Friday, Oct. 27
Quinn was considering turning off the video when he saw it. He had concluded the entire process was a waste of time. Lord Halloween was too careful to simply walk past a security camera. But for some reason he kept coming back to it. In the hospital room, he had been out of it, but he had felt sure he had seen something.
Now he was sure he saw it again. It had been quick, just out of the corner of his eye, something like a flash of metal. It could have been a watch, but Quinn didn’t think so. He rewound the tape and paused. It was the arm of a jacket-nothing more. He couldn’t see the man or woman it was attached to. The jacket was olive green and Quinn thought the shade looked familiar. Like he had seen it before. Like he knew who the jacket belonged to.
It felt like a song that he couldn’t place. He knew who that jacket belonged to, but he couldn’t place it. It was just on the tip of his tongue. Work backward, he thought. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He was mentally flipping through the people he knew like old photographs when it came to him.
The piece of metal he was looking at was a medal-from the Vietnam War. He only knew one person who wore such a thing. He pictured it sitting on the chair at the Loudoun Chronicle. How many days had he seen it just lying there? And yet he didn’t recognize it when it was out of place.
Dear God, he thought, the jacket. It belongs to Buzz. He had been in the hotel just before Kate’s room was ransacked.
“Jesus,” Quinn said.
(Where was Janus headed?) he asked Kate.
Kate had stopped in mid-interview when he had figured out who the jacket belonged to.
(Buzz. He was going to see Buzz.)
(We have to get there. Now. He’s in trouble.)
Janus drove to the end of the cul-de-sac in Ashburn, parked the car on the curb and got out. He sighed. Every time Janus saw Buzz’s house, it looked like a run-down mess. Buzz had inherited it from his mother, who had died only about four years ago. But he did not seem to inherit the ability to keep it up.
The grass was long, at least three of the shutters hung at slightly crooked angles. If he didn’t know better, Janus might think a crazy person lived there. Only he supposed one did. Buzz was the most paranoid person he had ever met-he had been worried about Lord Halloween way before it was fashionable.
How long had Buzz worked for the paper? As long as Janus knew about, that was for sure. And all that time, Buzz talked about sinister conspiracies concerning county supervisors or the police and when Laurence had transferred him to the business beat, Buzz had relentlessly pursued some bank in Waterford, claiming there was some check kiting scheme.
Holden and Buzz had never gotten along. Rebecca tolerated Buzz’s eccentricities because he produced good copy. He showed up at odd hours, but he did consistently deliver good stories for the paper.
Janus glanced at the house. For a second, he felt a twinge of anxiety, but he brushed it away. The killings, the telepathic twins back at the office and Laurence’s general attitude of panic had put Janus on edge.
He walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. It sounded deep through the house and Janus jumped a little.
Jesus, he thought, I’m way too skittish. He rang the bell again and listened to it echo through the house. But he did not hear anything else.
Maybe Buzz blew town, like he had figured. Buzz had told Laurence he was staying indoors, but that could have been a lie. It was possible Buzz was out shopping, getting supplies. But honestly, Janus thought Buzz seemed like the kind of guy that had supplies stockpiled in the basement. He would be prepared for this.
Of course, Buzz could be ignoring the door. That made sense, since Buzz might believe the killer would actually show up and ring the doorbell.
Or Janus thought Buzz could be in some kind of danger. Maybe he was hurt, or…
He didn’t let himself complete the last line of thought.
I should get out of here, a voice in his head said. The neighborhood was oddly quiet and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Everyone was either gone or had locked themselves in. Four days to go before Halloween and people would not come out if they could help it.
So why am I here? Buzz was either gone or dead. Either way, Janus could not help. He turned on the doorstep and prepared to walk away.
And then a crash came from inside the house.
Janus stood at the doorway for a minute.
“Buzz?” he yelled from outside the door. “Are you fucking in there, mate?”
There was silence. Janus wet his lips with his tongue. Reluctantly, he tried the front door. It was locked. Janus sighed in relief.
“Buzz? You there?” he called again.
He took a step backward. Well, there was nothing he could do, he thought. He should get in the car and get the hell out of dodge.
But he knew he should check the back of the house as well. He should be sure that Buzz was not just lying somewhere, bleeding, maybe getting his guts ripped out even now…
Janus worked to get the image out of his head.
He looked around. There was no one in sight. I have to be sure, he thought. Besides, it’s a bright sunny day out. He should not be this spooked.
Moving carefully, he looked through the front windows and saw nothing. With a longing glance back at his car, Janus disappeared around the side, stopping for a second to look in the garage window. He saw only Buzz’s brown BMW.
Janus continued around the house and stopped on the back patio. There were a few rust-covered chairs there, but the yard looked overgrown.
Janus’ heart stopped when he saw the back door, however.
It was wide open.
Shit, he thought.
“Buzz?” he called moving cautiously to the door. “Look, are you in pain? Do you need help? It’s me, Janus.”
But there was no answer. Janus could see clearly into the kitchen and there was no one there. He should go, he realized. The thought of Buzz in there hurt, or tied up, kept him from running away.
Janus walked through the doorway tentatively. He tried to look around corners. But he could not see anything.
“Buzz, are you in here?” he asked again. “Listen, man, don’t blow my head off ‘cause you think I’m someone else. I’m just trying to make sure you are alright.”
He took another step forward into the house. He saw nothing.
This, Janus decided, was rapidly becoming the dumbest move he had ever made. He reached for his cell phone and realized he had left it in the car.
Here he was, with a murderer on the loose, walking around in a deserted house. He was like one of those idiots in a horror movie. That thought stopped him from moving forward.
If Buzz was in trouble, the police could help him.
“Buzz, I’m coming in, okay?”
But Janus wasn’t going to. Instead he backed slowly up, preparing to turn and run if he had to. Fuck this, he thought. He wouldn’t do anybody any good if he got picked off so easily.
He walked back out the door and then turned and ran around the house to his car. He had left Buzz’s back door open, but the police could deal with that.
Janus dug into his pocket for his keys and pulled them out. He kept looking behind him waiting for something to come out of the house.
But nothing did.
He flipped the key on his ring and practically jumped inside the car, keeping his eyes very carefully on the house. He turned on the car, shoved it into drive and tore out of the cul-de-sac.
It was only as he looked back at the house in the rearview mirror that he saw it. There in his rearview mirror was a single yellow piece of paper-a post-it note stuck right on the glass. Still driving forward, Janus read it as a feeling of dread washed over him.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you, Janus,” it said.
Kate pulled up outside the building and Quinn rushed outside.
(Gas it.) Quinn thought as he jumped into the car.
Kate tore through the streets of Leesburg and they both hoped the police had better things to do than watch for speeders.
(It’s Buzz.) Quinn thought, as the car turned on to Route 7 toward Ashburn, where the business editor lived.
(He was at the hotel) Kate thought. (But that doesn’t mean he’s Lord Halloween.)
(It means there is a damn good shot he is. And Janus was heading right towards him.)
(PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME)
The voice in their heads jarred them both and nearly caused Kate to drive off the road.
(What was that?) Quinn thought.
(That was Janus.)
In her mind, she could see him. He was being moved from his car and he was in incredible pain. There was blood. She had to fight to keep her own car on the road.
(He’s dying.)
Janus turned around while driving and looked at the back seat, bracing himself for a blow. But there was nobody there.
“Fuck,” he said, and faced the road again as he continued driving. His heart was pounding in his chest. He immediately reached around for his cell phone.
But it was not there.
“Fuck me,” he said again.
The bastard had taken it. Janus could not remember locking his car, he had been so concerned about what was going on in the house.
He pulled the note off his mirror and slammed on the accelerator again. He would head straight for the police station. If someone was going to jump out at him from his trunk or somewhere, let it be there.
He looked in the rearview mirror and felt his heart skip a beat.
A car was behind him. And not just anyone’s. It was Buzz’s beat-up BMW and it was gaining on him. The sun reflected off the car’s windshield, so Janus could not make out who was behind the wheel, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be someone who wanted to stop and chat.
“Fuck you, then,” Janus said and sped up. He flew through a stop sign and turned right abruptly, narrowly missing a parked car on the street.
The key is to stay calm and get to the police station. There was no way whoever was behind him would think of going there. He hoped.
He rounded another corner and noticed that while the car behind him was gaining, it did not seem to be trying to overtake him. For the life of him, Janus could not figure out why.
Janus tried honking his horn-though he did not see other cars on the road. Everyone was hiding from the guy that was behind him. But maybe someone would hear the noise and call the police. No sense stopping at any of the houses on the way. There was no guarantee they would be home, and even if they were, no guarantee they would let him in or not be killed as well.
Without even attempting to brake, he swung out onto Reservoir Road and started to pray. He had gas, he thought, looking at the meter.
The key was to stay ahead of him and to stay calm.
But the BMW had gained on him and was now very close. If he braked at all, the car would ram into him. Janus floored it. If a cop pulled him over for speeding, that would be a good thing.
He had just six miles to Route 7. There were bound to be other cars on Rt. 7-someone who could help him.
With new fear, he saw the curve ahead. Since he came to this county, he had hated this curve. It was the kind where you had to slow down a lot or risk flying into the ditch. Janus had covered at least four accidents here and none of them were pretty.
But if he had to slow down, so did his pursuer, right?
He reluctantly pressed the brake.
Nothing happened.
“Fuck a duck,” he said. He hit the brake again. The car didn’t slow. He felt no resistance and instead saw the curve coming up at a rapid 60 miles an hour.
Behind him he noticed that the BMW had dropped back.
And then Janus knew what had happened. The killer had cut his brake lines. In his mind, he saw the image of a man underneath his car cutting his brake line as Janus stood on Buzz’s back patio.
Janus pumped the peddles and watched the speedometer crawl down. It was 45 miles an hour now on a curve recommended at 15. He would just have to hope he was slow enough.
He braced himself and tried to take the turn as best he could. At first, he thought he might make it. But his Jeep leaned heavily to the right and then he could feel it tipping.
At least I’ll probably die in the crash, he thought.
The Jeep ran off the road, hit the ditch and flipped on its side.
Janus came to moments afterward. He was hanging in his seatbelt, the windshield shattered and he thought he could taste blood on his tongue.
Please think I’m dead, Janus thought. He hung there attempting to look lifeless, wondering if soon it would not be an act.
He heard footsteps approaching the car, heard the car creak as someone climbed up on it and opened the door.
“You almost made it, Janus,” the voice said.
Janus felt a hand reach across him and undo his seatbelt.
He was insanely tempted to look at the man, but he didn’t. He had to appear to be dead. It was the only thing that could save him.
“But close doesn’t quite count, does it?” he said.
Please think I’m dead, Janus thought again.
He could almost sense the man looking at him.
“Hmmm, maybe it got you worse than I thought,” the voice said. “Or maybe you’re just faking. Like you faked all those photos.”
Janus felt a sharp pain in his leg as the man dug in a knife.
He didn’t think quickly enough to stop himself from crying out.
“There, I thought so,” the man said, and the knife cut deeper.
The pain was excruciating. Janus’ eyes flew open and he looked at the man already pulling him out.
Janus did not believe his eyes.
“No,” he said, but it came out as a whisper.
Janus felt in no condition to resist. He tried to move, but every limb seemed to be in shock.
The man hefted Janus up and then lowered his body down to the ground away from the Jeep. The pain was unbelievable.
“You can blame this one on your friends,” the man said. “You weren’t on my list until they started avoiding me. It hurt my feelings, Janus. And I think you are the right way to send a message about this.”
Janus wanted to sit up, but the man began dragging Janus across the ditch.
Janus felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. He must have been hurt worse than he thought. A car, Janus thought. He would need a car now. Maybe someone would come by.
But there was nothing.
I’m going to die in broad daylight, Janus thought.
But the man was still talking.
“All those photos,” he said. “I know you faked them. I know because nobody is that good. It’s ridiculous, of course.”
Janus didn’t even process what he was talking about. He recognized his assailant, of course, but everything seemed different than the man he had known before. It was as if the man before and this one was not the same person. They only looked the same.
The man dragged Janus to the BMW.
“I bet you’ve been wishing for a car. I wouldn’t. Unless it was an army, I would just kill them too, you know. Say I found you after the accident, stab them in the back as they looked at you. Easy, you know. People just naturally trust me, always have.”
Janus decided then to give it all he had, before he was in that car and would never be heard from again. He lifted his head up and shouted as loud as he could, a cry into the wilderness he prayed someone would hear.
“PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME,” he yelled.
“Can you see anything else?” Quinn asked her. He could see her vision in his mind. When he tried to call something up, he got nothing.
“Someone was putting him into a car, Quinn, but I couldn’t see who. He looked bad. There is blood on his face.”
She picked up the cell phone.
“911,” a voice answered. “What is the emergency?”
“A friend of mine called,” she said. “He said someone was following him, trying to run him off the road. I lost contact with him. I think he could have been kidnapped.”
“Did he give you his location?”
Kate tried to think. In her mind, she could see a curve in a road. But she didn’t know the county that well. She tried to show the mental picture to Quinn.
“Tell them it’s off Reservoir Road,” he said. “Tell them that curve where a lot of accidents happen.”
Kate relayed the directions.
“What time did he call?” the 911 operator asked.
“A few moments ago,” Kate said, her voice completely calm. She knew how to impart information even while panicking on the inside.
“Did he see who his attacker was?”
Kate didn’t even look at Quinn. They knew nothing about the kidnapper, that was the worst part. She had a vague idea from the image of Janus that he had known who it was, but it was blurry.
“He didn’t know,” Kate said. “He only called quickly.”
“Was he armed?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Kate said.
But the attacker would have been armed, of course. He would have had a knife.
“Okay,” the operator replied. “A unit is on its way. It should be there shortly. I need to get your name…”
Kate hung up. They could trace the cell phone, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to be on the phone. Instead, she looked at Quinn.
“Get out my gun,” she said.
He nodded and grabbed her purse and started looking through it. He pulled out the gun and looked at it as if it were an alien thing. In her mind, Kate showed him how to load it, which Quinn did even as they continued to tear through town.
They ran three red lights before she turned onto Reservoir Road. That distinctive curve was miles away-an eternity, he thought.
As she continued driving, she glanced in the rearview mirror.
“Fuck,” she said, and put her hand on Quinn’s thigh.
Quinn didn’t need to look behind him. He already saw it clearly in his mind.
They were no longer the only thing on the road. Behind them, the figure of the Headless Horseman had appeared. And he was gaining on them.
“Now, Janus,” the man said, and kicked Janus squarely in the stomach. “We don’t like it when people talk too loudly at the table.”
The man kicked him again.
“Goddamned boy,” the man said again. “I’m disappointed. I thought you would put up more of a fight. The last one, well, he was too easy. And you were too. Young kids. You guys these days are so soft.”
Janus said nothing. He thought his right leg was broken, it hurt so much.
And he had a feeling of time loss, so much so he wondered if there was internal bleeding. He felt himself slipping, like he might go unconscious at any moment.
Maybe that was a blessing.
“And shouting like that,” the man said, “Who did you think was going to hear you?”
The man picked Janus up and threw him into the back seat of the car.
He opened the front door, took another look around to see if anyone was watching and then got in the car. It was a clean operation, the man thought. He started the car and began to drive off.
“What do we do?” Kate asked.
“We ignore it and hope he goes away,” Quinn replied.
Kate looked in the rearview mirror and simultaneously sped up. How the hell the Horseman could be gaining on them in a car was insane. Didn’t this thing have to play by the rules? It was a horse after all. Horses cannot outrun cars.
“I don’t think that is a very good plan,” Kate said.
“Got a better one?” Quinn asked.
Kate nodded toward the gun on Quinn’s lap.
“Maybe,” she said.
“You are planning to shoot a headless phantom?” Quinn asked.
“We have to at least try, right?” she asked.
“But we will need that ammo if we catch up to Janus,” Quinn said. “We need something to fight off his attacker with.”
“I know, I know,” Kate said. “But we are going to have two problems at that point instead of one.”
Quinn looked at the speedometer. The car was at 75 miles an hour now. They would be at the curve in two or three more minutes.
“We have to do something,” Kate said. “He’s gaining on us.”
Quinn turned around in the seat and looked behind them. Even in broad daylight, the Horseman was a terrible apparition. If anything, he looked worse. You could see the decay on his cloak and the horse looked as if it was being tortured in an effort to make it move faster. The only difference from the last time Quinn had seen him was what was in his hand. It wasn’t a sword.
“He has a pumpkin,” Quinn said.
“Well, that’s better than a sword,” Kate shot back.
But this was not just a lump of orange vegetable. Instead the thing had a hideous grin carved on it-a demonic face-and it was on fire.
“It’s on fire,” Quinn said. “The pumpkin is on fire. I think he is trying to catch the car on fire.”
How the hell could the Headless Horseman know about flammable gasoline? It was absurd.
(He’s us, remember. He has our knowledge.) Kate thought.
Quinn looked in front of him. Just another minute or two down the road. But Quinn could see they were not going to make it. The Horseman appeared ready to throw and he was in good distance to do it.
(Take the wheel) Kate thought.
(Are you insane?) Quinn asked.
(Do it now, Quinn.)
Quinn grabbed the wheel and tried to keep the car steady. Kate rolled down the window and grabbed the gun from Quinn’s lap. He saw she must have put the car on cruise control to keep it going at a steady pace. That would have to change before they hit that curve or there wouldn’t be much left of their car.
(You ever done this before?) he asked.
(No, but I saw it in one of the Terminator movies.) she replied.
(How reassuring.)
Kate aimed the gun carefully, trying to balance it even while the wind ripped around her and threatened to yank the gun out of her hand.
She decided to aim for the horse, by far the bigger target. She fired off the first shot with her pistol, but the shot went wide.
Quinn tried to keep the car steady.
Kate waited and watched. She had to block out everything. She could see the flaming pumpkin in the Horseman’s hand, a ball of fire that would be unleashed at any moment. She had to stop it. She concentrated on nothing but the horse. She blocked out the Horseman and his echoing laughter that seemed to be in her head more than anywhere else. Only the horse. Please let this shot count.
She fired again and the horse or its rider seemed to know it was coming because it leapt into the air.
But the horse was not quite fast enough. Instead of being hit in the chest, the horse was hit in the leg.
The Horseman appeared about to throw his pumpkin, but then suddenly he was gone. The horse and its rider vanished.
Kate shouted out in triumph, before feeling the car swerve beneath her.
She nearly fell out of the car, but grabbed on to the hood and brought herself back in.
“Quinn?” she asked and looked at him.
Kate had to grab the wheel and quickly slid back into the driver’s seat as she looked at Quinn. He was looking at her in shock. His left thigh was covered in blood.
“Your shot… Your bullet… It hit me,” he said.
Janus didn’t know where the car was headed and he felt like he was coming in and out of consciousness.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” the man said. “You know that right? It’s good when people are strangers, but friends, true friends, are so much more satisfying.”
Janus opened his eyes. He was in the back seat of the car. There was blood on the seat-his, he thought.
But on the floor there looked like more dried blood-and it definitely was not his.
The man didn’t seem to regard Janus as much of a threat and he could see why. His leg was certainly broken-he felt only pain there and blood seemed to be coming from his forehead. He felt dizzy and confused.
I’m going to die here, Janus thought and grimaced. Die like a fucking ponce begging for his life.
The man kept talking.
“You know I had to wait 12 long years to do this. Do you know how hard that is? To see the vermin all around you, every day. To talk to them, smile at them, act like you are one of them. But I’m not one of them, Janus. No, no, I think I’ve proved that. I’m invincible. I’m unstoppable. I am a force of goddamned pure fury bent on hell and fire.”
I wish you would fucking shut up, Janus thought. Dying would be preferable. He moved on his side slightly and felt on the bottom of the seat.
Nothing. Fuck, he thought. I will not die like this. I will not die afraid and in pain. He would finish this his own way, not on this asshole’s timetable.
His hands continued to search the seat.
Nothing. Janus wanted to cry in despair.
Concentrating, he felt his own pockets, hoping desperately for something he could use. But there was nothing but a couple of crushed cigarettes and his silver lighter.
Maybe I could have a smoke before I die, he thought. Or maybe…
He felt a surge of hope course through him.
Janus tugged at his jeans to pull out the lighter and hoped to God it would be enough.
Kate tried to keep the car steady as Quinn pulled a stack of McDonald’s napkins out of the glove compartment and began pressing them to his leg.
“Oh my God,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
“It hurts,” Quinn said. “Jesus, who the hell knew it could hurt so much?”
The blood seemed to practically pour out of his leg.
“How the hell did that happen?” Quinn asked.
“I shot the horse. I shot him in the leg.”
“Is it gone?”
Kate looked in the rearview mirror.
“Yes, but…”
“How the hell did a bullet end up in my leg?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Kate said. “Evidently, when I hit it… it must of…”
“This is just great,” Quinn said. “How the hell are we supposed to defeat this thing if hurting it means hurting me too?”
“The bullet must have severed the connection,” Kate said, and she put her free hand on him in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “It jarred it somehow. Just like you falling and becoming unconscious did it.”
“Fuck,” Quinn said again and held on to his leg. It felt terrible.
“We have to get you to a hospital,” Kate said.
“No time. We need to find Janus or we may never find him.”
As he said it, he saw the bend up ahead.
“Up there,” he pointed.
Kate slowed down and brought the car to a halt.
On the side of the road was Janus’ Jeep. He dreaded finding him in there. But worse, he dreaded that he wouldn’t.
“Look,” Kate said, and pointed to the side passenger door of Janus’ car. It still stood open.
“He must have pulled him out of there,” Quinn said. “Can you check it out, but quickly?”
She looked around the car, found an extra t-shirt in the back seat and handed it to him to put against his bleeding leg. She got out and looked around the wreckage, glancing inside the front door.
“There’s blood,” she called out.
All the windows were shattered and glass lay everywhere. Getting down on her hands and knees, she looked through the vehicle for anything that stood out. Fluttering down at the bottom of the wreck, she saw a yellow note. She didn’t pick it up, for fear her fingerprints would contaminate it. But she could guess what it said.
She crawled out of the wreck and could hear the sounds of sirens far away.
“Come on,” Quinn yelled from the car.
“Where do we go next?” she asked.
“I don’t know. We drive.”
“What if we don’t find him?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I just don’t know.”
Janus gripped his fingers around the lighter.
God, he felt weak. He saw more fresh blood on the seat. Whatever the wreck had done to him, it clearly was serious. And maybe that was the best thing, he thought. Better to die this way than in whatever fashion this psycho had in mind.
“God, I’ve enjoyed this,” the man was saying in the front. “It’s been a load off my mind, I can tell you. Always having to think about it, seeing it in your dreams, that’s the worst part. But actually acting again, letting the emotions free. Nothing beats that, Janus, old boy.”
Janus held the lighter like he was holding on to an edge of a cliff. Things were blurry now and he had this kind of sickish feeling all over.
So this is what it feels like to die. Some part of him rebelled against it. He could just lie there, true, and hope to go peacefully. But he wanted something more than that. He wanted to hurt this bastard, maybe stop him for good.
He decided he would settle for just surprising him-stopping that sanctimonious laugh of his. Janus didn’t have to be the victim that got away. He would settle for being the one who helped even the score-just a little.
“You were the icing on the cake, you know what I mean, good buddy?” the man said. “I’ve been looking for a way to win back your friends’ attention. When I heard you were heading out to see old Buzz… man, it was perfect. Today is ripe with blessings, Janus old boy. Not for you, of course, but you don’t matter.”
Janus could feel the car moving at a more reasonable speed now. He felt it turn left at some stage and wondered where they were headed. Somewhere remote, he thought. Somewhere nobody would hear Janus screaming.
He held the lighter, moving his hands to the switch that would turn it on. He had always been proud of this little silver thing, engraved on the back with his initials. His uncle had given it to him for his 18 ^th birthday. His parents had hardly approved, but that made it even better. It was a real smoker’s lighter, the kind that you lit once and stayed burning until you capped it. For him, the acrid smell of the burning oil had been nearly as addictive as the smoking.
“They’re going to talk about this for ages, you know,” the man said. “I’ve got big plans. I’ll take care of your little cronies on Halloween or before, and once I do, I’ve got a show-stopping number planned. Little kids in a row. I can’t say much, but I can say crucifixion is involved.”
“You’re insane,” Janus managed, not sure if he should just stay quiet or not.
“Oh, you’re awake, are you?” the man said and turned to look at him. His look was one of pure disgust. For a moment, Janus worried that he would see the lighter and know what Janus had planned. But he turned back around again.
“God, I’m disappointed in you. Thought you would put up a fight. But you are such a dumb ass, you didn’t even know your brakes were cut.”
He laughed a dry chuckle, more to himself.
“I’m thinking I will save your buddy Quinn for last. You know his girl and I go way back, don’t you? I should have gutted her after I killed her mom, but I thought it would be more fun to come back later. I stand by that decision. I really do. She’s had years to think about what I will do to her.”
Janus grimaced and started to feel some strength come back as cold fury rose in him. They had trusted this guy, called him one of their own, and instead he was cutting them down one by one. And in his mind he could see Quinn hanging on a cross.
With tremendous effort and nearly crying out in pain, Janus pushed himself up slowly, gripping the lighter in his hand.
“Maybe he will fight a little better than you,” the man continued. “I’m a little worried I drove him crazy. Him and his little girlfriend. What was that obtaining power on Halloween? But it ends on Nov. 1? Well, that is inconvenient, isn’t it?”
Silently, begging the man not to look in the rearview mirror, Janus sat up. His head felt like it weighed a million pounds. All he wanted was to lay back down and fall asleep. But he had a feeling that if he did, it would be forever.
Instead, he brought the lighter up with his right hand. For the last time in his life, he lit it, hearing the satisfying hiss as a small flame sprang to life. Janus could smell the oil burning and he breathed it in.
“Your ending won’t be smooth,” the man said. “I’ll keep you alive long enough that you’ll wish you had died in that car crash.”
The man laughed again.
Janus slowly brought himself forward, holding the small flame in his right hand.
“Hey wanker, don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” Janus said and as he hoped, the man turned his head to face him.
Moving quickly, Janus stuck the flame of his lighter into the man’s face, shoving it into his right eye.
The man tried to ward it off at the last minute, but was too late. The blow connected and he screamed as he felt a searing pain on his face.
The man reeled, taking his hands off the wheel. The car spun out of control, knocking Janus back.
“Happy fucking Halloween,” Janus said, before everything went black.
Kate and Quinn kept driving while looking for anything that might help them. When they came to a four-way stop two miles past the accident, Kate stopped.
“Where do we go?” Kate asked.
Quinn shook his head.
“I have no idea,” he said.
Kate tried to reach out with her mind, but it felt like she was running into a brick wall.
“Do you have a scanner?” Quinn asked.
“I should have thought of it before,” she said and reached behind her seat to pull it out.
It had been the first thing she bought in town. Somehow being attuned to police movements was comforting. It could tip you off to a story and tell you what was going on in the world.
He turned it on now, plugging it into the cigarette lighter. They both listened.
They heard reports of an accident and Quinn prayed for something else-a speeding car, somebody yelling somewhere, anything unusual that might tip them off.
Two minutes later it came.
A report of another overturned car, this one off Houseur Road-only two miles away from where they were.
Kate shoved the car back into gear, turned left and sped off.
The pain in Quinn’s leg was gradually subsiding, the bloody T-shirt still wrapped around it. Still, he thought it felt better and wondered briefly what that meant.
In a few minutes, they saw it. A beat up BMW lay on the side of the road, having run straight into a tree.
Kate pulled over beside it and she jumped out with her gun in hand. Flipping the front door open, she saw nothing except some blood on the side window.
But in the back…
“Quinn,” she said.
Quinn was out of the car, limping with severe pain, over to the BMW.
“Oh God,” he said.
In the back was Janus. Quinn opened the door, even as Kate was on the cell phone. She kept her eyes peeled out nervously as well. She could almost sense that he was here, the one who had haunted her half of her lifetime. The one she desperately wanted dead.
But she saw nothing in the woods by the road. She told the police there was an injured passenger and where, knowing they must already be on their way. She wondered who had spotted the accident and called it in.
Quinn was leaning over Janus.
“Will he be alright?” Kate asked, guessing what the answer would be.
But instead Quinn pulled his head out of the car.
“No,” he said quietly. “He’s dead.”
Kate passed him the gun and stuck her head in, but it was no use. There was blood all over his clothes and it looked like Janus had a bad wound on his head. Janus was dead and no amount of CPR was going to bring him back.
Quinn was staring at the tree line. All he felt inside was a blind hatred. All he wanted was to make that bastard pay.
“I know you’re out there,” Quinn screamed finally. “And I’ll bet this wasn’t part of your sorry little plan. I’ll bet he got you good.”
Kate looked again at the blood on the window. A glint of sunlight off something silver caught her eye on the front seat and she stuck her head in the car again. Janus’ silver lighter lay open but extinguished on the seat. She couldn’t think of how it came to be there. She picked it up.
“He must have done something,” Kate said, and handed the lighter to Quinn.
“Yeah,” Quinn said, looking at it briefly before putting it into his pocket. “I’ll bet he did.”
Quinn didn’t cry and he looked again at the trees around them. There was no sense in trekking in there-the killer could have long run away, and even if he didn’t, he would have some advantage.
But Quinn thought Lord Halloween could hear him.
“He died fighting,” Quinn called. “Not like you will, you soulless bastard.”
Kate put her arm around him. She looked into the woods, but there was nothing. No trail, no broken branches. Nothing that said where the killer had gone.
The forest on the other side of the road was more open, but again, they saw nothing.
“You hear me?” Quinn called out. “You want us, then come and get us. You coward. I'll see that you die quivering and alone.”
He stood there, clenched with a bottomless fury.
Kate knew what it felt like, but didn’t join in.
It wasn’t until after the police came, after they made their statements, after they were home, that it all came out.
Then there was sobbing.