The Demonata 6-10

Sharmila tilts her head towards us. “I apologise if I seemed critical. But I had to know the nature of the boys I am to fight and die for. Now I am confident that you will not fail if the opportunity presents itself. Thank you for reassuring me.”

She wanders off to talk with Beranabus. Kernel looks sideways at me. “I normally wouldn’t give another person’s word for them, especially when I’m not sure of it, but it seemed like the right thing to say.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” I reply stiffly. “I won’t let us down.”

“I wish I could believe that.” He doesn’t say it to hurt me. Just speaking the truth as he sees it.

“I chickened out in the Demonata’s universe,” I whisper, blushing. “But this is different. I’ll fight. And I’ll die if I have to. I’m not afraid of dying, no more than anybody else in this room.”

“Really?” Kernel’s unconvinced. “If I fall, and you and Beranabus make it to the lodestone, you’ll let him drive a knife through your heart or chop off your head?”

“Without a moment’s hesitation. Not because I’m incredibly brave, but because I’m terribly afraid.” I give a sickly laugh. “If I don’t let him kill me, it would mean fighting to survive in a world overrun by demons. The thought of that scares me more than death.”

Kernel chuckles. “Know something crazy? I believe you.” He offers his hand and I take it. “Good luck, Grubbs.”

“Good luck.”

“May we both die honourably,” he says.

“And take every damn demon down with us,” I add with a twisted grin.

→ Tooling up. Everybody arms themselves with guns, knives, axes — pretty much anything we can carry. Demons can’t be killed by regular weapons, but we can invest the blades and bullets with magical powers.

“How many of the Disciples are capable of killing demons?” I ask Kernel, testing short swords for feel and weight.

“In this universe?” He pulls a face. “If it was a normal crossing… Sharmila, Shark, one or two others. But there’s more energy in the air because it’s a tunnel, not a window. Others should be able to tap into that and find the ability to kill. If we’re lucky.”

One more Disciple arrives while we’re readying ourselves. An ancient, tiny woman who walks with the aid of a cane. The sight of her picking up a mace and swinging it over her head makes me smile. A few of the others grin too. But then she mutters a quick spell and a crop of seven-centimetre long blades grow out of the mace head, which glows with magical energy. Nobody doubts her after that.

Then it’s to the helicopters which Shark has arranged through his contacts in various armies. We’re going to fly in and set down as close to the cave entrance as we can. Three helicopters, five of us to each. I’m with Beranabus, Kernel, Shark and Sharmila — the core of the force. The pilot’s an ordinary human, as are the other two. Soldiers on loan from the forces currently engaged in hopeless warfare with the Demonata. Shark has told a few commanders of our plan. They’ve handed him control of their troops and will do whatever else they can to assist.

The helicopter rises smoothly, as if the ground is dropping away. I haven’t been in a helicopter before. It’s a curious sensation. Not as much of a blast as flying through the sky with Beranabus, but way more interesting than a plane.

“I never thought I’d be doing this,” Shark bellows over the noise of the whirring blades. He’s smiling. “How often does the chance come along to end a war? You see it all the time in films, but in real life wars are decided over a variety of fronts and battles. It’s possible to play an important role in victory, but only a limited part. To actually be charged with the task of going in and saving the world…” He whoops with joy.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Kernel remarks sarcastically.

“Damn straight I am,” he hollers. “Might as well — we’re going to die regardless.”

I turn my attention away from the battle-hungry Shark. He’s probably got the right attitude for a fight like this, but I find his gung ho approach tasteless and disturbing. This isn’t a game. We’re not competing for a trophy. If we lose, we take humanity down with us. I don’t see how you can be anything but stone cold miserable when lumbered with a responsibility like that.

Looking down as we whizz along, closing in on Carcery Vale. We’re deep into Demonata territory now. This used to be my home. Not any more. It’s theirs now. Abandoned cars. Burning buildings. Pools of blood smear the roads and fields. Slaughtered animals and humans everywhere, some cut up into bits and strewn about the place, others arranged in obscene patterns by the demons, either for their own amusement or to scare anyone who ventures into their realm.

I spot a few of the monsters messing with bodies on the ground. I don’t look closely enough to determine whether their victims are alive or dead. I turn my gaze away and pray for their sakes that they’re corpses.

Others are lounging in trees or in patches of shade, sheltering from the sun. Although stronger demons can move about during the day, they don’t like sunlight and aren’t as powerful as they are at night. The land would be teeming with lots more of the beasts if we were a few hours later in the day.

The outskirts of Carcery Vale. More of a visible demonic presence. Most of the buildings are ripped to pieces. Bodies scattered everywhere. We fly over my old school — dozens of children and teachers are impaled on spikes, grey and red, covered in feasting flies, slowly rotting.

For the first time I think about my friends. Until now I’ve been fixed on Dervish and Bill-E. But all the others will have fallen to the Demonata too. Frank, Mary, Leon, Shannon… Reni. I rip my gaze away from the bodies in case I spot the face of someone I know. Tears come, but I fight them back. I can’t think about my friends, not even my uncle and brother. The best – only – way I can avenge them is by focusing on the demons and the battle. No room for pity, doubt or fear. Mustn’t imagine them suffering, the pain they must have gone through, whether any escaped. The demons. The cave. Dying. These should be my only concerns.

The air above the Vale is thick with planes and helicopters. Shark ordered the regular troops in ahead of us. They’ve been blanket-bombing the area for the past twenty minutes, most of their force aimed at the demons around the entrance to the cave, disrupting them, blowing up the bodies of the lesser demons. The effects are temporary – the demons will piece themselves back together once the shelling stops – but any minor advantage is a bonus.

Zoning in on the cave. I don’t recognise the area any more. There used to be a forest here at the back of our house, stretching all the way to Carcery Vale and for many kilometres in other directions. Now it’s been firebombed into oblivion. The land is ash and tree stumps. Bare, scarred, dead. It resembles the face of an asteroid. Doesn’t belong to this world. Something from outer space or a bad dream.

We fly over the rubbly ruins of a large building. We’re several seconds past it before I realise — that wreck used to be my home! The wonderful three storey mansion has been reduced to a skeletal shell. I’m almost glad Dervish isn’t here to see it. He loved that house. The sight of it in this sorry state would bring tears to his eyes.

The pilot’s in constant contact with the other aircraft, snapping orders and directions, carefully manoeuvring his way through the fleet. If he’s scared, he doesn’t show it. I wish the fighting could be left to the professionals like him. But I guess ordinary people always get sucked into battles. It’s the nature of warfare.

“Like a scene out of hell, isn’t it?” Shark notes with relish, stroking the long, gleaming barrel of a machine gun hanging from his neck.

“Let us hope it is hell for the demons when we finish,” Sharmila says.

The helicopter stops advancing. Hovers in the air, the pilot waiting for the other two copters to join us. I stare at the ground. Hard to spot the cave entrance. Bombs are going off all around, throwing up dirt, stones, bits of flesh and bones. I see stronger demons moving about freely, protected from the explosions by magic. They form a large circle, several demons deep. Pinpointing the centre of that circle, I finally locate the mouth of the cave. Just a small hole in the ground. Doesn’t look like anything special. Not the sort of place where you expect the future of the planet to be decided.

The second helicopter moves up alongside us, then the third. The Disciples are on their feet or knees by the open sides of the copters, clinging to straps, ready to jump as soon as they’re within safe distance of the ground. The elderly woman with the cane is sitting, legs dangling over the side, stroking the blades sticking out of her mace.

Our pilot looks back at Shark for confirmation. The ex-soldier pauses and casts an unusually sad eye around, swallowing hard, looking doubtful for the first time. For a moment I think he’s lost his thirst for battle. Bernabus thinks it too and opens his mouth to yell an order at the pilot. Then Shark raises his head, grins grimly and nods savagely. The pilot speaks rapidly into his mouthpiece, issuing urgent orders. The sky clears of planes. Helicopters packed with ground troops cluster around us. I can see the faces of some of the soliders — underlying terror, overlaid by determination, much like the faces of those closer to me.

The rain of bombs lessens, then stops. Dust swirls below, momentarily masking the hordes of demons. Shark roars commandingly at the pilot.

We drop.

SPARTANS

→ The demons attack before we touch the ground, screaming hatefully, hurling themselves at us viciously. More pour out of the cave entrance, all manner of foul monsters, multilimbed, fangs the size of scythes, claws galore, spitting venom, breathing fire — the works!

The soldiers bear the brunt of the assault. They spill out of the helicopters and absorb the rush of demons, firing off round after round of bullets which they know will only delay the beasts, buying precious seconds for those of us in the three central helicopters, laying down their lives to help us.

As the bloodshed begins, Beranabus claps me hard on the back. Almost before I know what’s happening, I’m out of the helicopter and running, Beranabus slightly ahead of me, Kernel to my right, Shark and Sharmila flanking us. The other ten Disciples fan out. Everyone’s focused on protecting Beranabus, Kernel and me. Even Shark, who’d love to mindlessly lay into the demons, sticks close by, acting only when we come under direct threat.

For several seconds we glide through the ranks of Demonata as if they weren’t there. A few challenge us, but the Disciples brush them off without slowing, sending them tumbling out of our way, interested only in clearing a path to the cave. The demons are hell-bent on butchering the soldiers – easy targets for the magical monsters – delighted to have so many new victims drop in on them at once.

Then a familiar demon master rises into the air above the cave entrance. My hands clench into fists, nails breaking the flesh of my palms, and the hope that had been forming within me quickly dwindles away.

It’s Lord Loss.

“Demonata!” my old enemy cries, the word piercing my skull and those of everyone and everything around me. “Beware the Disciples! Block their path or we’ll be returned to our own universe!”

In an instant the battle changes. Every demon shrugs off the attentions of the soldiers and focuses on our small band. Impossible to tell how many there are… a couple of hundred or more. As if breathing in unison, they all snarl at once, then converge.

A wave of demons breaks over us sickeningly fast. One moment they’re metres away. The next we’re surrounded. Claws flash, jaws snap, at least a dozen demons to each of us. Three Disciples perish immediately, wrestled to the ground, ripped to pieces. The rest are stranded, cut off from one another, reduced to fighting isolated, individual battles.

Shark disappears beneath three lumpy monsters, then reappears a second later, throwing them off with a ball of magical energy, laughing manically.

Sharmila’s muttering spells frantically, gently touching the demons around her, setting them on fire.

The woman with the cane is using it like a gun, shooting bursts of magical bullets at the demons, crushing the heads of others with her mace.

Beranabus presses on, ignoring the carnage, intent on making it to the cave. Kernel runs behind him. So do I, legs working automatically, leaping over the struggling demons, Disciples and soldiers, panting hard. I want to flee. The coward inside me wails and pleads with me to retreat. But I think of Dervish and Bill-E, and cling to the belief that they’re alive, that I can save them. That gives me the strength to ignore the craven cries and follow Beranabus and Kernel.

A rabbit-shaped demon leaps up in front of Beranabus. I recognise it from the massacre on the plane. It’s Femur, one of Lord Loss’s familiars. It vomits acid at Beranabus’s face. But the magician is prepared and deflects the acid back at Femur. It drenches the demon and eats through its fur and skin. Femur screams and rolls away, tiny paws frantically trying to wipe the burning liquid away from its cheeks and eyes before its head melts down to the bone.

The hell-child known as Artery appears, grabs Beranabus’s left leg with his mouth-encrusted hands and bites hard. Beranabus grunts, then kicks Artery as if he was a football, sending him flying over the heads of several other demons.

Beranabus staggers on. The cave entrance is within sight. So is Lord Loss, still hovering in the air, all eight arms extended, smiling sorrowfully.

A tiger-headed demon latches on to my waist and whirls me around, fangs snapping in search of my throat. The magic within me instinctively sends a wave of electricity through the monster. It turns black, then collapses, synapses sizzling, eyes melting in its sockets.

“Nice work!” Shark yells, popping up beside me. He’s bleeding from several cuts and one of his ears has been bitten off. “Came to help, but it looks like you don’t need me.”

“Beranabus!” I shout at him. “You have to help Ber–”

Before I can finish, Shark’s gone, ripped away by a gaggle of demons who swarm over him, ant-like. I see a hand… his teeth as he bites… I hear a laugh… then he’s on the ground, covered completely, and I see nothing more of him.

I take a stunned step away from where Shark fell and look around, dazed, searching for Beranabus. He’s come to a standstill. A dozen or more demons stand between the magician and the hole. He fires magical bolts at them, but they take his best shots, barely blink, then return fire. There’s no way around. Soon they’ll wear him down and move in to finish him off.

Kernel slides to his master’s side and joins the fight. But just as he fires off a few pinkish bolts of his own, the scorpion demon from the plane – Spine – leaps on to his bald, brown head and aims its stinger at his right eye. With a pop the stinger goes in, then comes out wet and glistening. Shrieking with delight, the demon spits out a mouthful of eggs, filling Kernel’s pulpy socket.

Kernel screams with agony as the eggs hatch and maggoty insects gnaw at what’s left of his eye, before working their way through to his brain. He wheels away from Beranabus, losing all sense of direction. Spine strikes again and Kernel’s left eye pops too.

Something hits me hard in my upper back and I slam to the ground. Claws dig into my flesh. I’m momentarily stunned, unable to use my magic. I feel the end coming and a large part of me welcomes it — anything to break clear of this madness. But then the demon’s thrown from me by a blast of magical power. I sit up, groggy, expecting to find Sharmila or the lady with the cane. But neither woman is anywhere to be seen. I can only see demons and Beranabus struggling against them desperately, hopelessly. Then who…?

“Nobody touches the boy!” Lord Loss bellows, and I realise I’ve been rescued by the demon master. He catches my eye and his smile broadens. “I’m saving you for myself, Grubitsch. You escaped on the aeroplane, but you will not wriggle free again.”

The fighting clears around me, demons giving me a wide berth, turning aside to finish off the Disciples and the few remaining soldiers. The path to the hole clears — but it’s also the path to Lord Loss. For a long second I stare at the demon master, hovering, waiting. I want to run away. No point trying to push on — Lord Loss will kill me before I get anywhere near the cave. The wise thing would be to turn tail and –

“No!” I yell, deciding not to be a coward, to die with everyone else if that’s my destiny, to perish slowly and awfully at the hands of Lord Loss if that’s the cost of failure. But I’m not going to flee. I’m through running. It’s time to fight.

I lurch ahead, summoning all my reserves of energy, speaking quickly to the magic within me, saying I know I’ve let it down in the past and held it back, but promising it a free rein now. We’re in this together and I won’t stop until I’m dead or we’ve won. Will it help me?

The magic screams back its answer – Hell, yes! – and I feel power grow in the pit of my stomach, greater than any I’ve unleashed before. I don’t know if I’ll prove a match for Lord Loss and his companions, but right now I feel like I can’t be beaten, like I’m the most powerful player here.

“Beranabus!” I shout, almost at the hole, risking a look back. He’s surrounded by demons. Cursing, I aim a hand at them and let loose the magic. White flames leap from the tips of my fingers. They hit the demons hard and fire streaks through them like lightning. The demons shriek and peel aside, covered by flames they can’t quench, some coming apart at the seams and dying instantly.

“Balor’s eye!” Beranabus grunts, limping towards me, stooping to pick up the screaming and writhing Kernel, dragging him along. “I knew you were powerful, but not that powerful!”

“Oh, yes,” Lord Loss says overhead. “Grubitsch is a most remarkable boy. That is why I chose not to fight him in the cave when I first had the opportunity to kill him. I did not care to face him alone in a place of magic.”

“You were afraid!” I holler, reaching the mouth of the cave, sneering up at Lord Loss, feeling invincible. For the first time I believe we can do this — we can win!

“Afraid?” Lord Loss murmurs. “An ugly word, Grubitsch. And not entirely accurate. I was not afraid to fight you. I merely preferred to do so when the odds were stacked in my favour. After all, why fight by yourself when you can wait for…?” He smiles wickedly and gestures to the hole.

I look down and my sense of triumph fizzles out like a live match that’s been dunked in a bucket of water.

The tunnel leading down to the cave is full of demons. And I mean full. There are more of the creatures down there than up here. Thousands of evil eyes glint at me. An army of jaws open hungrily to reveal row after row of sharpened teeth. And in the claws of the beast closest to me — Dervish’s severed, lifeless, blood-rimmed head! Another demon holds the hacked-off head of Reni Gossel. Frank Martin. Charlie Rall. Meera Flame. All the people I cared about. Bill-E’s the only one missing — or maybe he’s further back, where I can’t see him.

“I made your friends and family my first priority,” Lord Loss says proudly as my world burns at the edges and madness swooshes down upon me. “I told you I would punish you for humiliating me. A dreadful, all-encompassing punishment. This is how I respond to mockery, Grubitsch. Look upon my work and know at last the true, heartless wrath of Lord Loss.”

“Grubbs!” Beranabus shouts. “They don’t matter! Ignore them! We–”

“Do not disturb the boy,” Lord Loss interrupts gloomily. “This is a time for true grief, not false promise and meaningless heroics. Look down, Beranabus. Even an eternal dreamer like you can’t believe in hope now. It’s over. The war has been decided. Mankind has fallen.”

“Grubbs! We can still…”

The rest of Beranabus’s words are lost to me. Lord Loss is right. We’re finished. There’s no way through. Everyone I knew — dead. Everyone I know who hasn’t already fallen to the Demonata — soon to be dead. And everybody else, the billions of men, women and children spread across the world, whom I’d never have known, even if I’d lived a thousand lifetimes — they’ll all die too.

I sink to my knees, the enormity of the moment overwhelming me. Beranabus grabs my right shoulder with one hand – still holding the wailing, thrashing Kernel with the other – and tries jerking me back to my feet. But I stay where I am, tears flowing, dread consuming me, hoping Lord Loss doesn’t drag the torment out too long, praying for him to take pity on me and kill me quickly.

I rock back and forth, moaning, glancing around, seeing demons in the throes of celebration, corpses of soldiers and Disciples being passed around like canapés at a party. Their howls, grunts and chattering start to sound like music to my ears or the chanting of a long, complicated spell. Then I realise — the sound isn’t of demonic origin. It’s coming from somewhere else… from the rocks beneath me.

I look down, expecting some new torment of Lord Loss’s. Instead I find the face of the girl – Bec – bulging out of the rock, eyes open, lips moving swiftly. Beranabus sees it too. His fingers go limp on my shoulder as he stares at the face, lost for words, forgetting all about the demons and our foolish quest.

“What’s this?” Lord Loss frowns. “Little Bec, present and alert after all these centuries? Impossible. How can her soul have…?” He smiles. “No matter. She is powerful, Beranabus, even more than you or Grubitsch. But she cannot save you. Trapped in the rocks, she can only mourn your sad passing.”

The girl speaks quicker than ever, her lips a blur. I feel the magic inside me pulse in time with her chanting. I can’t understand her, but the magic does and it swirls around inside me, excited, trying to reach out to her. Since I’ve nothing to lose, I let it have its way. I step back mentally and let the magic and the girl communicate freely. As the pair link in some unknowable way, I feel my own lips moving, the girl’s words becoming mine, like when I was relaying her previous outburst to Beranabus in his cave.

“Come now,” Lord Loss says, descending gracefully, signalling to the demons around us. “Enough of this childishness. Surrender, Grubitsch, and I will go easy on you. Well… easier than I planned to.”

“We’ll never surrender!” Beranabus roars, coming alive again, releasing me and Kernel, bringing up his hands to engage the demon master in battle.

“Take him,” Lord Loss says, yawning mockingly. The nearest demons howl and hurl themselves at the magician — then strike against an invisible boundary and bounce back off it.

“Impressive,” Lord Loss murmurs. “But how long do you think you can sustain such a barrier, old man?”

“This isn’t my work,” Beranabus says, staring at me uncertainly. The girl’s hands have formed now and stick stiffly out of the ground, grey and rocky. I take them, my fingers large and chunky in comparison to hers. We continue to babble, her, me and the magic.

Kernel screams as maggots chew their way deeper into his brain. He jerks aside wildly and the demons eagerly grab for him, but he rebounds against the barrier and is hurled to the ground, landing by my knees. Beranabus stoops and puts his fingers to the boy’s forehead. Magic flares. Maggots fall out of Kernel’s bleeding sockets and shrivel, dead before they hit the ground. Kernel moans and slumps unconscious.

Beranabus faces me, features alive with hope. “Let’s go!” He grasps my elbow. “If you can maintain this barrier, they can’t stop us getting into the cave. We–”

My head whips towards him and the girl barks something, using my lips. I don’t know what she says, but it brings a groan of desperation from Beranabus. “No! You can’t tell me that. Not now. Not after all this. Not when we’re so close.”

I’ve no time to ponder his words. My eyes refocus on the girl’s and lock on her peculiar stony pupils. We’re speaking faster, louder, a fierce magical energy building around us, causing all the hairs on my body to stand up, then burn down to their roots. My clothes also burn away. So do Beranabus’s and Kernel’s. Within seconds we’re naked and hairless, and still the energy builds.