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as it did so。 Something warm and sticky trickled down his cheek； the first blood of the night was spilled。
Sabat came to his feet； leapt back in the same movement for his adversary was ing at him again with a throaty snarl of animal fury； his mind conditioned so that nothing could control the basic urge to kill。 And Sabat was well primed for killing。
Feinting one way； then the other； blows that fell short as two vicious killers faced each other； their movements taking them back into the adjoining cemetery of yesteryear； seeking footholds on the rough uneven ground。
'You will die！' the youth snarled； now using his weapon clasped like a dagger； the muzzle a vicious tapering blade that was capable of cutting through flesh and bone with ease。
Again Sabat dodged； stumbled as he momentarily lost his footing； and before he could recover his assailant was upon him； bearing him to the ground。 Sabat's left hand caught the other's right wrist； tried to wrest the weapon from those sweaty grimed fingers； grunting with exertion as strength matched strength。 Physically the two batants were equal； possibly the younger man having a slight advantage because of his weight and the fact that he had landed uppermost when they fell。 That 12…inch spear of death lost an inch； gained two； forcing its way slowly down to Sabat's neck。 One lunge into the open throat would be sufficient and for the ex…SAS man it would all be over。
Sabat was only too well aware that the tide was turning against him。 The killer's strength stemmed from that fanatical devotion to Lilith； each and every one of her followers indoctrinated hypnotically by the Kamakazi creed。 Himself included。 The point gained another inch and he knew he could not hold it off much longer。 God； if only the bastard hadn't got hold of his other hand as well he could have reached the 。38。 But he couldn't move。
A moment of certain death； that period in which a drowning person's life is supposed to flash before them； decades crammed into one split second； a lightning replay as a last reminder before they plunge into the unknown。 And something came back to Sabat 。 。 。 that last encounter with Quentin 。。。 no； with himself because he was Quentin； the way each had anticipated death； knowing that there could only be one survivor。 A sensation of falling； the ground seeming to swallow him up 。。。 Oh Jesus； it was real； the earth seemed to have given way； pitching the two struggling men down into some awful chasm！
A blackness in which there was neither street lighting nor stars； the air stale and musty as though it had been trapped in here for hundreds of years； the pregnant feel of damp cold evil suddenly released。
Sabat told himself it wasn't happening； it was a flashback to that time when Quentin （himself） had died and had been reborn； the same stench of grave soil； and once again it could only have one possible oute。
A shattering impact that jarred every bone； every nerve in his body told him it was no figment of his tortured memory。 The earth had opened up； and he and this disciple of death had been pitched into some foul place。 The youth was still on top of him； giving a loud grunt as the breath was knocked from his body and in that one instant Sabat proved his superiority。 The grip relaxed for a split second and he grabbed the barrel of the syringe…gun； pushed it away from his throat and felt it bury itself in the soft soil。 His other hand came free even as the other man recovered； Sabat found the butt of the 。38 and dragged it free of its holster。
'Die； pig！' Huge hands encircled Sabat's throat； instantly beginning to throttle him； the Stygian darkness starting to turn a dull red。
A flash of crimson； the report paralysing his tortured brain。 Sabat felt the body on top of him jerk upwards then fall back so that the 。38 barrel was buried in soft flesh。 Firing again； the recoil jarring his wrist； numbing arm and shoulder； almost smothered by the limp weight of his heavy adversary。
Still firing； the reports now like muffled depth charges in deep water； rippling vibrations。 The grip on Sabat's neck relaxed； he fought for air； gulping in the thick gunpowder…smoke。
Disorientated； a desert traveller bewildered and frightened in a sudden blinding sandstorm that obliterated everything； trying to decide whether it was an hallucination； a recollection of some past macabre event or whether it was actually happening。 Sabat didn't know； didn't care。 All he wanted to do was to e out of this alive。 Innumerable fears； the one uppermost being that he was the victim of some kind of cerebral attack。 His skull felt as though it was swelling； bursting； his nerves screamed with some indescribable torture。
He struggled desperately to heave the other man's body clear of his own； and succeeded in tipping it to one side so that they were both wedged securely at the bottom of some kind of narrow deep pit。 Sabat's clothing was saturated； he felt the warmth of thick fluid that was pouring on to him； knew what it was even at the height of the terrible mental torture which he was undergoing。 Blood His first fear was that it was his own； but when he discovered that he was still holding the 。38 he knew where it came from。 The one who lay alongside him was bleeding profusely； still alive； gurgling and bubbling away the crimson fluid of life。
Sabat fought blindly to extricate himself from the other。 The groping fingers of his free hand found a cavity； one that was soft and warm like a bath sponge。 He snatched his fingers away； a length of slippery offal ing out with them。
Somehow Sabat had squeezed free； was standing on the other man's body； groping about him。 Walls barely three feet apart； rough stone and soil that crumbled as he clawed at them。 Animal instinct had replaced logical thinking； a trapped creature whose one thought was of escape； a badger blindly digging its way out of a blocked sett before the terriers reached it。
He looked up； saw a jagged square above him； tiny twinkling distant lights that could only be stars。 Leaping； falling back on bloody flesh and bone that grunted its protest as the last of the air in those blood…filled lungs was expelled。 Sabat leapt again； this time got a hold on a piece of rock that held him firm； pulled himself up with another instinctive movement； which had been born from hours spent climbing ropes and trapeze bars in his gymnasium。
Hauling himself out into the open； scrambling free； impervious to sharp slivers of stone that tore his clothing and cut his body； shambling away on all…fours； spurred on by the terrible fear that the ground below him might cave in again and reclaim him for its own。
He covered no more than a dozen yards before he collapsed； lying full…length； still clutching that 。38； its chamber full of spent shells。 Unconsciousness threatened like approaching storm clouds but thinned and dispersed； leaving him looking up at the starry sky； knowing that he had escaped when the jaws of death had already closed over him； trying to reason but giving it up in the end。 And somewhere som