III - Come the Horsemen

New York City. Darla Hails was in the subway, her mind blank, and her eyes staring at the ceiling of the wagon. Oblivious to her, an old woman was knitting. Darla only paid heed to her when a gang of punks entered the wagon and began teasing the lady, and struggling with her for her purse. Still, Darla remained aloof until one of the punks gazed at her and called her something.

"You're talking to me, punk?" she muttered standing up.

The punk swaggered towards her. At one point he scratched his crotch. Darla eyed him with disgust.

"Havva problem, b---h?" he grunted.

"Yes, you."

He laughed and glimpsed at his lads, who joined his laughter. In the meantime, she sensed one of her kind around.

"Perhaps you're a bit... tense. Would you like me to..." He grabbed his crotch. " impale you with my sword?"

"You're referring to that toothpick?" She guffawed raucously. "Absolutely pathetic! Don't make me laugh!"

She turned away but the punk grabbed her firmly by the left arm. She tried to release her arm but upon his insistence, she clenched her right fist and punched his nose. He fell holding his bloody nose as his gang came after Darla.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice called from behind the punks. Darla grinned. They turned. A man was before them. He was shorthaired, dressed in jeans, red shirt and a long black coat, and looked calm and mellow, despite the early thirties he appeared to have. A tiny scar was below his eye.

"Whatcha problem, sonovab---h!" one of them drew out a knife and approached the other threateningly as the others chanted for him. He lunged at the man, who avoided the blow, and gripped the punk's wrist twisting beyond the resistance of the joint. A crack and a cry were heard. The train was arriving at the station. The doors opened and the punks dragged his friend out and disappeared, too panicked to do anything.

Darla stood where she was. The old lady was smiling at her and at the man that had saved her from the punks. Noticing some sort of relationship between them, she returned to her needles. The man approached, a small smile posed on his lips. She sat down again, and he joined her.

"Well managed old man." She whispered. "You're stalking me again, Methos?"

"I admit I was looking for you. But stalk you? I am too old to do that." His face feigned seriousness.

"And why... you were looking for me?" she queried, a broad smile on her face.

"Kronos." Darla's face darkened. The good mood inside her disappeared. Her smile faded and she bit her lower lip, so hardly it bled. Her fingers began to tick against her thighs. "I'm sorry about Jin Ke, but you cannot go after him. He is too powerful for you."

"I intend to revert that." She was next to him, yet sounded distant to her.

The train reached the following station. Darla stood up and got off the train. Methos followed her. She walked fast, and he followed in like.

"Darla... I'm serious. He is too seasoned an immortal."

They walked up the stairs and jumped into the night of New York. She moved even faster, hoping to lose him. He tried to keep up with her but she was slipping away. The traffic lights saved him, since Darla had to stop. He continued his dissuasive attempts until she snapped.

"I will go for Victor. He will train me again."

"If he doesn't find Kronos and loses."

"Kronos and Victor?" Lights went green but they remained in the spot. To their sides, pedestrians flocked to work, party, dancing, or whatever. "Come to my apartment, Methos. Discussing our affairs in public is not wise." She motioned left. He hesitated. She looked insistently. "Come, I won't rape you."

-----

Five blocks later, Darla and Methos were half a street away from her building. The street was empty. The night was cold but neither the wind blew nor rain poured down. They had changed the topic to trifles. Where she had been, as if Methos did not know, and where he had been, something that always was a surprise. They halted upon sensing an immortal. More than one. Darla shuddered upon sensing the evil nearby.

From the door of her building, four shadows stepped out and began to walk. They formed a horizontal line that stepped evenly, almost choreographically, towards them. Darla recognised Kronos, completely bald and with a black patch over his socket, and clenched her fists. She glimpsed at Methos, who was gulping. She flashed back at Kronos, who was staring at Methos with a wicked smile. They knew each other and Methos had said nothing. Why was not she surprised? As to who the other three were, no clue.

Kronos stopped and the other three spread across the street. Two to his sides, the third one behind him.

"Brother!" he bellowed. Darla glared at Methos, who composed himself before stepping forward.

"Kronos..."

"I'd given up my quest on you and now I find you... with that whore!"

Darla produced her broadsword.

"Want the other eye out?" she grunted.

Kronos grinned and drew out his blade. But he held it by the hilt, as if it were a microphone.

"Allow me to introduce you my new Horsemen." His arm motioned left, where a hunched figure that resembled the one of Notre Dame glared at Darla and Methos. "Only a beast could replace our dead brother Caspian. Meet Ursa." Kronos waved at his right. "In the place and stead of our lost Silas, Morgan Walker." A man with scarce traces of grey among his blond hair eyed Darla curtly, but focused on Methos. "And replacing the treacherous Methos, a deadly lady. Catherine." A brown-haired woman with big fleshy lips regarded them uninterestedly.

All of them felt a new immortal. Oh, one more to ImmortalMania. Stay tuned, folks, Darla thought. Appearing from behind her and Methos, a hulkish man moved past them. She recognised the shape and was taken aback. Methos sighed in relief. Kronos burst into laughter.

"Look who's joining the party." He sobered. "Hello, Kurgan... "

"Nice patch... bad eye surgery?" The voice came out with a lash of irony.

An alarm was heard, coming from nearby. Darla, till then hypnotised by her mentor's appearance, turned left. Someone had broken a shop window. Methos was with his sword in hand, removing some glass bristles from his bleeding hand, next to the mentioned window. Kronos put up his hand and his horsemen retreated into the darkness.

"Three crows with one stone. My new brothers and I will relish this." The leader blurted out before disappearing.

"Victor..." Darla whispered.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" He bellowed, motioning towards his Jaguar.