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.
