Sunday, Oct. 22
“You still awake?” she asked in barely a whisper.
“Of course,” Quinn replied.
After visiting Anderson, the two of them had headed back to the hotel room to look through the files. They had tried unsuccessfully to find a VCR to watch the security tapes from Kate’s hotel, but the man at the front desk said there were none available. They had poured over the information until they couldn’t see straight.
There were a host of suspects in Anderson’s file: Laurence, Holden, Kyle, Buzz, Brown, even Johnny Redacker, Kate’s family friend. Everyone had been analyzed and dissected by Anderson, but no conclusions had been reached.
They had taken no chances themselves. Kate doubted Lord Halloween was busy following them-he was probably lining up his next victim-but the door was blocked by several pieces of furniture. They had picked a room on the sixth floor-the highest the hotel had-but even the door to the balcony was blocked, just in case Lord Halloween could somehow scale up the walls outside. Kate had also been adamant with staff-no employees were to come in under any circumstances. She had pretended it was for romantic reasons, after which the hotel manager had knowingly winked at Quinn.
But far from making out, they had laid pieces of files all over the bed and gone through them one by one. They had briefly grabbed food and returned to the room. Finally, around midnight, Kate had suggested they sleep. After the night before, Quinn didn’t think he could, but they had carefully reassembled Anderson’s file, gotten ready for bed and turned off the lights. Before they did so, Kate had put her gun on the table next to her.
But it still did not mean either were sleeping. For Quinn, the problem was two-fold. His dreams were as bad as real life. Chased in the real world, he fell asleep so he could be chased there too. The dreams, if anything, seemed to be even clearer now-if that was even possible.
It was the one thing he had not told Kate about and he knew that was most likely a mistake. After all, it may have something to do with Lord Halloween. But that seemed ridiculous to Quinn. He wondered if Comizio had ever called the police and what they thought. Quinn had talked to Janus yesterday, but per Kate’s insistence, had not told him where they were or any details of the night before. Janus did not bring up the horse story, either, and Quinn was more than happy to let it drop. It meant something, but he could not for the life of him figure out what.
If all that were not enough, Quinn had one additional problem, one he knew was neither crazy nor surprising. He had offered to sleep on the floor, but Kate had insisted he did not. It was a queen bed, she pointed out, and stupid that they couldn’t share it.
So now Quinn was in a position he might have killed for under different circumstances-he was sleeping with a beautiful woman in a private hotel room and nobody knew where they were. The perfect romantic weekend. He thought of the manager’s wink.
Only it wasn’t romantic. They were tired, scared and irritable, for starters. Second, they weren’t lovers. They had an air of intimacy like people who knew each other for longer than they really had-Quinn supposed being in a life or death situation would do that-but not the kind that a real couple has. They both changed separately in the bathroom and there was not even a kiss on the cheek to say goodnight.
But the only thought that pushed away the Headless Horsemen and a certain serial killer was Kate. While it gave Quinn comfort to think of her and be close to her, it was also highly distracting, even under these conditions. He was determined to be an honorable guy. Now was not the time to bring up conversations about mutual attraction or simply try to start something. Now was the time to plan, to prepare, to strategize-and yet here she was, gorgeous and in bed with him.
Quinn felt like he wanted to scream. If it was not his fear of an imminent and bloody death keeping him awake, it was his sex drive. What a fantastic day he was having.
So when she asked him if he was awake, he found the question downright funny.
“Why ‘of course’?” she asked back.
“You know,” he said and let it drop. There was nothing to say.
“I’m having a hard time sleeping too,” she said.
He turned over to face her. The covers reached just to her shoulders and she was turned on her side looking at him. God, she looked good, he thought. He wondered if she ever did not look good. Even with no sleep, she was still hot.
Quinn laughed.
“I’m sure I can guess why,” he said.
She smiled back.
“That and other stuff,” she said, not wanting to get into it. Truthfully, she was having thoughts about Quinn too-more than she was comfortable with. There was no denying she was attracted to him and every time she thought about him romantically, that damn Tarot card popped into her head. The devil and lust. She had a feeling like she did not want to indulge any romantic feelings. It would make them both distracted.
Instead, she tried to change the topic.
“I keep thinking that our research has not gotten us very far,” she said. “We don’t know much more than we started with.”
“I know,” Quinn replied. “It feels like we have been spinning our wheels a bit. The more I know, the less certain I feel.”
“It feels like rats in a maze or something,” she replied. “Or bees in a box. He shakes us up and we buzz all around. But then we quiet down and wait for him to do it again.”
“Look, it’s natural. We are both a little afraid. Okay, not a little.”
She sat up in bed. Quinn noticed she was wearing one of his t-shirts. It did nothing to stop his attraction. Her blond hair fell down just shy of her shoulders and she shook her head.
“That’s just it,” she said. “I’m so tired of being afraid all the time. And now I’m starting to worry that is all that we are-our fears.”
“I don’t follow.”
“For most of my life, fear has been controlling me,” Kate replied. “Even before all of this that was true. It seems like the original human emotion. You start out in life scared of the world. Then you’re scared of the dark or that your parents will leave you or of being lost in the woods.
“When you are older, you get scared the other kids don’t really like you, that you will never fit anywhere, that you will never find the right guy. Then you get a guy and you become scared you will lose him. You raise children and are scared something will happen to the kids. You get a good job, you are scared the bosses won’t like you or you won’t get that promotion. All through your life, no matter how mature you become, there are a million things to be afraid of. It’s the emotion most central to our lives.”
“That may be true.”
“People always define themselves by their jobs, their families, or God knows what else. But I think they’re wrong. I think it is what you are afraid of that defines you, that shapes your behavior and tells you what to think. Call it an existential crisis, Quinn. I am what I fear. What I fear is me.
“And before you say it, I know that this is a weird time to be thinking of this. There are a million things that I should be thinking of and this just isn’t one of them.”
“Actually, I think it makes perfect sense,” Quinn said. He sat up and they faced each other sitting cross-legged. “But I think you are wrong. Our fears are not us. It is like any other emotion. It is what we do with it that counts.”
“But that’s just it. The other emotions aren’t dominant. I think fear is. And I think even when we believe we are controlling it, it is controlling us,” Kate replied.
“No,” Quinn said. “Look at you. You came back to Loudoun even though it was what you most fear in the world. You didn’t run when I asked you to. We are trying to find him before he finds us. You are facing your fear.”
“Am I?” Kate said. “Or am I just being stupid?”
“Maybe both,” Quinn said. Before she could protest, he continued. “I don’t think fear-or any one thing-runs our lives. Sometimes it does. And sometimes it is like the white noise on a TV screen: always there, but you can tune it out. It doesn’t matter what we are afraid of. All that matters is what we do about it.
“Take your example, the kid who is afraid others won’t like him. That is not the soul of that kid. It is how he responds to it-does he conform to be like the more popular kids or does he face the idea that they may dislike him and be himself anyway? Do you run from your past, from all the horrible things life has dished out for you, or do you do something about it?”
“But even if we win, even if we face down this guy and beat him, I will still be that scared little girl,” she said.
“You aren’t even that scared little girl now,” he replied. “Would she be here now? Could she have come back to Loudoun? And you are already stronger. The minute we admit to ourselves what we fear most and face it, we have a chance-maybe just a small one-to do something about it. And that is very powerful-that we are given a chance to break free of the things that haunt us, to conquer them and be stronger for it.”
She smiled and Quinn was struck again by how beautiful she was.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I must sound like an idiot.”
“No, you don’t,” she said. “I’m just wondering how I got so lucky. Of all the people to be stuck with in this… mess, I’m glad it was you.”
“Thanks,” he said, and desperately wanted to lean over and kiss her. But he didn’t. Surely this would be more awkward if he tried something.
“I have one other thing I’m afraid of that I haven’t admitted,” Kate said and glanced away.
“Come on,” he said. “Shoot.”
“Okay,” she said and took in a breath. “I’m afraid of what would happen if I kissed you right now. What it would mean for us and this? Whether it would be a terrible idea?”
Quinn needed no more encouragement than that. He leaned over, put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her softly on the lips. Everything else in his mind evaporated when she kissed him back. Before he knew it, he had moved closer and his arms were around her. For a moment, neither Quinn nor Kate thought about anything else.
When they broke apart, they both took a deep breath and looked at each other for a moment. Then Kate put her hand on the back of Quinn’s neck and pulled him down next to her on the bed.
They kissed again and Quinn felt the same current he had felt with her that very first week. Except now it was like he was holding his hand above a live wire and the voltage had been cranked up. He did not know what it meant, only that it felt good.
When they paused for air, Quinn held her for a moment and ran his hands through her hair. They were both out of breath.
“Should we stop?” he said finally, wanting to do anything but stop. “If we keep going, I don’t think we’ll be able to quit.”
“Who says we would want to?”
She gently rolled over on top of him and paused with her face millimeters from his.
“What are you doing?” Quinn asked.
“Facing our fears,” she said.
She smiled and kissed him again.
It started off slow. They kissed for what felt like forever: long, wet, lingering. Quinn knew immediately she was the best kisser he had ever known. She broke away from him and sat up. Slowly, he lifted her t-shirt off and began kissing her everywhere.
For the first time in weeks, Kate wasn’t thinking about her mother or her wrecked life. She wasn’t thinking about anything at all. She reached down and took off his t-shirt. Kate wanted to feel her flesh on his. They lay down together and slowly, all the clothes came off. She wanted this to go on forever, but she didn’t know if she could take it. She wanted him, more than she had ever wanted any man in her life. Just when she didn’t think she could take it anymore, she briefly pulled away.
“You okay?” he asked, and she loved him for it. His face was flush with excitement, but she knew if she asked him to stop, he would. He loved her and would do anything for her, even if that meant stopping. But stopping was the last thing she wanted.
She nodded and they began kissing again. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a warning-a flash of a Tarot card with two lovers staring at each other while the Devil looked on. And a message: “Sex changes everything.”
But she wouldn’t-or couldn’t-stop. They were moving as one and it was like nothing she had ever felt. His touch was electric to her and her entire body felt a surge go through it. This was far beyond sex. Whatever was going on was joining them in more ways than the physical. She could feel what he felt, think what he thought.
Everything was becoming interlinked. As their bodies moved together, she was experiencing memories that weren’t hers. A first date with a girl she had never met, an awkward kiss in a college dorm room, the first time he had sex. It didn’t frighten her, it was like she was there, like she was Quinn. She saw the first time he saw her in the coffee shop, the way his heart raced, the way he had loved her even then.
This was dangerous. She should be frightened. She could tell that her every thought, every memory, was now inside of him as well. They were moving together faster, but it seemed to last forever. She thought she wouldn’t be able to think ever again.
And then it slowly receded.
Quinn was going to speak. He was going to ask what was going on. She knew that and didn’t want him to. She didn’t want to break the spell. He stopped without her saying anything and pulled away. When he left her, she felt unexpectedly empty.
When he lay down on the bed next to her, she pulled him to her and started kissing him again. It was even better than before. She felt everything he felt, every touch of her tongue. It was like being two people at once. There was no slow build up this time, they just immediately began making love again.
Kate knew they had already lost control. She thought of the Tarot card again and didn’t care. She wanted this. She deserved this.
It went on for hours. She loved him, but it wasn’t love that was driving them now, it was lust. They knew what the other wanted and reacted out of instinct. They had joined together and could no longer be apart.
Finally, after what felt like forever, they both collapsed back on the bed. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. She opened her mouth to say something, but they were both asleep in seconds.
Quinn looked down the dirt road, straining to see anything in the darkness. Next to him, the trees stirred in a passing breeze. The night was cool, but not freezing. He wished he had brought a jacket.
Actually, he thought suddenly, he wished he knew how he was here at all.
“Where are we?” Kate asked behind him and Quinn jumped.
Quinn looked down the road past her.
(He’s coming)
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think it could be the Phillips’ farm road.”
“How did we get here?”
Quinn looked at her and shrugged.
“I think this is my dream,” he said. “I don’t think we are here at all.”
Kate frowned.
“Look, I don’t mean to pick a fight, but I don’t see how I could be in your dream,” she said. “Either you are in mine, or…”
Quinn shrugged again.
“It’s just that I’ve dreamt this before,” he said. “I’m walking on this road and…”
(He starts chasing me.)
“Who’s he? Who’s coming?” Kate asked. “Did you think that or did I?”
Quinn was confused.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what is going on. I’ve had this dream before, but it feels different now.”
He bent down to the road and picked up a handful of dirt. He let the dust run through his fingers and then shook his hand clean.
“This feels more real,” he said. “Are we sure we didn’t sleepwalk or something?”
(He’s coming and he will be mad that I brought her.)
“Quinn, who are you talking about?” Kate asked. “I feel something, this… sense of immense dread and I don’t know why. What’s coming?”
“Never mind,” Quinn said and looked up the road. “However we got here, we need to keep moving. The bridge is around the bend.”
(What is going on?)
“I don’t know what is going on,” Quinn said. “Wait. Did I think that or did you?”
Kate turned and looked behind her. Her heart was pounding in her chest.
“I think I’m feeling your emotions,” she said.
“And what do you think I’m feeling?”
“Terror,” Kate said.
“Sounds about right. Look, we need to start walking. We don’t have long.”
“What is coming for us, Quinn? Lord Halloween?”
He grabbed her hand (it feels so real) and they started walking down the road.
“I don’t know exactly,” he replied. “I don’t think they are connected.”
He moved a little faster and pulled her along.
But Kate stopped dead in her tracks.
“Kate, look, I will tell you all about it later,” he said. “This is the nightmare I told you about, remember? The one that I keep having? But this is the first time you’ve been in it.”
But she was not paying any attention to him. Instead she was staring at the ground.
(What is it?) Quinn thought.
“On the ground,” she said. “Look at the lines.”
She pointed at lines drawn in the dirt. When Quinn stepped back, he realized it spelled a word.
“Sanheim,” they both said.
And then Quinn started to hear the sound of horse hooves in the distance, like the beating of a far-off drum.
“We have to go now,” he said, and pulled her arm along to make her start moving. Kate looked back at the word in the dust again, but started jogging alongside Quinn.
“Sanheim-I’ve seen that word in my dreams before,” she said to him.
Quinn kept looking behind him.
“You have? But I thought…” (I was going crazy).
“You’ve seen it too?” she asked him, and now she started to glance behind her as well. The sound was getting closer and though she was not much clearer on what was coming, she thought she had some idea.
“Janus and I found it carved into a tree out near Leesburg,” he said. “A guy called us out to the Phillips’ farm and it was right there in a clearing.”
It was with some sickening feeling he realized he was close to that field now. As they ran along the road, the right side opened up to reveal that large narrow field.
(It’s over there. He carved it into the tree with his sword.)
“It was on the Tarot card,” she said. “I was so freaked out by the whole experience I didn’t think to mention it. Madame Zora didn’t know what it meant either.”
“Who the hell is Madame Zora?”
Then he saw in his head a picture of a woman wrapped in fake jewels in a candle-lit room. The psychic, he knew.
“Oh,” he said.
Kate looked at him funny but continued to run. Both looked over their shoulders. They were almost past the field now, but still not close to the bridge.
(Why didn’t you tell me?)
Quinn heard the thought inside his head and didn’t know how to answer. He was rapidly becoming too terrified to think.
“You had enough to worry about,” was all he said.
“But this could be important,” she said. “It could be a clue.”
The sound was much louder now and even Kate recognized it-the galloping gait of a large horse, riding as if it had the devil at its heels.
She looked to the forest around her.
“We could go in there,” she said, becoming slightly out of breath.
“The woods don’t help,” he said. “He’ll just get ahead of us. We have to beat him to that bridge. We will be safe there.”
But the bend in the road still seemed too far away and the hoof beats were getting steadily louder. They seemed to echo off the trees around them.
“What’s coming, Quinn?” she asked. “The fear I’m feeling, I can’t tell if it is yours or mine or both. But I don’t think you would be this afraid of just a horse. So what’s chasing us? What’s on that horse?”
“See for yourself,” Quinn said, as they continued running.
She turned to look behind her and she could now see something in the distance. It was little more than a blur, but it was moving very, very fast.
With a little relief, she saw they were now close to the bend in the road. She and Quinn ran forward, hearing the gait of the horse grow louder with every step. They rounded the bend and Kate felt her spirits drop.
The bridge was still far away. She could see it in the distance.
(We aren’t going to make it.)
(I might be able to slow him down, Kate.)
(I’m not sure much could slow him down at this stage.)
She could see details of the bridge, could tell they were getting closer, but now the sound of hooves was everywhere. The bridge was one of the old-fashioned covered ones-long and narrow. She had heard there was one in Loudoun County, but it had fallen into disrepair. It reminded her of something, some story she had been told.
(The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.)
Kate looked behind her and stifled a scream. The horse had just rounded the bend and she could see the rider pushing it to go faster. Somewhere she heard a terrible laugh, deep and booming, and it did not sound human.
(Because it isn’t human, is it, Quinn?)
(Just keep going. You have to keep going. Even if I fall behind. You will be safe in that bridge. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. You have to reach it.)
She could tell the Horseman was gaining in huge strides behind her and she pushed herself to run as fast as she could. How could she feel so tired in a dream?
The bridge was closer. It was just 50 feet, then 40 feet.
The sound of the horse drowned out everything else. Kate and Quinn looked behind them and immediately regretted it.
The Horseman was no more than 15 feet away-a black rider out of a nightmare.
He was in ancient clothes that looked half-rotted away. A black tattered cloak spread out behind him. In the moonlight, they could see a long saber held in his hand pointed forward-like a cavalry officer on a final charge. Even the horse was frightful, with red penetrating eyes that seemed to flash each time a hoof hit the ground. But the rider’s most striking feature was what was missing… He rode with no head at all, with his sword held forward as if it was guiding the way.
The Horseman was now 10 feet behind them. And they were still 20 feet from the bridge.
(Keep going, Kate. Run as fast as you can.)
Before she knew what happened, Quinn had abruptly stopped, turned and ducked out of the way of the Horseman before it trampled him. Even as she continued to run blindly forward while looking back, she saw the effect on the Headless Horseman was immediate.
He yanked back on the reins and the horse gave a terrible cry of pain. The Horseman rounded as Quinn stood in the road facing him.
Kate was a few steps from the bridge and stopped.
(Don’t stop, Kate, keep going.)
“Quinn, what are you doing?” she shouted.
The Horseman paused, turning sideways suddenly. It was almost as if he was unsure what to do.
“Just get into the bridge,” Quinn yelled. “It’s me he wants.”
But suddenly that seemed unclear. The Horseman sat poised between the two, as if deciding which to pursue.
“Come on,” she yelled at the Horseman. “I’ve got five feet between me and the bridge. You scared of a little water?”
“What are you doing?” Quinn shouted.
“I’m not losing you,” she said.
“Just get in the damn bridge,” he said. “Come on, you headless bastard. Let’s get it on.”
The Horseman suddenly turned again to face Kate, and before she could move, the horse surged forward. His sword was out and the Horseman closed the distance in mere seconds. Kate cried out and fell in the dirt as she made a desperate attempt to close the few remaining feet between her and the bridge.
But the Horseman was too fast.
He held the sword high over his body. His laugh again echoed off everything and it seemed to Kate that it was in her head as well.
Quinn felt like he watched in slow motion as the sword came down, flashing brightly for a half second, in a swift stroke aimed at Kate’s head.
He screamed at the top of his lungs, shouting “No” louder than he ever had before.
For a moment, everything seemed to stop-the blade held in midair, the deadly stroke did not come down. The Horseman halted, laughed, turned to face Quinn and then abruptly disappeared.
Quinn and Kate found themselves awake in their hotel room.
“What the hell was that?” she asked and nearly jumped out of bed.
“I don’t know,” Quinn replied, and it seemed stupid to ask if she was inquiring about the same dream.
Kate put her hand to her neck and felt the back of it.
“I thought I was finished,” she said. “But you stopped him. You defeated him.”
“No,” Quinn said, as he got out of bed and quickly began pulling on clothes. “I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “He stopped.”
But she began putting on her own clothes.
“Help me get the chairs away from the balcony door,” he said.
“What is going on?”
“It was a trick,” Quinn said. “I don’t think he could have hurt us in the dream. But I think… I think he heard me for real when I shouted like that.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“I don’t either,” he replied. “But I think he knows where we are now. And I think he will be coming soon.”
“Quinn, that’s ridiculous, it was only a dream…”
But her voice fell flat. Far away, she started to hear the pounding hooves again. This was not a dream. The Horseman was coming for them.
She ran to the balcony door and the two of them hurriedly removed the furniture in front of it.
(He’s coming for us both now. I’m sorry Kate.)
(This can’t be happening, Quinn.)
(I know, but it is.)
The horse was getting closer.
“We need to get down to the balcony below us,” Quinn said.
Kate saw a picture of them lowering themselves down the balconies. She added her own mental picture of creating a rope with bed sheets.
Quinn nodded.
“That’s a better idea,” he said.
(What the hell is happening to us? I can hear what you’re thinking.)
(Worry about it later.)
The hoof beats stopped.
Far from feeling better, Kate now felt worse.
“What happened?” she asked.
“He’s in the hotel now,” Quinn said. “He’ll be here soon.”
“How, the elevator?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
She grabbed the sheets from the bed and yanked them off. They opened the balcony door and Quinn began tying part of the sheet to the railing.
“This won’t get us very far,” he said. “We’ll need to scramble down the rest of the way.”
Both of them heard a large crash down the hall, clearly coming from the same floor. Impossibly, they heard the sound of hoof beats in the hotel and someone began screaming.
Kate crossed the room and picked up her gun off the side table.
“I’m not sure a gun is going to help against him,” Quinn said.
“Maybe, but it beats the hell out of just standing here,” she replied.
“True,” he said.
The pounding hooves came to their door and stopped.
For a second there was silence. And then the room exploded with noise as a giant force collided with the door. They watched as the door seemed to bend inward and the furniture in front of it shook. But it held.
“He’s trying to come through,” Quinn said.
There was another moment of silence. Somewhere down the hall, Quinn heard a voice shouting for someone to call the police.
It definitely isn’t our imagination, he thought bitterly.
Kate pointed her gun at the door.
Another loud crash came a few seconds later as the horse collided with it again, but this time there was a cracking sound as well. They could see the door begin to splinter.
Kate cocked her gun.
“Come on through,” she said. “I’ll shoot you, you headless son of a bitch.”
The door shuddered again with another large crash.
“That ought to put the fear of God into him,” Quinn said. “Be sure to shoot him in the head.”
“Well, I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas,” Kate said.
The door bulged in the middle and there was another loud crack as it began to come apart. The horse made another run at it and splinters flew from the door. The furniture reinforcing it fell over and the horse’s nose broke through.
“Well, running away is starting to look like a great option,” Quinn said.
Kate stared at the door. Would a bullet even harm the thing?
“Okay, we need to get out of here,” she said and headed for the balcony. She holstered her gun and put it into her pants. “Come on, Quinn.”
“Where is he?” Quinn said. “The horse is out there, but I can’t tell if the Rider is.”
“It doesn’t matter. Come on!”
Quinn went to the balcony.
“You first,” he said.
Kate grabbed the bed sheet and swung herself around the iron railing. In the room, the horse now appeared to have pushed his whole head through the door. She tested the sheet-rope and decided it would probably hold. Using it, she lowered herself to the balcony below.
Quinn watched as the horse continued to destroy the door. It now had most of its body through. But he couldn’t see the Headless Horseman. The horse was there, but no rider. He didn’t have time to think about it. Instead, Quinn swung his legs around the railing and lowered himself down to the balcony below.
Above, they could hear a loud crashing. The horse was now through. Quinn could hear its hooves on the floor above.
Hanging to the fifth floor balcony, he lowered himself until his feet touched the balcony railing below. He balanced himself and then jumped to the fourth floor balcony.
“Come on,” he yelled up.
Kate followed his lead.
Above them, all chaos seemed to have broken loose. They could hear the smashing of glass and it felt like the roof might cave in.
“We don’t have much time,” Kate said.
“Where is he?” Quinn asked. “I didn’t see him up there.”
Quinn looked down to the ground below, but it was too dark to see.
Quinn swung himself over again and dropped down to the third floor balcony.
“Come on down,” he said.
He helped her down to the third floor.
Quinn felt blind. He could not tell what was happening above and he still had a sinking feeling some other trick was waiting for him below.
He swung himself over the balcony and dangled his legs over the edge again. But this time, when he looked down, he could see him.
The Headless Horseman stood on the ground below the hotel, waiting for him.
“Holy shit,” Quinn yelled. “Kate, start climbing up.”
Quinn could see the Horseman moving now, as if to start climbing the balconies himself.
Quinn tried to balance for a second, before pulling himself up to the third floor balcony. But when he looked down to see if the Horseman was pursuing, he lost his footing and fell the three stories to the ground.
Kate screamed. She watched Quinn fall in slow motion to the ground. The Horseman stood below him, waiting.
He’ll kill Quinn, she thought.
But as soon as Quinn hit the ground with a large thud, everything changed. One minute the Horseman was there, striding toward where Quinn lay.
And then he wasn’t. He disappeared as if he was never there at all.
Kate looked everywhere and she heard nothing from upstairs anymore either.
She scrambled down the last remaining balconies and hurried to Quinn, who lay unconscious on the ground. Kate looked all around her, but there was nothing anymore.
The Headless Horseman was gone.