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Juan and Taz were both screaming, and I was surprised to find myself screaming, too, as I burst out the door behind them. The rain lashed at my face. The bonfire had turned night into day, and the flickering flames cast weird shadows around us.

About three dozen Satanists were gathered on the roof. None of them had weapons, except for the ones guarding the prisoners and a guy who must have been the leader or high priest. He clutched a long, curved dagger and held an old, leather-bound book in his other hand. The only part I could make out was the title, illuminated in the flashes of light from Juan’s M-16. It was in Latin or something—Daemonolateria. The leader recited from it, shouting over the roar of the machine guns, seemingly oblivious to the hail of lead around him.

“Ia verminus Leviathan! Ia destrato Leviathan! Leviathan!”

Christian and Louis were lying at the far edge of the roof, still chained to the cinder blocks. The woman and her baby cowered next to them. The two cultists standing guard over them ducked behind an air-conditioning vent for cover and returned fire. Juan unleashed a barrage in their direction. As Ducky opened fire next to me, I watched in horror as one of the men darted forward, picked up the baby and flung it into the water without hesitation. There was a splash and the mother shrieked.

“Oh my God—” My mouth went dry.

“God does not live here,” a voice hissed into my ear. Something heavy slammed into my back and I fell to the roof. Rolling, I managed to get a knee up just as the attacker leapt for me. My knee sank into his abdomen, and the air whooshed out of his lungs. His sour breath reeked, and I turned my head to cough. He punched me in the face and my teeth rattled. Blood filled my mouth, warm and salty. My stomach churned, and I felt nauseous. His weight crushed me.

“You have interrupted the ceremony,” he growled. “Leviathan will not be pleased. He’s waiting to meet you, under the sea. I will take you to him, after I wring your scrawny neck!”

His meaty hands closed around my throat. I swung the pistol, knocking him in the temple with the butt, and he rolled off of me, groaning as the blood began to flow from his scalp. Several more Satanists closed in on my position. A second later, something that sounded like a swarm of angry bees ripped through the air, dropping them where they stood. Gunfire.

“Go,” Juan shouted at me. “Get them untied, and hurry!”

Ducky was already halfway across the roof. The Satanist who had thrown the baby into the water picked up the cinder block attached to the screaming mother and tossed it over the side as well. She had time to let out one terrified shriek as the chain trailed along behind it and then she was gone, jerked over the side.

“Motherfucker!” Ducky aimed, fired, and the man’s kneecap disintegrated. He fired again, and kept firing, finally severing both of the man’s legs. Then Ducky rushed forward, pointing the smoking gun at the other guard. The second man scurried away in fear, then grabbed Louis and used him as a human shield.

“Don’t come any closer! Shoot me and you shoot him too!”

“Shit…” Ducky froze.

Louis met our eyes and then suddenly rammed his head backward, smashing into his captor’s nose. Blood gushed down the Satanist’s face and chest. Louis wrenched away and fell forward onto his stomach.

He looked up at Ducky. “Shoot him!”

Ducky did. His gun sang out and the Satanist toppled over the side of the building, his hands clawing at the edge for purchase. His fingers closed around Louis’s ankle, and Louis began to slide with him. I ran forward, but both men went into the water before I could reach them. I saw Louis’s head disappear beneath the waves.

“Get Christian untied,” I yelled to Ducky, and then I tossed my gun aside and jumped in after them.

The surface of the ocean was hard and sharp. It felt like I’d dived into a sheet of ice. My skin stung as the cold water closed over me. It was dark at first, but then I noticed a strange, green glow coming from the depths below me. It was bright enough that I could make out Louis, sinking like a stone. There was no sign of the woman or her baby. Kicking with all of my strength, I swam after Louis. His terrified eyes pleaded with me. It sounds impossible. There’s no way I could have seen it underwater, and yet, I did. The green light illuminated everything. Louis opened his mouth to scream and black water rushed in. I reached out my hand—and that was when it happened.

Something long and thick uncoiled from the center of the green light, spiraled towards us, and wrapped itself around Louis’s feet. A tentacle. It flexed and then he was gone, pulled into the light.

He vanished inside the glow, and the last thing I saw were his eyes, wide and terrified and still very much alive. I think that image will stay with me till the day I die.

Another tentacle rose toward me and dozens more followed in its wake. Frantic, I kicked for the surface. One of the tendrils brushed against my foot and I opened my mouth to scream, forgetting that I was underwater. Frigid salt water rushed into my lungs. The tentacle caressed my ankle. I lashed out with my foot, knocking it away.

My head broke the surface. Gagging, I clutched a drainpipe and hauled myself upward. The metal surface was slick, and I started to slide back down toward the water. Something splashed below me and I struggled back up again, afraid to look behind. Finally, I rolled onto the roof and coughed up water. I shrank away from the edge, watching for more of the tentacles, and retrieved my Sig, remembering that I still only had two shots left in it.

It took me a few seconds to realize that the shooting was over. Black robed bodies littered the roof, their blood already being washed away by the rain. Ducky had untied Christian and was checking him for injuries, while Taz kept guard at the stairway door. Juan stood over the cult leader’s supine form. The dagger and the leather spell book lay next to him. The book was open in the middle, the pages drenched, red ink running and blurring together. Juan pressed the smoking barrel of the M-16 against the Satanist’s heaving chest.

“You-you don’t know what you’ve done,” the leader squealed. “The Rain Gods will be angered now. You have deprived them of their bounty. They will destroy us all in retaliation! We summoned them—brought them all back with the rains.”

“Rain Gods,” Juan snorted. “You mean like the fucking mermaid we killed earlier?”

The man’s eyes grew alarmed. “You killed the siren? You fool! Don’t you realize the consequences?”

Juan spat in his face. “She killed one of our people.”

The leader snarled as Juan’s spittle ran down his face. “Leviathan is coming now! He wants revenge. You have killed his beloved and halted his sacrifices. You will pay dearly for these transgressions. Leviathan is slow to rise, but when he does, you shall know his anger. It is written in the Daemonolateria. Leviathan is coming. He of a thousand tentacles!”

The wounded man began to laugh and turned his face toward the sea. Blood poured from his mouth and nose.

“You worship this thing?” Juan asked. “This Leviathan?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s coming here?”

“Oh yes. Very soon.”

“Well then, I guess you won’t be around to meet him.”

With the barrel still pressed against the leader’s chest, Juan squeezed the trigger.

I flinched and looked away. When I turned back to them, Juan had rolled the corpse over with his foot. The man’s back was a gaping ruin.

Juan ejected his magazine and slid a fresh one into place. “How’s it look, Taz?”