There was no need for conversation. On some level, a bond had been created between the two of them, however fucked up the circumstances might be. There was a sense of loyalty there, somehow.

For a few precious seconds, Gary relaxed.

The approaching sound of a motor vehicle’s engine broke the silence and Gary’s calm.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he recalled his paranoia of the previous evening at the service station about other survivors. From the vantage point of the hillside they were on, he could see the vehicle as it drove along the rough track towards the farmhouse. For a split second, he thought maybe it was his parents until he saw the type of vehicle it was.

There was no mistaking the brown, green and grey camouflage paint that covered the Land Rover Wolf as it rattled along the rough road. It was an eight person capacity all-terrain vehicle. The type used by the British Military.

And it was heading straight for the farmhouse.