The Eye of Minds

^{CHAPTER 18} THE FEET OF ANCESTORS

Michael had to survive the Path to get to Kaine. And he wasn’t going to let these demons kill him and end his only chance.

“You’re insane,” the man said to him through clenched jaws. “You don’t understand what you’re—”

Michael choked off his words with a tighter squeeze. “Shut up.”

The monstrous creatures had stopped their approach. They stood, hunched and twisted, around the room, every one a nightmarish sight, only moments from attack.

“Michael,” Sarah whispered. She seemed to reconsider what she’d been about to say. “Just…” She raised her voice. “Just make sure you kill him quick when you do it. Break his neck nice and clean.”

Michael fought to hold back a grimace. “Will do.”

He backed toward the door, dragging Skale along as the man struggled to stay on his feet.

“Don’t think I won’t do it!” Michael yelled at the demons. “You let us go and I’ll set him free—otherwise he dies!”

It seemed absurd, but just as they had in their animal forms, the creatures seemed to understand him. A low rumble began to fill the room, a deep growl from the terrifying group, and with every step Michael took backward, they stepped forward.

He glanced back at the door and saw that the two demons guarding it had actually moved to allow a path to the exit. The smallest kernel of hope sprang up—so far his plan was working.

“Don’t come after me,” Michael warned when he reached the door. Skale struggled to free himself from Michael’s hold, but Michael squeezed tighter and he stopped.

Michael backed out the door into the dark, perpetual night with Sarah at his side. As they inched away from the building, he turned to her.

“Get him to talk,” he said.

Sarah nodded. “You said you knew how to get to the Hallowed Ravine. How do we do it? Does the Path continue from here?”

“I’ll tell you nothing,” Skale said through struggling breaths. “For your sake, not mine. Nothing.”

The demons had gathered at the door, their glistening, bloody bodies packed closely together, staring out at the three humans. Those yellow eyes gleamed with anger, and Michael thought he saw doubt welling up in them as well.

“Talk!” Michael yelled. “Talk or you’re going back to the Wake!” He shook the man as he spoke and heard him gag the slightest bit.

But Skale said nothing. Panic lit up inside Michael. He was bluffing, that was the problem. What good would a dead Skale do them?

Michael didn’t know what else to do. He started dragging Skale farther away from the house. The man was heavy, and Michael’s muscles ached from the strain. Sarah stayed beside him, nervously looking from the demons to Skale and Michael.

“What’re we gonna do?” she whispered.

Michael didn’t answer, searching the area for something, anything, to spark an idea. On the far side of the long, dilapidated building, he noticed a separate entrance and a large sign above it that read, CHAPEL OF OUR FOREBEARERS. He changed direction to head that way, intuition driving him. Skale had said something about kneeling before their ancestors.

The old man kicked and struggled in Michael’s grasp. He stopped, hoping to get a better grip on the man, and looked up to see that just a few dozen feet away the demons had begun to come through the door. One by one they entered the night, the glow of the moon lighting up their raw bodies and their bright eyes. Growls and snarls and shrieks echoed through the air.

“Talk!” Michael yelled at his captive, shaking him again. The man’s pale eyes peered up at him, and there was determination there. He wasn’t going to tell Michael anything, and Michael knew it. The man would rather die.

“Michael,” Sarah whispered.

He looked up, saw the demons heading their way, faster now. One of them screamed, a high-pitched sound that ripped through the air—somewhere nearby Michael heard glass shatter.

He gazed down one last time at Skale, who was staring back. And then Michael gave up. He released him and the man fell to the ground. The great and mighty Gunner Skale.

Choking for air, Skale scrambled away and stood. “Kill them!” he shrieked. “Rip and slay them!”

Sarah grabbed Michael by the arm and they both took off running, heading for the chapel.

The demons roared as one and charged after them.

The door was open.

Michael slammed it shut behind them. “Find something to block it!”

Sarah was already dragging a desk. He ran over to help her, pushed it from behind. It made a horrible noise as its feet scraped across the wooden floor, but they didn’t stop until they’d rammed it against the door. Two seconds later the demons hit the other side of the door and started beating on it.

Michael backed away, scanning left and right to see what they had to work with. The chapel was small and ordinary—a dozen or so rows of pews divided by an aisle down the middle, which led to an altar. Beyond that were statues of people of all ages and sizes, carved from white marble, standing on a dais. Their eyes seemed to stare at Michael. Forebearers. Ancestors.

Michael noticed with a wash of horror that there were several stained-glass windows set into the walls around them. The demons didn’t need the door.

“The altar,” Sarah said to him, surprisingly calm. “The altar. Come on!” She headed up the aisle, and Michael quickly fell into step right beside her.

“He said to kneel. What then?”

Before she could answer, all the windows exploded inward at the same time, followed by the screams and shrieks and growls of the demons.

Michael and Sarah sprinted for the altar.

Glass tore at the demons’ bodies as they poured in through the windows, but they didn’t slow. Michael focused on the altar, just a few feet away now.

“Hurry!” Sarah yelled.

So many sounds filled the room, so much movement. In mere seconds the whole horde of monsters would be on top of them. They reached the altar and clasped hands, dropped to their knees. Michael felt the softness of a pad that had been set there, felt it give a little beneath his weight.

But nothing happened.

He should’ve known—just kneeling wasn’t enough.

They had to look at the code to get out.

A winged creature swooped in and knocked Michael backward, sending Sarah to the ground as well. The hideous monster flapped its wings, hovering right above their chests, and Michael saw that it was the goose demon, two words he’d never imagined could be used together. Its bloody beak parted and a horrific, shrill cry tore through the chapel, shattering the glass that still clung to the window frames.

Michael arched his back and kicked out, connecting with the demon’s body, slamming it into a pew, where it fell to the floor, still.

A claw closed on Michael’s shoulder and lifted him to his feet, spun him around to face a nightmare come to life. Huge jaws opened, filled with daggerlike teeth. Sarah was next to him, punching to get free from her own demon attacker.

The creature holding Michael pulled him in close until their noses almost touched. The smell was awful, a mix of rotting food and garbage dumps and decaying bodies. Michael gagged as the foul stench wafted across his face.

It was the bear. Tall enough, strong enough. It had to be the bear.

Michael stared into the monster’s eyes and terror froze him stiff—all but his heart, which beat so rapidly he thought it might crack through his rib cage.

He had no idea what to do.

Something tackled them from the right. Michael and the demon crashed to the ground and its grip on him was torn free. Michael twisted around, saw that it was Sarah—she was punching at the bear demon with all her might. A quick glance to where she’d been showed that somehow she’d killed the creature that had attacked her.

Michael turned, faced the bear, and knew they couldn’t beat it. Not without help. He closed his eyes and focused on the code, ignoring the storm of complexity swirling around him. He strained to put it aside, concentrated on his own self, his Aura, his history in the Sleep. He grabbed for the first thing that revealed itself, Fire Disks from The Realms of Rasputin, snatched the programming, pulled it into the chapel. He would never have been able to do it if he’d thought too much—acting on instinct, he suddenly had glowing, fiery saucers hovering about him. With a thought he unleashed them, threw them all at the bear’s body.

The beast roared as its flesh bubbled up and burned. Sarah scrambled away and got to her feet next to Michael. Bellowing, the injured bear rolled onto all fours, lumbered to the wall, and stood up. Michael spun in a circle—the demons were closing in from all directions.

He knew that somehow the altar had a weak spot in the code and was just a few feet away. A glance over his shoulder showed that a small demon stood on top of it—the squirrel, or maybe the ferret-rat-weasel that had perched on Gunner Skale’s shoulder. It hissed at them, baring its tiny fangs.

Michael and Sarah stood shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped, slowly backing their way toward the kneeling pad. The noose of demons was tightening.

“You work on the code,” Michael whispered. “Find the sweet spot. I’ll fight them off with more Fire Disks.” He said it even though he had no idea how long he could last.

“Okay,” Sarah replied. “Guide me.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hand even tighter. Michael moved back another step. Then he conjured up another array of the disks and threw them randomly in all directions.

Demons roared in pain, and Michael threw away all caution. Yanking on Sarah, he turned and dove toward the base of the altar. They hit the floor and slid two feet, coming up just short of the pad. Sarah had somehow kept her eyes closed, staying focused on her task, searching the code that surrounded them. Michael held tightly to her hand, guiding her forward. Then the little demon on the altar shrieked and dove at Sarah—its feet tangling in her hair as it clawed at her face and tried to bite her ear. She didn’t respond. Michael reached for the creature, grabbed it, and threw the thing as hard as he could.

“I’ve got it!” Sarah yelled, her eyes flying open. “I know what to do!”

But the demons were everywhere. One grabbed Michael’s arm, another his leg. One had Sarah by the hair—he could hear her scream as the creature yanked her head back. Michael fought to get loose, losing his tenuous grasp on the Fire Disk coding. The creatures were all around. Grabbing and clawing and biting. There was a terrifying moment where he almost gave up, almost decided to let them kill him and end it all. Go back to the Wake and accept the consequences.

But something inside him exploded. A roar tore through his throat and adrenaline detonated inside his muscles. Screaming in fury, Michael beat away the creatures. For the briefest moment he saw fear in all those yellow eyes surrounding him, and it gave him even more courage.

He knocked a huge beast off of Sarah. She was bruised, and blood smeared her face. He lifted her up and carried her past the kneeling pad and the altar to the dais with the statues of ancestors.

No words were needed. Michael closed his eyes and linked with the code, sensed Sarah’s presence already there. She’d set it all up, laid it out before him. In a swarming sea of numbers and letters and symbols, he saw it—the tiniest sliver of an escape. Both of them went for it at the same time.

The demons came at them, their digital forms as terrifying as their visual manifestations. A claw scratched Michael down his back. A monster on four legs—the dog or the fox—jumped onto the altar, snarling. Michael felt himself being yanked from his position, but he flexed all his digital muscles and forced his body to stay put. For one more second, just one more. He input a final piece of code and there was a popping sound.

Then it all disappeared.