The Horseman

“And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.” – Revelation 6:8

Everyone always assumed that the end of the world would be loud and climatic, burning with hellfire and chaos. Perhaps that is why it was such a shock, for most, that the end of the world came not with such thundering, but in silence, for it is in a world of silence that we now live.

It has been five years since the Silencing, when all main sources of communication and reliable electricity have been cut off. No one really knows how or why it happened. Some say it was the result of a secret war raging out in space, others that our own governments did it to better limit and control a rebellious population, and a few believed it to be a second tower of Babel, punishment for our hubris to God.

The how or why barely makes a difference anymore to most of us. Discussion of that topic is mostly regulated to dinner conversation when we have little else to say or discuss aside from the weather. No, best to leave conspiracies and theories where they lie and focus on the important matters at hand; talk is a luxury we can only afford when we have full bellies and secured grazing lands.

~~~

I quickly finish saddling Peaches, my red roan mare, and swing into the creaking saddle. This will be her first time at the yearly fall round up. Normally I would use my older black and white mare, but the previous year we had fallen down into a ravine and, while we both miraculously hadn’t been killed, one of her back legs had been permanently injured, rendering her a schooling horse rather than a working one.

I brushed the silver heart shaped locket at my throat held in place by a thin decorative chain that had yet to break once. I prayed that despite Peaches’ similarly delicate frame she would prove just as unbreakable.

The three other men going with me into the park were already there waiting as I trotted up. All three rode geldings, Anderson, the town’s school teacher, Theo, an old rancher and tracker, and James, Theo’s ranch hand. We would be gone for several days checking the old national park’s fence and locating this year’s crop of foals that were ready to leave their mothers.

The stallion’s herd that we were after had a thing for pale colored horses so we all hoped that Peaches’ ivory colored mane and tail would be enough to entice him away for a bit while they rounded up the rest of the herd to sort.

We exchanged pleasantries and rode off with the sun just beginning to peak over the hills and down into the valley that protected Medora.

It never failed to amuse me that, five years ago, this town had been a complete tourist trap built within the badlands of North Dakota. Back then, I would have never dreamed of making a living breaking horses or leather working, such activities had just been hobbies. Now they were a way of life not just for me but others as well. It was like instead of moving forward in time we had been teleported back to the days of the cowboy, except now ammunition was worth more than thrice its weight in gold and we had learned to go without a lot of other luxuries after that first year.

Now instead of bankers, IT experts, or other office jobs being the height a person could achieve, it was the gardener, the butcher, the mechanic and other trades that were the most sought after in the community. But even amongst all these there was none other more highly respected than the horseman. A community’s horseman was their transportation, vet, and a valuable source of income. Without their ability a community would simply shrivel up and die.

I was Medora’s horseman, and a damn good one by God’s grace. I had trained all the horses in this little group of riders and this year I would collect seven or more to break to saddle.

“Where do you think we will find them this year?” James’ question broke through my thoughts.

James was closest to me in age, being only three years older than my twenty-five, with blonde hair and handsome features. I knew he fancied me but I was loath to give up my life of breaking colts to raise children and he never pressed so we simply maintained a friendly relationship.

“I want to try Sage’s meadow first, that’s where the band has been hanging around the last few months.” Horses were creatures of habit but they loved to prove a guy wrong, and Sage was as crafty as they came. “I’m glad we have Theo along just in case though.”

As if on cue Theo bellowed back at us from up ahead, “James! Quit yer flirting and git yer scrawny bag of bones up here! Girl’s already turned ya down twice anyhow.”

I turned away to hide a smile and to keep from laughing as James rode to catch up with Theo, no doubt to tell the old rancher that he was not flirting with me in the slightest.

When I turned back Anderson had fallen into step next to me. “Perhaps it is best not to encourage James so much, unless there is genuine attraction?” His voice was gentle but held a warning and a little hope. He didn’t want there to be trouble on this trip, but wasn’t against the idea of James and I. Heck, I think just about everybody in town was hopeful for me and James to end up together.

I shook my head in mock frustration, “You and Theo are worse than my aunt. Am I to understand that I should fall to the error of bad manners and ignore him completely just because I don’t feel a romantic attraction to him?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and giving Anderson a self satisfied smirk.

Now it was Anderson who shook his head and sighed, “No I don’t mean that. Honestly Von, had the Silencing not happened I suspect you would have made a phenomenal politician.”

I curled my lip in disgust, “Ugh, no thank you.”

Anderson laughed, finally looking like the fourty-five years that he was instead of the haggard, suffering school teacher that he normally looked.

“Von! Anderson!” Theo’s shout of alarm set us off into a canter to reach him and James at the top of the rise.

The old man said nothing but pointed to a Jeep that had been rammed through the parameter fence and abandoned after getting tangled in the wire.

Old Theo handed Anderson his rifle, the only one amongst the four of us, with an unspoken instruction that he was to stay on the ridge, far enough back to not make himself an easy target but close enough to watch our backs as we rode down to where the vehicle was.

Theo dismounted and began inspecting the Jeep and the immediate area, working methodically as James and I circled some distance off, looking for anything else out of place and never out of sight from the group.

After some minutes Theo called the two of us back, “It’s a small group of them, maybe 5 but I’m not sure. They’ve got horses too. Probably used them to pull the Jeep here and then used what little gas is left in it to ram through the fence.”

“We need to get back to Medora,” James said tightening his reins to keep his dancing horse in place, “they need to know and we need to get the fence back up.”

“But if we leave here, we let them have the chance to run off with whatever they’re after.” I countered.

James opened his mouth to argue but Theo held up a hand to stop us both, “Yer both right, but we don’t have the numbers ourselves to do either job. Von, ya have yer bow on you?”

I nodded that I did.

“Good, then Anderson and I will go back. He’ll stay at the main entrance to Theodore to keep ‘em from getting out that way whiles I go and get others to watch the herds and fix the fence.

“In the meantime, you and James here stay and watch for our uninvited guests, but stay out of sight.”

“And if they come back before you do?” James asked.

Theo gave him a grimacing smile, “Von knows what to do.”

We wished Theo luck as he crawled back into his saddle and raced off with Anderson, pausing only to raise a hand in farewell.

James and I rode the opposite direction to the next hill, where we were half hidden by some tall scraggly brush and would have the setting sun at our backs, further obscuring us from view. With nothing else to do we settled down and waited.

By the time night descended on us massive thunderheads had gathered overhead and had begun to drop their rain turning the night nearly pitch black, damp, and more than a little uncomfortable.

James and I had talked little during our long watch but with the rain droning out most other noise we both felt safer to speak without alerting anyone who could be nearby.

“Do you think they’ll be the same as that group from a few years ago?” he asked.

“I hope not.” I clutched my bow tighter without thinking, “I hope we never have to deal with the likes of them ever again.”

People in cities tended to think of themselves as the betters of us lowly country folk. After all they were better educated, were more open minded and progressive. We had a few names for them too but we settled for calling them the collectively stupid. Amazing how quickly such educated, progressive thinking people fell into madness and terror when their supply chain gets cut off. Then they become no different than the lowest of the low, killing and stealing all for the sake of themselves no matter who it hurts, or if it kills them in the long run.

That’s exactly what happened two years ago. A large group of the collective stupid had come to claim the bison in the park for their own. We tried to get them to leave, to explain how the husbandry of these animals worked and how the meat would spoil before they even got half way back to the city, if they even survived their hair brained idea at all.

Out of the thirty collective that came in, only five had gone home after the rest of them had ended up dead, in one way or another out in the badlands.

James’ hand on my arm shook me out of the memory; I could just barely see him put a finger to his lips as he pointed to the plateau below us. It was Sage’s herd being driven by a group of 4 men towards the gap in the gate. In a rage, I leapt from our hiding spot and whistled a warning sharp and loud. Sage knew my call and screamed in equal rage as the herd erupted into chaos, horses running every which way and the horse thieves barely able to control their own mounts in the confusion.

I smiled and nocked my bow, ready to pick off the first one when blinding pain ripped through me followed by a loud crack of thunder.

No not thunder, a gun.

I saw the rider only for an instant, on the opposite hill that led to Medora, sitting upon a large pale horse, before I hit the ground and the storm loosed its full fury upon us blinding everyone. The last this I heard was James calling my name before my world went black.