Chapter 39
Somewhere in there, Arthur lived. It took Haatim a second to pinpoint him, but he could feel his spirit a ways inside. He felt empty, vacuous, but not dead. Or, at least, not eliminated and destroyed.
He stuck out in the tunnel, being the only non-demonic energy, and once Haatim located him, it proved easy to lock on. Though he sensed no bodily form on that side of the portal, only energy, Haatim knew it as Arthur despite never having met the man before.
There he was.
Abigail had made it her life’s mission to bring him back since the day he had met her. It consumed her, knowing that he stayed trapped down here, lost in Surgat’s hell and tortured for crimes he had committed.
Though not her fault, convincing her of that proved an impossible task. The only reason she had come out here to Raven’s Peak to face Nida was because the demon had tricked her into believing she could rescue her mentor from hell.
A thing she had no capability of doing, which the demon knew.
But …
Maybe he could.
Haatim hesitated, watching the silver ring close in on itself. He had, maybe, fifteen seconds before it sealed completely and his only chance to cross over disappeared.
Perhaps, he should stop the portal from closing and give himself more time. In the next instant, however, he made the decision not to. If he even managed to stop it from closing, then no way could he start the process again. He’d gotten too drained and couldn’t risk letting the portal remain open.
Which meant that crossing over to Surgat’s hell offered only a fool’s errand. He could go back now and find his body and forget about this. Abigail didn’t know he had spotted Arthur, and he didn’t need to tell her.
In fact, he shouldn’t say a word. It would just hurt her and open old wounds. This impossible situation brought a much greater risk than he should, reasonably, undertake to try and save the life of a man he had never met.
No, he should just go back to his body, forget about ever spotting Arthur, and omit this part of his story if he ever again set eyes on Abigail.
Right, of course he couldn’t.
It didn’t matter about Abigail and what she would think of him. It mattered more about himself. Haatim believed that he knew himself as a person and imagined himself as the kind of person who would risk his life to save people. However, he’d never thought that he would get that opportunity, but part of the identity he had created for himself rested on that kind of person.
If he left now, he didn’t know if he would ever reconcile the identity he’d assigned for himself with the reality he faced down here. He felt terrified of crossing through the portal, and it would mean risking his life to save someone he’d only heard about in stories, but he knew it as the right thing to do.
Even if neither of them made it out, it would remain the right thing to do.
Resolved, he steadied himself and then dove through the portal, heading for the essence and soul of Arthur Vangeest.
***
“We’re losing him,” Frieda shouted.
“What do you mean?” Dominick glanced back at Frieda in the center of the antique shop. They had stood here for only a few minutes since the portal had opened to allow demons to cross over into their world, but already, things looked hopeless. The streets and skies had filled with thousands of demons, and more came through every second.
They still hadn’t attacked in force, which meant Abigail still fought back against Surgat; but, occasionally, a few wandered close enough that Dominick had no choice but to engage them. It continued to rain, and the odd blast of lightning and thunder struck in the distance.
“I don’t know,” she said. “He just keeps gasping for air.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. One second, he seemed fine, and then this.”
“Is he breathing?”
“Barely.”
“Then barely has to be enough.”
Dominick leaned against the doorframe, checking over what remained of their weapons. He had two shotguns with five shells between them, his pistol had gotten down to two rounds, and Frieda had a full clip in her gun. After that, though, they would get reduced to knives and fists.
He could bottleneck the door to their building and keep the demons at bay when they attacked, but it had a glass front window that would prove easy to break through whenever the demons decided to swarm them.
Whenever that happened, they’d be dead. They couldn’t last for more than a few seconds against a concerted attack.
Nor could they see Abigail any longer. She had disappeared from view amidst the demons; although, the last he had seen of her, she’d stood perfectly still. Her eyes had remained open, and whatever battle she fought, it happened inside her. He prayed that Abigail would win out in the end but had begun to lose hope.
Worse, the demons grew anxious. They might attack without waiting for Surgat’s commands. Several of the dog-like demons paced out in front of the store, about ten meters away, and watched him.
“That’s the least of our problems,” Dominick called back. “We’re outnumbered and surrounded, and I can’t even get a clear shot on Abigail. Not that I could do anything to her, but this looks hopeless.”
One of the rock golems came swooping down all of a sudden, flying in straight at Dominick. He stepped outside, raising one of his shotguns, and lined up a shot. He waited until the demon came close enough that he could reach up and touch its talons.
Then he fired, exploding the chest and head. The bullet did significant damage, and the demon disintegrated into dust and small stones in midair. A shower of dust hit Dominick a few seconds later as it fell.
Once the dirt cloud had cleared, he spotted a couple of the little bat-like demons flying at him as well. He drew his pistol, lined up his shots carefully, and pulled the trigger.
That spent the last of his bullets, and all three of the ugly little bats burst into puffs of smoke. It felt a little bit rewarding to see them explode like that, banished back to hell. His happiness soon curbed, however, when he looked back at the sky and saw the enormous clouds of demons circling overhead.
“What are they doing?” Dominick stepped back into the building to reload and reset.
“Testing our defenses,” Frieda said. “And waiting for their commands.”
“From Surgat?”
Frieda nodded. “Abigail must still be fighting back.”
“Do you think she can win out?”
This time, Frieda didn’t reply.
“What do we do?” Dominick asked. “We can’t stay here. When they swarm us, we’re done.”
“I know. We have to wait.” Frieda turned back to Haatim. He still lay gasping. She touched his cheek. “He’s cold.”
Dominick knelt next to her. “Wait for what?” He frowned. “Frieda, we can’t win. We need to get out of here while we still can.”
“We can’t leave Haatim.”
“I can carry him. We need to go, or we’ll never get out of here.”
She smiled at him sadly and shook her head. “That ship has sailed. I’m sorry I brought you here, Dominick. They have us trapped and surrounded, and when Surgat decides the time to end us has arrived, we won’t stand a chance.”
Dominick fell silent, frowning, and then said, “So, we have no chance?”
“Not if Abigail loses.”
“Then, what do we do?”
“I don’t know.” Frieda looked up at him. “Do you pray?”
