Sam noticed that blood was still slowly trickling out of the wound on Josh’s scalp. “Let me dress that for you.”
Joshua shook Sam’s hands off him. “Leave me alone.”
Sam sat back in surprise. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Why did you have to do it?” Joshua stared at him angrily.
“Do what?” Sam asked in confusion.
“Bring us here.”
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. He glanced over at Grace but she appeared to be sleeping. “I had to save her,” he said.
“But at what cost?” exclaimed Joshua, making an effort to lower his voice. “Look where we are. How are we supposed to get out of here now?”
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “But I couldn’t leave her. I’ve done that before and regretted it ever since. You would’ve done the same.”
Joshua shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. I never wanted to see this place.”
Sam was thoroughly confused by Joshua’s strange behaviour. Although the boy lacked belief and that had condemned him to remain on earth during the Tribulation, he knew that Joshua had a good heart. Joshua would’ve done the same thing in his position, wouldn’t he? Perhaps he had misjudged Joshua. The thought left him feeling uneasy.
“I’m sorry for bringing you here but it was an accident. I’ll think of something. I’ll get us out of here,” he said, not believing a word.
In reality, he had very little idea what they were going to do. He’d acted instinctively to save Grace without considering the consequences. That was probably why Joshua resented him. Now he, along with Sam and Grace were stranded in Hell.
“What are you going to do?” asked Joshua.
For a moment, Sam played with a thought that had been teasing him since they arrived. “I felt something when the Lemure brought us here. I could almost understand what they were doing and how to do it. I’m half demon, right?” Joshua nodded. “Well, it appears that all demons can travel from Hell to Earth, as long as you travel to a desecrated church. All I have to do is figure out how to do it. If something as stupid as a Lemure can do it, then surely I can.”
Joshua nodded, some hope returning to his face. “That’s true,” he said cautiously.
Sam smiled at him. “Now, let me dress that wound. I’m sure Hell isn’t the most hygienic place. We don’t want it getting infected. While I’m at it, I should look at the wound in your arm.”The bandage-wrapped wrist wound that Joshua had sustained during their overland journey from Bryce Valley City was clearly visible through the thin guard’s shirt.
Joshua rubbed at the wound self-consciously. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll take the bandage off in a couple of days.”
Sam shrugged. “As you wish.”
He spent the next few minutes tightly wrapping the injury to Josh’s head, sustained during their forced entry into the church. It didn’t appear serious but Sam didn’t want to take any risks. He’d believed what he’d said about Hell not being hygienic. Although Sam’s own body appeared to thrive in such conditions, he doubted the abilities of Joshua or Grace to do the same. Surely, prolonged exposure to this place could not be good for them. The sooner they got out of here, the better. Sam just had to figure out how.
Much later, Sam helped both teenagers out of the small cave. He had no idea how long they had spent resting, given that Hell did not seem to have any discernable night or day, but it must have been several hours at least.
Sam resisted the impulse to stay put. Grace and Joshua were both more comfortable in the cave, but he knew it was only a matter of time until a demon stumbled upon them. Their only hope was to keep moving.
Grace was able to walk — just — but he had to assist her. Joshua stumbled slowly along behind him. Above the rock walls of the passage was open air and, much further in the distance, the ceiling that presumably marked the upper boundary of Hell. Sam darted frequent nervous glances in that direction. If they were going to be discovered, then it would be from there. Sam had already seen a few Astaroth and glimpses of other winged demons he didn’t recognise pass directly above them.
The passage they were following suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Before them was a precipice. Sam peered over the ledge and quickly jerked his head back in shock, reeling with vertigo. Cautiously, he crouched down and stared down over the lip again.
He was staggered by what he saw. The precipice dropped several hundred feet to the floor of a monstrous canyon, several miles in length and at least a couple wide. Fires burned almost everywhere, thick with the smell of sulphur. There were small islands of rock, free from the fires, and this was where the humans clustered. They were packed in so tightly they could hardly move. Even as he watched, Sam saw a number of tiny bodies topple into the fires, their screams drifting up to him in wafts of hot air. Massive demons, wreathed in living flames, simply picked up the burning humans and set them back on the rock. On other islands, he could see demons moving amongst the humans, beating them with whips and flails. Some people were confined to torture racks that seemed to be composed of bones and skulls.
This was the Hell of his nightmares. This was the Hell that he’d read about in the Bible — and this canyon was just one tiny part of it. He was suddenly torn by two emotions; the first to help those poor people suffering in the depths and the second, to flee and never look back.
Paths cut into the walls of the canyon weaved their way down to the bottom. Sam could see lines of Lemure leading struggling humans down these paths. He knew that some of these humans undoubtedly deserved to be here — rapists, murderers and others who had committed crimes of a similar ilk — but others…. many others … did not. He could save some of them but to what end? There was no way he could battle the legions of Hell singlehandedly. Even without weapons, demons were the only creatures capable of injuring or killing him. And even if he could defeat every single demon in Hell, even if he saved the innocents, what then? They had no means of escape. They were still trapped here just like he was.
His frustration and wrath was making his body shake. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joshua and Grace move to his side, their faces reflecting the same emotion he felt. He stood and moved back from the edge, drawing his companions back with him, having no wish to join the humans at the bottom of the pit. Even he would struggle to survive that fall.
“Not very pleasant, is it?” said a voice behind them.
Sam whirled, his swords already out. Before him, sitting casually on a rocky ledge, was a winged being. The creature, bare to the waist and dressed in leather trousers, was picking at one of his fingers. He looked up, flashing teeth at least as perfect as Jonah’s, his impossibly handsome face breaking into a broad smile.
“Who are you?” demanded Sam.
The demon — if that was he was — leapt off the ten-foot ledge and landed smoothly on his feet. “Samyaza, at your service,” said the creature, bowing slightly at the waist. The movement seemed to focus attention on the glossy black wings that arched above his back.
“Stay right where you are,” said Sam, keeping his swords levelled directly at the creature.
“Of course,” he said, spreading his hands wide in acceptance.
“What are you exactly?”Sam squinted at him. “You’re not like any demon I’ve seen before.”
“That’s because I’m not. I’m a Watcher — a Grigori in the old tongue.” He nodded at Sam. “I see now that you’ve heard of my kind.”
Indeed Sam had. The Watchers were a group of Angels who had been sent to Earth to watch over humans. Filled with lust and in defiance of God’s decree, they had mated with human women, creating a half-breed race known as the Nephilim. Sam had often thought of the Nephilim as a kind of cousin and had longed to meet one. Unfortunately, he wasn’t even sure if any existed anymore. God had supposedly wiped them out during the same flood that had destroyed most of the human race, save for Noah and his followers.