Before encountering Kobal a few months ago, I’d only ever seen demons as monsters, and I’d gleefully slaughtered any I came across before they could kill me. I hadn’t known Kobal was the king of Hell when I tried to ambush him or I would have stayed far away.
I still shuddered when I thought about what could have happened to my fellow Wilders if Kobal hadn’t spared us that day. Losing my life was one thing, but losing theirs was something else entirely. Randy had appointed me in charge when he left; the lives of the Wilders following me rested on my shoulders, and I felt the weight of that more than the weight of the deer draped around me.
At the time, it had seemed like such a simple attack against Kobal. Disable them, kill the demons, get the stuff, and get out fast. We’d done it countless times before, but Kobal had somehow known we were there and come up behind us with some of his friends while we’d been waiting for them. We could have been killed that day and all because I’d made a bad decision.
Now, I could only hope that I’d made the right decision in approaching the demons to keep the Wilders safe.
But after Kobal let us live, it was a risk I was willing to take. Granted, Kobal left us tied up in the woods and vulnerable to anything lurking nearby, but he’d still given us a chance to survive. It was more than any other demon had given us before. Intrigued by the fact he hadn’t torn our heads off, my curiosity got the best of me, and I’d followed him to the gateway.
After witnessing numerous monsters pouring out of Hell when the seals fell, I decided to put aside my hatred of demons and work with those following the king and queen. It was the only way humans and demons would survive what had fled the gateway. I’d seen everything from a drakón —massive, skeletal, dragon-looking things—to tiny gobalinus—hideous, two-foot-tall goblins—escape the gateway, along with countless other things that should belong only in nightmares.
Corson’s steps sounded behind me, but I didn’t look back. I didn’t know what it was about him that unnerved me far more than any of the other demons. Maybe it was because his eyes, the startling color of citrine, were more than a little intriguing. Or maybe it was because he had this way of flirting with me that made me actually feel like a woman.
Not many men had done that. Not many men were brave enough to flirt with me in the first place. But Corson did, and he seemed to enjoy it. He also looked at me in a way…
I broke the thought off and gave myself a mental shake. I will not be attracted to a demon! Abso-fucking-lutely not. It would never happen. My hands tightened on the legs of the deer as I kept repeating this to myself, but I couldn’t stop my gaze from going to him.
He sauntered through the woods as if he belonged in this world—which, no matter how they’d arrived here, demons were not meant to be here. However, the opening of the gateway had caused Hell and Earth to become intertwined so completely that there would never be any undoing it.
This was our joined world now.
Being around Corson had been easier when we’d all been at the wall. I’d mostly stayed in the houses by the wall and with people, while he’d resided in one of the tents on the hill with the other demons. He’d also left for a couple of weeks to travel through Hell and over to the other side of the world with Kobal. I hadn’t thought of Corson at all while he’d been gone. Nope, not once had it crossed my mind to wonder if he still lived.
With a sigh, I had to admit that even I wasn’t buying the shit I was trying to shovel to myself. He had crossed my mind a time or two, but only because I’d been curious to know if the king still lived or if he’d died when he’d returned to Hell with the others. That was the only reason Corson had entered my mind once he left.
Liar. Ugh, sometimes I hated my stupid little inner voice. It never let me lie to myself.
But most of my thoughts of Corson had consisted of eviscerating his earring-wearing, smug ass. There had been zero dreams of skin touching skin, lips brushing against lips, of my fingers sliding through the thick black hair falling in curls around his pointed ears—hair that was so black it appeared blue in some lights.
Corson smiled when he met my gaze, and his eyes sparkled. With him standing about nine inches taller than my five-seven height, I found my chin lifting to hold his stare. My hands twitched on the deer’s legs as I was hit with the impulse to trace the tip of one of his pointed ears.
And the first time I’d seen those ears, they’d been decorated with three different kinds of earrings from three different women.
I turned away as that reminder lodged firmly into place. It hadn’t taken much time to learn what Corson’s earrings meant. The civvies at the wall were eager to gossip about the demons residing in their midst, except for the queen, River. Few knew much about the queen of Hell, and those who did remained silent about what she was and what she could do. I’d heard rumors that she was Lucifer’s daughter, one where she was an angel, and some whispered she was a witch, but no one confirmed any of those rumors. I suspected the demons enjoyed the numerous tales floating around and that they’d probably started some of them.
The civvies spilled every juicy detail they had on the demons. I’d also learned the civvies didn’t call us Wilders but had different names for us. Some considered us lunatics, others called us savages, and some believed we were stupid to remain in the Wilds instead of retreating to civilization or evacuating when the government commanded it.
However, after everything we saw on the day the gateway opened, Randy didn’t trust the government enough to come forward when, a year later, they swept through near where we were in search of survivors. When the Wilders learned the government and demons had teamed up to work together, it only confirmed that the government couldn’t be trusted. Other Wilders had never encountered the rescue parties and had chosen not to travel to the wall.
Talking with the civvies, I’d quickly realized that Corson had made his way through a fair amount of the women, and this was only one small area of the wall. The king and his closest advisors moved around the extensive wall often, and they’d traveled the wall on the other side of the world too. Corson had probably likely worn earrings from the women he’d met while traveling too, which would have been a lot of women.
Stretching all the way around the United States, the immense wall blocked the outer states from the central states. Those outer states hadn’t been as severely affected by the gateway opening, the release of demons, and the nuclear bombing that followed.
Thankfully, Hell absorbed the nuclear fallout before it could spread across the land. Otherwise, I might be sporting a tail or third eye, or some other radiation deformity. The only concerns I had about fashion were if the clothes fit me, did they blend in with the trees, and were they warm? But even I wouldn’t have appreciated having to cut holes into my pants to slip my tail through.
Or I could have been killed outright and ended up like so many others I once knew. I’d lived in Kansas, close to the gateway when it all started. It was my home, my family, my town that was devastated.
I was only eight when everything I knew changed, but I stopped being a child that day. I barely recalled the good of my childhood, and I rarely thought about the people I’d lost or the things taken from me. It was easier not to remember.
The child I’d been never would have survived in this world. On the day the gateway opened, her existence was burned away as surely as if the bombs had fallen on her home.
I shifted the deer on my shoulders and hurried faster through the woods to get away from Corson. Unlike at the wall, there was nowhere for me to hide from him anymore, nowhere to lose myself as we camped together these last couple of weeks while moving deeper into the Wilds.
We’d abandoned the two vehicles we left the wall with on the fifth day of travel. It was much easier to go undetected on foot in the woods than in a truck on the pitted roads. Finding gas was also difficult, if not impossible out here. Travel may be slower on foot, but it was safer, and my feet were used to walking.
We were about
ten miles from the gateway now, if the markings I’d seen along the way and my calculations were correct, and they almost always were. I hadn’t lived this long by not learning how to navigate. I could thank Randy for that too, but then I could thank Randy for almost everything that made me who I was now.
But even without the markings and my ability to navigate, I would know where we were. I walked faster as the memory of what we’d traveled past yesterday shoved to the forefront of my mind. I’d never forget what I’d seen there, but I would spend the rest of my life trying. Unfortunately, no matter how fast I walked, the memory stalked me.
Chapter Five
Wren
“You might want to slow down. We haven’t explored this area much,” Corson said from behind me.
I glanced back at him, my gaze running over his narrow face and lean body. He moved with the grace inherent to all demons, including the giant, lumbering ones. With Corson, it seemed more natural as his body moved like water rippling over rocks, effortless in its fluidity.
“I don’t recall asking for your insights, demon,” I retorted, but I was irritated with myself for being reckless in my need to escape him and my memories. The last time I was in this area, it had been safe, but even before the seal creatures escaped Hell, places were always changing in the Wilds. What was once safe, might not be safe an hour later.
I’d never been reckless before Corson strolled into my life, not in these kinds of situations. I wouldn’t be alive if I wasn’t cautious. I’d watched countless others die because of their stupidity or irresponsibility, and I would not be one of them because of some demon.
Easing my pace, I focused on my surroundings as I decided firmly against looking at him or acknowledging him again. I searched the shadows and inhaled the familiar aroma of rotting leaves, dirt, and animals. I’d lived in the Wilds for enough years to pick out the various scents in the different areas.
We were more north than I normally would have been at this time of the year. It was the custom to head south when the leaves started to turn. The humans surviving in the Wilds had become like birds over the years. Not only did we start migrating and flying away when an enemy approached, but if cornered, we also turned on them and pecked out their eyes until they died. I’d always preferred going for the eyes rather than flying away, but I also knew when to retreat.
Going south was going to have to wait a bit for us this year though. After some discussion between the demons and Wilders, we’d determined to return to the gateway before moving south and deeper inland. The gateway was closed now, but the king believed many of the things that escaped it might go back to it. It was a place they knew, and the remnants of the power of Hell may draw them back.
As we traveled, we’d remarked and remapped the land while hunting our enemies. Besides our group, there were other factions of demons, Wilders, and civvies working around the country to map out different areas and destroy any enemy residing there.
The Wilders were used to the constant moving and mapping of terrain. The various groups of Wilders knew much of this area. When those groups encountered each other, they openly shared their knowledge, but things had changed now that more enemies wandered our country.
Areas we’d once believed relatively safe weren’t anymore. The Wilders had become nomads over the years, but the demons who settled into the Wilds after the gateway first opened had mostly stayed in certain areas. Those demons sometimes roamed, and there were always rogues to watch out for, but we’d mostly had an idea of where they were… we no longer did.
Out of all the groups sent out from the wall, we were the only one that would travel deeper and deeper into areas of the Wilds even I didn’t know in search of the remaining fallen angels. The other groups would establish a perimeter between us and the wall that would hopefully offer more protection for the civvies.
Having more than one team moving inland had been a hot debate while we’d still been at the wall, but in the end, it was determined that too many teams pushing inland could attract the attention of the things we hunted. It would also put more lives at risk for a mission that might turn up nothing. The angels could be anywhere in the world.
Our group was also the only one with a demon who could communicate with the other groups telepathically. Malorick kept in touch with the other groups, letting them know our position and if it was safe for them to travel through certain areas.
The crunch of a stick drew my gaze to the right. I searched the shadows as the breeze caused the tendrils of hair that had worked free of my braid to tickle my face. I didn’t hear Corson move, but I felt the warmth of him against my elbow when he stepped closer.
I buried the thrill going through me at having him so near. My hand went to the gun at my side; I rested my palm on the handle as I listened to the scratch of a squirrel’s claws against the oak tree to my right. The branches shook when the animal flew from one limb to another and scampered down the next tree trunk. My hand fell away from my gun. The squirrel wouldn’t be moving with such reckless abandon if a predator was nearby.
I gripped the deer’s legs again and stepped forward. The second my foot hit the ground, the dirt collapsed beneath it. Rocks clattered and banged as they spiraled into the pit opening before me. Cold air rushed out of the blackness as more dirt gave way to reveal an ever-growing hole in the ground. The stale scent of Earth and something feral rose to greet me.
Death. It’s death below.
Time froze for a second as my foot hung suspended over open air, and then I felt myself tilting forward. I tried to yank my foot back, tried to regain my balance, but my angle caused the deer to shift on my shoulders, and its weight toppled me forward before I could shove the carcass off me. There was nothing I could do to stop myself from tumbling into the abyss with the deer still draped around my shoulders.
Corson’s hand enveloped my wrist. He jerked one of my arms up and away from the deer as he caught me. Swinging back, I slammed against the dirt wall, and my breath burst from my lungs with a loud, oomph.
I gasped for air as my feet dangled over nothing. I waited for some hideous monster to surge up and close its mouth over me, to snatch me away with so much force that Corson was left holding only the stump of my arm. I resisted the urge to kick my feet as if I could somehow run out of the hole.
Is there a bottom to this thing? Is this another gateway into Hell? But then I heard the last of the falling rocks clatter against a distant bottom. The pit did have an end, but it was a long way down.
“Are you okay?” Corson demanded.
Lifting my head, I spotted him above me. His face was strained with worry as his eyes searched mine. “I think I shaved a few seconds off my life, but I’m fine.”
“I’m going to pull you up.”
“That would be appreciated.”
His mouth quirked in a smile as he looped his other hand under my armpit. Cool dirt fell down my shirt; my back was scoured by the wall as he began to lift me from the hole. Holding my breath, I stared at my dangling feet and tried not to think about what had created this.
Corson almost had me to the top when more dirt gave way beneath him. A scream lodged in my throat when I dropped a couple of feet back into the hole. Corson fell into the hole up to his waist before stopping himself. His hands tightened on my arms as the rest of the ground collapsed beneath him and we fell.
The deer dragged me down so fast I couldn’t claw at the sides of the tunnel to ease my plunge. Corson released his hold under my arm, and a scraping sound filled the air. The rate of descent lessened, and I realized Corson was using his talons to keep us from plummeting straight to the bottom.
My other arm remained lifted awkwardly above me from Corson’s hold on my wrist. In the hopes of slowing our descent, I tried to maneuver the deer off my shoulders the best I could, without breaking his grip. Hooves kicked me in the head, and one caught the corner of my eye. I could feel it swelling already, but I’d deserved it; I had shot the animal through the heart, a few bum
ps and bruises were nothing in comparison.
The weight of the deer sliding to my left, caused my shoulders to pull further down. My neck and back screamed in protest; I feared my shoulder might pop out of its socket as I was pulled in two directions like a puppet on a string. Somehow, I managed to maneuver enough to grab the deer’s front legs and pull it the rest of the way off.
I breathed a sigh of relief as its weight eased from me and its body tumbled away. The rate of our descent eased a little more. Craning my head back, I watched Corson tear at the wall in an attempt to halt our plunge. Sparks flew off the tips of his talons as they struck rocks. The muscles in his forearms bulged, but he couldn’t get any traction on the wall.
He’d be able to stop himself if he had both his hands free, but the earth was too loose for him to get only one hand into it. He had to know that if he sacrificed me, he could save himself.
He’s going to throw me aside, and I won’t blame him if he does. Survival of the fittest and all.
Even as I thought it, his hand clenched on my wrist, and our plunge continued.
Chapter Six
Wren
“Help!” I screamed and leapt at the wall.
Dirt embedded beneath my fingernails and abraded my palms as I scrambled for purchase. Stepping back, I panted for air while I gazed at the distant circle of light overhead. At least five hundred feet above me, that daylight seemed about as achievable as Heaven right now.
“He—aggghh,” my scream for help cut off when a hand slid over my mouth.
Pulled back against Corson’s solid chest, his breath sounded in my ear when he pinned me firmly to him. Too stunned to move for a second, I leaned against him as his lips brushed my ear. “Quiet!” he hissed.
Lifting my hands, I tugged at his wrist as I twisted to break free of his hold. Releasing me, he strolled away, his boots crunching the debris we’d toppled into the pit. His casual demeanor seemed entirely out of place considering where we now stood. I didn’t have to see the creature to know we’d fallen into the trap of something awful. Seeing it would probably only make it worse.
Hell on Earth (Hell on Earth, Book 1) (Hell on Earth Series) Page 3