He didn't expect the Horseman to answer - he was headless, after all - and even despite his situation, he wondered if the Horseman could even hear him in the first place. Well, that would make pleading rather useless, wouldn't it? Ichabod barely had time to mull this over during the short time that the Horseman paused, and once again he began to advance forward, his footsteps impossibly heavy on the ground.
He saw the sword, and in that moment he knew that if he didn't move - if he just stood there, paralyzed by fear - then the steel blade being withdrawn before him was going to be stained with his blood.
There was nothing else he could do but run - so run he did. Ichabod turned and raced up the stairs, practically tripping over himself in his haste. "Help! Someone, please, it's the Horseman!" He didn't know if anyone would, or could, help; but fear had taken precedence over rationality. There had to be somewhere he could hide, but where? Was anywhere safe? He didn't dare look back for fear of falling, and if he fell it gave the Horseman time to catch up. He paused briefly at the top of the stairs, scanning the hall frantically before opting to continue on up to the eighth floor. Cole's apartment, 802 - maybe he could hide there.