Satisfied that Frank was in charge, Hannah raced into the castle to retrieve her weapon. She had only seven rounds in the mag, but it would be seven guaranteed dead demons. She would make every shot count.
The Great Hall was empty, which made the fire blazing in the hearth oddly disquieting.
“Help me, please!”
Hannah halted. The voice was muffled, coming from beneath her. The dungeon.
“I need help. I’m hurt.”
It sounded like Nathan and seeing how he was only one of two people being kept in the dungeon, she didn’t see how she could be mistaken. The boy was a killer—possibly a psychopath—but he was also just a kid. If he was hurt, she couldn’t ignore him.
She grunted in frustration and then headed for the castle’s staircase and headed for the dungeon.
Nathan continued shouting. “He’s crazy. Keep him away from me.”
Shit! Vamps must have gotten loose. The prisoners were tethered to an iron hoop on the wall but, lacking handcuffs, they had been forced to use nylon rigging from one of the lake’s sailboats. It was possible Vamps had got himself free.
She pulled the Ka-Bar from her belt, its weight immediately reassuring her. Nathan had gone quiet now, merely sobbing to himself.
The dungeon was dark, lit by a collection of candles in the centre of the room. Shadows flickered and danced on the walls and ceiling. Nathan huddled in the corner.
She went over to the boy.
“Nathan? What’s happened?”
“Help me, I’m hurt!”
She hurried over to the boy. His forehead rested against the wall, and he was completely still. It felt odd. Wrong.
“Help me, help me, help me, help me.”
“Nathan, stop! Just tell me what’s—” She put a hand on the boy and turned him around to face her. His face was covered in blood, and he was unconscious.
So how had he been calling out for help?
Hannah sensed a presence to her right, and she turned just in time to see something slice through the shadows.
Vamps struck Hannah in the side of the head and sent her to the floor. She tried to get back up, but he kicked her ribs and sent the air rushing from her lungs. She clambered through the dark, trying to find safety, and then she realised she still held the Ka-Bar knife.
Vamps stalked her, but she flipped onto her back and sliced at the air. The tip of the large military knife caught Vamps under the knee, and he withdrew with a hiss before the shadows swallowed him up.
Hannah blinked and strained her eyes, trying to see in the dark. Vamps flickered in and out of view, but mostly he dissolved out of sight.
“Help me!” cried Nathan, although the voice came not from the boy who remained slumped in the corner. It was Vamps, using Nathan’s voice in mockery. “Help me, please!”
“Fuck you, man. You’re gunna die, I promise you.”
“Death holds little meaning to that which is eternal. For you, it means endless suffering in the darkest corners of the Abyss.”
“Sounds lovely. I need a holiday.”
Vamps shifted in and out of the shadows, his eyes oily and his jaws full of wickedly sharp teeth. “Your petulance will fade with your screams. You think these walls will protect you? Even now, a gate opens in your midst, and my faithful Fallen shall crush you like ants.”
The pain in Hannah’s ribs became bearable, and she scrambled to her feet. She searched for Vamps in the dark, but he was nowhere. His presence strangulated the air itself, but all she saw were shadows.
What had he meant? A gate was opening? Did he mean the one beneath the lake?
And what of the Fallen?
Hannah took a step, wondering if Vamps had truly left, or if he was about to leap out at her. The dungeon was still, the shadows themselves seeming to freeze. The candles were the only thing moving, their tiny flames waving in an invisible breeze.
Then the candles blinked out.
“Oh shit!”
Hannah went for the stairs, but a white-hot pain gripped her stomach. She gasped but struggled to make another sound after that. Her fingertips moved to her middle and sank into wetness. She was bleeding. Badly.
Vamps emerged from the darkness, his eyes shining like the surface of pennies. “Enjoy the darkness, for it shall last forever.”
Hannah slumped to her knees, feeling her life slip away.
46
TED
The demons were everywhere, spilling out of the trees from all directions. The front approach was the castle’s most secure front, with the stake walls and trench keeping the demons bunched up and helpless. Teenagers loosed arrows constantly, gaining confidence with every shot. Frank barked commands at them, keeping them all focused.
It was the rear approach that gave Ted concern. They had set up no fortifications there, and the wooden sally port was weaker than the iron portcullis on the opposite side. There was also that huge, skeletal monster. Ted would advise Hannah to locate the thing and bury whatever rounds she had left into its skull.
But where was Hannah?
She’d been gone too long. He rifle was stowed in the pantry which was right inside the castle. She should have returned before he’d even noticed she was gone.
Ted fired off the last brads he had left in his nail gun, then tossed the power tool aside. Several teenagers joined him at the wall and were burying arrows into the lines of demons hammering at the walls—but it wasn’t enough. They would run out of arrows long before the enemy ran out of demons. They needed to do more damage.
Ted decided it was time to test his invention.
He ran down the steps, trying not to look at Steven’s corpse, and headed for the
