Billie the Kid: The Sky Fire Chronicles Book 1 Page 13

  The prisoners fell silent.

  A tall being stepped out of the raging inferno and onto the floor of the cavern. It was over eight feet tall, towering high over the hunchback priest. The creature’s limbs and torso were long and thin and its leathery skin was a dull grey color. Two curved horns jutted from its skeletal-like skull and its wide mouth contained rows of long, wicked teeth, each several inches long. Two black orbs of nothingness surveyed its surrounding with an arrogant disinterest, as though the mortals in front of it were nothing but bugs.

  Several smaller creatures, a foot tall, climbed out of the fire in the demon’s wake. They were miniature variations of the towering monster, their master and they were equally repulsive. Their small black eyes glistened intelligently as they surveyed the chained prisoners, licking their lips—their hunger for human flesh displayed on their wicked sharp features.

  Two long strides brought the enormous demon past the hunchback to the dead man lying on the stone slab. The two guards backed away as the demon scooped up the miner by his torso with one enormous clawed hand, lifting him effortlessly to its mouth. In one massive bite, it removed the man’s head and neck down to the shoulders, spraying the prisoners in blood and gore as it tore at the man’s flesh. The smaller demons scurried to the miner’s spilt blood and eagerly lapped it up.

  A prisoner wailed and Pat wiped gore from her face, turning from the grisly scene and clenching her eyes tight. She wanted to cry, but her fear stopped her.

  “The old sheriff is next,” said the hunchback, his voice carrying over the sound of tearing flesh.

  We’re all going to die here…

  Travelling under the glow of the strange fungi, Billie made her way along the tunnels. She had no idea where she was or where she was headed.

  I’m lost.

  Periodically, other passages lead off into the dark from the larger tunnel she travelled. Pausing, she listened at these entrances, but there were no sounds coming up out of the dark—she had seen nothing since the horse chamber which now seemed like hours ago.

  This tunnel system is huge. I’ll never find my way out.

  Leaning against the tunnel wall, Billie wiped the sweat from her brow and took out her canteen, taking a swig. Her water was almost gone and so was any hope of finding Joey and getting back to their mother with a cure. Weariness seeped into her bones and she sat, relieved that the weight was off her feet.

  Joey could be anywhere. Knowing my luck, Pat has found him and they’ve already left this place. They’re probably heading back to the gully where they left me…I should’ve stay there.

  She stared off into the darkness.

  There’s no point in going on. Pat and Sheriff Bartlett will find me here…I’m too tired to go on. I’ll wait here.

  Billie stretched out her legs and pulled her hat down over her face. Her limbs felt heavy with fatigue and the desire to go on was fading fast. Sleep beckoned her and she was powerless to resist.

  Rest. Just for a few minutes…

  Footsteps echoed down the tunnel and startled Billie from a dreamless sleep. Where am I? She glanced in both directions, but the tunnel was empty. The footsteps sounded like they were getting closer. She stood and eased out the revolver from its holster. Cocking the gun, she braced herself against the rough wall, heedless of its lumpy surface digging into her back.

  Concentrating, she determined the sound was coming from further up the passage and she aimed in that direction. The fungi only illuminated a few yards ahead, giving her only seconds to react to anything coming out of the gloom.

  She became conscious of her breathing—it sounded loud in her ears. Relax… The gun barrel wavered, despite her efforts to steady it. Tense, she waited, her palms wet and clammy as she gripped the weapon.

  Please, don’t be monsters.

  Suddenly, a dark shape broke out from the blackness and sped toward her. Instinctively, her finger tightened on the trigger and she could feel energy building within her weary body. It started in her chest and tingled as it flowed down her arms.

  It’s a man!

  She released the pressure on the trigger and the energy subsided.

  The man didn’t slow and collided with Billie before she could get out of the way. The impact knocked her clean off her feet and she landed heavily on her back, gasping for air.

  Oof! The gun flew out of her hand and clanged down the tunnel and into the darkness.

  Billie scrambled to her feet, holding a hand protectively out in front. She looked for an escape, but the man was already retreating from her. He collided into the wall and dropped something. A sword. It laid between them.

  Both eyed the weapon and dove for it. Billie snatched up the weapon first and pointed it at the man’s chest. Scared, the man stumbled back and was about to flee—

  “Carter?” Billie asked. “Is that you?”

  “What?”

  It was Carter. He was covered in sweat and dirt and his clothes were stained with black blood. His wild eyes roamed the tunnel, looking for danger, before it settling back on Billie. “Don’t eat me!” he pleaded, dropping to his knees. “Please. Don’t eat me.”

  “It’s me, Billie.”

  “What?” His eye focused. “You’re the kid, aren’t you? The boy’s sister.”

  “Yes, I’m...the kid.” He’s mad, she thought. And probably dangerous. Billie had seen people go crazy before. Only a month ago, Tomski, a laborer in Deepwell, ran off mad into the hills and hadn’t been seen since. Madness was one of the many hazards of living so close to the wasteland.

  Billie stepped back and Carter watched her suspiciously. “Where’re you going, kid?”

  “I dropped my gun. I need it.”

  Carter laughed. It was a sound not suited for the darkness. It had a manic edge to it that made Billie shiver. “You don’t need a gun. We’re in hell,” he said. “This is it for us. There is no escaping for us sinners.”

  “Sheriff Bartlett will get us back home.”

  “The sheriff? I wouldn’t hold your breath, kid. These tunnels are crawling with demons. Your friends are all dead by now.”

  “Demons?” He’s mad. Billie spotted her revolver not far away and edged closer.

  Carter also saw the weapon and leapt toward it, quickly covering the distance. But Billie got there first. She snatched up the revolver and pointed it at his face, the sword forgotten in her other hand. She held the revolver steady.

  He raised his hands and backed up. “Woo there, kid. I mean you no harm.”

  “Keep back. I know how to use this.”

  “That, I know.” He stopped several yards away and lowered his hands. “I saw your lightning. You fried those bats. You’re…you’re one of them.”

  “One of who?”

  “They can smell one of their own. You’re a demon! That’s how you’ve survived in these tunnels.”

  “No, I’m—”

  Carter wasn’t hanging around to hear her answer. He turned and ran off into the darkness, leaving Billie watching him disappear into the gloom.

  He’s insane…I’m not a demon!

  Billie listened to his footsteps fade into the distance. She was alone again.

  Chapter 17

  Ignoring the mutants and the chained prisoners, the tall demon finished devouring the hapless miner’s flesh. Its powerful jaw crunched the bones noisily like it was eating dry biscuits, splashing blood over its chest. The prisoners flinched with each crunch and many whimpered as quiet as they could. No one could meet the demon’s eyes, their faces no doubt reflecting Pat’s own terror.

  It was unnerving being this close to the hideous monster, but the creature paid them no heed. The miniature demons hovered at its feet, licking up any fallen blood that spilled down their master’s legs.

  The demon paused from its feasting and everyone tensed in anticipation. Without a sound, it turned and wandered off across the chamber, chewing on a piece of the miner’s leg. The small demons scurried along behind it, picking up and
eating anything that fell from their master. Pat unclenched her fists, watching the tall demon duck its head and disappear into a nearby side tunnel.

  The two guards moved to the unconscious sheriff, unchaining him and man-handling him to his feet. Bartlett’s hat fell from his head, exposing a long gash across his forehead. He hung limply, unaware of his own fate as the men dragged him to the blood-covered altar.

  “Please. Don’t do this,” said Pat.

  “Why?” asked the twisted priest. “Are you impatient for your turn on the stone? I am sure I will summon one of the ancient ones with your blood. Maybe even him...”

  The guards dropped Bartlett onto the altar and he laid motionless in the miner’s blood and gore. Pat had known him only a few days…to die like this wasn’t right. She looked at her fellow prisoners. They froze with fear, their eyes wide and watchful of the events unfolding.

  We’ll all end up on that altar.

  She glanced at the chains at her wrists. I could use my gift and open these manacles, but how far would I get? And what about Roberts and the others? They’ll die here for sure. Pat glanced over at the old marshal. He was watching her. Is he thinking the same thing? No. He’s looking…over there.

  Robert’s yellow eyes focused somewhere off in the distance. Pat turned, but couldn’t see far through the high wall of flames. There was nothing in the chamber except the cave imps shovelling sky rocks into the fire.

  What’s he looking at?

  The priest stood next to the altar, closing his eyes to compose himself. After a few moments, his eyes flicked open and he raised a dagger above Bartlett’s chest.

  I’m sorry I can’t help you—

  It was at that moment that Bartlett came out of his stupor. “What?!” He sat up and tried to get off the altar. The guards were on him in an instant, forcing him back down.

  “The dark gods thank you for your sacrifice,” said the hunchback, addressing Bartlett.

  “Go to Jericho, you ass.”

  “I have. Diis quos ego placabo hostiis in tenebris, nominis.” The priest drove the dagger into Bartlett’s chest.

  “Arghhh!” Bartlett clenched his teeth and closed his eyes as the priest dragged the blade down his trembling body.

  No! Please. Make it stop!

  Blue lightning arced through the air closely followed by a loud thunder clap, which echoed around the cavern. The lightning struck the hunchback in the chest and blew him off his feet. He sailed several yards through the air and struck the cavern wall hard. His limp body dropped to the ground, the dagger falling from his fingers.

  The next few seconds were filled with stunned silence. No one moved or spoke as they all processed what had happened. Then all hell broke loose. The imps were the first to react. They dropped their shovels and leapt toward the far end of the cavern, screaming as they ran. The sound was unearthly and terrified all that heard it.

  Blue lightning flashed in rapid succession. Demons cried out in pain, adding to the noise of the demonic war cries.

  BOOM!

  Pat turned. One of the mutant guards had drawn his revolver and was firing at an intruder across the cavern. At that distance, it would be an impossible shot—regardless, the guard cocked his revolver and took aim again.

  Roberts appeared behind the gunman and drove the priest’s dagger deep into the mutant’s back. He withdrew the dagger as the surprised guard spun to face him, but he was too slow. Roberts drove the dagger into the man’s scaly throat, slicing open flesh and splashing crimson over his hand. The guard wavered for a few seconds before he collapsed, the gun bouncing away from the chained prisoners.

  Roberts moved forward to retrieve the dagger which was still sticking out of the dead guard’s throat, but it was out of his reach. Unable to assist, Pat watched helplessly as Roberts grabbed the dead man’s legs and started pulling him closer.

  “Garrett, if you could help with our bonds.” In the chaos, the marshal’s voice sounded calm.

  Bonds? Yes, the chains.

  Pat placed her hand over the lock at her wrist and concentrated. A moment later, she was rewarded with a faint click and the locking mechanism sprung open.

  Roberts had pulled the dead guard closer and reached for the bloody dagger when a heavy body slammed into him, knocking him into the wall. The clawed mutant crouched on Roberts’ chest and slashed at him with taloned hands.

  No you don’t.

  Pat leapt at the mutant, hooking her forearm around his neck and pulled back hard, trying to strangle him. She hung on tight, using her long legs to arch backward, pulling at the mutant’s neck. The mutant responded by driving an elbow into her ribs, breaking her grip and knocking the wind from her. Pat staggered from the blow, tripping on the dead guard and falling onto her back.

  The air was alive with the roar of combat. People cried in anguish as demons howled from pleasure or pain. Three cave imps leapt past Pat, still prone on the ground, and fell on the chained prisoners. Their claws flicked streams of blood into the air as they slashed at the helpless people. Pleading screams filled the air, forcing Pat into action.

  No you don’t!

  Pat scrambled to her feet, her hand brushing against metal. It was the fallen revolver—a long-barrelled Colt. In an instant, it was in her hand and she quickly assessed the situation. Through the confusion of attacking demons and prisoners fighting for their lives, she squeezed the trigger three times. The revolver bucked in her hand and the imps’ heads exploded, spraying demon brain matter into the air. Their lifeless bodies dropped where they stood.

  The clawed mutant stopped his attack on Roberts, focusing on her. Pat swung the gun around, but before she could cock the hammer, the marshal scooped up the dagger from the fallen man and drove it into the side of the clawed mutant’s neck. Wide-eyed, the dying guard made a gurgling sound before falling face first onto the ground.

  “The hunchback! He’s getting away!” shouted Pat as the robed priest disappeared down a nearby tunnel.

  “We have no time for him. Free everyone before more come.”

  Pat handed Roberts the revolver and released his chains. The old marshal moved to the scaly mutant’s body and searched it for ammo. He reloaded the revolver while Pat went to work freeing the other prisoners.

  Joseph had miraculously survived the imps’ attacks, along with four others. The rest had unfortunately been butchered. The survivors were in poor condition. There seemed little hope they had the strength to make it out of these tunnels alive.

  What now?

  “Where’s Billie?” asked Joseph as she unlocked his chains.

  “Don’t worry. I think she’s near.”

  Chapter 18

  Yellow saliva dripped from the imps’ mouths in long, sticky threads as their black, soulless eyes glared hungrily at Billie. Her revolver wavered in her hand as she held it out in front. Half a dozen demons littered the surrounding ground, blue smoke drifting off their charred bodies. The remaining imps were wary—the lightning made them hesitant to attack. But how long would their fear hold them back?

  Now, I’m in trouble.

  Billie glanced at the Peacemaker in her hands. A fine blue strand of smoke trailed out of its barrel. This gun looked no different than any other…it was Karl Stein’s old gun. The gun was empty now—she had fired all six of its bullets. First, shooting the priest as he stood over Sheriff Bartlett on the altar and then, the demons tending the inferno.

  She cursed herself for her hesitancy to shoot the priest. It had resulted in Bartlett’s death. Billie had frozen, she had never shot a man before—was the hunchback priest even human? The dagger plunged into Bartlett’s chest and her fear had been replaced by anger. She opened fire and thankfully the lightning had come.

  Was this lightning magic? Magic was heresy, a mark of the devil. Am I a witch? Will I burn for this?

  Not taking her eyes off the demons in front of her, Billie retreated. She swapped the revolver in her hands and carefully drew Carter’s short sword from her belt. A
ny sudden movement may cause the demons to attack.

  The intense heat at Billie’s back told her she was near the inferno. Good. The fire would stop the demons from surrounding her. She stepped back again, but this time the imps edged forward, spreading out as they moved in.

  Maybe they’re not dumb.

  Flames flared at Billie’s back, momentarily drawing her attention, and the imps surged forward.

  “No!” Billie waved the gun like a wand. “Keep back.”

  The imps ignore her, continuing to creep forward.

  “Back!”

  They shuffled forward again and then one imp broke into a run.

  Crap!

  Billie turned and sprinted for the exit, hoping to lose them in the dark.

  BOOM!

  A demon squealed.

  BOOM! BOOM!

  Billie chanced a glance over her shoulder. A group of people skirted the fire and were headed her way. Pat Garrett, half a head taller than the others, led the group. She dragged a boy by his hand, firing a revolver as she ran—seemingly without taking aim.

  BOOM! Her gun thundered and an imp jerked back, its head exploding like a melon. The headless corpse fell, stopping not far from Billie’s feet.

  Help is here!

  Billie spun to face her pursuers, raising the sword, but the imps had stopped. With the ex-prisoners joining Billie, the humans were now a sizeable force—causing the remaining few imps to reconsider their odds.

  Joey!

  With the aid of Roberts, Joseph limped along as fast as he could, his face wincing with every step.

  “Billie, are you all right?” asked Pat, stopping in front of her and gripping her shoulder firmly.

  Billie nodded.

  “Good. Let’s get out of here—”

  Then from across the fire chamber, a horde of screaming demons poured out of multiple tunnels. They were repulsive beings of all shapes, colors and sizes. Quickly, they formed into a solid wall of snarling, hateful flesh.

  A shadow fell across the horde as a massive bull-like demon stepped out of a tunnel, its massive form towering over the lesser creatures. Its chest was as broad as a wagon and its arms and neck were corded with thick muscles. Two horns as round as a man’s arm curled out from the sides of its enormous bull-like head. The lesser demons parted, allowing the colossus through to the front rank. They surged forward, flowing around the bull-demon’s thick fur-covered legs like water.