Well, a fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam,
It was worth it just to learn from sleight of hand,
Bad news comes,
Don't you worry,
Even when it lands,
Good news will work its way to all them plans.
We both got fired on exactly the same day,
Well we'll float on,
Good news is on the way

-Modest Mouse, Float On

6

"Favorite food of Man."

Fury bit her bottom lip as Strife spoke up from in behind her, his annoying, monotonous voice beginning to cause a migraine to grow right between her eyes. Even Orion's back tensed. Instead of answering her twin, she released her breath slowly and followed Orion at a faster pace.

"Mine has to be... Chicken. Okay, how about book? What's your favorite, all time story that any Man has written? Mine is something called Robin Hood."
Rolling her eyes, Fury's hands balled into a fist on either side of her body and she struggled to control the wave of anger. This had been going on for the last four hours. They had stopped a couple of times since Strife was having 'uncontrollable bathroom urges' since he was drinking water again for the first time in centuries. And they had stopped again because Strife had been dying from hunger. It took every ounce, every bit of Fury's control not to smash his pathetic head in every time that her twin brother called out an excuse to stop. Orion was becoming annoyed as well and he couldn't even interact with Strife any longer.

The only thing that she could think of that made sense was Strife's lost of immortality; unlike her brothers, Fury had not been wounded by one of the ash creations so she had not been infected directly. However, she could her strength diminishing with every passing hour. Her talent of speaking the language of Earth's animals -which was already limited, though War, having been born with a special trait to do so, could perfectly understand any animal on any planet- was slowly disappearing, causing her conversations with Orion to be short and blunt. It seemed like she was becoming tired; a soreness had began to seep through her muscles and her footsteps weren't as trustworthy as before. She could only assume that she needed rest though she knew that she wouldn't be allowed such a thing until later. The thought of bringing their horse should have been done.

"Favorite song," Strife exclaimed passionately and Fury responded with another eye roll. This had perhaps always been Strife's one weakness; a good song always left him ogling and with a silly grin on his face. While the other Horsemen could tolerate music -it wasn't exactly a Nephilim thing- Strife pursued it with a passion.

"As of right now, my favorite song is 'If You Don't be Quiet, I Will Rip You a New Asshole.' There."

The White Horseman stayed silent for a moment and Fury crossed her fingers.

"That's stupid; how could a song like that even appeal to people to sing?" Strife commented curiously as Fury moaned in frustration. "My favorite has to be Billie Jean by Michael Jackson."
"A band of the Kingdom of Man, I presume?"

"Singer, actually. Weird guy, but hell could he sing. Man have the best music. They're the only species that I know of that act like that can't survive without music." His hand caught one of the tree branches and he brandished it toward Fury with a wide grin. "Half the time the music is about making love anyways. The ladies love it."

Face-palming, Fury grumbled to herself before turning back to Orion. The Stag had stopped, standing proudly upon a small hill that overlooked a landscape that Fury had yet to see. At first, Fury had been suspicious of following the buck. War swore that the animal could be trusted; the Stag had been the creature that had led him to the ash beast in the first place. But Fury had her doubts. Earth was not like many planets. Here the inhabitants were weak, having become too pampered and too busy destroying each other. The Kingdom of Man was a strange subject to discuss. Tempted by both Angel and Demon, Man had a possibility of having both the traits of Heaven and Hell; while Nephilim were the children of Demon and Angel, they were usually a perfect balance of both unless acted upon a force on either side. Man had no control like anything else either. Their world was slowly dying, killing off the place that they live and the animals and plants that they share it with. She, however, had not expected the animals of Earth to be simple minded. They were all frightened over the Demons of Hell more than they were the Angels of Heaven; here the tables were the same and both sides killed the animals of Earth without much of thought, Hell because they could and Heaven because they thought the animals would go to a better place anyways. Only the creatures that had experienced Heaven in action were scared. The presence of the Horsemen left the creatures jittery and nervous, though Orion acted fine. Perhaps it was because he knew that the Horsemen weren't there to hurt him.

The Stag of the forest turned his head toward the Black Horseman, ears perked and nostrils flaring. The lost of communication between him and the Horsemen had been a complicated thing to deal with until Orion had developed a simple series of gestures. At the moment, the buck flicked his ear toward the landscape he was standing above and focused back upon it.

"She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene, I said don't mind, but what do you mean, I am the one-"

Fury took the last step to stand beside Orion and felt herself immediately relax. They were there. The farm itself was small; there only appeared to be three fenced in pastures, two fields that were sprouting crops, and the barn was a leaning building that looked more broken than fixed. Dirt paths flowed through the land and met either in front of the barn or a large two-story white house with a black roof. Only one tree was in the little farm; it stood proudly among the house with beautiful pink blossoms. With the reminisce of her Nephilim sight, Fury could just see two figures, both beside what appeared to be a wounded animal lying in one of the dirt paths.

"Who will dance on the floor in the round, She said I am the one who will dance on the floor in the round."

"Is this the farm?" Fury questioned, looking at Orion.

The Stag made a grunting noise before dipping his head once in a nod. Then, with proud, high steps, the buck began to walk down the hill toward one of the fields that contained plants taller than her with green stalks and yellow buds of something.

Strife's singing trailed off, thankfully, as they approached the stalks of what Fury concluded to be corn after a moment's examination. When she and Orion began walking through the stalks, Strife lingered outside of them. "Uh, Fury, what are these things?" He looked hesitant to enter the corn field when Fury turned to glare at him.

"It's just corn," she reassured him, hearing Orion's amused snort from nearby. Already, only a few feet in, she had lost sight of the buck and could just hardly see Strife; the only thing that saved him was his maroon scarf.

"Completely harmless. Do not tell me, brother, that you are scared of plants?"

"No." The usual, smartass remark Strife had always wasn't there this time and Fury pursed her lips. "I... I just have a weird feeling about this."

Standing there, in the middle of a cornfield, it was then that Fury's senses began to go off. Strife had always been good at knowing strange movement that didn't fit in and apparently he hadn't lost that talent turning human. Which was great; perhaps that meant that Fury would be able to continue to see in thermal energy for a couple of seconds, something that she wouldn't mind keeping. But, sometimes, like this instant, it was Strife's talent that was more useful sometimes.

Whipping around, Fury narrowed her eyes, making use of her weakened eyesight slightly stronger by limiting the light. White flashed behind Strife not too far away; Angels. "Angels!" she barked out, one hand reaching out for her whip as she flung the other one around, activating the claws upon her gauntlet (that was easily three times smaller than War's) with a simple flick of her wrist. A snarl appeared on her tattooed face as she took several steps forward to make herself known as her whip sailed through the corn to reveal a small area of the tips of their stalks.
Orion bounced through the corn and once more out of sight as Strife sprinted by her at full speed with his pistols drawn. Angels, white and brilliant in the morning light, flapped up and over the tree lines. Their weapons flashed and she counted at least a dozen -an entire squadron must have came, which was strange since they were more comfortable with speed instead of numbers. Two of the larger Angels heaved Redemption Cannons toward her -large guns that blasted energy forcefully- and she dove to the side as they pulled their triggers. The ground where she had stood only moments ago exploded in dirt and fried corn. She landed easily on her feet and flung up her whip, the hissing noise as it raced and pulsed through the air loud and distracting. Her target was just turning his head, Redemption Cannon hanging loosely from his hands, when her weapon sliced clean through his armor and neck, decapitating him cleanly. Fury was beginning to begin another attack, the head only just falling to the ground as the body fell like dead weight, when something collided into her back and she fell forward.

Scrambling onto her hands as her whip slammed into the ground nearby, Fury quickly flipped herself over onto her back to see what was behind her. Her yellow eyes widened as a large creature rose from the cornfields above her. As if forgotten, the Angels focused upon this new figure, the gun fire booming over her head and flashing brightly against the hide of the creature. It was here that Fury saw the features of it. Huge fangs glistened on the side of its mouth, beady red eyes glared out at the Angels, and claws almost as long as it slashed out at the corn in anger. Bumpy skin red and blotchy was stretched across the huge being's body. With a roar the Demon, which that was certainly what it was, swung its arms and leapt clear across the last of the cornfield, snatching an Angel from the sky to bite his head right off. As Heavenly blood split, Fury glanced up just in time to see another Demon bulldoze through the corn to collide into the other half of the Angels.
A hand grasped onto Fury's shoulder. She turned to punch whatever had grabbed her and froze when she saw Strife, white mask covering his face, standing above her. Without hesitating, the White Horseman pulled her to her feet with one arm while keeping one of his pistols trained upon the scrimmage; perhaps it was because some of his Nephilim strength remained, but it also could have been that even mortal he was that strong. Fury paused long enough to make sure that the Angels and Demons were preoccupied with one another before turning and following Strife.

"Dammit! I knew that something was wrong!" Strife growled, batting aside corn as he ran, pistol still drawn.
For a few seconds Fury didn't answer.

She was much more busy wrapping up her whip, curling the weapon about into a small, tight circle before placing it on her hip and sheathing her retractable claws. Then she remember an important piece of information. "Wait! Where's Orion?"

"Shit. Of course that happens too."

Instead of stopping to gather their surroundings, Fury pressed onward even though Strife slowed from his fast sprint. "We keep moving," she snapped. He moaned, but his footsteps echoed along behind hers.

Sounds of the fighting eventually disappeared as the Horseman ran through the cornfield at top speed. Eventually, however, Strife began to slow down; his pants were loud and harsh as he fought to continue running as Fury managed to stay strong. There was a slight straining feeling beginning to develop in her chest but she ignored it the best that she could. She focused mainly on wondering how long the cornfield was or Orion the Stag could be ahead of them. Her thoughts were still wandering when Strife screamed in behind her and she turned fast enough to see her twin brother and a demon hurtling through the corn sideways.

Cursing, Fury bolted off to the side. After a few steps she was bursting free from the corn, which made her feel more than stupid; the entire time they had been running alongside the perimeter of the field. Her gaze locked upon her brother and the Demon as she ran down the hill. Strife's pistol went off several times, his other hand grabbing onto the Demon's head as he prepared for the killing shot. Limbs flailing, Fury found it hard to focus upon who was who even as she pulled free her whip once more, randomly flinging it toward the two. A snapping noise sounded as it wrapped about an arm; a screech followed as the Demon shrieked loudly and tossed Strife from its chest. Fury almost shouted out in surprise when the Demon seized her whip and yanked her back toward it.
As she dug her heels into the ground, she realized just how much that she had lost turning into one of Man. Before, she could easily lift up a Demon of this size -larger too if she really wanted- and throw it at least a mile. Now she couldn't even cause it to flinch. By now she could feel the beast's hot breath against her face as it continued to pull her steadily toward itself with a rumbling, evil laugh building in its chest. She glared at it before unsheathing her claws. The Demon had no clue what she was about to do as she raised her hand, a snarl on her face as she transferred her remaining strength into striking the Demon's face as it lifted her up into the air.

She was half expecting to meant ash instead of skin as her claws connected to the Demon's left cheek. It reared back immediately, scratching furiously, and roared out in pain. A second or two passed with Fury suspended in the air; the Demon certainly did not lack anything in height.

Everything happened so quickly after that. A bullet went through the Demon's head, buzzing clean through the side of its head, and the Demon stumbled back a few steps before falling upon its left side, mouth opened loosely and eyes wide in shock. She smacked down a few seconds later and screamed as pain like she had never felt before pulsed up through her right arm. All feeling disappeared and she gasped at the air greedily as she forced herself onto her knees, gripping onto her arm as she tried to overcome the shock that was spreading through her body. When she glanced down, she couldn't help but to notice how limp that her arm was.

Whimpering Fury looked up to find her brother not looking at her. Confusion flickered through her and she followed his stunned gaze as she began to feel dizzy from the cloud of pain. She found herself even more confused when she saw a woman with an average face, average brown hair, and an average appearance standing there with a shotgun propped up on her shoulder. The woman wasn't tall, but she wasn't short. Her brown hair wasn't long, but it wasn't short. Nothing about her clothes made her look as if she was rich but the high quality of them suggested that she had money to spare. The shape of her face made her age to appear to be in her early or mid thirties and, by the firm glint in her brown eyes, she had experience and wisdom in living. Wearing a thick jacket, dark pants, and a pair of boots with her brown hair already falling from her ponytail, she looked ready to be out working in the field. Everything about the woman seemed so average.

Until someone noticed that her hands were covered in slick, red blood.

"I'll suppose that you two are new around here," the woman spoke clearly, her voice containing no accent of Man that Fury could determine and with a sense of arrogance. "Nobody just tackles a Demon or run through a cornfield."

Strife and Fury exchanged a look; the White Horseman must have known to speak as his twin had tears beginning to fall from her yellow eyes. "You can definitely say that," he said slowly.
The woman looked at them again before another voice in behind her called out. An old man, easily in his sixties, if not older, jogged out from behind a hill with concern written over his wrinkled face that was mostly hidden by a well-trimmed beard. On his head sat a ruined cowboy hat, decorated by little beads tied in by string and a brown, black, and white feather that stuck out the side of his hat. His clothes were stained and destroyed from what appeared to be hours of work. There was a liveliness in his blue eyes that defied his age despite his completely white beard, bald head, and wrinkled skin.

"Jessica? What the hell is goin' on 'ere?"

Fury's eyes narrowed as she stood to her feet weakly. She ignored her arm the best that she could, seeing that it was mostly just flopping around uselessly. Her eyes flickered to both sides around her and couldn't help but to notice that Orion was standing in the distance. The Stag was half in the shadows of another small cornfield no where near the size of the one that they had ran through earlier, his large rack being the only thing visible on the proud buck. Slowly turning her eyes toward the now arguing old man and the woman named Jessica, Fury realized that this was the farm that Orion had said that could shelter them.

"We are here for shelter," she exclaimed, causing the two to look at her strangely, stopping their disagreement. "We were told that this farm could provide that."

"We don't know who the hell ya are," grunted the old man.

"I don't take in stragglers. I have enough problems as it is," Jessica snapped, placing a hand on her hip.
Fury's attention was drawn to her hands once more; red stained them and colored them a disturbing glossy color. "Right now I'm busy saving your asses from Demons, about to go make sure that everything is okay with that little firefight with the Angels and Demons in that cornfield, and then go take care of a wounded horse that turned up on my land recently."

"There are eight of us in total. Four horses, four... Humans."

"I don't care how many of you there are." Jessica paused, sighing as she shook her head. "I'm in a bad position right now, alright? If there's eight of you, then where are the others?"

Shooting a glance at Strife, the White Horseman stepped forward. "We left our horses back with our injured brothers. One of them is no shape to travel." Suddenly, a large grin appeared across Strife's face and Fury moaned. Her silent prayers of him not to speak weren't fulfilled as he added smugly, "A pretty face like yours should be able to get out of any 'bad position' that you're in."

Just like Fury figured, Jessica's face plummeted and the old man stormed up to Strife, a 49 caliber pistol in his hand and waving threateningly at Strife. "Watch yore mouth, boy! I ain't 'fraid to shoot it off!"

"And I'm not afraid to do the same to your ugly face."

"Now ya've done it!" barked the old man, stomping once as if to shut Strife up. "Now ya've gone and barked up the wrong tree! I'm gonna-"

"John!"

With a huff, the old man turned away from Strife and continued past Jessica until he had walked back and over the hill. The woman turned her piercing gaze back upon Fury where a silent understanding flashed between them. They were in control -the two men opinions truly didn't matter all that much at the moment. Strife was being a jackass and John had gotten mad and wandered off.

"Who are you?" Jessica demanded as she crossed her arms.

Fury straightened the best that she could through the slight pull in her back and then the pain that was beginning to grow numb in her arm. She thought for a moment, thinking about the consequences of telling the woman who they truly were. With their weakened conditions, word could catch wind and the Horsemen could be hunted before they could correct whatever was wrong with them. The shelter here, if the woman granted it, would be convenient; with only a two day travel away, Fury could wander off to go and study the ash almost any time that she pleased. But that was if the woman let them and it would probably be better if she didn't know their true identity.

"My name is Fury and this is my brother Strife. Our other brothers, Death and War, are currently residing half a day's travel in the woods."

"Fury? Strife? Death? War?" Jessica repeated slowly, lifting an eyebrow. "What kind of names are those?"

The Horsewoman paused to glare at the daughter of Eve. There was an air of power around her; she obviously knew that she was in charge and wasn't afraid to show it. And it was a strange thing to experience. Though Fury knew that there was a large height difference between the Kingdom of Man and then the Nephilim race as a whole, she was pretty positive that this woman was extremely short. It was almost adorable, how short that she was. However, it was her aura and the way that she held herself seemed more powerful than what she truly was. The almost childish brown curls around her face didn't help.

"Look, right now is sort of a bad moment." Jessica ran her hand through her hair, pausing to glance over her shoulder where the old man had disappeared. "We're both struggling to take care of a wounded horse that appeared not even an hour ago in my front yard. Then at least a dozen demons show up and now you guys. What the hell is going on?"

"If I knew what was going on, I would tell you," Fury said softly as she continued to grip upon her painful arm.

Jessica snorted before pinching the bridge of her nose. "Whatever. But-"

A screech blasted through the air then, causing Fury to turn around just fast enough to catch a wingbeat and then a sharp pain pinching into her shoulders. Her feet left the ground and she was screaming before she even noticed it. Her right arm was completely useless; instead she gripped at a scaly leg as hard as she could with her surviving arm, her screams becoming short and panicked as she flailed frantically. The sound of a gun went off and warmth splattered across her face. A plummeting feeling pitted in her stomach and she bit the ground hard, rolling several times before she was grabbed and helped to her feet once more.

Strife's voice was in her ear, asking if she was okay, but she could hardly answer as another claw tore down her back, scooping her up and ripping her away from her twin brother all at once. Again she screamed, this time noticing the whip-like tail of a demon as it snapped around in front of her face. Another bird-like screech exploded through the air and Fury gasped when she saw three other demons flying near the one that held her. Their already disgusting faces were twisted in large smiles and drool dripped from their jaws. One was cut down from the sky rather quickly as a bullet entered the side of its head; it dropped immediately down into the cornfields below. The others never once slowed down, continuing to only fly higher as Fury dangled in the leader's clutches.

Turning over her shoulder, Fury was able to see the silhouettes of a farm down below. Now things seemed to be even more complicated than what it had been before.

And now she was captured by demons.