Doc starts to head back to camp, but he pauses long enough to say, “Be cool. He’s really a good guy.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking to Chappy or to me.
We’re finally alone. Chappy slides the stake from his gear belt. He brandishes it like a dagger.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I warn him.
“Good,” he smiles. “Then this’ll be easy.”
He swings at me in a wide arc. I jump back, avoiding his strike. My gut tells me to fight back. I can easily put him down, but I practice restraint. I dodge his attacks and limit my attacks to verbal jabs.
“What is your problem with me, Chappy?” I ask. “That I’m a vampire or that I’m a hebe?”
He doesn’t answer, but keeps swinging away. He’s smart enough to avoid direct eye contact, so I can’t use the mesmer to put an end to this.
Then I screw up. Chappy stabs at me, but I spin to my right to avoid contact. He catches my sleeve with his left, pulls me in. And plunges the stake through my chest.
I stagger back and drop to my knees.