Hell's Heroes

LA MOSES

Four days of waiting. We’re all restless and itching to go into battle. It would be easier to join one of the many wars raging around the globe than sit here and twiddle our thumbs. But as bloody as the battles are—we see and hear all about them on the constant news reports—they fall short of the apocalyptic mark. Six tunnels have been opened, but all are limited, and though millions of people have fallen to the demon invaders, the world struggles on.

I spend most of the time with my werewolves. I prefer their company to that of humans. I don’t have to think when I’m with my wolfen pack, merely growl every so often to keep them in line. I lead them on occasional forays into demon-controlled territory, so they can pull out a few zombies to snack on. But apart from those welcome diversions, we mostly rest from the sun in a tent, relax beneath the moon at night, and pant and scratch a lot.

I don’t have much contact with the others. I’ve seen Shark and Timas going from one meeting to another with a variety of politicians and army officers. They’re putting some sort of emergency campaign together, acting like we have a plan, trying to keep panic to a minimum.

Kernel and Kirilli have gathered an army of mages and Disciples. They’ve two hundred or so lined up and ready for action. Many refused to answer their call, preferring to fight the demons who’ve already crossed, defending areas and people close to their hearts. Kernel and the ex-stage magician run the volunteers ragged, testing them in every way possible, toughening and sharpening them for the mother of all battles. I don’t think it will make any real difference, but if it keeps them occupied, I guess it serves a purpose.

Finally, when I’m about to go stir-crazy, Kernel sticks his head inside my tent. “It’s time.”

I snap to attention immediately. “A new tunnel’s opening?”

“Yes. Not too far from where you used to live. On the coast.”

“It’s the big one?”

He nods soberly. “Massive. It hasn’t opened yet, but already the lights are going crazy, even from this distance.”

“Tell the others,” I mutter, the many hairs on the back of my neck rising. “And Kernel?” He stops and looks back. “It’s been nice knowing you.”

He smiles bitterly. “No, it hasn’t,” he says, and goes to summon the troops, leaving me to ready the werewolves for what will probably be our final fight.

Kernel creates a window of orange light and we step through onto a grassy cliff. The tunnel is being opened in a cave beneath, but we wanted to get all of our troops assembled on this side before facing our foes. I stride to the edge of the cliff as the rest of the mages, Disciples, and werewolves cross in orderly file. We didn’t bother bringing soldiers—they couldn’t do anything against the more powerful Demonata.

It’s a wild stretch of coastline, the water dashing against the rocks far below, a sharp drop to a quick, messy death. Rain falls steadily and winds rip in off the ocean, which stretches as far as I can see. The land is barren all around. I doubt if anyone ever lived in this beautiful but desolate spot.

I feel magic building in the air. It’s almost the same as being in the demon universe. I let animal-shaped streams of steam trickle from my fingertips and watch as they dissolve in the rain. There are thudding vibrations from deep underfoot, as if goblins or trolls were hammering drums in the bowels of the earth, in preparation for battle.

Shark and Timas have been holding a hushed conversation. Now they move away from the cliff and Timas takes up position, partially sheltered behind a jutting rock. He’s brought a stack of laptops with him and quickly sets them up. Shark stabs a few umbrellas into the earth and opens them over the technical genius to provide him with cover. Curious, I amble across to see what they’re up to.

“This isn’t the time for video games.”

Timas looks at me gravely. “No game.”

“We had an interesting debate,” Shark grunts.

“What sort of a debate?” I frown.

“About the future of the planet and what happens if we lose today.”

“And?” I cast a troubled eye over the laptops.

“My way of reckoning,” Shark says thickly, “is if we get creamed, the people of Earth are better off dead than left to the vicious devices of the Demonata. We got clearance from most of the relevant authorities, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they’d objected. Timas could have cracked the security codes.”

“Maybe,” Timas mutters. “Not definitely. It would have been an intriguing challenge, but one that it is better not to have to face.”

“What are you talking about?” I snap.

Shark taps a small camera set in the shoulder of his uniform. “Several of us are wearing cameras like this. Timas will be watching. If the demons get the better of us, he has orders to press the button.”

“What button?”

“The nuclear button,” Timas says softly.

I gape at him, then at the grim-faced Shark. “Are you trying to wind me up?”

“Don’t be a child,” Shark snarls. “You said it yourself—this is our last stand. If we fall, the planet falls. I’d rather it fell to us than them. Quicker, cleaner, more humane. And we might take some of them with us.”

“But…” My head spins. Maybe this is what Juni foresaw. Perhaps Timas won’t be able to push the button, and the task will fall to me, and that’s how I’ll destroy the world.

“What’s the alternative?” Shark asks. “Let the demons run free, torture and kill at their leisure, make slaves of those they choose to spare? We saw what happens to prisoners in Lord Loss’s castle. Do you want your friend Bo Kooniart to have to suffer that again?”

“We don’t have the right to make this call,” I whisper.

“Of course we do,” Shark says. “But even so, we ran it by the watchmen of the nuclear community. There were a lot of dissenters, but a few gave us the green light, enough to make our job a formality. Timas is hooked up to bases across the world. If we run foul of the demon army, he’ll bring this planet crashing down around us. There won’t be a cinder ball left by the time he’s finished. Let’s see the Demonata get a kick out of that!”

I stare from Shark to Timas, then nod slowly. “But only if we definitely fail,” I tell Timas. “Don’t press any buttons just because you think we’re going to lose. As long as one of us stands, keep your finger clear. Understand?”

“Affirmative,” Timas says, then sticks out an arm. As we shake hands, he says, “Give them hell, Grubbs.”

“And all the toppings,” I promise, then turn my back on the Pied Piper of nuclear destruction and pray he isn’t called upon to play the world to its doom.

Kernel’s waiting for me. “It’s open,” he says simply.

“How do we get down?” I ask.

“There’s a tunnel beneath the waterline. We jump and swim.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I sneer. “You march bravely into a lion’s den—you don’t swim to it.”

“You have a better suggestion?” he responds icily.

I stroll to the edge of the cliff. It’s a straight drop to where the waves roll in and crash against the base. The easiest way, as Kernel suggested, would be to drop and use magic to protect ourselves. Under normal circumstances, that would be our only option. But there’s so much energy in the air, we can be creative, like in the demon universe.

The memory of an old story comes to mind and I grin. Raising a hand, I gesture to the water below. It begins to bubble and spit. Then, as curious Disciples and mages gather around me, the waves part and an avenue opens, a stretch of dry land at the foot of the cliff, surrounded by towering walls of water.

“Hark at the modern-day Moses,” Kirilli says jealously. “If I could have done that in my act, I’d have been bigger than David Copperfield.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I drawl, then point my other hand at the cliff. With a low, rumbling sound, a thick chunk of rock a hundred feet to my right grinds out of the wall, forming a step twenty-five feet long, ten feet wide, a foot high. I cock a finger, and another chunk of rock slides out of the wall just beneath it, another beneath that, and so on. A staircase swiftly forms, reaching all the way down to the ocean floor.

“Will they hold?” Kirilli asks, eyeing the steps nervously.

“Only one way to find out,” I grin, then jump off the cliff and land on a step ten feet below. It doesn’t even shudder. “Hurry up,” I call to the others. “Last one down’s a rotten egg.”

They laugh, then trail down the staircase after me to the cave where the monsters are lying in wait.