Fire City

by Bali Rai

  Unconcerned, his attention reverted to the street, where the patrollers had now captured the homeless youths and were being surrounded by a mob. He winced as the larger demon slapped one of the boys. A flicker from the first floor opposite told him that one of the sash openings was being drawn upwards. He paid it no mind as he saw someone moving through the crowds, an old man in a grey cloak.

  Suddenly a roar went up, a new voice bellowed out a warning and he smelled and heard the arrival of more patrols. As some of the crowd ran for cover, Jonah sensed the presence of another demon too, something older and more powerful than the rest. He turned to his right and saw him.

  At nearly two metres in height, the demon was shorter than many of his patrollers, but the power in his limbs was far greater. His mouth gaped open as he sped towards the crowd. Crimson eyes sat underneath a heavily pronounced and ridged brow. Below the eyes sat a wide, compacted nose and the powerful jaw that nearly all demons possessed, which extended outwards, with jagged teeth that were yellowing and dripping with saliva. A single slash of silver diagonally bisected the otherwise jet-black fur that covered his chest.

  The old man, his face weathered by time, each wrinkle lined with dirt, confronted this demon. He was barefoot, and wearing clothes that were outsized and in tatters. They exchanged words, the man standing his ground as the demon began to clap slowly. Jonah tried to spot Mace, but to no avail. He wondered where the giant had gone as he watched the scene unfold beneath him. Another movement on the first floor opposite took his attention for perhaps half a second. He scanned the windows but saw nothing new. All around him the wind began to pick up, biting and cold.

  Suddenly Tyrell cried out. Jonah looked down and saw the old man slump to the uneven tarmac. The demon had plucked out his heart and was holding it aloft, squashing it between powerful fingers. Tyrell, meanwhile, had wrestled the nearest patroller to the ground and was dodging its mouth, pinning it to the ground. He watched Martha falter, as though her legs had grown suddenly weak, and then the lead demon pounced. Tyrell was sent flying by the impact but his attacker remained in control. Within seconds, he had taken hold of Tyrell’s throat. Lightning forked in the sky, directly above Jonah’s head. Immediately a sonorous boom of thunder rattled the window frames. Rain poured from the clouds, an instant deluge. More of the crowd scattered as Jonah heard Martha scream. In front of her, the demon said something to Tyrell and then he bared his murderous fangs . . .

  16

  THE BLACK SHAPE stopped me in my tracks just as I had decided that somehow I would have to try and tackle Mias. The shape moved faster than I could comprehend, smashing into the demon. The force of the collision sent out shock waves, like an earthquake. The ground began to undulate, sending people flying and causing buildings to shake. I scrambled forward, desperate to reach Tyrell as loose stone, bricks and roof tiles crashed around me.

  The rain was thundering down now, almost obscuring the opposite side of the street, and Mias was nowhere to be seen. The ground around Tyrell was steaming, as though it had been heated, and the temperature was at least ten degrees higher than the surrounding area. I knelt at his side and felt the heat against my skin, unable to understand what was happening around us. The demon underlord was gone, the rain was so heavy that I found it difficult to see or breathe, and a circle of impossible warmth radiated around Tyrell. What the hell was going on?

  I heard a roar from behind me. So loud that it rivalled the thunder. As I checked Tyrell for a pulse, I felt the force of two objects colliding. Again, the impact sent out shock waves and I fell to the right before looking up in astonishment.

  Mias was back. He had grown to twice his normal size and his eyes flickered as though they were on fire. Jonah faced him, a short sword in one hand, the other holding a tapered spear. Something in his stance reminded me of a predatory cat, like the tigers that my mother had shown me pictures of. The spear he held crackled and buzzed with a blue light, as though it had been energized. Again, comprehension escaped me. I couldn’t work out where Jonah had come from. All I knew was that I was pleased to see him.

  Pleased, but worried too . . .

  Mias stepped towards Jonah and swung out a fist. I gasped in fear as Jonah waited until the very last moment before stepping inside the blow, cutting into Mias’ arm with his sword. The demon seemed to feel nothing and repeated his move with the opposite hand, deadly claws outstretched. Again Jonah timed his escape, and again he swiped out with his sword.

  This time Mias bellowed as if hurt and I grew more confident. Somehow Jonah had hurt the monster, something I’d never imagined possible.

  He struck again, and one of Mias’ fingers flew into the air, blood spouting from the wound. I watched in growing awe and admiration as Jonah somersaulted through the air as though his legs were coiled springs.

  Mias stopped and studied his wound. He roared in defiance and set off towards Jonah. My confidence ebbed as I saw the rage in Mias’ face. I could see that he wanted to kill my new friend and the thought sickened me. Only Jonah managed to evade injury again, with yet another impossibly high somersault taking him over the demon. He landed on his feet behind Mias, and used that advantage to stab the demon with his spear. As the demon shrieked, I sensed a presence behind me. Springing to my feet, I turned to find Mace standing at Tyrell’s feet.

  ‘We’ve gotta go!’ the giant shouted through the pounding rain. ‘Quickly!’

  I nodded, and despite being torn about leaving Jonah to fight Mias alone, I knew that Mace was right. I just had to hope that Jonah would win – any other outcome was unthinkable.

  ‘Where are the other demons?’ I asked.

  ‘Coming!’ yelled Mace as he grabbed Tyrell and hefted him across his right shoulder. ‘Get back into the bar.’

  We ran for the hotel’s entrance, where Prior and some others had already set up barricades. They let us through before closing ranks again, just as something large and weighty slammed into the closed doors. I shuddered as the doors wobbled in their frame, and led Mace to a table, sweeping it clear. As Mace laid Tyrell down, I saw that the bar was packed with frightened people. Huddled in one corner, shaking with shock, were the two youths whose lives had just been saved.

  ‘What the hell happened out there?’ I asked Mace. ‘What was that thing that attacked Mias and where did Jonah come from?’

  ‘I don’t know what that thing was, but Jonah was up on the roof,’ Mace admitted. ‘We saw the youths running from the patrollers and came after them. I was watching from the alley across the street when it kicked off. Next thing I knew I was sitting on my arse, with a patroller at my side. The blast wave sent everyone flying. I killed the patroller before it came to, and then Jonah appeared . . .’

  I nodded and thought about the intense temperature around Tyrell when I’d reached him.

  ‘That weapon he used to attack Mias – it created some sort of heat circle round Tyrell,’ I said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  Mace shrugged. ‘I’ll be having a chat with that boy later,’ he told me. ‘If he survives. Mias looks pretty upset.’

  ‘He’ll kill Jonah if we don’t do something,’ I urged. ‘We have to help him.’ That was the moment when I knew for sure that my feelings for Jonah were different to any I’d had before. Even though it felt strange to be so attached to someone I’d only just met, I couldn’t pretend otherwise any more. He had to survive.

  Mace grunted and I’m sure I saw a slight smirk too. Was I that obvious?

  ‘We can’t help him if we’re dead,’ he pointed out. ‘Let him handle Mias. We need to stop the patrollers from breaking in.’

  I didn’t reply because his answer wasn’t the one I’d wanted to hear. It was the right answer though, no matter how much I didn’t like it. We were trapped in the hotel and the demons had our scent, the aroma of our blood in their nostrils. Suddenly I had an idea – something Mace had once told me about when I was younger. I ran behind the bar and set out a line of empty bottles.

>   ‘Something I was thinking about earlier,’ I told Mace and Prior when they gave me confused looks.

  On the table, Tyrell had begun to regain consciousness. He raised his head and asked where he was. No one replied so he grunted and rubbed his big head, sitting up.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Prior asked me. ‘We’ve got to defend the door.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ I demanded, concentrating on filling each bottle with alcohol. When that was done, I searched around for some cloth. Eventually I gave up and began to remove my long-sleeved top, relieved that I’d bothered to put on an undergarment.

  ‘You’re stripping in the middle of a battle?’ asked Mace. ‘Martha, I don’t think—’

  ‘Sssh!’ I ignored more strange looks and tore my top into strips after wringing out some of the excess rainwater. Then I stuffed each bottle with a single rag, leaving a little to overhang. I worked quickly and without a word, and Mace was obviously the first to understand what I was doing.

  ‘Firebombs!’ he said, almost delighted.

  ‘Exactly!’ I replied. ‘Quick – find some matches and get these to the front!’

  Prior and Mace gathered the bottles and ran to the entrance. They set their bombs down and began to look for matches. Prior hacked up phlegm, his face bright red, eyes streaming.

  Faith, who after fetching a secret stash of weapons from the kitchen was helping to hold the door, took a box from the pocket of her trousers.

  ‘You looking for these?’ she asked Prior, who was wiping his mouth, his breathing laboured.

  ‘Light two of the rags,’ he gasped. ‘Quickly and there’s a drink in it for you.’

  Faith shook her head, her blonde hair tied into a knot on her head. ‘A drink with you?’ I heard her reply. ‘No thanks – I’d rather amputate, pickle and eat one of my own toes. Now if Mace was asking . . .’

  ‘I’m asking, then!’ yelled Mace. ‘Just light the bloody bottles, woman!’

  Faith did as she was told, her wide face flushed. ‘The rags are too wet,’ she told them. ‘They won’t light.’

  ‘Use your shirt, then!’ ordered Mace. ‘You didn’t go outside!’

  ‘But I’m not wearing anything else!’ Faith protested.

  ‘So what?’

  Faith shrugged and looked at me. I shrugged back.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ she cursed, starting to remove her top. ‘Turn round, then!’

  Prior and Mace looked away as she replaced the wet rags speedily. When she was done, she used her hands to cover up her heavy breasts. I looked over at one of the male customers and ordered him to give me his shirt. When he started to protest, I pointed at Mace, using him as a threat. The man shook his head, swore at me but did as I asked.

  ‘There!’ Faith snapped at Mace and Prior.

  I watched the men take a bottle each, both of them smirking like little boys.

  ‘Nice view . . .’ joked Mace as I handed Faith the shirt I’d been given so reluctantly.

  ‘Thanks, missy,’ said Faith, using one hand to take the garment and turning her back to the rest of us.

  ‘Can you stop being childish and deal with the problem!’ I said to Mace, who nodded sheepishly.

  ‘Crack the door open a little,’ he said, raising a blazing firebomb level with his shoulder. Tables that were being used to barricade the doors were pulled away. One of the other men, Raj, took a deep breath and then did as Mace asked. A giant hand groped through the gap, almost tearing his face off. Raj slammed the door shut again, his knees weak.

  ‘Bollocks!’

  Mace steadied himself and waited a few more seconds. The makeshift bomb threatened to go off in his hands.

  ‘You’ve got to get it right!’ I shouted from behind him. ‘If it hits the demon it’ll set light to its fur. Quick!’

  ‘I know that!’ yelled Mace. ‘I taught you about these things, remember?’

  Raj asked Mace if he was ready, took a deep breath and opened the door again. This time a canine face loomed. Mace grinned, punching the demon square on the jaw. It stumbled backwards, away from the entrance, and Mace threw his firebomb. The bottle shattered against the patroller’s head, coating its face in sticky fluid. The flaming rag licked against its fur – just above its green eyes – and in an instant its entire head was alight. The demon dropped to its knees, screaming in pain.

  ‘Now!’ hollered Mace.

  We burst into the street with a collective snarl, no longer thinking about whether we’d get caught or not. I think we knew without saying that if we let the patrollers overrun the bar, we were probably all dead anyway. Raj and Faith set about a shorter demon, using machetes to hack chunks of flesh from its body. Prior set another one on fire, before stabbing the next in the eyes repeatedly, his face slick with demon blood, his coughing ever worse. Behind them, I lit more rags and passed the bottles on. Within minutes the entrance was clear.

  Mace led the charge into the rain, splitting skulls and cleaving limbs. The firebombs had given us a big advantage, and we were winning. Between us, we dispatched the patrollers quickly and without a single injury.

  Finally I turned my attention back to Jonah and Mias, a little fearful about what I might find. I walked across the street to where Jonah had slumped to his knees. I couldn’t see Mias anywhere. As I moved closer, I saw that Jonah wasn’t moving. I called out to him and felt the same increase in air temperature as earlier.

  ‘Jonah – are you hurt?’

  Jonah lifted his head but didn’t reply. He seemed to be in a daze, eyes wide and mouth drooling. He was holding one of the black spears and turned to look at me.

  ‘Where’s Mias?’ I asked gently.

  Jonah shook his head slowly. ‘He’s gone,’ he replied. ‘Dunno where . . . hurt him.’

  I crouched and put a hand on his shoulder. Kinetic energy coursed through my arm, making the nerves tingle. I felt my face flush. A warm sensation spread in my belly and I felt elated that Jonah hadn’t been badly injured.

  ‘You need to hide,’ I said, shaking my head free of the sensations that touching him had brought. ‘Before they send more patrols. This is going to get bad.’

  And then I saw Jonah’s eyes. The pupils were dilated, the irises unfeasibly black. Something else was there too, something almost as impossible as the ring of warmth surrounding him and the defeat of an underlord at the hands of a human. A circle of orange flame flickered round the edge of each iris. I gasped . . .

  ‘Need . . . to . . . sleep . . .’

  I yelled to Mace for help and he ran over, concern etched across his face. Between us we lifted Jonah to his feet. As I looked up, I thought I saw the blinds on the first floor of the hotel twitch. I paid it no mind though. My head and heart were too full of Jonah.

  17

  AS ARON AND Oscar made their way back from work, it became apparent that things weren’t right. Torrential rain pounded streets that seemed unusually empty. Lightning crackled overhead, followed by explosions of thunder. The pavements steamed, and everywhere a tart, almost cloying aroma hung in the air. The patrols seemed to be extra aggressive, if that were possible.

  ‘Something’s wrong,’ said Aron.

  Oscar nodded; his angular, tapered eyes watching each passing patrol keenly, the rainwater dripping from his chin.

  ‘Trouble,’ he said softly.

  ‘More than just trouble,’ replied Aron, wiping water from his face.

  The industrial zone sat parallel to the protected part of the city, connected by a narrow passage of dark streets. From the sky, the layout would have resembled a figure of eight perhaps, or more accurately, two enclosed rings of similar diameter linked by a short corridor. Usually that corridor was full of workers coming and going. Today the flow was in a single direction, away from the factories.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Aron added as they passed a gang of human mercenaries standing on a corner, pensively smoking damp cigarettes and soaked to the skin.

  ‘Dunno,’ said Oscar. ‘Just keep moving.’r />
  The next patrol was demon; two half-canines supervised by a simian with dripping ginger fur and clawed hands. Oscar kept his head down but Aron managed to incur their ire, stopping to stare at them with his bright blue eyes.

  ‘Move forward, wretch!’ spat one of the half-dogs.

  ‘But you’re so pretty,’ replied Aron with a smirk.

  ‘Walk on!’ said the ape-like one. It held out a hand, showing fearsomely long daggers for fingers.

  ‘I think you might need your nails clipping,’ continued Aron, unaware that another patrol was closing in from behind.

  Oscar did see it though, and he tugged Aron by the arm. ‘Shut the hell up!’ he whispered to his friend. ‘You’re going to get us killed.’ He disliked Aron’s arrogant streak. Aron was always pushing things too far, never apologized for his actions, and seemed to enjoy trouble. More than once his big mouth had led Oscar and Tyrell to risk their lives for him. As if life wasn’t hard enough.

  ‘I’m just toying with them,’ Aron protested. ‘Relax.’

  ‘You might have a death wish,’ Oscar told him, ‘but I don’t. They’re surrounding us, you dick.’

  Aron turned and caught sight of the other patrol. A crash of thunder shook the buildings lining the street. Somewhere close by a window imploded.

  ‘So we run, then, do we?’ he asked. ‘Not me . . .’

  Oscar shook his head. ‘No weapons,’ he whispered. ‘And no support or cover. Are you insane?’

  ‘No,’ replied Aron, ‘but I’m not scared either.’

  Oscar ignored the barb, aware that he’d annoy Aron.

  ‘I’m not crapping my pants,’ Aron added, trying again to get a rise out of his companion.

  ‘You’re too obvious,’ said Oscar, ‘and it never works. You can’t wind me up – now, come on!’

  He walked on, hoping that Aron would follow and growing livid when he didn’t. Then he stopped, sighed and surveyed the scene. Things had suddenly got a lot, lot worse. Three patrollers flanked them to the rear. Further away, the mercenaries numbered four, although they wouldn’t intervene if the demons attacked Aron. It was more than their lives were worth. That left two more patrollers and the beige, wolf-like demon that looked to be in charge. Every doorway and window along the street had been barricaded, offering no escape route. Ahead of them were several more patrol units. If it kicked off, they were dead.