In the corridor outside, there is the wet, sickening sound of a blade cutting through flesh.
The police chief’s scream is short-lived, cut off with a horrible gurgling noise. I don’t need to see it to know what has happened. The Horseman has taken down the fourth member.
Still, I run out of the ruined hall and into the corridor beyond. As I turn the corner, I feel the air thickening, an undeniable surge of power as the Horseman grows stronger after taking another life. He’s galloping away, but even from a distance, he looks more solid than before. The heavy sound of hooves fades, swallowed by the night.
Silence settles over the building once more.
What remains of the police chief lies sprawled across the floor. Blood is still gushing from the gaping hole where his head used to be.
I stand there, breathless, my mind racing to process what I just saw, what I just survived. “So, it’s all true,” I whisper.
Ichabod is panting beside me, twisting his wrists in an attempt to loosen the ties.
“Which means he won’t stop until all of them are dead,” he says. “And there are only two left.”
It’s only Ichabod and I left in the building. My father and the priest have disappeared. If the Horseman won’t stop until all members of the secret society are dead, then that means my father is still a target. With every person he kills, the Horseman is getting stronger.
I meant what I said, I don’t want anyone else to die. Despite his warped sense of protection, I can’t stand by and let the Horseman hunt down my father. But I also refuse to let anyone else be killed in an attempt to bind the Horseman back where he belongs.
“We have to stop him, before it’s too late.”
I don’t particularly want to hang around the university, but my legs still feel weak, so Ichabod guides me to a nearby classroom and we slip inside. The room is dark, but thin light streams through the windows, giving us just enough to see by.
He heads straight for the desk at the front of the room and begins rummaging through the drawers.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“These,” he replies, holding up a pair of scissors and pressing them into my hands. “Little help?” he asks softly.
I finally free his bound wrists. We stand together for a moment, close, hands held between us as I look up into his grey eyes. I could stand here, looking into those eyes forever, but tiredness overwhelms me. We break apart, I sink into the closest chair.
He collapses into the chair next to mine. We sit in silence for a moment, both trying to process what just happened. I’m not sure I ever will.
“Thank you,” he says. “For saving my life. I think they really would have gone through with it if you hadn’t shown up. But you could have been killed tonight, you shouldn’t have come for me.”
“You clearly don’t know me at all, Mr Crane,” I say, sarcastic but weary from the events of the night. “And you know you would have done the same for me.”
“I would tear this town apart for you, Katrina. But how did you know where to find me?”
“Oh, I followed you after you were arrested. It isn’t as mad as it sounds, I promise.” I laugh. “Something just didn’t feel right, and eventually, they led me here.” The adrenalin can’t have left my system yet, because recounting my chase across the town is suddenly the funniest thing to have ever happened. Soon, we’ve both descended into fits of laughter, tears of mirth rolling down my cheeks.
Finally, we manage to catch our breath. I cough and wipe my eyes.
“Oh god, we shouldn’t be laughing like this. Ichabod, what are we going to do?”
He sighs. “Well, I can’t say I’mthatopposed to letting the Horseman take down your father, personally.” There’s no humour in his voice. Seeing my expression, he carries on hurriedly. “But obviously, we can’t let that happen. I don’t know, I’ve been researching the Horseman, but I’ve never come across anything about stopping him. As far as I know, it’s only been done once.” He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “If your father says that was done by human sacrifice, well…” He trails off.
My shoulders sag and I feel a pang of guilt. Ichabod’s shirt is still ripped open from where my father and his strange secret society had tried to kill him, and here I am asking for his help in saving their lives. But my father was right. This is bigger than any one of us. We can’t let the Horseman come to full strength.
"There has to be a way to stop him before he kills anyone else,” I say, hoping I sound more convincing than I feel.
Ichabod nods. “If there is, we’ll find it. But there’s nothing that can be done tonight.”
He takes my hand, his thumb trailing along my knuckles. He leans down and kisses my hand, turns it over, and kisses my wrist.
“You really did save my life,” he says, his voice husky. “How can I ever repay you?”
“I’m sure you’ve already thought of some ways,” I reply coyly.
