Fifth Rider of the Apocalypse

Chapter 1

   Jacob stood at the top of a hill just outside town. As his eyes adjusted to the predawn darkness, he could see the world below him bathed in deep shadows. A cold breeze stirred tendrils of icy mist emanating from the inky lake below sending a shiver through his being. Directly across from him on a lofty hill to the east, were four riders on tremendous steeds, silhouetted in the pale light of the rising sun. They were a bit much in his opinion, overkill on the part of the university. Yes, the document mentioned riders, but he felt they were metaphorical references rather than actual beings. If anyone had asked him, Jacob would have told them the end of the world should be spectacular enough without cheap theatrics.

   Not that he actually believed the world was coming to an end, per say. The prophecies from the document he uncovered did mention some pretty dramatic events, but he viewed most of them more as an indicator of major change than the end of all things, an allegory, nothing more. Sure, he expected some of the mentioned events to take place, maybe the heavy winds or sudden change in temperature, after all, the times, date and location were very specific . As for the rest, Jacob was more skeptical. The university's insistence on hiring actors to herald the start of these events made him the butt end of every joke told by family, friends, and colleagues alike.

   He endured it all stoically, knowing that despite the university's publicity stunt, his work was about to be placed in the spotlight, providing him with job security for a long time to come. The sheer thought of success made him shiver. But mostly he shivered because in his haste to get out of the house and secure a good spot, he had neglected to grab his coat or put on proper shoes. A sweater and socks might have helped ward off the chill, but leaving his coat behind had definitely been a mistake. Jacob debated for a moment going back to retrieve it, but then decided against it. It was already close to the time everything was supposed to start and to leave would mean giving up his spot.

   As it was, he nearly missed the event altogether, waking only after being disturbed by noise of his neighbors pulling lawn chairs out of their shed. Cursing his faulty alarm clock, he untangled himself from his sheets and dressed in the first thing that came to his hand, a crumpled pair of jeans off the floor and a dirty white tee shirt left draped over a chair the night before. After a frantic and fruitless search for his cell phone to document the momentous occasion, and desperate not to miss the event altogether, he raced out, barely taking the time to slip an old pair of flip flops. He rubbed his arms trying to keep warm, his wiry frame shaking as he stamped his feet against the frosted ground while fingers of anticipation grasped his heart.

   "Hey Jacob." Called a neighbor.

   "Hey." Jacob struggled to keep his tone casual over the chattering of his teeth.

   "Want a glass of wine?"

   "Uh, no thanks. I'm good." Jacob didn't care for wine and thought it was a little early in the day to start drinking.

   The man shrugged and poured himself a glass. "Suit yourself."

   Minutes crawled by as the red orb behind the horsemen slowly rose to cast their shadows along the hillside. To the north, darkened objects began coming to life; houses in town grew down to their foundations, the outline of the boats bobbing up and down in the small harbor sharpened, and the forest beyond emerged in brilliant fuschia. Dotted collections of people were now visible on both hillsides, some standing in small groups, others, like his neighbors, seated in lawn chairs with picnics spread about them. A festive air surrounded them as they drank warm beverages or alcohol and munched on cheese and crackers.

   "So when do they start?" Asked the neighbor waving his wine glass in the direction of the eastern hill.

   "According to the records, it should begin as the sun breaks the crest of the hill."