Now everyone did fall silent. A few children inched closer to their parents. Grant felt no sympathy for any of them. They spared not a thought for Cassie, but feared only for themselves.
Cliff Stallard stepped forward, holding a watch high above his head. “Conjunction!”
“At last!” The reverend drew a large, shining knife from his belt and retrieved the tan leather book so familiar to Grant. He held the book open in one hand, his blade in the other.
Grant almost stood from cover, his mind a whirl of indecision. He'd have to kill the pastor first, then figure it out from there.
Wait, son. Something, somewhere, seemed to speak to him, a voice distant and ethereal. It is the demon we must fight, not the people.
We? Grant thought, and he knew Josiah Brunswick was with him. In some manner, the spirit of the old warlock hovered nearby.
Aye, lad, we. When Kaletherex is near, so am I.
Edwin Stallard stood behind Cassie's head, the knife raised high. Somewhere in the depths of the cavern a deep, a sonorous drum beat began, echoing back and forth around the huge space. Every person gathered fell to their knees and began to chant, a rhythmic, repetitive sequence of ugly words. Cassie screamed, and Stallard spoke strange and broken phrases as he read from the book. He drew his knife slowly along her body, raising a line of blood from her navel up between her breasts.
As Cassie's screams rose, the drum beat louder, the people chanted more fervently and a scouring heat swept through the cavern. The air some five yards from Cassie's feet shimmered and flexed, colors danced across each other like sunlight refracted through a lens and a stench of sulphur filled the air. With a crack like lightning and a shock wave pulse of searing wind, something huge, black and terrible stepped into the world.
Chapter 22
Even crouched on the cave floor, the demon Kaletherex stood taller than any man, and was a mass of corded muscle pressed through tight black skin stretched like a dark membrane across its imposing bulk. Its face was bull-like, with a wide, smoking mouth bristling with huge black fangs. Shining obsidian horns curved up from its head, their razor points almost meeting. Long claws glistened from every fingertip and cut into the cavern floor from every toe. The demon threw its head back and cried out to the heavens, the sound reverberating off the cavern walls and drilling through to Grant's terrified soul. It stretched its arms wide and roared again.
The pounding drum redoubled its beat, the chanting rose in pace in and volume, the voices a cacophony of stuttering rhythm. Mesmerized in the ritual, no one appeared frightened.
A man ran forward and prostrated himself at the demon's feet. His wife, eyes wide, grabbed at him, tried to pull him away. Hunger burned in the onlookers’ eyes, their faces gleeful, as the creature lifted the man from the floor. He gibbered, frothing at the mouth in his insane zealotry as Kaletherex slid its claws into his gut, twisted slowly, and drew forth a rope of steaming entrails. His shrieks cut off as Kaletherex bit into his throat. The man's wife screamed as the demon ripped her husband to pieces and swallowed large chunks of the man whole. Suddenly aware of her, the demon clubbed her with her husband's leg, slamming her to the cave floor. She hit the ground, twitched once and lay still.
Graham Brunswick and Edwin Stallard stepped away from Cassie as she screamed and thrashed against the chains that bound her. Kaletherex turned toward her and stepped forward. The lamplight seemed to dim as the demon rose to its full height.
Grant, fighting against nausea from disgust and fear, forced his muscles to work. His heart pounding, blood pulsing in his temples, his stomach an icy mass of terror, he stood and yelled out, “Leave her alone!”
The chanting faltered and eyes turned to see Grant. He stood on the rock he had hidden behind and raised his arms. From somewhere deep within, his voice rose, empowered by the presence in his mind. “I'm here to face you, Kaletherex!”
“It's Shipman!” Reverend Stallard called. “Shoot him!”
A few weapons swung in Grant's direction, but most were transfixed by Kaletherex and seemed aware of nothing else. Grant felt incredibly vulnerable standing so tall and, rather than face the instant death of dozens of bullet wounds, he leapt from the rock and ran for Kaletherex. He emptied the stolen revolver as he ran, unsure if he hit anything as people dove for cover.
Gasps and shouts resounded around the cavern. The demon crouched and roared again, its voice turning Grant's stomach to water, his legs to tissue. He stared into two fiery red, bottomless eyes and his courage deserted him. He saw hell and eternity in those flaming orbs and knew himself to be irrelevant. The gun dropped from his weak fingers.
A shot rang out and Grant winced, but from the corner of his eye he saw Edwin Stallard stagger back, clutching at his chest.
“You crazy ass people done gone too far!” The voice rang out from the tunnel leading to the cavern. Amos! Where had he gotten a rifle? Amos's face was bloody and bruised, his wounded arm scarlet through the dressings, but he was here and fighting.
Grant found strength in the man's devotion and resourcefulness, and leapt to the side just as Kaletherex closed the gap between them and swiped at him with one huge, taloned hand. The pastor's death seemed to break the spell over the crowd, and confusion and panic swept the room. A press of bodies surged between Grant and the demon as people raced in every direction at once.
“Kill them both!” Graham Brunswick screamed over the tumult.
Amos's son, Elijah, armed with a rifle, stood guard near Cassie. As Graham Brunswick raised a pistol to shoot Amos, Elijah yelled out in alarm. “No!” He swung his weapon up and fired at point blank range into Brunswick's chest. The slug tore through Brunswick in a burst of blood and bone, sent him flying backward.
Amos fired again and again, aiming for anyone who held a weapon, and picking off several, as he ran along one edge of the cavern. People screamed and fought, some trying to get away, others trying to take down Elijah or Amos. A scattering of shots rang out as some of the cultists finally managed to fight back, but the chaos prevented them from getting off good shots. Most went wild, ricocheting off the cavern walls, while others took down fleeing townspeople. It was utter madness and, over it all, the demon Kaletherex roared with something like glee. The creature swept a knot of townspeople aside and came at Grant again.
Grant ducked and rolled, the enchanted bowie knife in his hand. As he came up onto his knees he slashed at the demon, missed, and rolled away again. In his peripheral vision he saw one of the Stallard boys take aim at him and, the next instant, a bullet zipped past his nose, cracking into the rock plinth behind him. Fighting a demon while being shot at? No way.
The last remaining cult members were now firing with impunity, and the repeated gunshots made a deafening counterpoint to Kaletherex's roars as they echoed around the cave. Grant spotted Elijah roll to one side and come up behind the plinth. He aimed his rifle over Cassie's thrashing, screaming form and fired a well-aimed shot across the cavern.
Grant never saw if Elijah hit his target. Too late, Grant realized he had been distracted and Kaletherex struck out. One massive, burning hot black arm collected him across his chest and lifted him high, sent him flying backwards through the air. As he flew, he swept the knife around and felt it bite into the flesh of the demon's arm.