The Headless Horseman loomed over her, the foul odor that emanated from his wound intensifying. “You and I are not so dissimilar. We both crave the violence. And we both enjoy the kill.”
“I only slay people who need to die — criminals and scum.”
“No one is innocent. All men are fated to die.”
“Let’s agree to disagree, then.” Gravedigger dropped into a battle stance. “Only one of us is walking away from this.”
The Hessian drew his sword. “You are a brave woman — the bravest I have ever faced.”
“Flattery’s going to get you nowhere.”
Gravedigger struck first.
“I hate this.”
Mitchell didn’t bother looking at Cedric. He knew what the other man meant and shared the sentiment. Instead, he continued watching through his binoculars, silently cheering as Charity stabbed The Hessian through the midsection. The blow wouldn’t fell the undead warrior but it might slow him down, nonetheless.
“Seriously, can’t we do something?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know — hurry the boat to the dock and join in? Or just start shooting from here?”
“We’re still too far away — we’d just be wasting ammo and attracting attention. And even with the engines opened up full blast, the fight’s liable to be over by the time we get to shore.” Mitchell lowered his binoculars. “Charity has to do this by herself. She thinks she screwed up with Meeks and with the Hendry Hall affair. She needs a straight up victory.”
Cedric lit a cigarette and exhaled. His nervousness was palpable. Despite the fact that Mitchell hid it well, he was just as bad. He thought of Charity as a close friend — and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more besides.
“You got a spare?” Mitchell asked.
“Didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t. But I think I’m going to start.”
Gravedigger grunted as The Horseman’s blade crashed down upon her own. His strength was incredible and even with all the skills she had to draw upon, the battle was looking a bit one-sided. Her only hope lay in wounding him in his weak spot — the gory wound where his head had once resided. But reaching that spot was proving harder than she’d anticipated.
“Surrender, girl… and I’ll make it quick.”
“Please. You’d be so disappointed if I did that, you’d probably torture me for days just to spite me for ruining your fun.”
“This is true.”
The Hessian swung his weapon in a wide arc, allowing Gravedigger to duck under the blow. She grabbed the hilt of her own sword with both hands and drove it forward with all the strength she could muster. The blade sliced through his genitals and scraped against the pubic bone.
The Horseman’s reaction was to grunt and strike her on the side of her shoulder with a closed fist.
Gravedigger grimaced. Her entire arm was tingling now. She sprang back from him, executing a series of flips that would have been the envy of any gymnast. She came to a stop just short of Charon’s sedan. Leaping atop it, she tensed as The Horseman barreled towards her.
The villain’s weapon whipped towards her but Gravedigger jumped upwards, over the attack. She then raised her weapon and speared it into his neck. The effect was immediate, as The Hessian snarled and backed away, gloved hands reaching ineffectually for the embedded sword.
Gravedigger drew a dagger, planning to continue her assault before he managed to rid himself of the painful implement. She spun the knife through the air and stabbed her foe. The Horseman grunted and twisted his body, preventing the weapon from striking his neck wound. It ended up in his shoulder, where it spent only a few seconds before Gravedigger yanked it free.
The Horseman caught her with a kick to the midsection, following it up with a punch to the top of her head. She staggered under the blow and was unable to avoid his sword, which caught her in her right hip. Blood flowed freely from the wound and Gravedigger knew that she was in danger of blacking out soon.
“I am more powerful than you,” The Horseman said. He proved the point by punching her hard across the chin. The blow knocked her to her knees and left her ears ringing. He grabbed hold of the back of her hood and yanked her head up. His sword flashed against her throat, stopping just short of drawing blood. “I admire your bravery, however. At the last moment, even my stoutest of enemies have the flash of terror in their eyes. Sometimes they even beg. But you are different.”
“I’ve died already,” she hissed. “There’s nothing you can do that’s going to top that.”
“Let’s see, shall we?” The Horseman asked. There was undeniable glee in his voice.
Gravedigger drove her elbow into her enemy’s stomach but it failed to dislodge his grip on her. Desperate to prolong the battle, she slipped a hand into the top of her boot, grabbing hold of a small porcelain egg-shaped object. Yanking it free, she swung her arm up and slipped the object into the Hessian’s pocket.
The Horseman backed away, dropping his grip on Gravedigger. He heard a ticking sound emanating from his pocket and he reached a gloved hand in to grab the foreign object. He had just touched it when the device exploded, delivering enough impact to blow a hole in The Hessian’s side. Gore dripped in copious amounts and the white of his bones showed through the flesh.
Roaring, The Horseman swung his sword in a killing stroke, intending to slice straight through the top of her skull.
Gravedigger vaulted to the side, flipping through the air. She landed in a crouch, dagger at the ready. As The Horseman staggered to face her, she raised her right arm and fired a crossbow bolt. It pierced her foe’s leg, pinning it to the warehouse wall behind him. A second bolt slid into place and it, too, was fired, trapping the villain’s other leg. As he struggled to free himself, Gravedigger rose to her full height.
“Say goodbye to the mortal world,” she hissed, breathing deeply. Her hand trembled slightly, not just from the loss of blood, but also from a rising excitement. A part of her did enjoy the fight, the kill or be killed nature of the conflict — in that regard, The Horseman was right. Now that she sensed victory within her grasp, an almost sexual lust was filling her limbs.
The Horseman ceased trying to free himself. He lowered his weapon and his shoulders squared. His injured side was twitching, the magic that healed nearly all his wounds moving too slowly to save him under these circumstances. “I salute you… but this is not the end for me. When you are nothing more than a vaguely remembered memory, I will return. I will kill anew.”
“Give it a rest — and go back to hell,” Gravedigger said. She jumped up, stabbing downward with a stroke that delivered her knife’s blade deep into The Hessian’s neck.
The Horseman’s scream echoed throughout the city, waking those who slumbered and chilling the blood of Sovereign’s fiercest. At 6196 Robeson Avenue, Lazarus Gray looked up from his work to experience an uncommon shiver… while Doc Daye momentarily lost his train of thought. Onboard The Heart of Fortune, McCall woke from a troubled sleep, visions of the undead filling his mind’s eye.
Gravedigger hit the ground in a tumbling roll, coming up to find that her weapons lay before her. There was no sign of The Horseman’s corpse, nothing to show that he had ever been in her midst — gone, even, were his footprints and the blood he had spilled.
“Blood,” Gravedigger whispered. She glanced down and saw that there was evidence of The Horseman’s presence, after all. Her wounds, seeping great amount of her life’s blood….