Screw Your Courage to the Sticky Place

Author:Jenn ReeseSource:dailysciencefictionRelease time:2018-10-30

So, honestly, it was a relief.

Ana did not expect to open the door and find the four horsemen of the apocalypse standing in the hallway outside her apartment. She opened it expecting to find her mother.

So, honestly, it was a relief.

"We're looking for Connor Archibald McKreeley," War said, barreling into the apartment. She wore a red tracksuit the same color as her lipstick and smelled like the flower-covered soil of an ancient battlefield. Apparently Ana was staring--or sniffing--because War raised an eyebrow and repeated, "Are you Connor Archibald McKreeley?"

"Sorry, no," Ana said. "It's his place, but I'm renting."

Death, farther back in the hallway, laughed.

War sighed. "Can we come inside? We need to sort this out."

Ana's mother was due any minute. The rest of the day would involve lectures about Ana's inability to survive in the Big City, comments about Ana's clothing and makeup choices, and updates about Trevor Landau, the blandly nice boy Ana could have said yes to after high school if she had cared at all about her mother's nerves.

Ana pushed the door open. "Who wants a beer?"

It wasn't easy to fit all four horsemen of the apocalypse--horsepeople, she corrected--into a 385-square-foot apartment in the Village. Good thing they hadn't brought their actual horses.