Damien stirred awake with a wheeze. His lungs screamed for air, the fleshy bags crushing under the weight of the fluid pooling about them.

He lifted his head from the floor, struggling to bring himself upright. He was weak. Terribly weak. He could feel his heart slowing its pace, the ticking clock falling out of rhythm.

“There you are.”

The grizzled voice chilled the sluggish river flowing through Damien’s veins. He pushed himself forward, using what little strength he could muster to see his surroundings. He didn’t need to move. He knew who stood before him; but he felt the need to stare down the barrel of the gun.

The flash of lightning confirmed his thoughts; the quick burst of light reflecting off the dome of the mountain’s skull. Caesar, he thought he recalled the man being called. It was just the two of them. Predator and prey.

“I told you ye wouldn’t get away.”

“It’s too late.” Damien’s voice left his lips in a whisper. The lids of his eyes slid shut as his head lowered back to rest on the paved floor.

The cold tap of a metal barrel digging into his scalp stirred Damien’s eyes open. “Rise and shine, mate.” A toothy grin plastered the villain’s face as he towered over the crumpled body. “Our game isn’t over.”

“You’re too late.”

“No, mate,” the pirate cackled, kicking the wounded man onto his back. “I’m just in time.”

Damien’s chest heaved violently. A gust of air exploded from his lungs, propelling a liquid stream from within; the liquid staining his lips as it dripped to a puddle beside him. “It’s gone.”

Caesar’s face grew stern. He planted his boot against the man’s throbbing chest, pressing down until the man sputtered and spat. “You’re bluffing,” he growled, jamming his free hand into the man’s jacket. “Where is it?”

“It’s gone,” Damien wheezed as the pirate’s fingers found nothing but linen. “For all I know, it has left this accursed place.”

With a scream of annoyance, the pirate struck the barrel of his pistol across Damien’s face. The wounded man’s face smacked hard against the pavement from the blow as Caesar lifted his boot from his chest. He took a step back, pondering what he would do next.

“You lost,” Damien spat, lifting his swollen mug from the pavement. “It’s time to walk away.”

“Walk away?” The pirate’s brow lowered against the bridge of his rigged nose. He lowered himself to a knee, leaning his face close to Damien’s. The pirate’s searing breath burned his skin as his words licked his ears. “You can still talk, mate.”