8 The Pale Rider (1/2)

A star shape was shown on the screen.

The mob erupted into an uproar of grumbles, cackles and hearty yelling.

Jensen raced to the Bookie Knight and excitedly received his hefty wad of white paper stubs.

”Daro.” Wilfred explained on the white paper stubs, which was the currency for Apocalypse.

The tavern resumed its typical merry and relaxed atmosphere once the betting was called off for the night, and the screen had returned to blank.

I was glad that no one approached us, although a few cordial nods and thumbs up went our way.

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I felt dizzy after a mug of ale had gone down my belly. I was seeing the place through a blur.

”_Ai-sheesh_ man. Famisto's gettin' drunk.” War noticed with slurred concern.

”c.r.a.p. He had a mug of ale. Not good.” Death's voice rang in and out of my ears.

My heart pounded through my eardrums as my dizziness persisted.

”Wuz yah saa'n?” I slurred.

”Fami... sto?” War's voice broke in and out of my ears.

I was beginning to see stars around everyone's blurry faces.

_”Onii-san.”_

My heart slowed dangerously. Now I know I was drunk to hear Pesti's voice clearly in my mind.

_”Onii-san.”_

His voice became louder and distinct.

Darkness flicked across my vision. I thought I heard cursing and shouting.