Bleak
Chapter Seven
"Crane?" Abbie squinted through the echoes of the light in her eyes, desperately trying to clear her vision. Shifting to lay on her stomach, face pressed into the snow, she quickly relieved herself of the backpack. "Crane? Are you all right?" She turned towards the muffled groan given in response, spotting his form through the lingering haze in her sight. Pushing herself to her hands and knees, she crawled through the snow to his side. "Crane?" She rolled him onto his back, her eyes searching his body for visible signs of injury.
"I am well, Lieutenant," he mumbled. "Stunned, but well." Abbie took his arm and pulled him into a sitting position. He rubbed the heels of his palms against his tightly closed eyes. Blinking away the fog, he stood and offered his hand. "Your back," he started.
"I'm fine, Crane," she replied, steadying herself on her feet.
"We are no longer at the manor," he observed.
"No, we're not. Jeep's over there." He turned around, eyeing the vehicle.
"Ah. How…convenient." He focused on Abbie, watching as she brushed the remnants of snow from her clothing. "Why did you not take the shot?" he asked with clear irritation in his voice.
"Why?" Abbie huffed. "Why? Maybe because it had me wrapped in its clutches before I knew it was there. Maybe because I didn't know it was the fucking host!" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I wasn't expecting…I thought it was a child!"
"It is not a child," he chided. "It is a demon."
"Don't. Do not do that." She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back a step. As she turned away, heading towards the backpack, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her into his arms.
"I am sorry," he said, resting his cheek against her temple. "I envisioned this scenario possessing a more favorable outcome." He smoothed a hand over the back of her head. "Are you certain you were not harmed?"
"Just bruised my ego," she replied. He laughed quietly and tightened his arms around her. "We have problems, Crane. Big ones."
"Indeed."
"That thing is a grown being now." She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. "A full-sized body." He nodded.
"We are running out of time."
"If we haven't already." Stepping back, Abbie dug into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone. "I have to call Jenny. We need to regroup." She pushed the power button several times but received no response from the phone. "Shit. Whatever Katrina did to send us here must have overloaded my phone."
"I am afraid my device has suffered the same fate." He held up his phone for show. "There is a convenience station several miles up the road. Perhaps the proprietors will allow us use of their phone."
"I don't have Jenny's number memorized." Crane smiled gently.
"If only you had access to a man with an eidetic memory." With a slight smile, Abbie jogged to the bag, picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. Crane turned as she brushed past him, allowing her a few steps before following. Abbie stopped quickly, turning to him and halting his movements with a harsh hand to his sternum.
"Harlot?" she questioned.
"Yes, well." He cleared his throat. "I…have a few things to share." She nodded.
"You can fill me in on the way to the gas station." They took their respective places in the jeep, Abbie closing the driver's door with more force than Crane felt necessary. He pulled the belt across his chest and clicked the metal lock into place. "Start talking," Abbie ordered as she steered the vehicle to the main road.
"Where to start," he muttered.
"Try the beginning." He rolled his eyes and looked through the passenger window as he collected his thoughts.
"The night we heard Katrina proposing that we sleep…" He looked through her side of the windshield. "Neither of us was dreaming. Katrina is indeed responsible for you and I finding ourselves sharing the bed." He dropped his eyes. "You were correct; she needed the rouse to gain Abraham's trust."
"I told you this would happen," she said quietly. "I told you Henry would find a way to make Katrina believe that we're—"
"It is not Henry's doing."
"I'm sorry?"
"It is not Henry's doing. Katrina…knows that we have shared the bed each night since." Abbie fiercely pressed her foot against the brake pedal. Crane lifted his arms, bracing a hand against the dash, an arm against the door as she quickly maneuvered the vehicle to the side of the road.
"How does she know? Has she..." She bent her knee, placing her leg on the seat as she turned to face him. "Has she been watching us?"
"I can only assume as much." Resting her elbow on the top of the steering wheel, she leaned her forehead into her hand.
"Okay, first of all, if she has been watching us, then she knows damn well that nothing's going on between us." She pinned him with an accusing stare. "So what are you not telling me?"
"Katrina also knows of our conversation last night. She repeated part of it verbatim." Abbie's shoulders dropped as she recalled their conversation.
"She heard you tell me that your marriage was over."
"Indeed."
"How?" she asked again. "How could she hear…" She reached towards him, her hand quickly grabbing the sleeve of his wool coat. "Crane, when Katrina was in Purgatory, she communicated with us through…through visions and—"
"Mirrors," he finished. "She has spoken to us through the mirror at the cabin. Perhaps that connection remains open."
"Wonderful." Shifting the jeep into gear, Abbie returned to the road. "Let's call Jenny. Then, we need to fix this."
SH
"I can't believe they still have one of these." Abbie regarded the olive green phone, eyes taking in the tangle of curled cord hanging from the phone. She lifted the receiver and held it to her ear, wincing at the sharpness of the dial tone. "And that it still works." She poked a finger into the appropriate holes, spinning the rotary dial as she quietly mouthed the numbers Crane assured her belonged to Jenny. "Next to you," she started, turning to face him, "this has to be the oldest thing in Sleepy Hollow." Crane arched an eyebrow, his fingers playing over several dents along the phone's edge.
"I believe I have faired the passage of time much better than this contraption," he said with a small smile.
"Hello?" Jenny's voice came loudly through the speaker.
"Jenny, it's me."
"Abbie? Where are you? What the hell number are you calling from?"
"I'm at a gas station," she replied. Abbie looked at the clerk behind the counter. He leaned on his elbows, making no effort to hide his intentions of listening to her conversation. She looked at Crane and turned her back to the clerk. Crane clasped his hands behind his back, straightened to his full, soldier-like posture and stood behind Abbie, blocking her from the clerk's view. "Katrina fried our phones," she said quietly.
"Do I even want to know?"
"A tale for another time."
"Are you and Crane all right? I've got some weird shit to tell you."
"Yeah, we're fine. And I bet my weird shit beats your weird shit."
"I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that it doesn't. Abbie, Frank said he'd make the call to Henry, but he should have been halfway through dialing the number when Henry showed up. Henry said we shouldn't be surprised that he was there, where we wanted him to be." Abbie bit at her bottom lip. "Hey? Are you still there?"
"Yeah, listen, I need you and Hawley to go to the archives and get the mirror. Meet us at the cabin."
"What about the host? Did you kill it?"
"No," she sighed. "I'll explain when you get to the cabin."
"All right. See ya in a bit." Abbie settled the receiver onto the hook and turned around. She tapped Crane's shoulder.
"Come on; let's go." Crane followed her through the small store, keeping his eyes locked with the clerk's until they reached the door. Once in the cold weather, Abbie tugged on the edges of her knit cap, pulling the fabric over her ears. "Crane? Jenny said Henry was at Tarrytown before Irving could have made the call." She stopped near the jeep and looked up at him. "He knew they wanted him to be there." He nodded.
"Before the host appeared with you, Katrina knew you were on the grounds. She also inquired as to the target of our attack."
"She was expecting us." Abbie moved to the driver's side of the jeep. "We were at the Archives when we talked about killing the host." Crane nodded again. "There are no mirrors at the Archives," she said absently.
SH
Abbie dropped the hem of the bed sheet over the top of the mirror, and pushed the fabric over the edge until she was satisfied it would stay in place. Gathering the extra length of material, she piled it on top of the dresser.
"Did you cover the mirror in the bathroom?" she asked as Crane entered the bedroom.
"I did," he responded. Grabbing another sheet from the small stack on the mattress, Abbie left the room. Crane followed, watching curiously as she moved to the cabin's entryway. She folded the sheet over the crux of her arm and removed three picture frames hanging to the right of the door's frame. She placed them face down on the table and started towards the window. "What is the purpose of unsettling the frames?" he asked gently.
"Who knows what type of reflective surface Katrina can use," she replied. Moving along the outer wall of the cabin, she drew the curtains over their respective windows. One by one, each stretched curtain blocked the gloomy daylight, plunging the dwelling into a murky darkness. "I'm not taking any chances." Abbie pulled the small table up to the opening of the fireplace. She stood on the table and lifted herself on her toes. "We cannot let her have an opening to eavesdrop on our plans." Struggling to maintain her balance, she tried to cover the large picture above the mantle.
"Lieutenant? May I assist you?"
"No. I've got it." Ignoring her response, he moved to her side. He gently placed his left hand on the small of her back and wrapped the fingers of his other hand over her fist. "Crane, I said I didn't need your help." She let go of the sheet and wiggled her fingers from underneath his.
"Forgive me," he drawled insincerely. He shifted to stand behind her and took the edge of the sheet from her left hand. Abbie balled her fists and rested them on the mantle. The heat from the fire was warm across the front of her legs; the heat from Crane's body was much warmer against her back.
"I'm sorry, Crane," she sighed. "I'm just…I'm frustrated."
"I understand. However, what is done," he started, flipping the sheet over the frame, "is done."
"You're talking about Katrina," Abbie stated.
"I am." The words left his lips softly. He placed his hands on her hips and turned her around. "And I wish to speak of her no longer. I would rather discuss you and I." She studied him as the shadows from the firelight played around them. "Twice I have attempted to have a conversation with you." Abbie rolled her eyes, hopped off the table and walked away. "Twice," he continued, following and grabbing her wrist, "we have been interrupted. Perhaps while we are between stages of this particular tribulation, we may finally finish the discussion." He tugged gently on her arm, drawing her to him. Lowering himself, he perched on the back of the sofa's frame. "I am…curious." She looked at him, stilling under his study. "I do not believe you have been entirely honest with me."
"Really?" she countered flatly. He hummed his answer and took hold of her other wrist. His grip was not harsh but it was firm and a quick glance at the placement of his fingers told her he had no plans to release her.
"You have voiced your worry for me over the state of my relationship with Katrina, shown your disappointment, your anger. Apologized profusely for things that are far out of your control. I believe your sentiments genuine and I appreciate the concern."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I do not believe my well-being is the only reason for your trepidation." His fingers tightened ever so slightly around her wrists. "Perhaps your anger stems not from disappointment but from your refusal to accept what you know to be truth."
"Truth?" Abbie stepped backwards, attempting to free her wrists while putting some distance between them. Crane allowed her movement but he did not let go, simply standing and following slowly. "What truth?"
"We form a rather unique and strong team, Lieutenant. We share an intellect and a determination that allows much to pass unspoken between us." With his longer stride, he closed the space he allowed her to gain. He held the backs of her hands to his chest, held her gaze and walked her backwards. "Yet there is one thing of which neither of us speaks; one thing we skirt around acknowledging."
"I don't understand."
"You understand very well." Abbie took a deep breath as her back hit the door. "You do not share much of yourself; only those that know you well have any inkling into to how you think and feel, and yet even they do not know you in your entirety." She looked away, refusing to be pinned under his blue eyes. "You may think that gives you the upper hand." He lifted her chin, forcing her gaze back to his. "Yet I have you at quite the disadvantage, for I see my sentiment reflected in your eyes every time you look at me, and in understanding my own feelings, I understand yours." You are my partner in this war, my friend…You are so much more… Abbie turned her hands, pressing her palms against his chest and pushed him back. His movements were impossibly quick as he responded, pulling her arms down to her sides then forcing her hands behind her back. He caught both wrists in one hand and pushed her against the door again.
"Crane, let go," she warned.
"No."
"Crane." He frowned and shook his head.
"No," he repeated. "I do not think I will. We are fortunate, you and I, to have survived this encounter with Katrina. She is powerful and there is no doubt in my mind that she is capable of disposing of us." He leaned in slightly. "And we have yet to face our biggest threat, Moloch's host. How much longer am I to wait? How much longer am I to hold the truth so close to my heart, pretending that it does not exist? Allowing it to kill me with every breath I take?" he asked in a whisper. "This illusion that you and I are more than friends, more than partners…" She shook her head, tightly closed her eyes. She did not want to hear his words, did not want to be forced into acknowledging something she had worked so hard to hide. "We are more, Abigail, more than either of us has admitted."
"No, Crane, we're…it's not like that."
"Isn't it?" She emphatically shook her head. "Then it is not I with whom you are less than honest. It is yourself." Crane released her wrists and pushed her aside. He opened the door and left the cabin.
SH
Jenny entered the darkened cabin, hand clutched around the strap of her bag as her defenses were immediately on alert. The room was alive with shadows, shapes that danced over the walls and the floor as the fire burned brightly in the hearth. She slowly took a few steps forward, noting the closed curtains and several piles of pictures frames that littered the tables. Hawley entered after her, closing the door and robbing the cabin of all sunlight. Jenny turned to her right, seeing her sister on the small sofa, elbows resting on her knees, face buried in her hands.
"Abs?" she called gently. Abbie lifted a hand in greeting. "Where's Crane?"
"Outside," she said numbly. Jenny elbowed Hawley's side and pointed to the door.
"Really?" he asked.
"Just go." Once Hawley was out of the room and the door again closed, Jenny made her way to the sofa. "Hey," she said gently, sitting next to Abbie. "What's wrong? What happened?" Abbie sat back and offered a weak smile.
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"Yeah, 'cause brooding in the dark is the very definition of 'fine'." She glanced up, frowning at the site above the mantle. "What's that all about?"
"Oh, just the ever magical peeping tom."
"Okay, let's start at the beginning. Ready?" Jenny cleared her throat. "What's wrong?"
"Jenny, we went to the manor…the host…" Abbie huffed a laugh. "It's a grown being, Jenny."
"What? How?" Abbie shrugged.
"The Yuki-onna struck again," she responded, her eyes focused on the fire. "I was able to reach Sheriff Reyes through e-mail. She said four bodies were found north of here last night." She shook her head. "We couldn't kill it, Jenny. We didn't even have an opportunity. Katrina was expecting us; she knew what we were going to do."
"Just like Henry."
"And then, she shooed us away. Just…poof." Abbie lifted her hands, spreading her fingers to mimic her words. "We weren't at the manor any more. That's how she fried our phones." Jenny squinted against the light from the doorway.
"But how?" she asked. "How could they possibly know all of that?"
"Perhaps your sister and I can explain," Crane interjected as he and Hawley entered. He moved to stand in front of the fire, his eyes on Abbie, hers on the floor. "Katrina knew of a conversation the lieutenant and I had last night."
"The ever magical peeping tom," Abbie muttered.
"We believe she and Henry have been using the mirrors to follow our words, as Katrina used them to converse with us the prior evening."
"That would explain how Henry appeared so suddenly at Tarrytown," Hawley offered. "He knew we were coming, maybe he got there first." Crane nodded.
"Following," Jenny whispered. "But we weren't here when we discussed going to the manor to kill the host. We were at the archives." She looked between Crane and Abbie. "Are there mirrors in the archives?"
"No," Abbie answered.
"We do not know if mirrors are the only source of Katrina's spying." Jenny's eyes flicked to the sheet hanging on the wall. "Precaution," Crane explained. "Any reflective surface may be of use to Katrina."
"Sure, right." Jenny sighed. "Does anyone have any good news to share?"
"There is one bit of good tidings," Crane answered. As he moved to the dining table, Jenny and Hawley followed, Abbie remained motionless on the sofa. "I have found one article regarding Moloch's claiming of the host's body. The article references a book with which I am not familiar, one I have yet to locate." He opened to a marked page near the end of the small book and held it for Jenny to see. "However, it does include the number of times the host must feed before Moloch can proceed."
"'Three lots to grow the body, plus one to sustain the transfer'," Jenny read.
"The host has fed, what, twice now?" Hawley asked.
"Thrice, as far as we can gather," Crane answered.
"Wait, wait." Jenny shook her head. "It fed once, turning the baby into a small child. Obviously a second time turning it into an adult. What am I missing?"
"The incordata," Crane replied. "We must assume the souls taken by the incordata were put to use."
"Great," Jenny mumbled.
"I thought the Yuki-onna was supposed to appear with a storm," Hawley stated. "It didn't snow here last night."
"Not here," Abbie said from her place on the sofa. "Sixty miles north of us…dropped ten inches. Four bodies found." She stood and slowly approached the group. "We know where she appeared at her summoning. We know how to…attract her."
"Lieutenant," Crane said sternly.
"We know," she continued, ignoring him, "how to stop her."
"What are you saying, Abs?"
"The host needs one more soul. One more. I'm saying that we set a trap and take out the Yuki-onna once and for all."
"Utter foolishness," Crane interjected. "I will not allow this to happen."
"Care to share with the class?" Jenny asked.
"Your sister and I have already discussed the matter and we are not in agreement on how to proceed."
"I overruled your objection, Crane. There's a system due to hit the city just after nightfall. We have a few hours until sunset. Let's pack our arsenal and get into position." She stepped into Crane as he opened his mouth to argue. "This may be our only chance, Crane. Our only chance to stop this demon and keep Moloch from taking over the world." Hawley sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"We need a sacrifice," he said. "Are we going to draw straws?"
"No." Abbie turned to him. "I'm taking on that part." She turned back to Crane. "And there will be no arguing."
SH
Henry sat quietly in the corner room, eyes wandering over the scaled model of his dreadful city. The old buildings that stood proud along the streets would soon stand no longer. He chuckled softly as he imagined Sleepy Hollow as a black pit of rubble and despair; its citizens crying out in pain and fear as Moloch fulfilled his hellish destiny.
"Jeremy?"
"Mother," he greeted with a smile. "Abraham said you and Jonathan took a walk through the woods. I trust the scenery was lovely?"
"As it always is." Though her voice was pleasant, her expression maintained an air of irritation, anger, leaving Henry less than comfortable in the woman's presence. "Two rather loathsome people visited the manor today."
"Oh?"
"Save your falsehoods for another person, Jeremy," she scolded.
"O-of course, Mother. My apologies." He bowed his head slightly as she approached the table.
"You knew Ichabod and Miss Mills were to visit, yet you did not inform me."
"I didn't want to upset you with such knowledge," he explained. "I was hoping to deter their coming."
"And still you lie." She rounded the table slowly. "I want to make one thing perfectly clear." She stopped a step in front of Henry. "I do not need you or Abraham or Jonathan to protect me from the mortals. I am quite capable."
"As I know you to be, Mother." The host appeared behind Katrina, standing just off to her side. Henry held back his surprise, his concern that the amulet around her neck did not glow despite the host's proximity. It stared back at him, black as the darkest night.
"Each of us is strong," she said. "We are stronger together, yet only if honesty remains intact. I will tolerate no less from either of my children." She lifted her eyes to a point over Henry's shoulder. "Nor from you, Abraham." Katrina offered a small, wicked smile and left the room, the host following.
"The amulet," Abraham started as he reached Henry's side. "What does that mean?"
"Mother's perceptions are now her reality." In time and of her own concurrence, she will come to believe her own lies. Moloch's words rang through Henry's mind as he turned to the taller man. "The final soul for Moloch's transformation has been chosen," he smiled. "What better person to see one through such an incredible change than the person who has guided and nurtured a being from infancy to adulthood?"
"The final soul? Katrina's soul?"
"Indeed," he chuckled lowly.
"No, I will not allow this."
"You have no say in the matter," Henry spat.
"There was never indication that he would take Katrina's soul!"
"You are a fool, Abraham. Powerful as our master is, he cannot take Mother's soul. She must turn it over freely, willingly, as you and I have." She will become her own undoing. "She will then be bound to us, to you, Abraham, for eternity. Is that not what you have always wanted, the woman you love by your side?" Abraham dropped his eyes and nodded.
"It is," he answered. "What must I do?"
"Patience is a virtue," Henry responded. "When the time comes, Moloch will give our orders."
SH
Jenny sat back and adjusted the strap of the seat belt over the front of her body. The tension in the vehicle was unbearable, most of it coming from the two front seats. Abbie said very little as she navigated through the city, asking for directions in short, curt demands. Crane sat stone still in the passenger seat, facing forward. Twice he dared a glance in Abbie's direction, glaring at her from the corner of his eye. He said nothing, offered no expressions, yet Jenny could see the anger in his eyes. Crane and Abbie, she mused. Something was changing between her sister and the tall man, and she feared not for the better. Jenny had been reluctant to trust Crane when they first met. It's was Abbie's trust in him that allowed Jenny to open up. Abbie never trusted anyone with ease. Even Corbin, who proved to be everything she needed to turn her life around, scaled dozens of wall to have Abbie's approval. Yet she trusted Crane nearly from the start. I guess he made me feel like for the first time, I had a purpose that I understood, she had told Jenny. And someone who I was supposed to find it with. Considering their roles as Witnesses, their quickly formed bond made perfect sense to Jenny, in a 'some things are meant to be' kind of way.
Then Katrina entered the picture, physically entered the picture, and nothing seemed right. Abbie didn't trust Katrina and she made her thoughts on the matter known. Crane appeared to understand her reasons and stated that he had doubts of his own. Yet the two could not settle and the friction between them grew. Abbie seemed out of place, Crane, uncomfortable. After nearly two weeks of Katrina's absence, the pair still seemed off kilter, though the tension was different, angry. Awkward. Jenny turned her eyes back to Crane. She was certain she had witnessed this type of awkwardness from Crane before.
"There is it," Hawley said, tapping a knuckle against his window. Jenny looked past Hawley and through the window. The eeriness of the wooden area was all too familiar to her, but the scene had otherwise changed. The once untouched snow was packed with tire tracks and scuffled boot prints. The body they had found against the tree was no longer present, in its place a lengthy stretch of yellow crime scene tape. The winds from the oncoming storm whipped the tape through the air. It beckoned them like a finger crooked, to venture into the air of death.
"All right," Abbie said. "Let's go." Jenny shook the unpleasant thoughts from her head and left the vehicle. She joined her sister as Abbie lifted the back gate of the jeep. "That tape. Is that where the body was?"
"Yeah," Jenny answered. Abbie leaned the front of her thighs against the bumper and reached into the vehicle.
"I'm not using that tree," she stated. As she straightened, she pulled a bat and a coiled length of rope towards the opening.
"Lieutenant, I must, again, express my extreme displeasure with—" Abbie shoved the rope into Crane's chest. He lifted his arm, fumbling to gather the loose loops.
"I said no arguing. Tie me to the tree." She turned and walked away from the jeep.
"I will not," he stated as he followed her. Hawley pulled the leather bag from his shoulder, carefully placing it on the carpeted trunk space next to the bat.
"Is this really happening?" he asked. "They're really going to fight now of all times?"
"Just get the mirror ready," she sighed. "Like it or not, we're going to have to weather this one." She watched as Abbie quickly turned to face Crane.
"You will or I will do it myself," she spat.
"You have no right to take this position, Lieutenant."
"No right? I'm a Witness, Crane. This is part of my job."
"Have you forgotten that I, too, am a Witness? Our job is not to make foolish decisions."
"It's not a foolish decision. I can't let Hawley or Jenny do this. We need them, both of them, to help us. And you have…you have people to come back to, people who can still be saved. But not me. I don't have that."
"Lieutenant."
"You said it is not our fate for one of us to bury the other. We stand together or fall together. You put yourself in harm's way to lure the host out of the manor. I am taking a turn now."
"Together does not mean one of us cannot be seriously injured, Lieutenant! That is all Henry and Moloch need is for one of us to be out of commission for any length of time."
"Tie me to the goddamn tree, Crane." He dropped the rope and straightened his posture.
"Do as you must," he said. "I will be no part of this."
"Fine," she huffed. She bent over and grabbed a handful of loops. "Have it your way." She turned and stalked away from him, muttering under her breath.
"You had to have known you weren't going to win that argument," Jenny said as she stepped to Crane's side.
"Indeed." He turned to her. "Though that will never keep me from trying." Jenny watched as Abbie hugged the tree, transferring the rope from one hand to another as she wound it messily around the trunk.
"Hawley?" Abbie called. "Bring me the mirror." Jenny took a tentative step towards her sister, squinting as a soft white light appeared a few yards behind the elder.
"Uh, Abbie?" Crane and Hawley joined Jenny's side, the three transfixed by the churning mist.
"Not now, Jenny. Bring the damn mirror."
"Lieutenant?" Abbie dropped the end of the rope and looked angrily towards the group.
"The mirror, please!" The light grew, forming a vaguely humanoid body.
"Abbie, behind you!" Jenny shouted. Abbie turned and found herself staring into a pair of large, green eyes. Her stomach twisted into knots as she watched the figure's face morph, each feature alarmingly detailed.
"Oh, shit."