The horseman - part 1

When the hurricane struck, there was little that could stand in its path. Fleeing from my collapsing house, I saw my father’s fishing boat hurled high over the boardwalk, smashing to matchwood a good hundred yards up Main Street. Many were lost that night.

The rider sat calmly, black-robed on his pale horse, unmoved by the tempest which ripped up the town around him. I knew who he was, and could see that he was pleased with his work.

‘How dare you!’ I screamed in fury. ‘What did we ever do to you? You COWARD!’ I hurled a useless stone at him.

He looked at me, whatever face he wore hidden in the darkness beneath his hood. I thought my end had come although honestly did not care. Instead, he just turned and rode slowly away. The wind dropped soon afterwards but few had survived the onslaught.

I noted the path he took towards the rank swamps and thickets that clothe the delta. Retrieving only my shotgun and some provisions, I left the ruin of my home behind me and set off in pursuit.

He would have to watch his back now. Immortal or not, there would be a reckoning.