Five Ride Out

The last sandwich disappeared, the last bottle of ginger beer lay empty.
Julian looked at the setting sun. “It's time,” he said.
They fell silent.
Julian rose, and rising, changed. He grew tall, his boyish face thinning, emaciating, his smile replaced with a skeleton’s lipless grin.
Dick’s body swelled with thick, grotesque muscle. His skin turned to steel, jagged and edged with brutal spikes.
Anne stood, faded until she was only worm white flesh stretched taught over bone.
George’s body erupted with terrible sores, weeping flesh, the stench of sickness.
The Four rode out.
And Timmy the dog, of course.