“I’m trying to count down the minutes until I can get off,” Riley says.
“It doesn’t feel good up there?” I ask as I walk up to him. “Doesn’t it feel like your magic is right where it’s supposed to be?”
He cups a hand over Kit’s eyes so I can’t look into them. “Nope.”
“Liar. Now loosen the grip you have on your legs. For a normal horse, squeezing like that is a cue to get them to run.”
He immediately releases the squeeze, since the only thing he wants to do is plod along so slowly that I’m struggling to walk this slowly myself.
“Now, let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to check on the houses and see where they are with them. And you’re going to stay on your horse. Put your hands down. Why are your hands creeping so high?”
“I don’t know!”
“I sure would be afraid if he rode up in my world,” Vero says with a whole subway load of sarcasm.
“Vero, I’m going to sic my horse on you,” Riley threatens as he aims the horse toward Vero. The horse is being so careful that Vero is easily outwalking it, though. “Just… give us fifty-two years and we’ll catch up.”
I laugh while I pet Sigma. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Taking good care of your rider?”
He snaps his teeth at me and Riley nearly leaps off.
“Why did I get the evil horse? The rest seemed less evil,” Riley says.
I think about the horses that have tried to maim us, attack us, and get in our way, wondering which horse he thought was less evil. At this point, I think he’s just making up shit in the hope I cave and let him turn his renowned horse of the apocalypse into a retired pasture pet that he might throw apples to once in a while.
We get about halfway to the town before we find Mickey sleeping in the sun. He has a blanket down in the grass and is cuddling a pillow. Vero stomps over and menacingly hovers over him until Mickey grows uncomfortable enough that he opens an eye.
“You do know that you’d sleep less and be less exhausted if you didn’t have so many undead alive all the time, right?” Vero asks.
I hesitate as I question why I’ve never realized this.
Mickey just shrugs. “They’re so happy! Look how happy they are. How can I possibly toss them back underground?” He hugs his pillow and tries to go back to sleep, but Vero pulls the pillow from him and drags Mickey to his feet. Evidently, he’s not done with him.
“Toss some of them back into their graves so you can function. How many do you have active right now?”
“Not that many,” he mumbles.
Vero’s gaze is impressively intimidating. “How many?”
Mickey glances away from him. “We need them to rebuild the town.”
“How many are active that are not currently helping rebuild the town?”
“Like… five.”
Vero’s eyes are piercing. Mickey looks at Riley for help, but Riley is having his own crisis in the form of a very well-behaved horse.
“Fine… four hundred and seven.”
That catches Riley’s attention. “What the fuck, Mickey? You keep four hundred undead alive at all times?”
“I just… how do you bring someone back to life and then say, ‘JK, back to the ground you go!’ It’s too cruel.”
“You have hundreds working here and hundreds more out there just like… living their best lives?” Riley asks in disbelief.
