Raymond had already set up the last explosive on the arch of their own tunnel and now sat slumped against the wall next to Jet. “I thought it might be helpful if that was already done when you got back,” he said.
“Good on you, Inspector. Can you walk?”
Raymond rose to his feet. “Enough. Jet, however—”
“Arnett and I will carry him. We need to get away from here before the demons notice us.” He hoisted the injured man to his feet and beckoned Arnett over to help him.
As if on cue, the sounds of crumbling concrete and furious reptilian shrieks filled the air.
“Move,” Brannigan said.
The creatures were still disoriented and hadn’t located them yet, but Brannigan knew that once they realized all other paths were gone, they would flood down this one like a tide of teeth and claws. They needed to put distance between them and the entrance so they could blow it before that happened. He heard at least one creature shuffling around at the entrance to the tunnel.
Damn. It’s too soon. He gritted his teeth. “Heads up, I’m blowing the tunnel now.” He passed Jet off entirely to Arnett who almost dropped the man. He fumbled around in his pouch and pulled out the detonator. His thumb jammed the button. The explosion knocked them all off their feet. He heard the structure crumble, and the one creature’s shriek was cut short underneath the cave in.
Brannigan spat out a mouth of sewer sludge and vomited into the waste. He heard the others doing the same. One last thing, he thought. His pouch had slid into the water. It was empty now, save for the last detonator. He reached in and pulled it out, flicking open the button cover in the process.
“So long, you poor little bastards,” he said, pressing the button and waiting for the explosion. The sound was drowned out by the immediate sound of rushing water. Brannigan grinned at the success of his plan. He heard the confused cries of the demons cut short by the merciless flood of sea water.
“We did it,” Arnett said.
Brannigan nodded. “I sent the signal to our ships to monitor the gate past the retaining wall. Anything that tries to get out will get blown straight to hell.”
The sound of multiple footsteps splashing through the water and coming towards them made them all tense. Four figures emerged from the darkness of the tunnel.
“You,” Raymond said, whipping his revolver up in front of him.
Jia Ming, her hair now a bright red, flanked by three armored soldiers stood in their path, blocking the way back to their exit. “Hello, murderer,” she said. “Thank you for packaging my creatures so nicely.”
“Drop your weapons.” The soldiers all had their weapons primed and aimed at them. Brannigan cursed letting his guard down, even for a second. He slowly lowered Jet to the ground before standing back up with his hands raised above his head. Arnett followed suit.
“I tried to tell you before,” Raymond said, “your sister chose her own death. I tried to save her.”
The woman’s look of contempt darkened into a black fury. “She died on your watch. That puts you at fault all the same, old man.” She raised her pistol and aimed it at his chest. “My soldiers asked you to drop your weapon.”
“They won’t kill me,” he said. “That wouldn’t get you your revenge.” He smiled. “Vendettas are rather predictable I’m afraid.”
Jia Ming let out a hearty laugh. She squeezed the trigger, blowing a hole right through Raymond’s lower abdomen. His mouth gaped in surprise and then contorted in agony. He dropped down to one knee and spat blood into the water.
Jia Ming loomed over him, her gun pointed at the top of his head. “Do you feel that? That pain is nothing like what I experienced when I lost my sister, my twin,” she said. “I can’t give you that, but I will make you suffer.”
“Too close,” Raymond muttered.
“What was that?”
“I said, ‘you’re too close’,” Raymond said. He reached up to grab her gun and jerked it to the side just as she pulled the trigger. Using her surprise to his advantage, he spun her around in front of him and torqued her wrist, making her drop the pistol. Her soldiers all redirected their guns at him.
“You would shoot her?” he asked them.
That was all the opening Brannigan needed. He scooped up his rifle and opened fire at what appeared to be the weakest part of the soldier’s gear, the legs. The three men went down with cries of pain, dropping their weapons in the process. Brannigan rushed past Raymond and finished off each of the soldiers one at a time. He turned to Raymond, whose blood was spilling in a heavy flow down his stomach onto Jia Ming and into the sewer water at his feet. It was taking everything in his power to hold the woman in place, his revolver pressed against her head.
“Finish her off, and let’s get you to a hospital,” Brannigan said.
“No,” Raymond grunted, “she comes with us. She gets,” he took a labored breath, “a trial.”
“Damn it, man,” Brannigan said, “we can’t carry you, Jet, and her.”
“I’ve got her,” Raymond said, his grip loosening.
Brannigan saw it happening but couldn’t react fast enough. Raymond’s grip slipped just long enough for Jia Ming to break free. She dove for her pistol, rolled onto her back and fired four times directly into Raymond’s chest. Brannigan squeezed the trigger of his rifle and a burst of gunfire sprayed Jia Ming, her body rattling with the impact.
Raymond fell face-first into the sludge: dead.
“We’ll see you in hell,” Jia Ming said, her crimson
