They exited the main doors without incident. There were many mounds of ash nearby and Sam silently thanked Yeth. His Hellhound must have taken care of these demons waiting in ambush.
Sam moved as swiftly as he could, assisting where he could to hurry the weakest along. Behind them, the warehouse, what had once been a place devoted to the worship of his father, blazed like a beacon in the night sky. Yeth might have taken care of a few demons but others would come.
He followed a trail that he’d plotted out earlier, one that involved the least amount of exposure. He looked up, always conscious of the threat of flying demons. The sky was lightening in the east, filling Sam with relief. Dawn was on its way.
He’d timed this carefully, making some rather rough assumptions about how long he’d need in the warehouse. He’d got it almost right. Disappearing through the desecrated churches that acted as their gateways, Demons went back to Hell during the day. Just in time for Sam and the other survivors to make their escape. It would’ve been easier in the day for him to attack the warehouse, but Sam himself was weaker during the day, and if he’d been a bit slower, a bit weaker… he hated to think.
He led them down an alleyway. A few more turns and they’d be back at the clothing store where his own pack awaited him. It was a good place to rest too. Safe. Or as safe as safe could be these days. Even though he could sense that some demons were already returning to Hell, others were still lurking. Hunting them. He just had to hold out for a few more minutes.
Sam got to the end of the alley and turned to make sure the others were behind him. It almost got him killed. Distracted, Sam had failed to properly notice the dark shadow above him. As he exited the alley and turned, the shadow plummeted directly for him, four darker lines of black extended in front of it. At the last second, Sam sensed its approach and knew he’d made a mistake. This one was finally going to kill him. He brought his swords out in a blur but knew it was probably pointless. A two thousand pound Astaroth descending like this with all its weapons beaded on Sam was way too much inertia to cope with. He couldn’t block that. There was no way Sam could retreat either, not with the other survivors blocking his way. He set his teeth and locked his swords out in front of him. For the second time that night, he resigned himself to go down fighting.
Once again, he was destined to be disappointed. The Astaroth was almost upon him when the roar of nearby guns almost deafened him. Four rifles, three shotguns and a pistol opened up, more or less at the same time. Directly at the Astaroth. It didn’t even have time to vent its rage. One second it was a massive shadow hurtling down at Sam, the next, he was being showered by the creature’s remains as they fluttered down upon him.
He turned and made eye contact with the survivors, especially the eight holding smoking weapons. He nodded his thanks. Words were unnecessary. They were even now. Perhaps he’d misjudged these people’s will to live after all.
He looked up in the sky again. Dawn had come and with it the dull gray light which was what approximated daylight these days. The sun hadn’t been seen on Earth for three and a half years now, hidden as it was behind the thick angry blanket of cloud that was a constant during daylight hours.
More importantly, it marked an important change. The demons were gone. They’d made it.
He led the survivors back to the clothing store. They were safe. For one more day at any rate.
Chapter Ten
“ If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!”
He let the survivors sleep for a few hours. They obviously needed it and most, including Olivia, appeared to be suffering physically and mentally from their ordeal. Understandably. Sam himself didn’t rest. He didn’t feel the need and besides, he was too worked up after their successful escape to rest. Instead, he paced around for a bit, restless, unable to stand still for a second. Like a cat on a hot tin roof. Sam smiled to himself. That had been one of Hikari’s expressions. For a moment, the thought of the diminutive Japanese man uttering those words made Sam feel inexplicably happy.
The moment passed. Sam’s mind returned to more pressing matters. Like getting these survivors to safety. And safety, unfortunately, was over fifty miles away In Columbus. The Ohio Army National guard station there was the only military base that Sam had found still operational. How they had survived, Sam didn’t know, but the fact that they had gave him hope. Where one could survive, others could too.
Sam wasn’t completely unprepared. He’d planned for this eventuality, hoping that his goal to free these survivors would be successful. It was a rough plan though and not something that would withstand a great deal of unanticipated problems. If something went wrong, he really didn’t have a backup. Much like his assault on the demon worshippers. But this time, he wouldn’t have Yeth to help him.
Eager to do something other than pace, Sam started to prepare food. It was almost midday. He’d have to wake the others shortly and no doubt they would be hungry.
He swept the ash off the main counter and set up his camping stove. The gas canister was, thankfully, full. Sam had found a ransacked camping store a few days earlier. While mostly cleaned out of useful items, it was well stocked with portable cookers and gas.
The can opener on his Swiss Army knife came in useful as always. Sam enjoyed using it, not having to concern himself with touching the metal. Unlike iron, the steel knife had no harmful effect on him. He selected a few tins from the bags and poured them into a large pot he’d found at a hardware store. It had been filthy, covered in ash but Sam had done his best to clean it. A difficult task without water but he really didn’t think the others would care.
The tins contained a mixture of beans and spaghetti. There was even a tin of meatballs which was a rare treat. The demon worshippers had been well stocked — unsurprisingly, given that they would’ve taken the food of all those they preyed upon.
The delicious smell of hot food wafted throughout the store, almost overpowering the lingering stench of sulfur. One by one, the survivors, roused by the smell of probably the first hot meal they’d had in ages, shuffled over to the counter. Sam handed each one a disposable plastic plate and a spoon and ladled out a generous helping to each one.
Sam watched each one with interest, though careful not to make eye contact. Even in the dim light, his distinctive black irises could possibly give the game away. In order to get these people to safety, he needed them to trust him. If they got one whiff of his true nature, then that trust could disintegrate more quickly than a demon turning to ash.
His earlier assessment had been roughly accurate. There were twelve of them all told, ranging in age from probably sixteen up to mid-twenties. Eight of them were female. One of the men and three women were African-American. Two women were of Asian descent and one of the men looked Hispanic although Sam couldn’t be sure. His experience in these matters was fairly limited. All were thin, emaciated; a pretty sorry looking bunch.
As they collected their food, each found a spot and sat down to eat. None of them made an effort to communicate or interact with the others. Sam couldn’t blame them. Chances were they’d been cooped up the others for days, if not weeks. They were probably heartily sick of the sight of one another. Some of them did thank him for the food, however, their faces struggling to make smiles, long unaccustomed to such expressions.
Olivia was last. Sam thought this was deliberate. She was somewhat stronger looking than the others and allowed them to go before her. She paused and looked at Sam after he’d filled her plate.