Behold a white horse,

And its rider had a bow,

And a crown was given to him,

And he went out conquering and to conquer.

REVELATION 6:2

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A mare, her coat as white as Sam's hair, stood next to Sam, eating grass leisurely, like she belonged. Her hair was matted and teeming with maggots. Foam dripped from her lips, and a milky film covered her pupils, meaning she was also blind. Sam didn't seem to notice the various things that ailed the horse as he ran his fingers through her scraggly mane.

"Sam," Helmer said lowly. "Why is there a disease-ridden horse in my garden?" The message about the horsemen made him feel wary.

Sam smiled. "Her name is Abalone."

"Isn't that a type of clam? And you named her?"

"I didn't name her. She told me her name." Sam seemed to think it was perfectly normal for a horse to talk.

Maybe he needs these meds more than he thinks, Helmer thought.

"I'm not crazy," Sam replied, as if reading his mind. "Haven't you ever talked to an animal in a way no one else understood?"

"No." Helmer shook his head. "Are you sure it isn't contagious?"

"She," Sam corrected. "And yes, I'm sure."

Helmer sighed. "Fine. Just make sure it doesn't eat my flowers."

"Flowers make her sick anyway."

Helmer set the multitude of bags down, instructing Sam to take what he wanted. "Summer's almost over, so take a few hoodies."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "'I-heart-NY'? Really?"

"It was the best I could do under the circumstances."

Then Sam changed clothes while Helmer looked away, fixated on a tulip. A bee flew by and landed on the flower to pollinate it.

"I'm done."

Helmer turned around to see Sam garbed in the hoodie and jeans, his feet still bare, sitting cross-legged beside the horse. The sweater was too big for him, hanging off his scrawny frame while disguising the full extent of his malnutrition.

"So is... Abalone, staying with us now?"

Please say no. Please, please please please-

"Yup," Sam said seriously. "I mean, she eats plants, so we don't have to feed her."

"I see." Helmer found himself using the 'I'm-pretending-like-it's- interesting-and-it's-actually-sort-of-disgusting-but-I'm-going-to-tolerate-it-because-you're-a-little-kid' voice he used to use with his little cousins. "But we're in the city, where there aren't very many open fields to graze on."

"She'll eat anything," Sam assured him. "The grass on sidewalks, leaves from trees-"

"No wonder she's so freaking sick," Helmer muttered.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Look, I know you're not a fan, but she can be useful." His tone was hopeful.

Helmer eyed Abalone again, internally screaming at the amount of flies gathering around her crusted eyelids. He was also pretty freaking sure there was freaking moss freaking growing on the freaking horse.

"How can a mangy, flea-infested, rabies-ridden horse possibly be useful?" Helmer demanded.

"She can carry our stuff on her back," Sam said, grinning. "So we don't have to carry all our stuff."

"I'm pretty sure her back will break if we put anything on it."

"Not true!" Sam insisted. He got to his feet. "I could get on her right now and she'd be fine!"

"Hey, hey," Helmer said, gently pulling him away from the frothing animal. "Why don't you just go inside and take your pills? And eat some food, you're going to waste away."

Sam paused, and then reluctantly followed Helmer inside the church.

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Helmer gave him the flip-flops to wear and a can of baked beans to eat. While Sam used his fingers to scoop out the food, Helmer pulled out the IV and wrapped a bandage around his arm. Without it, he almost looked like a normal kid who really loved his hometown.

When he finished, Sam jumped right back up, radiating restless kid energy. "So can I ride Abalone now?"

Helmer groaned. He wished dearly that Abalone had taken off for better grazing, but a quick glance outwards dashed his hopes. "Bareback? And in flip-flops?" Helmer had changed clothes too, and it was rejuvenating to get out of the same stuff he had been wearing for weeks, but they would have to move when resources were completely exhausted, and Helmer was thinking about Central Park. Abalone would have plenty of space to roam and there was shelter.

"Yes," Sam deadpanned, and marched back out to the front. "She won't hurt me."

"I don't really think-"

Sam interrupted him with a loud scoff, and strode over to the munching horse. To Helmer's surprise, Abalone nickered jovially and nuzzled Sam's hand.

"Okay," Sam murmured. "I'm gonna get on you now, alright?"

Abalone uttered a low sound that could be translated as "That's fine with me" or "I will kill you if you try to get on my back". Helmer, the skeptic that he was, assumed the latter.

"Do you even know how to ride a horse?" Helmer inquired, nibbling a fingernail.

Sam nodded. "My dad used to take me riding." The smile vanished, replaced with tight-lipped grimace. He didn't explained any further, but Helmer sympathized. He hadn't lost his mom to the disease - she died in a plane crash - but he still missed her every day. The first few months were the worst, and Sam's wounds were still fresh. Helmer couldn't imagine.

Then Sam braced himself on Abalone, not seeming to mind the fungus-ridden hair, and draped himself over the horse in one swift movement. Abalone held perfectly still as Sam adjusted his grip so he was sitting upright. It would have been graceful and cool, if Abalone didn't look like she was going to keel over any second.

Helmer chewed his nails down to nubs as Sam gripped a fistful Abalone's coarse mane and squeezed her sides gently. Without any resistance, she began to move forward slowly, allowing Sam to guide her around cars and debris. Considering everything that afflicted the poor animal, Abalone walked relatively smoothly, and by the echoing of her hooves, the horseshoes seemed to be in decent shape.

"Can she go any faster?" Helmer asked cautiously, taking up a stride beside them, making sure he didn't touch Abalone.

Sam shrugged. To Abalone, he said, "Can we go a bit faster? Yeah?" Abalone seemed hesitant, probably due to the fact she couldn't see what lay ahead, but with a few more murmurs of encouragement, she broke out into a relaxed trot. Helmer jogged to keep up.

A crooked grin spread over Sam's face, and despite himself, Helmer started smiling too.

After surveying the landscape for impediments, Sam suggested, "How about a canter eh?" He clicked his tongue, and Abalone began to run. The wind ruffled Sam's hair. He threw his hands in the air and let out a shout of glee, and Helmer watched in awe as rider and horse became one on the horizon.

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