Praying for Rain (Praying for Rain Trilogy, #1)(54)

The Franklin Springs Cinema wasn’t exactly hard to break into. Now, figuring out how to work the projector, that took a minute.

“I would have taken you to dinner too, but I can’t exactly afford to pay sixty-eight bucks for an Apocasized King Meal right now.”

Rain giggles and pats the cardboard bucket in her lap. “I’d rather eat stale popcorn for the rest of my life than step foot in that place again.”

“That’s good because it might come down to that.” I smile and kiss the top of her head.

It feels so fucking weird, being on a date with this girl. I mean, I’ve dated lots of girls, but it was always an exchange. An understood transaction. With Rain, I just … want to make her happy.

“Aquaman?” she asks as the opening credits begin to roll.

“What? It was that or Dumbo.”

A flirty grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I’m not complaining.”

“Oh, really? You gotta thing for Jason Momoa, huh?”

“No.” She drops her eyes, and I can see the blush rising to her cheeks, even in the darkened auditorium. “But I might have a thing for another guy with tattoos.”

“I fucking hope so,” I say, pulling her into my lap as her squeals compete with the booming speakers.

When I glance back at the screen, Jason Momoa is carrying a rescued fisherman into a bar. The camera pans from a table full of fishermen to the counter where he’s ordering a shot of whiskey. The movement is so fluid, so fast, that I almost miss it, but I swear, on the wall of the bar, I saw a red banner with a black horseman on it.

“Did you see that?” I ask without taking my eyes off the screen.

“See what?”

“That banner.”

Rain looks around the room. “Where?”

“Not here.” I point to the screen. “In the movie.”

“Really?”

I set her on her feet and stand up. “We should go.”

“Why? We just got here.”

“Because …” I gesture toward the screen as Jason Momoa snatches the bottle from the bartender and begins to chug. Then, I do a double take. The label on the bottle reads April 23. “Rain! Look!”

But, by the time she swings her head toward the screen, Jason has already smashed the bottle on the ground.

“Wes, I don’t see anything.”

“I think that’s the point.”

I grab her hand and sprint out of the auditorium and toward the main exit. The second we enter the lobby, four black-and-red banners unfurl from the ceiling, separating us from our escape. We’re running too fast to stop, so I sweep my arm out to push one aside … and watch the image of the horseman dissolve into tiny pixels of light around my hand. I turn around, but from behind, it looks just as real as the others.

“Wes, come on!”

Rain is tugging on my arm, but I barely feel it as I stare at the back of the floor-to-ceiling strip of fabric. Reaching out, I run my fingers along the surface again. I feel absolutely nothing as they pass through, leaving a digital trail of multicolored pixels in their wake.

“Look.” I do it again, this time sticking my whole arm through. “It’s not real.”

“Is that real?” The terror in her voice grabs my attention.

I swing my head around as the double doors burst open, and a smoke-spewing horse from hell charges through. The faceless, hooded motherfucker on his back swings his steel sword over his head in a flourish of swoops. I manage to push Rain out of the way before he strikes, closing my eyes and bracing for impalement, but when his blade slices through me, it feels like nothing more than a whoosh of air.

By the time I open my eyes, the horseman, the banners, all of it is gone.

It’s just me and Rain and a profound revelation.

None of this is real.



When I open my eyes, it takes me a minute to remember where I am. It’s dark outside, and I’m sore as fuck—both from digging graves all day and from sleeping on a plywood floor.

And probably from a few of the positions I twisted Rain into before I passed out.

I sit up and find her sitting with her back against the wall of the tree house and her legs straight out in front of her. She’s staring out the entrance, lost in thought. That is, until I stretch and five different joints all crack at once.

She jumps and turns toward me, her shoulders sagging in relief a moment later. “I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.”

“I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep,” I grumble, rubbing the back of my neck. “How long was I out?”

“I don’t know. An hour, maybe two?”

“And still no horsemen, huh?”

Rain shakes her head. “I’ve been hearing gunshots in the distance but no hooves. This shit is killing me, Wes. It wasn’t so bad when you were awake and …” She drops her eyes, and I can almost see her blush in the dark. “But, the whole time you were asleep, I’ve just been sitting here, waiting for the world to end. Why hasn’t it happened yet? What the fuck are they waiting for?” Her voice cracks at the end, and I know it won’t be long before she cracks, too.

I crawl over to her and kiss her worried brow. “I had a dream just now; it was like the nightmare, but … I think it was trying to tell me something. Come on.” I kiss her again before climbing down the ladder.