Another wave of fire came through the corridor, impacting against their stone mound and sending droplets of burning fluid splashing over them. One landed on Kyle’s shoulder. The man didn’t blink. Arturus doused the fire with his shirt sleeve as the hunter took aim.
Drip. Drip. Drip. . .
Kyle fired again. Another dyitzu screeched in pain.
“Good one,” Aaron called. “You got his fucking hand.”
A shadow amongst the dyitzu moved towards the corridor.
Kyle fired again. Arturus’ ears were ringing from the gunshots.
“You missed!” Avery shouted.
Kyle shook his head. “No I didn’t.”
“Icanitzu,” Galen warned. “Two of them. Don’t waste your bullets trying to shoot them.”
“Fuck,” Aaron said. “We should have brought that damn infidel.”
Kyle fired again and was rewarded with another shout.
Johnny fired too, and was joined by a few of the other hunters. No hits.
“Save your bullets!” Aaron warned. “Shoot only if you know you’ve got them. And don’t worry about the Icanitzu. Galen and I will handle them if they come.”
More fire swarmed through, and Arturus ducked low behind the mound. The fluid was catching across from him and had seeped into the cracks between the stones. Kyle had to stand up to aim over the flames, only allowing himself to cough after he had fired and knelt back down.
Drip. Drip. Drip. . .
The funeral mound was getting warm.
Arturus stared between the twin flames that were coming up from inside his stone cover. He couldn’t get a good shot at any of the dyitzu. He could see the tip of one’s stub wing, but he didn’t think he could hit it.
Then one peeked out of its cubbyhole. It cocked its arm to throw, a fireball forming in its hand. Arturus shot it in the throat. The fireball spun uselessly in the air, suspended in place as the thing dropped. Beside him, Kyle shot as well. The stub wing Arturus had passed over erupted, spewing out a geyser of blood.
“Fuck ‘em up boys!” Fitch shouted.
The dyitzu responded. Arturus ducked down. A wave of fire swarmed over his head. The room was lit now with the dying fireballs. The corridor between them and their enemies was entirely aflame.
Another wave.
Arturus dared to look over his cover after the fire swarm had passed.
Drip. Drip. Drip. . .
The Icanitzu were already in the corridor. They were as immune to the fire as they were to Kyle’s bullets. Arturus had never seen one before.
They were far more human than the dyitzu. On their own, their facial features could have passed for a person’s. Their skin tone was too grey, however, and Arturus couldn’t tell if they were tinged with red, or if that tint was caused by the illumination of the corridor’s flames. Their eyes were the same glossy, obsidian black pupil-full orbs that the dyitzu had. Arturus noticed, as the first came through snarling, that all of their teeth were canines. Their bodies were masculine in form but devoid of any genitalia. Five fingered hands ended in claws, their human ankles were attached to demonic three toed feet—two talons in front, one towards the back. They had wings as well. Long black bat-like wings which they kept folded behind them.
Fitch was the closest to the corridor and stood up behind his mound to face them. One Icanitzu leapt upon the mound, its talons digging in with enough force to knock some of the stones loose, its wings spread to help its balance. The thing swung out with one claw. The blow caught Fitch across his face, sending him spinning back to his hands and knees.
“Fitch!” Duncan shouted.
The claw had ripped open Fitch’s cheek from the corner of his mouth to the back of his jaw. He held his hand to his face to try and stop the bleeding. The Icanitzu kicked out, its talons finding purchase in Fitch’s side. It pulled its leg backwards, ripping cloth, flesh and muscle away from Fitch’s abdomen. It leapt down from the mound, mouth open, and bit into his neck.
Drip.
The second Icanitzu came over the mound at full speed—and ran straight into Galen’s haymaker. Blood fountained from its nose as it stumbled away from the corridor and into one corner.
Drip.
The first Icanitzu stood up from the mess of blood and flesh that it had made of Fitch. Galen had dropped low, like a wrestler, and shot in towards the beast. Arturus had experienced in practice the force of the man. One might as well try and resist a ton of stone.
Galen got in under the devil easily and powered his way up. The Icanitzu struggled to claw at him, but the warrior shoved it away, transferring his body’s momentum to the beast. It slammed into the far wall.
Drip. . .
“Keep shooting!” Aaron said, dashing past the corridor’s entrance to face the Icanitzu.
“Keep the dyitzu out,” Galen ordered.
The Icanitzu Galen was fighting swung at him. He moved back quickly, but the devil was able to rake its claws against his side. The blow did little more than tear the cloth that covered his body armor.
Arturus turned back towards the corridor in time to see the next wave of fire.
“Duck!” he shouted as he took cover.
The hunters followed his example and dropped behind their stone mounds. When Arturus stood again he saw some of the dyitzu had made it into the corridor. They had ducked low and were covering their faces as they charged. Unlike the Icanitzu, they were not immune to their own fire—nor to Arturus’ bullets.
He let loose several rounds with the rest of the hunters, their efforts mowing down the devils as they neared Fitch’s bleeding body.
“Keep them off me!” Duncan screamed, getting up and running towards his fallen friend.
Arturus glanced towards Galen and Aaron. Aaron was bleeding from his shoulder and had been backed into a corner. Galen had locked up one arm of his Icanitzu and had his other hand on the back of the devil’s head, pushing it down. He forced the thing into the wall. At first it tried to strike out with its free claw, but as Galen began throwing knees at its head, the devil brought its arm to its face to defend itself.
Everything he taught me works.
Arturus tore his gaze away from his mentor and ran around his mound, firing as he did so. He tried to keep in front of Duncan as the man ran for Fitch’s body. Avery and Johnny Huang came out firing as well. Duncan grabbed Fitch by the shoulders as Arturus ducked a fireball. Arturus cast another glance behind him when he heard Fitch’s body drop. Duncan was running back for cover. Arturus could see why. Fitch was beyond hope. So much of his blood pooled about him, gushing out from his neck, that it had spread into some of the dyitzu fire. There the blood bubbled as it evaporated.
Arturus took two running steps and dove back over his flaming funeral mound. Johnny Huang did likewise as Kyle let off another shot. Arturus did not doubt that the marksman had felled another one.
Drip.
Arturus focused on another shadow in the room beyond and brought it down with a well aimed bullet. The dyitzu corpses in the corridor were burning. He could smell their fat as they were incinerated.
Drip.
“Turi!” Galen’s voice immediately called his attention. “Choke!”
Drip. . .
The Icanitzu Galen faced was a mess of blood. One of its obsidian colored eyeballs dangled from its empty eye socket, having been forced out of its head by the fierceness of Galen’s knees. Its skull had been fractured and was not in entirely the correct shape. Had the thing been a human, Arturus had no doubt it would be dead. The devil was still pushing back. Galen let it off the wall and stepped half out of its way. He tugged at the Icanitzu’s arms and tripped it to the floor. It landed on its knees. Arturus ran towards it. He jumped on the devil’s back and wrapped his legs around its waist as if he was going to ride it piggyback. He slid one arm around its throat and the other behind its head.
The thing reached up with its claws, ready to rip at Arturus’ arms.
“Flatten it out boy!”
/> Arturus had no idea whether the voice was Galen’s in reality, or if he was just remembering his lessons. He pushed the weakened creature’s legs back with his feet. The Icanitzu went face first into the stone, crushing its own eyeball between the floor and its cheekbone.
It got one of its claws on Arturus’ arm.
I can’t choke it!
He let go and slid his arm over the devil’s wings and under its arm pits, trying to keep his limbs out of its reach. He looked up to Galen for instruction.
Aaron had worked his way out from his corner. The bleeding from his shoulder didn’t look bad. The cut on his brow had reopened as well, but so far it hadn’t bled into his eyes. Galen attacked Aaron’s Icanitzu from behind, taking a jump step forward as he threw a low round kick. Arturus had never seen anything kicked that hard in his life. Galen’s shin impacted with the Icanitzu’s thigh, spinning the beast away from Aaron, buckling its leg. Arturus heard the smack of the kick over the Kyle’s gunshot. Aaron and Galen swarmed the thing with punches.
“Too many!” Avery shouted.
Arturus looked back down to his enemy. It was starting to regain some of its wits.
Galen, help! I can’t fight an Icanitzu.
He had to choke it, soon. Or break its neck, or something.
But its claws.
He dropped a couple of elbows onto the back of the thing’s neck to keep it stunned and then reached out to grab one of its hands. He gripped its forefinger, pushing against the back of its hand with the heel of his palm for leverage. The resistance was more than he expected. He pushed down with his hips which had the effect of forcing his body weight forward. This flattened out the Icanitzu even farther while increasing the pressure on its digit. Its finger popped out of socket with a loud snap.
It can still claw me. I can’t choke it yet.
So he moved on to the second finger.
Snap.
And then the third.
Snap.
The thing let out a high pitched howl.
He let his body relax after each break before pushing down again with his hips, rocking forward each time as he grabbed a finger, and rocking back as he pulled to break it.
And the fourth.
Snap.
He couldn’t remember Galen’s instructions on how to break thumbs, so he moved on to its other hand.
Snap.
“Too many!” Avery shouted again.
“Turi, disengage,” Galen shouted. “Avery, get the AK ready. Everyone else run.”
Drip.
“Run!”
Arturus leapt up from his Icanitzu. It stood up behind him but quickly fell over. The devil tried to catch itself as it fell, its fingers splaying out at odd angles when its hands hit the stone. It wailed again.
Arturus followed the hunters in their dash out of the room. He hadn’t realized how smoky the air had become while he’d been fighting on the floor. The haze was thick enough to water his eyes and stick in his throat.
Avery’s AK 47 went off behind him on full auto. The muzzle flashes lit up the haze around him, almost blinding him.
“Run Run Run Run!” Aaron was shouting.
They sprinted through the dark rooms beyond, dyitzu fire swarming at their backs and sometimes lighting their way. Johnny ran straight into a wall, unable to see it as they turned a corner. He stopped, stunned, his nose broken. Duncan grabbed him by the collar and dragged him onward. After a few stumbles, Johnny regained his wits.
“Through here!” Aaron shouted. “Avery, another clip.”
The reports sounded off at a breakneck tempo.
“Go!” Duncan shouted as Arturus passed him.
They were no longer beneath the river, Arturus could tell. The rooms were just as dark, but as they neared the islands of light he could tell that the stone had returned to the deep shades of purple.
“I don’t see them,” Avery said as he caught up.
“Keep moving,” Aaron replied. “We haven’t got much of a lead on them.”
Arturus hadn’t realized how hard he was breathing. He felt light headed.
Keep it together.
The passages blurred by as they ran, dots of distant light appearing and receding.
“Down here,” Aaron ordered, taking them down a dark side passage.
They might run on past us.
They raced into the blackness.
Or we might run into a dead end.
The passage took them right, then left, and then right again. It was so dark that Arturus couldn’t quite see the people in front of him. They slowed down as a group, stumbling forward as fast as they dared go.
Someone finally stopped. Arturus and the rest of the hunters halted around him.
“Fuck,” Wistan said.
The hunter was slapping at himself.
“You okay?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah, fine.”
Arturus was glad for the break and tried to catch his breath. He heard something in the distance.
That’s not coming from behind us, that’s ahead. Is it water?
It didn’t sound like water. He couldn’t place it.
The claws of the dyitzu that are chasing us, perhaps? Did they somehow get in front of us?
“Fuck,” Wistan repeated. “Something’s on me. Mabe, get your lighter.”
Arturus heard the hunter rustling through his pack.
“We need to keep moving,” Aaron said.
“How’s your arm?” Galen asked.
“Fine. Bleeding, but not much. I’m not light headed or anything.”
“We don’t have much time,” Duncan’s voice came out between his gasps for breath.
The sound was more like the dropping of pins, Arturus noticed. Thousands and thousands of tiny pins.
“Quiet,” Aaron chided. “I’m trying to listen for the dyitzu.”
Mabe’s shuffling in his pack stopped. “Got it.”
I don’t know if I can run much farther. I’m exhausted.
He tried to remember what had tired him out so much. Was it the fight with the Icanitzu? It must have been. And the adrenaline.
I fought it. Will Galen be proud? Or mad that I didn’t kill it? Is it still coming?
He bit his lip as if the pain would wash away his fear.
He couldn’t feel any pain.
Too much adrenaline.
He heard the flicking of Mabe’s lighter and saw the sparks. After the third try, a single finger of flame shot up from the lighter. He held it up towards Wistan. “You okay, man?”
Is the sound getting louder?
“Oh shit, what’s that?” Mabe said.
Arturus and the rest of the hunters gathered around Wistan. On his arm, illuminated by the lighter, was a small spider. It was maybe a half inch tall.
“Poisonous?” Wistan asked, his voice shaking.
“Nothing in Hell is poisonous,” Aaron answered.
Galen grunted his agreement.
“Shit, I’ve got one on me too,” Johnny’s voice was strangely nasal.
Arturus caught a glimpse of him in the lighter’s light. Johnny’s nose was horribly disfigured and swollen. Arturus could see the dip where the septum had broken. Johnny slapped at his shoulder.
The lighter went out for a second, but Mabe quickly relit it.
The spider on Wistan’s arm was oddly reflective. Arturus got even closer to focus on it. Its legs appeared to be made of metal and were catching the light. He saw as it moved that there was a miniscule spur near the bottom of each of its legs. It moved a few inches across the hunter’s arm, perhaps scared by how close Arturus had gotten, its spurs burying themselves into Wistan’s flesh. The man’s skin raised just slightly before popping back down as each leg freed itself. Behind the spider, welling up from its footprints in the skin, were small beads of blood.
The sound is definitely getting louder.
“Silverleg spider,” Aaron whispered as he flicked the thing off of Wistan’s arm.
“Light a torch,” Ga
len ordered, his words as urgent as Arturus could ever remember them being.
Arturus then heard the howl of an Icanitzu echoing through the corridors behind them.
Mabe returned to his pack.
“Quickly, Mabe,” Galen said.
The rain of pin drops was loud enough that Galen’s voice didn’t drown the sound out.
Mabe’s torch sprang to life. Arturus looked down the corridor.
Spiders were coming around the bend. A few had come ahead, but behind them, where they were thickest, he couldn’t even see the floor beneath them. Many were marching along the walls. The corridor was lit with countless points of light as the torches caught the thousands upon thousands of silver legs. The myriad lights spun in circles, pouring down the corridor, dancing over Arturus’ head and across his body.
“More torches,” Galen ordered. “They’re swarming.”
Two more sprang into life, and then another, each one multiplying the amount of tiny lights.
The spiders feared the flames.
Some, perhaps blinded or confused, fled towards the torches. They popped in quick conflagrations as the hunters brought their fire low. Most of the spiders pulled away, however, and fled to the edges and corners of the corridor.
The four men with torches, Mabe, Wistan, Johnny and Avery, moved to the front. The spiders fled farther away, their sudden movement sounding like a shower of pins.
“Should we go back?” Mabe asked.
Aaron shook his head, slowly, from side to side.
“Two torches in front, two in back,” Galen said. “How many extras do we have?”
Arturus didn’t dare take his gaze away from the spiders. He heard the hunters answer his father, though he wasn’t paying enough attention to know who was saying what.
“I’ve got two.”
“One left.”
“Two.”
The ten of them huddled together. The four men with torches moved to the corners, their backs to the group.
Arturus heard the pops of the braver silverlegs as the torches caught them.
As quickly as they could, they pushed forward through the pops and the thousands of points of reflected torchlight. The spiders climbed the walls en masse, scurrying away from the fire to the tune of a hundred thousand needles dropping.
Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong) Page 27