The Texan and the Egyptian: The Sky Fire Chronicles Page 3

  “Shit…”

  “You cannot save the high priestess, Yankee,” said the demon, its deep voice sounded like thunder in the enclosed area. “I will kill you first, then I will consume the priestess’s soul.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you people? I’m not a Yankee!” Sullivan lurched forward, slashing down with the sword in a two-handed strike.

  Quicker than humanly possible, the demon side-stepped the sword attack and the blade smashed into a timber crate, sending wood chips into the air. The demon raised a large clawed paw and backhanded Sullivan, sending him sailing through the air to crash into a barrel. He groaned as he slid to the ground.

  “Soon, your world will be ours,” said the demon. “To do with as we want.” It smiled cruelly, exposing its long wicked fangs in a hideous wide mouth.

  “Me and Mister Colt have something to say about that.” Sullivan had recovered his revolver beside the barrel, aiming it at the towering monster.

  BOOM!

  The shot rang out. Sullivan was pleased, he was confident he hit the demon in the head—but it didn’t fall. It just stared back at him with its black, soulless eyes. The demon roared in anger and in two long strides, made it to the prone man. Its clawed hand grabbed his shirt, lifting him until they were face to face. The Texan’s feet dangled in the air.

  “You fool,” roared the demon, foul spittle landing on Sullivan’s face. Its breath was putrid. “Only iron can hurt one of the chosen!”

  “You mean like this?” Sullivan still held the scimitar and drove it up under the demon’s chin with all his strength, until the tip of the blade burst out of the back of the demon’s neck.

  The hell-spawn creature staggered back, dropping Sullivan as it released its grip on the man’s shirt. It clawed at the sword protruding from its neck as it dropped to its knees. Black blood spewed from its mouth, running down its massive chest and onto the floor. It reached out to Sullivan, but the man sprang back from the clawed hand. Slowly, the demon fell forward, crashing face first into the floor.

  Sullivan slumped against a barrel, staring in disbelief at the hideous creature lying in a spreading pool of its own black blood.

  “Join the army, they said. It’ll make a man of you, they said. Not one person mentioned goddamned demons when I enlisted!”

  He bent down and retrieved his dropped revolver and, as was his habit, he reloaded it—all the while, his eyes never left the twitching demon. After several long moments, the demon stopped moving and an eerie stillness settled over the cargo hull.

  Hesitantly, he removed the sword from the creature’s neck and cleaned its thick tar-like blood off the blade. He had a feeling he still might need it.

  Sullivan gathered the body of Ahmed and laid a blanket over him reverently. He stood silently beside the boy for some time, not knowing what to say as he was not a man of the church.

  Were Ahmed and the others the first victims of a new type of war? He had a bad feeling that the demon’s death was not the end.

  After testing the weight of the sword by swinging it through the air, the Texan climbed the ladder to the deck above, prepared to face whatever awaited him.

  Epilogue

  Blood dripped from the curved sword onto the wet deck as the Texan leaned heavily on a handrail, watching the sun rising above the horizon. It had been a long night, but the possessed crewmen had all been put to rest. The captain had assisted in the culling and now was down below, checking the damage to his cargo. Sullivan didn’t care if the guns for the Confederate States were undamaged or not, he only wanted to rest.

  His mind wandered back to the small boy lying below the deck, and the demon that killed him. What did that thing say? Our world will be theirs? What in heaven’s name does that mean?

  “You fought bravely, Sollivon.”

  Holding the sword limply, he turned to face Merneith, the high priestess. She looked the same as she did last night, regal in her white dress, and truly beautiful to the weary soldier. He had no doubt, she was going to be trouble.

  “You have some questions to answer,” he said.

  “In time, Sollivon. In time.”

  He drove the sword tip into the decking and it stood there quivering slightly. He removed his hat and smoothed back his sweaty hair with a calloused hand. His eyes studied her features. “I need to know what all this means. Why did these good men die here?”

  “The old gods battle each other for control of the heavens and it goes badly for the virtuous. Their endless war spills onto our earth, turning our world into their last battleground.” She studied his reaction, but saw none. “The dark gods send their spies, like this demon, to delay and kill the faithful. It was hunting me.

  “These dark servants try to open gateways into our realm, so their demonic armies can pour in and feast on our souls, defeating the just gods. If we do not fight back, it is only a matter of time when the dark gods triumph and walk freely under our sky.”

  Gods? Demons? “Shit, lady, they’ve just met their first Texan and it went badly for them. There’s thousands of us back home.”

  Merneith looked unsure of what he meant, but she said nothing.

  “What happened to my friends?”

  “They were possessed. We call them, uwnadd, slaves of the dark gods.”

  “What now?”

  “You take me to Lincoln.”

  “No way, lady. The Yankees will shoot me on sight.”

  “I must talk to your country’s leaders. Your people must unite if they are to defeat what is coming. The stars say the first demon gate will be in the south—”

  “The south?!”

  “My poor servant, Ahmed, is dead. It will please me if you serve in his stead.”

  “Now look here, lady, as soon as we get off this tub, you and me are parting company for good.”

  “The stars say you will serve, and they are never wrong.”

  I hope they are wrong this time. Demon gates in the south… “All right, but after I take you to Lincoln, we part company.”

  Merneith raised her face to the sky, seeing the white gulls floating high above the ship. Their presence was a good sign—the weather would be favorable today.

  She smiled. “If that is what the gods wish.”

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