The demons were already on him.
Philip screamed as the first demon leapt on him, a primate-like creature with razor-sharp talons. It slashed at his chest as he struggled to get free of his rucksack.
Blood sprayed the air.
Kamiyo hurtled down the hill, praying he didn’t fall forwards and land on a spike. Without his rucksack, he felt light, and he swung his iron poker with huge force. It struck the ape-like skull of the demon attacking Philip and sent it whirling backwards down the slope. It barrelled into a group of demons behind, which bought Kamiyo some more time.
The demon had slashed Philip’s chest open, but it had also cut the strap of his rucksack. It allowed Kamiyo to free the man and pull him onto his knees.
“Come on, Philip. I need you to get up.”
Philip was dazed, the wound painful enough to shock him. Blood poured from somewhere on his upper body. If he had any chance of not dying on this slope, he needed to get moving right now. Fortunately, he seemed to realise this, as he wrapped an arm around Kamiyo’s shoulder and took a step with his support.
They made slow progress back up the hill.
The demons reorganised behind them.
Ted’s spike walls were doing a good job of keeping the demons from swarming, and they were the only reason Philip and Kamiyo weren’t dead yet.
That might change at any moment.
“Philip, come on! I need you to move faster, man.”
Philip groaned and did his best to increase speed. Kamiyo glanced back and saw demons fast approaching—not just the ape-like creatures, but the blackened and burnt corpses. He also spotted the one he had struck with the poker. It was dead, skull caved-in and smouldering.
Like when he had struck the demon with the skillet in that kitchen almost a month ago.
Kamiyo realised they wouldn’t make it. The demons were moving up the slope too fast. He shoved Philip towards the next stake wall and turned to face the first demons coming up the hill. He didn’t have time to swing his poker, so he jabbed it outwards instead, stabbing a blackened monster right through the guts. The wound smoked and smouldered, and the demon’s entire mid-section fell to ash. Kamiyo backed up the hill cautiously, swinging the poker back and forth in front of him, keeping the demons at bay. They seemed to be afraid, which was something he’d not seen before. It was like how Hannah had described the demon she’d seen in the village. These demons were showing fear, less relentless. More human. The fate of their fallen brother cowed them.
But not enough to stop them.
Kamiyo swung at another demon, and just missed crushing its jaw. It leapt back and blocked the other demons from moving up the hill. It bought Kamiyo another second, and he turned to shove Philip into the gap in the stake wall. Without his rucksack, the man slid through easily. Kamiyo was right behind him.
But as he passed through the gap, something tugged at his ankle. He looked back and spotted a demon lying on its front and clawing at his leg. It must have made a last-chance dive to keep Kamiyo from getting away. It had paid off.
Kamiyo tried to turn and use his poker, but he was too constricted halfway through the stake wall. There was no room to twist around. The demon continued pulling at his ankle while getting itself upright. Once on its feet, it would grab Kamiyo’s throat and tear off his head.
“Get the hell off me, you damn dirty monster!”
Kamiyo fell backwards, dragged by his right arm. He thought, for a second, that Philip had recovered and was helping him, but when he looked around, he saw Aymun. The man had placed the rucksacks on the ground to come and help. He yanked Kamiyo through the stake wall. The demon came with him, still clutching his ankle, but now that Kamiyo was free, he swung his poker and took the top of its head off. It slumped to the ground, lifeless.
Kamiyo glanced at the poker in his hands and wondered why it was so lethal. Aymun saw his perplexed expression and gave him his answer. “Iron. It is anathema to the damned. Come, we must hurry.”
Kamiyo and Aymun gathered Philip between them, and the two rucksacks, and clambered up the hill. Once again, it was slow going. The demons spilled through the stake wall behind them.
They reached the last stretch of ground before the portcullis, which was now raised several feet off the ground and awaiting their entrance. The demons were close behind them, which posed the risk of them rushing through the gate right behind the men. They would have to move fast to ensure that didn’t happen.
“Drop the packs,” said Kamiyo.
Aymun stared at him. “We need the supplies.”
“They’re slowing us down.”
Aymun dropped the packs, and the three men picked up speed. The gate was right ahead. They could make it. Safety beckoned.
Kamiyo’s feet slid out from beneath him, going in opposite directions. Aymun slid too, and Philip tumbled onto his hands and knees. They found themselves struggling in a sopping wet ditch.
Kamiyo smelt piss.
“What is this?” Philip asked wearily.
Kamiyo slid onto his knees. “The ground is soaked with piss. We’ll have to crawl through it.”
The three of them swam through the stinking mud, clawing their way towards dry land. The portcullis lay just ahead. It was almost close enough to reach out and grab.
Philip, wounded and losing blood, was the weak link once again. Aymun and Kamiyo had to pull the man between them.
The demons spilled into the space right behind them, but they too were taken by surprise at the suddenly perilous ground. One of the primate-demons crashed to the ground, then struggled to right itself as its limbs failed to find purchase in the piss-soaked mud. The demons behind it toppled, and a pile of writhing bodies
