I didn’t ask. My focus was on the clock man, who was still falling down the stairs, hamstrings cut.
By the time he finished his ten-foot tumble, I was waiting on the landing where the stairs made a ‘u’ turn and were just a little wider.
The clock man came to rest on the waiting Hyena.
I was shunted to the base of the stairs, and looking down at the reflection, I could see up, where he’d been. A cloud of black ash.
I moved back up, and saw the timepiece sitting on the broader stair. The only thing that remained.
Reaching through, I collected it, drawing it into my realm and opening it.
No hands.
But it didn’t belong here. The Hyena did, it was mine, claimed and reclaimed. The timepiece disintegrated like my footing did when the reflections shattered.
I found it back in the real world and stabbed it with the Hyena.
One down.
Countless Others to go.
“-Bomb!” Eva was shouting.
“You really think I care about a bomb?” the revenant asked.
“Your friend-”
“Her either?”
They were struggling. Eva was winning the fight but losing the war. She was cornered, the bomb behind her and the revenant in front, and no exit on either side. Every time the revenant charged, she was forced to back up. When she pushed back, she hurt him, delivering grievous wounds, but failed to regain the ground she’d lost. None of the wounds lasted. Couldn’t kill a dead man.
“Eva,” I said, “What do you need?”
“I kill unnatural motherfuckers like you with nature. Fire usually works.”
“Wooden house.”
“Blade, then. I’ll do it the old fashioned way.”
“I’ve got a blade,” I said.
“And,” the revenant responded, “that’s my cue to abandon this particular fight.”
He backed away from Eva, and ducked back into the living room.
Eva and I both found our way into the living room as well.
Callan was standing, Christoff behind him, Alexis to his right, slumped back against the couch. I could see how deep some of the wounds on her face were.
Was this the old ‘outrun the bear’ strategy? Leave the nigh-comatose girl as bait while making a break for it?
“How are you doing?” the revenant asked his companion.
Sitting on the window ledge, the faceless woman was kept from intervening by the presence of innocents. She tapped her cigarette a few times, impatient, and let the ash fall into the shallow pool of water that covered the living room floor.
Others were standing behind her, impatient, but not wanting to cross within a certain distance of her.
It said a lot. She was actively helping to keep Others at bay by being as scary as fuck, and I wasn’t any less worried.
Her foot joined the cigarette with the tapping, making a series of light splashes in the water.
“I know, baby,” the revnenant said. “I’m suspicious we’re in the clear, but I don’t want to bet on it.”
Her tapping intensified for a second, then stopped.
She drew herself to her feet, in a grand sweeping motion, head bowed a little, her hair masking much of her face.
Damn it.
“Apparently you want to bet on it, though,” the revenant said.
“Her face,” Christoff whispered.
“You know,” Callan said, coldly, “When you’ve got an ugly scar on your face, spy convention is to drape your hair over that side, and leave the normal side alone.”
She stood up straighter, and used her free hand to fix her hair, combing it back with her fingers revealing her face as it was.
“Or it’s… that doesn’t make sense,” Callan said, suddenly confused. “That mask-”
She slowly shook her head.
“Not a mask,” the revenant shared. “Well, looks like we’re all-in.”
“All in? What’s the bet?” Callan asked, still leaning to one side, one hand on Alexis’ wrist.
“That we can go to town, and we can get away with it,” the revenant said.
Shit.
I went straight for the faceless woman.
Same plan as the clock man with the broken clock. I sliced her ankles.
I was shunted, moved back to the kitchen.
I had to wait for things to settle down to even see what was going on, but people were moving so damn much. Eva was no doubt at the center of it.
Something told me, though, that of all people, the faceless woman was apparently capable of recovering from cut hamstrings. A fast recovery, no less.
“Callan, take Christoff and Alexis upstairs!” I shouted.
“I can only take Christoff!” he said, his head turning to try and find where I was speaking from.
“You’ll take Alexis, damn it!”
“Blake?” I heard Alexis mumble.
Chaos.
“Alexis,” I said. “Cat’s out of the bag. If there’s anything you can do-”
“Gave too much blood already,” she said, feeble. “Strengthening the library.”
“Okay,” I said. “Alright, you did good, getting us this far.”
“This doesn’t look good,” she said.
Eva was sparring with the two Others in the living room. I could see the agitation on the Others outside.
“No.”
“If… I’m thinking maybe since I’m not at my best, I’m all hollowed out inside, you can take me for a ride?”
“I don’t think I can wear the Alexis suit,” I said. “I’m too solid. Doesn’t feel like I can.”
“Oh.”
“But that’s not a bad idea,” I said.
Books fell to the ground as Eva struck the faceless woman and knocked her into the bookshelf.
A retaliatory swipe of fingernails left gouges in Eva’s upper arm, as if she were made of soft clay.
“Fuck!” Eva shouted.
The revenant tackled her. Not trying to hurt, or to hold. Just something between a hundred and sixty and a hundred and eighty pounds of weight right there, limiting Eva’s movements, while Eva stood a matter of two or three feet from the bogeyman who could knit flesh with a touch.
Eva fought back, but her hand was moving in a palsied way, fingers bending wrong, almost as if they were trying to bend backwards.
Her nerves had probably been fucked up by that one swipe of claws.
She managed to throw the revenant off her, tossing him to the point where the coffee table had once been, and she backed away, panting hard.
That she was putting up a fight at all was amazing unto itself.
Callan crossed my field of vision and nearly stepped on me as Christoff helped him in the direction of the stairs.
“Christoff,” I said. “Help Alexis to the ground.”
“She’ll have to crawl,” Callan said.
“That’s fine. Just… help her down,” I said.
“You’re- not really there, are you?” he asked. Looking toward the stairs.
He was unnerved, confused, not thinking straight. Seeing the faceless woman had broken him into this world. He wasn’t processing much of anything, by the looks of it. Topping it off, he’d been beaten up as badly as anyone.
Except maybe Andy. Andy was, as far as I knew, still out cold.