Loss (Riders of the Apocalypse, Book 3) by Jackie Morse Kessler
By Jackie Morse Kessler
Jackie Morse Kessler's Riders of the Apocalypse sequence follows teenagers who're reworked into the 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
The 3rd publication within the Riders of the Apocalypse sequence, Loss, is ready a bullied teen who's tricked into changing into Pestilence, a Rider of the Apocalypse, and unearths himself with the ability to contaminate individuals with diseases.
Fifteen-year-old Billy Ballard is the child that everybody selections on. yet issues change
drastically whilst dying tells Billy he needs to stand in as Pestilence, the White Rider of
the Apocalypse. Now armed with a Bow that enables him to strike with affliction from
a distance, Billy lashes out at his tormentors...and by chance motives a virulent disease of
meningitis. Horrified through his activities, Billy begs dying to take again the Bow. For that to
happen, says loss of life, Billy needs to music down the genuine White Rider, and prevent him from
unleashing anything lousy on humanity—something which may make the Black
Plague appear like a summer time chilly. Does one bullied youngster have the power to stand
his ground—and the braveness to avoid wasting the realm
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Extra info for Loss (Riders of the Apocalypse, Book 3)
Sample text
But I guess that’s not the point now, is it? ” The Slip Once she was gone, I downed another cola, then took a hot shower and shaved. I was down to the bottom on just about everything—soap, shampoo, shaving cream. I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair, rubbed on body lotion, cleaned my ears. Then to the kitchen to heat up the last of the coffee. Only to discover: no one sitting at the opposite side of the table. Staring at that chair where no one sat, I felt like a tiny child in a De Chirico painting, left behind all alone in a foreign country.
Such things happened often enough, so how could I think her leaving me was anything out of the ordinary? The long and the short of it was, it was up to her. “The long and short of it is, it’s up to you,” I said. It was a Sunday afternoon, as I dawdled with a pull-ring from a beer can, that she came out with it. Said she wanted a divorce. ” she asked, releasing her words slowly. “No, either way is not fine with me,” I said. ” “If you want to know the truth, I don’t want to leave you,” she said after a moment.
Sex with her with her ears exposed was an experience I’d never known. When it was raining, the smell of the rain came through crystal clear. When birds were singing, their song was a thing of sheer clarity. I’m at a loss for words, but that’s what it was like. ” I once asked her. “Of course not,” she said. ” “A duty. Dry and tasteless, like chewing newsprint. But that’s okay. ” “Then you ought to show them,” I said. ” For sure, there were a lot of things I didn’t understand at all. For instance, the reason why she treated me special.