To her right, she saw Drew ramming a shiv into a beast’s bony, wart-covered neck.
He paused only long enough to scream: “Keep fighting! We will win against them!”
Slaves gave frenzied war cries.
Pulling her knife from the groin of a staggering creature, Kirby plunged it in higher, turning a slow, fatal wound into instant death. Beasts and slaves fell around her as she fought to the place where her friend had disappeared. Four mutants hovered on the ground, feasting over a bloodied corpse. Kirby cried out in anger, ripping the first off, stabbing it in the back. Entrails dripped from its cracked teeth. She lunged for the other, pulling it off as she fought to preserve the last bit of Bray’s dignity. Stabbing the demon in the head, she toppled it over. She killed the other two with jabs from her knife. With the demons gone, she stared into the face of a blonde-haired man, his mouth hung open in a last expression of death.
Not Bray.
Confusion hit her for a moment, until she realized Bray lay underneath. The man must’ve died and fallen on top of him.
Or perhaps Bray had crawled under.
Kirby managed to pull the man’s body sideways and off. Blood covered Bray’s abdomen. His hair stuck in all directions.
Surprise hit Kirby as his eyes rolled from the sky to her face.
“Am I alive?” he asked.
Kirby couldn’t hide her shock. “You’re alive,” she repeated, glancing around her as mutants and people fought.
“Where’s William?” he asked, through the obvious pain on his face.
“Rudyard has him.” Kirby glanced around, as if the boy might reappear, even though she’d seen Rudyard dragging him through the gate and closing it. She couldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t even allow herself any relief. Swallowing a breath, she told Bray, “You need to get to the houses, before another demon finishes what Rudyard started.”
“The demons are still alive,” Bray said adamantly.
“That doesn’t matter. You will die, if you don’t get out of here,” Kirby warned.
“Help me up.”
Bray’s groan turned into a grunt as she helped him to his feet. All around, demons and men clashed. Grabbing hold of Bray’s shoulder, she steadied him. He found his balance, sweat running down his face.
“You need to get to the houses,” she repeated. “Let’s go.”
“My sword,” he said, with a stubborn expression she’d seen too many times.
“Forget the sword,” Kirby said vehemently.
“We’ll never kill them, without all of us to fight,” Bray insisted, scanning the ground until he found the weapon a few feet away.
He made a move for it, until the pain in his abdomen forced him to stop. Helping him, Kirby bent to retrieve it for him, putting it into his bloodied hand.
“Thanks,” he said, with the same smile he’d given her that first day in the forest, and all the days since. Bray’s face hardened into a determination she knew almost as well as his smile. They both knew he wasn’t leaving the battlefield. Bray watched her as he raised his sword, and some demons snarled behind them. He took another step, finding his balance.
With a grim smile, he said, “We can’t leave, until these filthy pig scratchers are dead.”
Kirby nodded.
Together, they turned against the advancing mutants.
Chapter 73: William
Rudyard choked William, pressing Amelia’s heavy pistol against his skull as he pulled him back toward the building. William knew how this worked. One small squeeze from that Tech Magic gun would turn his body into a useless lump of flesh. He would fall and never get up. He would see, once and for all, if the gods accepted a frightened, infected boy. Perhaps the afterworld was a wave of endless torment, too.
He couldn’t imagine a life without Bray.
William had lost one of his only friends in the world.
He had seen that final look in Bray’s eyes as he made a frantic lunge toward the gate. He was coming for me, he thought. None of that matters anymore. Rudyard will kill me, like he already killed Bray.
“Come on,” Rudyard growled, squeezing William tighter.
William couldn’t answer. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he wriggled unsuccessfully.
“Dead boys don’t need legs,” Rudyard said. “I can shoot off a foot and drag you. Don’t make me waste a bullet.”
Fear made William cooperate as Rudyard pulled him through the entrance of the shimmering building. On the other side of the doorway, Rudyard let William go, pointing the pistol at the side of his head as he locked the door.
“Don’t move,” he said menacingly, as he kept an eye on William.
Rudyard’s threat was meaningless. He was going to shoot him anyway. William’s eyes roamed the room. For a moment, he considered fleeing and trying to get through one of the other closed doors, but the gun would punch a hole in him before he got far. His eyes were bleary from the beating Rudyard had given him. His legs were wobbly.
The sounds of the battlefield were loud enough that he still heard wailing and death cries through the walls. For all William knew, Kirby had died, too, and he had lost two friends in the span of moments.
Rudyard gestured toward the door leading to the stairwell.
He stuck the gun at William’s back, forced him to open the door, and prompted him up the first flight of stairs.
William’s hatred ran strong. He wished he could’ve watched Rudyard torn apart and screaming, the way the other robed men and woman had met their demise. Every one of them deserved it, for the pain and suffering they had caused. But Rudyard deserved it more than the others, for what he’d done to Bray.
If only he had been at that table with the others…
Rudyard’s heavy gun kept him moving. They passed a floor before stopping on the third level. Rudyard ushered William through the open door, into the room in which he had spent too many of his nights sneaking around and plotting.
The demons had overturned the drafting table, scattering the plans of the plane that would never exist. Now they were in the city, feasting on the slaves.
William didn’t even need Rudyard to speak the words to know where he was dragging him. He had heard what he said in the courtyard.
He’s bringing me to the balcony, so I can watch.
Chapter 74: Kirby
With a ferocious cry, Kirby slammed her knife into a mutant’s jaw, watching the stinking beast fall backward. For every mutant she killed, it felt as if two more appeared.
The demons fought with a recklessness the people hadn’t seen in the guards. They flailed and squirmed, driven by their single-minded purpose. They valued their lives less than the people they attacked, or at least it seemed that way, as they flung themselves at their prey.
The men and women with the tenacity to keep battling were rewarded with more confidence. Each demon they slayed pushed them on to the next. The wounded stuck in groups where they could defend themselves more easily. A few of the severely injured limped off, huddling in the first houses on the edge of the courtyard, where they could recover.
More than half of the ugly demons were dead. But too many people had turned into meals.
Next to Kirby, Bray roared with anger as he slayed a demon.
It seemed as if Bray had received a second wind. Kirby had seen a few miraculous recoveries by soldiers in battle—men and women in the arena who had been counted dead. There was no question Bray needed a healer. But she held out hope that he would recover.
A scream drew their attention to a frightened, weaponless man, encircled by three demons.
“Over there!” Bray cried, pointing his sword.
They raced toward the overwhelmed man. Kirby stabbed one of the demons, severing its spine. Bray thrust his sword in a mutant’s shoulder, pulling it out and goring the third in the chest. They finished the staggering demons with killing blows while the grateful man darted off to find another weapon.
They had only taken a step when four more
demons raced toward them. A shiv hung from the socket of one mutant’s protuberant eye. Another had deep slashes on its arm. Behind them, Kirby saw the remains of a bloody gorging.
Anger drove her as she stuck her long knife in the face of the eye-demon, halting its progress for good. Pulling her knife out, she cut open another demon’s bowels, sending it reeling. Bray lopped off a third’s head with a heavy swing of his sword, while she finished the fourth. A feral cry made her spin.
“Bray, watch out!” she yelled, as another mutant latched onto his back and sank its nasty teeth between his neck and shoulder.
Bray cursed loudly and spun, sending the mutant flailing. It landed hard on its back. He stood over it, thrust his blade between its eyes, and twisted.
“Filthy beasts,” he spat, removing the blade with a sickening squelch.
With a moment to breathe, he clamped a palm on his fresh wound.
A splotch of blood soaked his shirt. It looked as if the creature had torn off a good chunk of his skin. But Kirby was more worried about the bullet wound to his gut, which seemed to worsen with every step he took.
Before Kirby could ask Bray a question, he said, “I’m fine.”
Loud shrieks drew their attention toward the northern wall of the courtyard.
About fifty feet west of the gate, a horde of monsters converged on a group of yelling slaves, pinning them against a wall. Kirby tensed as she saw what must be forty monsters. A few of the slaves seemed as if they had lost their weapons. More than one fought with their hands as they struggled to keep the beasts away.
“Clara and Giovanni!” she shouted to Bray, as she recognized a few of the punching, shouting revolters. “We need to help them!”
With fierce battle cries, Bray and Kirby leapt into the fray.
Chapter 75: William
Rudyard booted William across the balcony with a vicious kick to his back. William flew forward, catching himself on the railing before he fell. Thirty feet below, a fierce battle waged in the courtyard.
What looked like a few hundred slaves and mutants remained in various locations—enough that the fighting was impossible to take in at once. Demons lay writhing on the ground, or dead, with sharp weapons protruding from their corpses. Wounded slaves limped from the battlefield, or screamed their death throes. Toward the back of the settlement, a few demons ran through the streets, laying claim to a new wasteland.
William scanned for Bray’s body, or for Kirby. His eyes riveted on a large group congregated by the northern wall, which seemed to make up the bulk of the battle.
Before he could find either of his friends, the tip of a gun graced the back of his neck.
“A last lesson,” Rudyard snarled, pushing William harder against the railing, making him think he might die from a fall rather than a bullet. “Perhaps the most important. You will watch the rest of the humans die.”
William found his hatred as he spat, “You will die, too.”
It was a hope, more than a reality. Even if the slaves somehow survived and got the keys to the building, Rudyard would see them coming. He had several powerful Tech Magic weapons slung across his back to easily pick them off. He had enough protection to last him some time, and the knowledge to determine a strategy that might save his life. His death was uncertain.
An idea struck William.
He leaned forward to yell.
Rudyard yanked him hard, poking his gun into William’s skin. “If you try calling out to the demons, I will shoot you.”
“The slaves will win the battle, and they will come for you,” William hissed.
“I will watch the last of this city crumble,” Rudyard said confidently. “When it is over, I will decide what to do with the survivors, if anyone lives.”
William scanned the battlefield, looking unsuccessfully for Bray. The mutants must have torn his flesh from his bones. They must have reduced him to an unrecognizable corpse.
Food for the worms.
“Tolstoy made a mistake,” Rudyard said arrogantly. “Too much time in the tower left him weak. He built a city from which he was disconnected. Things will be different, once this is over. I will make sure of it.”
“Your demon army is gone,” William retaliated. Taking a hopeful guess, he said, “So are your guards.”
“So be it,” Rudyard said dismissively. “There are more demons, just as there are more humans. I can get more of both.”
William swallowed a useless retort. Rudyard was right. Looking toward the large fight by the wall, and the other, smaller battles, he saw more demons than he could count easily. Scanning from one gory scene to the next, his eyes returned to the wall.
And stopped.
On the outskirts of that frenzied battle, Bray swung his sword, hacking away at a demon. A ghost? William blinked, as if he might be in the midst of a waking dream. But it was no dream. Blood soaked Bray’s shirt as he fought valiantly, slashing at the demon with the same skill that William remembered, from their time together in the woods. Nearby, Kirby speared a beast in the head with a knife. It looked as if they were trying to break through a line of demons. All around them, slaves yelled their war cries as they steadily progressed toward some people pinned against the wall.
Hope flickered in William’s stomach.
Maybe they would win.
But that wouldn’t matter to William.
He would die on this balcony, at the hands of a vengeful monster who never cared if he lived or died in the first place.
William wouldn’t let it end that way.
Swallowing what might be his last breath of air, he spun and dove at Rudyard.
Chapter 76: Kirby
Bray and Kirby fought their way through the screeching demons, trying to get to Clara, Giovanni, and the dozen other trapped people by the wall. It seemed as if the large batch of twisted men were the last sizeable group of the demon army, other than a few at the fringes of the courtyard.
But forty monsters were no small force.
Most had survived long enough to taste the blood of an enemy.
They wanted more.
Kirby and Bray killed the demons on the outskirts, as more and more people from other parts of the courtyard finished their individual battles, joining them.
“We need to draw them away!” someone near Kirby shouted.
Looking over, she spotted the source of the voice. Drew. Drew shouted instructions as he fought vigorously. Hope filled her stomach.
“Protect the people by the wall!” Kirby joined his rallying cry.
Near Drew, she saw Teddy, Gabe, and James putting up an equally stubborn fight. Bray swung his sword furiously.
They might win this battle, if they persisted.
Catching on to Drew’s and Kirby’s idea, Bray yelled, “Spread out! Make as much noise as you can to draw them away, before they overwhelm them!”
Bray inspired more people to spread out down the line of demons, yelling and drawing their attention to siphon them from the larger horde. The trapped people against the wall stood in a tight line, protecting each other as best they could with fists and the last of their weapons.
Together, Kirby’s group thinned the layer of twisted men. Some of the mutants fell into confusion, torn between attacking those in front and those behind. Their moment of indecision cost their lives.
Demons shrieked and fell.
Kirby’s compatriots cried out triumphantly.
All around her, The Shadow People—and the other slaves who had joined them—made good on their whispered frustrations, fighting with more bravery than she could have hoped.
“Keep going!” Kirby screamed.
A scream ripped her attention to someone by the wall. One of the demons had broken ahead of the others, catching a mouthful of Clara’s arm. Clara screamed in agony, pulling instinctively away, leaving a chunk of meat behind. Driven by the sight of blood, some of the confused demons refocused their attack.
“Clara!” Giovanni yelled. “No!”
H
e broke from the dozen trapped others and rushed to her aid.
Clara shrieked in agony, clutching her wound.
To Kirby’s horror, the mutants swarmed. Clara’s face was painted crimson as she flailed ineffectually and the demons tugged her down. Moments later Giovanni fell. The demons knelt, showing their naked, wart-covered backs, hunkering down and feeding.
“Giovanni! Clara!” James yelled in shock.
The rest of the dozen people by the wall panicked, making final, fatal attempts at fighting, or running.
With intermittent screams, they fell and were overtaken.
And then they were gone.
Pointless tears fell down Kirby’s face as she fought. But there was no one left to save.
Blood dripping from his stomach and his shoulder, Bray found a savage cry in his voice, and yelled, “Kill these dirt-scratchers!”
More and more people joined him with ravenous war cries, pinning the demons against the wall. Hearing the cries of the angry mob, the feeding demons abandoned their meals, facing the oncoming people.
“Keep closing! Do not flee!” Kirby yelled to the others, as she listened to their invigorated cries and the sounds of the dying mutants. “We almost have them!”
They’d lost too many comrades.
But the battle was almost over.
Chapter 77: William
William threw all his weight into a tackle, crashing into Rudyard.
The gun fired.
The ear-splitting blast screamed in William’s ears as he knocked Rudyard backward, pinning him against the glass window. Knocked off balance, Rudyard slid sideways against the pane. The world became a blur as William pawed, kicked, and grabbed for the gun.
Finding it, he pushed the barrel up and away as another blast filled the air. Rudyard flung up a knee, but missed.
William twisted the gun again with all the force he could muster, but Rudyard found his footing and his strength, pushing William back a step. William dug in his heels, keeping hold of the gun. A scream of death echoed from somewhere below. That scream would be William’s, if his last attempt failed.
The Ruins Box Set Page 97