Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong)

by Shaun O. McCoy

  The fire is your friend.

  He reached back to the last handhold he’d tried, not caring how tenuous it was. He clung to it with all his might and moved through the stream. The water poured over his body. His left hand slipped, and he reached out with his right, slamming it down on a jagged rock. The stone cut into his palm, but he didn’t care. He lifted himself, letting the sharp stone edge cut deeper into his hand until it caught on his bones and tendons. Finally he found another solid handhold. Shortly thereafter he was able to find a place for his feet as well.

  I’m alive, but my right hand may be useless soon.

  He made his way as quickly as possible behind the cover of the falling water. That brought him nose to nose with the groggy hellhound.

  Well hey, fucker.

  Hale turned and gave him a grim smile.

  “What now?” Pyle shouted.

  “There’s no way we can make it to the ledge with the dyitzu there,” Hale answered. “And what’s worse, we can’t make it back, either.”

  God damn.

  More rocks slid down next to Pyle. At first he thought it was Arturus at work again, but they were coming from Sinna as she scaled cliffs above them.

  She came to a point where she must have been in the dyitzu’s line of fire. She drew her Beretta pistol.

  “They’re out of range,” Pyle shouted up to her. “You’re just wasting bullets.”

  She fired anyway. Pyle couldn’t see how well she did because of the waterfall, but one of the Carrion soldiers whistled. She fired off another round. And another.

  Wait, she’s not aiming at the dyitzu.

  Her bullets were landing near where they had last seen Arturus. One the dyitzu ventured a fireball out that way.

  “Go on,” she ordered, and Pyle could hear her smile in her voice. “I’ll cover you.”

  Aaron and Johnny stood guard while Galen finished hogtying the dyitzu.

  “We’ve got to get you some pants,” Aaron told the near naked hunter.

  Johnny smiled and nodded, adjusting his ammunition belt over his boxers.

  The dyitzu was still breathing but certainly not conscious. After braining the thing with the back of his rifle, Galen has made an incision in its throat. Aaron guessed he had cut its vocal cords.

  “They’ll scatter their slaves at the first sign of trouble,” Galen was saying. “That keeps the roving bands of dyitzu off of their trail. Confuses the local hounds, too. Good news is that will work for us. Don’t shoot any of them. Trust me, they won’t attack. The only thing they’ll be interested in is finding a different priestess to protect them.”

  “What’s the dyitzu for?” Huang asked.

  Galen ignored the question. He tightened the knots around the dyitzu’s wrists enough that it was brought back to consciousness. It tried to scream, but only a slight gurgling came out of its throat.

  “It’s harder to kill a Carrion Born than it is to kill one of us,” Galen said. “Now don’t ask me why, because I won’t tell you. It is enough that you know this is true. Make sure you fire multiple shots into each target if you haven’t got them in the head. They’re armed with shotguns and pistols and that makes them strong in the close tunnels. We’re better in the big ones, but in the Carrion, we can’t afford fighting there. Try to keep your distance, nonetheless. Almost all of their shotgun rounds are going to be buckshot, so the farther back you are, the more time their volleys have to spread.”

  “Yeah but the dyitzu—”

  “Whatever you do,” Galen again ignored the hunter, “don’t shoot the priestess, or we’ll find ourselves doing this all over again. Any questions?”

  “The dyitzu?” Johnny asked, both eyebrows raised.

  Aaron answered for Galen. “It’s the first sign of trouble.”

  The hound had awakened. It growled constantly and fought against the ropes that bound it. Hale paid it no attention, his eyes fixed on the back wall. Pyle had deliberately set himself up on the ledge to be as far away from the beast as possible. Even drugged and toothless, as the hound now was, fighting with a four legged animal on a slippery stone precipice didn’t seem very promising.

  He wasn’t sure what had happened to the dyitzu. Perhaps Turi had managed to kill them, or maybe Sinna had just scared them away. Pyle didn’t care which so long as they didn’t come back with some friends. He felt extremely exposed on this ridge.

  “He’s been down there a while,” one of the Carrion soldiers shouted over the rush of the water. “Maybe we should offer him surrender. He might be willing to take it.”

  “Hell,” Pyle answered, “stay in this cavern too much longer, and I’ll be willing to surrender to him.”

  “Quiet,” Hale ordered.

  “We should send two of us out there,” Pyle suggested, ignoring the order. “Maybe we can flush him out.”

  Sinna sat perched on one of the ledge’s rocks, her knees held to her chest, arms folded over top of them.

  “I see him,” she said.

  “Where?” Pyle didn’t see any movement.

  “There, that bit of grey. Near the corner. About thirty feet over from the thin waterfall.”

  Pyle searched and searched, but his eyes had difficulty focusing. The Carrion soldiers all moved towards the edge to see.

  “Hah!” said Hale. “I think that’s a bit of his robe sticking out.”

  “Shoot beside it,” Sinna ordered. “Then we’ll ask for his surrender.”

  We’ve got you now, boy. Pinned down, nowhere to go. Will you be brave enough to kill yourself, or fool enough to surrender?

  The range was bad. Turi could probably hold out there until they got closer. But there was absolutely no chance of him getting to the exit. . .

  Pyle blinked, refocusing his eyes.

  There Turi was, at the exit.

  How in the hell?

  Sinna must just be looking at a piece of his robe.

  Pyle drew his pistol and tried to get off a shot, but the boy had made it into the tunnel already.

  “What are you doing?” Sinna screeched.

  Pyle pushed his way past the Carrion soldiers, taking special care as he stepped over the hound.

  “He just made it out,” he shouted. “You’re looking at a distraction.”

  “Impossible.” Hale kept one hand on the hound to keep it down.

  “Did anyone else see it?” Sinna demanded.

  They hadn’t.

  Pyle pointed towards the exit. “I’m telling you, I saw him.”

  “He couldn’t have gotten over there and climbed up without us noticing.” Hale’s tone, however, sounded unsure.

  Sinna stood up on her rock. “He could have. He could have climbed up behind the big waterfall.

  “But he would have had to get over that far,” Hale insisted. “How would he have done that?”

  “He must have swam it.” Sinna was visibly frustrated. “Damn. It’s like chasing a fucking Infidel Friend. Let’s move it. He may gain a little time, but not much. Besides, he’s had to spend much more energy than us. He’ll tire soon.”

  Aaron shifted in his cubbyhole, looking down into the barely lit chamber below. Still no sign of the Carrion men, though Galen had sworn they would be coming this way. On the other hand, Galen and the dyitzu were also below, somewhere in that chamber, and Aaron hadn’t seen them either.

  There were two entrances, each marked with a violet keystone topped archway. Galen hadn’t specified through which one the enemy would be coming. Aaron looked over to Johnny, who was breathing heavily through his broken nose. He looked particularly foreign with the swelling.

  I hate waiting.

  His thoughts wandered to the lock of hair he’d left behind with Kyle, Avery and Duncan.

  Johnny breathed in suddenly and turned off his safety. Aaron did likewise

  The Carrion men moved in complete silence. The first pair were soldiers in dark clothes, shotguns drawn. Grey robed figures followed them, entering the chamber in two single file lines.
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  These are the slaves Galen warned about.

  There were twenty or so of the slaves. Behind them came two more pairs of soldiers and the priestess. The priestess was the hardest to see, her black robe working as camouflage in this dark Carrion room.

  The dyitzu stumbled into view. Aaron took aim at one of the soldier’s heads. The slaves broke and ran, just as Galen had said they would, but none of the Carrion soldiers fired.

  They’re too well disciplined. They’ll hold their fire until the last second. No need to give away their position with gunfire unless they have to.

  The dyitzu fell to its knees. The Carrion soldier Aaron was aiming at dropped into a crouch, his shotgun raised. Aaron kept his sights on the man’s head, lining up the shot over the dyitzu’s shoulder.

  “One,” he said.

  Johnny Huang shifted, getting his rifle set. “Ready.”

  “Two.”

  The priestess peered around one of her soldiers, looking at the bound dyitzu.

  “Three.”

  Aaron fired, his gunshot followed almost instantaneously by Johnny’s.

  Aaron’s bullet took the Carrion man full in the face. Johnny’s shot was also a hit. Aaron pulled another round into his rifle’s chamber and fired again, hitting one in the leg. Johnny put a second bullet into his first target.

  The Carrion group ran, covering their priestess and firing back at them. One of their men supported the soldier Aaron had wounded, helping him retreat through the entrance. Aaron was surprised to see such humanity among such monsters.

  They’re brothers too, just like me and the hunters.

  A soldier came back around the corner suddenly, firing his shotgun. Aaron heard buckshot as it ricocheted about in their cubbyhole.

  Johnny cursed.

  Aaron fired again, just missing the next Carrion soldier brave enough to peek around the wall.

  “You okay, Johnny?” Aaron asked.

  “Just a little buckshot, nothing serious.”

  The next time a soldier turned the corner, Johnny got him in the shoulder.

  “They’re running!” Johnny shouted, dropping down from his perch.

  Where’s Galen?

  Aaron followed him, hoping like hell Johnny was right about their enemy’s retreat. Johnny made it to the corner and took a quick look. He jerked his head back, but no buckshot followed.

  “They’re behind a couple of stone mounds back there, take a look.”

  Aaron edged up to the entranceway.

  This is going to get me killed.

  He dared only a quick glance.

  He spotted two of the soldiers over the top of their cover. Lying against one of the stone mounds was a grey robed slave that had been shot in the crossfire. Aaron guessed that the remaining soldier and priestess were tending to the soldier he’d hit in the leg. Of course, they would have paid no attention to the wounded slave.

  Wait a minute, we didn’t shoot any slaves, did we? They didn’t shoot any slaves. . .

  He peeked around the corner again. The slave was sitting up now, an MP5 in his hands.

  Galen!

  At the first report of the Heckler and Koch, Aaron burst through the archway, Johnny in tow. Galen shot a second man down while Aaron took aim. The Carrion soldiers had turned towards Galen. Aaron’s bullet took one of them in the side of the head. Galen came to his feet, the MP5 blazing. The last of the soldiers dropped, still twitching, to the Carrion floor.

  The priestess had a pistol drawn, but she wasn’t fast enough. Galen slammed the stock of his rifle into her face. Her gun fired as she collapsed back against the stone wall. Aaron heard her bullet skipping down the corridor.

  Galen dropped his MP5 and caught the priestess’ slender wrist with his left hand, overhooking that captured limb with his right. With a sudden twist he sent the priestess to the ground, her arm twisted at an odd angle behind her, her pistol skittering across the stones. Galen let go of her arm and gave her a front kick, sending her body away from her dropped weapon. He drew a pistol from his belt, and pointed it towards Aaron. Aaron instinctively ducked away. Galen fired, the bullet whizzing between him and Johnny. Aaron looked behind him and saw the bound dyitzu drop.

  The priestess had regained some of her composure and used the wall behind her to help her stand. She drew a knife, which seemed a pitiful defense against the man before her. She threw it at Galen and then tried to kick at his groin. Galen ignored the knife, which bounced harmlessly off of his body armor, and blocked her kick with his own shin. Then, twisting his hips, he slammed that same shin into her midsection. He had kicked her every bit as hard as he had kicked the Icanizu, and the crack from his blow sounded out like a gunshot. The woman doubled over, vomiting. She screamed in pain after each retching, clutching at her ribs. Aaron thought they must be cracked.

  Galen caught her by the hair and dragged her still vomiting form back into the chamber. He tossed her beside the fallen dyitzu and placed his pistol against her cheek. Even with vomit in the corner of her mouth, Aaron had never seen a woman more beautiful, more statuesque—more vulnerable or terrified.

  “Where’s my boy?” Galen shouted.

  The pistol he held was shaking. Whether from rage, adrenaline, or from having stayed awake for several straight days, Aaron couldn’t guess.

  “Boy?” the girl’s voice was slight and sultry.

  She’s prettier than Alice.

  “The youngest picked by Maab at the ritual.” Galen leaned forward, getting inches away from her vomit flecked face.

  The girl’s wide frightened eyes narrowed suddenly. “You. . . I know you,” she whispered. “You’ve come back.”

  “The boy.” Galen’s voice was ice. “Or you die.”

  Aaron could tell the she was in awe of the warrior.

  “He was marked, by Maab,” she said, “but then he escaped. Since he’s marked, no one will take him in. He’ll have to make it to Calimay, and even she might not take him.”

  Galen leaned back away from her and looked to be considering something. “Calimay has turned against Maab?”

  “She has.”

  “Where did he run too? Where are you searching for him?”

  “I don’t know.” She swallowed. “Don’t kill me, I don’t know. I only know that Hale was sent after him.”

  “Hale?” Johnny asked.

  The priestess nodded. “La’Ferve’s apprentice.”

  Galen cursed, but Aaron didn’t recognize in what language.

  “He’s got the Lamb with him,” the priestess offered.

  Aaron and Johnny shared a look. Aaron shrugged his shoulders.

  “Lamb’s are Christians enslaved by Maab,” Galen explained. “She means that he’s being chased by Pyle.”

  “The Betrayer?” Aaron asked.

  Galen nodded.

  How? How is that man still alive?

  “Get her back to the others,” Galen ordered.

  Aaron shook his head and stood his ground. “You don’t have the slightest idea of where to look for the boy. There’s no God here. You’ll have no miracle.”

  Galen nodded. “I’m not staying behind to find Turi. With this group missing, the Carrion hunters will try and find us. They have hounds. I have to stay and make sure that they can’t pick up our trail here.”

  “You’ll fight them by yourself?” Johnny asked.

  Galen knelt on the ground and helped the priestess to her feet. She couldn’t keep her posture, and stayed bent over even when he got her standing.

  “No,” Galen said. “When they come I’ll draw the dyitzu.”

  Aaron took the priestess and passed her over to Johnny. “Then what? You’re planning to stay and look for the boy when you’ve led the Carrion men astray, aren’t you.”

  Galen nodded.

  “You know you have no chance,” Aaron pressed.

  “I don’t.”

  Aaron reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “You need to sleep. You may well end up killed.”

 
; “I still have a few hours before the hallucinations set in.”

  Johnny was shaking his head. Aaron saw where the buckshot had hit him. The hunter had some blood seeping out from his right shoulder. He was bleeding from his hand too. He had opened up some of the scabs there during the fight.

  “You’ll get yourself killed,” Johnny Huang warned Galen.

  Galen paid him no heed and retrieved his MP5. He didn’t look back as he continued walking down that corridor.

  Johnny shook his head. “If we lose him, we’re dead.”

  Aaron frowned. “We’re dead already.” He put one of the priestess’s arms over his shoulder to help her walk. “Come on princess. We’ll tend to your wounds when we get back to the others. I don’t want any fighting out of you.”

  She nodded dumbly. Her hair had clumped around the vomit in it, and some of the substance rubbed off against Aaron’s shoulder.

  “Can you walk?” he asked her.

  She didn’t seem to have heard his question but was looking to where Galen had left.

  “Miss?”

  The boom of Hale’s shotgun died away.

  “Another fucking dyitzu,” he said.

  Sinna looked at the twitching devil corpse with disinterest.

  “They’re thick around here. Real thick,” Pyle said.

  Sinna laughed melodically, though the noise sounded similar enough to a banshee’s call to make Pyle’s teeth hurt.

  “He’s leading them into us,” she said.

  Pyle considered the possibility.

  She may be right.

  “There’s a river coming up soon,” Hale said. “He could find a pack large enough for us to be in trouble.”

  Pyle’s head throbbed mercilessly, and his right hand was swelling badly around the wound he had taken in Giant’s Tunnel.

  Sinna’s little eyebrows were furrowed. She was considering the danger.

  “Keep on,” she said.

  “But Priestess—” Hale was disturbed.

  “Look, he’s bleeding very badly from his feet. His pace is much slower now. He’s paying for the swim and the climb in Giant’s Tunnel. If he leads us into a pack of dyitzu, it will be the last thing he does.”