The crash from her caffeine high augmented her exhaustion considerably. Lieutenant Abbie Mills felt her body move in sluggish, sloppy movements divorced from her swift and concise, cat-like rhythm. She rubbed her eyes, not caring if her makeup smudged. After the day she had managed to live through, she had earned the right to look like a raccoon and not care. She plopped into her chair and promptly propped her head in her hand as the dim light of her desk lamp burned her agitated eyes. Instantly, her hands went up, checking to ensure her eyes hadn't turned to sand as she'd seen occur earlier that day to two people. She sighed, satisfied with her findings and hung her head, putting a hand to her chest in a vain attempt to steady her erratic heart.
"Leftenant?" A deep, smooth English accent wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She smiled to herself as she looked up into the concerned blue eyes of her new companion, Ichabod Crane, who stood holding two glasses of water. "Are you well?"
"I'm just fine, Crane. Thank you." She took a glass he extended to her and sipped the cool liquid gratefully. She regarded him thoughtfully. "We're both tired and in need of a long, hot bath."
Crane frowned slightly as he put a hand behind his back, giving him an almost regal appearance as he considered the idea of modern day bathing. He took a sip of water and set the glass on the edge of Mill's desk. "Yes, the closet of scorching rain this era's people torture themselves with daily."
Mills chuckled, holding the glass in both her hands. "It's called a shower when it comes from the showerhead above you and the temperature can be adjusted to your liking. Come on, it's been a long day. I'll take you back to the hotel and show you how to work the shower."
"I thought you wanted a bath?" Crane watched Mills stand and walk past him despite his confused expression. He paused a moment longer and hurried to the door. He held it open for her and proceeded to walk a step ahead of her to her assigned police cruiser that sat alone in the parking lot. After a moment of fumbling with the handle on the driver's side, he threw a curious look at her. "It refuses to open. How is this possible?"
"Locked car door: one, Ichabod Crane: zero." Mills laughed as she unlocked the door and got into her seat. She glanced into the rear view mirror as Crane went around to his side. When she adjusted the mirror, empty, blackened sockets stared back at her. The creatures pale skin glowed in the moon light as its grossly elongated fingers reached for her, its claws scratching her skin. She screamed and twisted in her seat to stare at the empty back seat.
"Leftenant? What is it?" Crane peered into the empty seats then back at the startled officer. "There is nothing there, Miss Mills."
"I saw him, Crane. I swear it. He was right there!" She turned in her seat and clasped her hands over her eyes as though she were protecting them from turning to sand. She felt Crane sink into his seat and his warm hand upon her shoulder.
"You've nothing to fear, Miss Mills. You successfully vanquished Ro'kenhrontyes. The nightmare is over."
She looked over to him and raised a brow. "What about the next bad dude that comes to help the horseman? If this Rock… Rocky… the Sandman could mess with people so badly, I almost don't want to know what the next guy can do."
"For this evening, Miss Mills, the worst is over. Dawn is upon us and with the light comes peace. We must rest and prepare for our next engagement." He gave her a comforting smile. He watched as she turned the vehicle on and put on her seat belt. He followed suit as she eased the vehicle out of the parking lot so as not to startle him.