Tribulation (16 page)

No one argued
or volunteered, but then, Sam didn’t see how they could. No one
else was in any kind of condition to attempt something like this.
He shrugged off his pack and Katana, re-strapping the sword to his
back. Thus prepared, Sam assessed the structure. It was fairly
impenetrable but he supposed that was the whole point. He could cut
his way through the wire fence – he knew without doubt that his
swords would make short work of it but then they’d be in the same
predicament, without any way to get into the building itself.

Frustration set
in. It wasn’t long until it got dark, and he really didn’t have
time to waste. On the far corner of the building, he finally
spotted something useful. It was a downpipe where rain run-off was
siphoned from the roof. It also made the perfect climbing
assistant.

He darted over
to it. Testing it once for stability, he began to climb. It didn’t
feel particularly strong but he didn’t really have an option. He
moved rapidly, conscious that two of the securing brackets had
already come loose but managed to make it to the roof without
incident and sighed with relief.

It was
essentially featureless. A flat, empty roof. Sam was about to climb
down again in disgust when he found what he was looking for. On the
far side of the roof, he could just make out a skylight. With no
time to lose, he scuttled over to it. It had a metal grate over it,
of course. And of course, the grate was made of iron. In order to
get in, Sam would essentially have to destroy it. That would make
the structure vulnerable to attack, especially from the skies -
from Astaroth in particular. But there was no helping it.

He drew his
Katana. Narrowing his eyes in concentration and focusing his energy
for precision and power, he struck down. Once, twice. His blade cut
through the solid metal bars almost without resistance. He removed
the cut segments, ignoring the hiss of burning flesh and sharp pain
as his naked flesh made contact with the iron. The skylight was
operated by a simple latch. Using his telekinetic power, he willed
it to move, smiling in grim satisfaction as he heard it snick open.
He lifted it up and stuck his head in. It was dark, other than the
weak glow provided by the skylight. No sound. Nothing moving. His
senses detected neither human nor demon presence. The place was
clear.

He wiggled
through, feet first, dropping the last five feet to the floor where
he considered the now gaping hole in the roof. It was far, far too
small to allow an Astaroth access but it was a pretty obvious
advertisement that someone had been here. He’d have to close it but
he’d need help to do that. Later.

He was on a
mezzanine floor. It had clearly been an office of some sort once,
with windows opening on to the warehouse floor. It was now all but
empty, with only a few boxes of files covered with a thin film of
cinder and dust. It was very dark but Sam’s eyes easily made out
the shapes of various machines and vehicles. Finding the stairs, he
sped down them, taking them several at a time. On the ground floor,
he found the main door. It was secured by a solid built-in lock. He
was about to attack it with his sword when another thought offered
itself. He simply turned the handle; to his surprise, the door
opened. Even if it had been locked, he probably could’ve used his
telekinesis to open it. He cursed himself for his foolishness. He’d
basically destroyed the skylight above when he could’ve almost just
walked in.

Outside, in the
growing gloom, the others were waiting for him, huddling together
in a pathetic cluster. They looked relieved when he opened the door
wide and stepped aside to allow them inside. He secured the heavy
door behind them, confident that it would withstand a few blows
from even an Astaroth or Horned Demon.

“Everyone go
around and make sure this area is secure,” he said. “Olivia, come
with me.” He led her upstairs and showed her the skylight.

“What do you
want me to do?” she asked.

“Stand on my
shoulders,” he ordered. “Reach up and close the skylight. We don’t
want to advertise our presence.”

He bent down as
she clambered aboard his shoulders. He stood up straight and
Olivia, using his head to steady herself, stood upright. As her
hand rested on his head, he was conscious of her touching the horns
on his head through the hood. He stiffened in alarm but quickly
recovered, trying to appear completely normal. Olivia gave no
indication she’d noticed, reaching up to quickly pull the skylight
closed. She locked it with the latch but Sam knew that wouldn’t
stop a determined demon from gaining access.

He helped her
down. As her feet touched the floor, they made eye contact for the
briefest of moments. Despite the gloom, Sam felt panic rise within
his breast. It was just a matter of putting the facts together. If
she considered the shapes she’d felt on his head along with a
glimpse of his black irises – well, it wouldn’t take a rocket
scientist to put it all together. She looked at him strangely for a
moment and then just as quickly, looked away. Tension filled the
room. Sam could feel it, dreading what this was building up to.
Waiting for her to cry out in alarm. The others would come running
and then, well then, things would go as they usually did.

She looked at
him again and the ghost of a smile crossed her lips. And then, just
as suddenly as it had manifested itself, the tension was gone. Sam
smiled back, trying to calm the rapid thumping of his heart.

Without a word,
Olivia turned and led him down the steps. Downstairs, the others
had gathered together, dumping their packs on the floor. It was
almost completely dark now. The depot let very little light in even
during the day. At night, which it now was, darkness was almost
total.

Sam wasn’t
concerned. He loved the night and could see almost perfectly. The
others, he knew, would require the light far more than he, if for
no other reason than a morale boost. He found his pack amongst the
pile of packs and rummaged around, pulling out half-used candles,
setting them down on their tiny spiked stands and lighting them
with his kerosene lighter from his pocket.

As he worked,
he reached out with both his human and demonic senses, searching
for any indication of demons. They were out there alright. So far,
all their activity was centered around the church, having just
arrived from Hell. Soon though, he knew they would spread out,
searching for any humans they could drag back with them.

He did his
usual trick of disguising his mind, using his glamor to try and
extend the mental camouflage so it covered an area rather than just
himself. It usually only worked for himself but it was worth a try.
That way, anyone nearby him should also be concealed. Hopefully. He
couldn’t be sure if it worked but no doubt they would soon find
out.

A small part of
his mind was also focused on the conversation happening around him.
Suddenly, he became aware of what they were talking about, snapping
his entire attention back to them.

“Yeah, it’s a
snow plough. Looks ok, too. Haven’t checked it out properly or
anything yet though …”

“What did you
say?” said Sam, more sharply than he’d intended.

In the
flickering light of the candles, Mike indicated a dark patch of
shadow on the depot floor. “There’s a snow plough over there,”
repeated Mike. “Stored here during summer and brought out to clear
the highway in winter. Doesn’t look like it’s been touched,
either.”

Now that Sam’s
mind was more focused, he could see that yes indeed, it was a snow
plough. He hadn’t had time to register what was in the depot
before. This could just be the stroke of luck he needed.

“Do you think
you can get it going?” he asked.

Mike shrugged.
“I don’t see why not. Shouldn’t be any different than driving the
sanitation truck. Just need fuel but usually they have a supply at
the depot. I couldn’t find it in here so it’s probably in the
compound outside. The gate was intact so it probably hasn’t been
looted.”

Sam nodded. He
tried not to get his hopes up but this really could be the answer
to their salvation here. They’d got really lucky finding this
place. Even if they survived the night, he knew that probably half
of these people wouldn’t be able to get to Columbus on foot. What
he needed was transportation. A snow plough was perfect, no – more
than perfect. With its massive plough at the front, they’d easily
be able to deal with any cars blocking the highway. That was one of
the reasons why he always travelled on foot: the roads were often
blocked by vehicles which had lost their occupants during the
Rapture. That … and Sam didn’t know how to drive. He certainly
wouldn’t have been able to drive a truck. Once again, having Mike
with them was a stroke of luck. Sam thought – hoped - that someone
was watching over them.

Examining the
bright yellow vehicle, Sam considered options. Behind him, he heard
Mike curse as he tripped over in the darkness, moving towards him.
Eventually, Sam felt him fumbling at his sleeve.

“Jeez, how do
you see like that?” he asked.

“Practice,”
said Sam. “I move around a lot at night. My night vision seems to
have adapted.”

Unaware that
Sam could see his expression clearly in the darkness, Mike looked
skeptical but obviously decided to drop it. Olivia, apparently
curious, brought one of the candles over. They stood around the
truck in contemplative silence.

“How many can
you fit in the cab?” Sam asked.

“No more than
four. But see the open tray at the back? That’s where snow that
needs to be moved gets stored. We’ll be able to fit the others in
there easily.”

Sam considered.
The tray had solid metal sides, rising up to chest height on an
average human. It would provide some protection from demons. Of
course, it was completely open to attack from above, but you
couldn’t have everything. Hopefully, by giving all the weapons to
those in the back, it should enable them to fend off an
Astaroth.

“We’ll have to
wait until morning,” said Olivia. “The others are too tired. Myself
included.”

“Yeah, and I’ll
need to sort out the fuel situation,” said Mike. “Best done in the
light of day.” Cautiously, conscious of tripping again, Mike moved
to the side of the truck and opened the cab door, grimacing as it
creaked alarmingly. The door had not been opened for some time.
“Keys in the ignition,” he said.

Sam was
relieved. The last thing he wanted to do is search the entire depot
for keys. He also agreed with the others about waiting for morning,
although a part of him felt slightly uneasy. He wasn’t sure if his
glamor would keep the demons away, especially for the whole night.
They had an opportunity here, one that Sam was keen to exploit as
soon as possible. But there was nothing for it. The others did need
to rest. That couldn’t be helped.

In the
uncertain light of the candles, the twelve survivors settled down
for the night, trying to make themselves as comfortable as possible
on the hard concrete floor. A few had asked about food but Sam
wasn’t going to risk cooking at night, especially here when he knew
that demons were nearby. Although starving, they’d have to wait for
morning. Sam also ensured that those with guns kept them nearby.
He, himself would stay on guard but he wanted the others ready to
fight if it came to it. Which it inevitably would.

Columbus

"But the one who
endures to the end, he shall be saved.”
Matthew 24:10,
13

I
t must’ve been after midnight when he heard it. A
scream. A woman’s scream. He was on his feet in a second, shocked
out of his meditative trance, already berating himself for his lack
of attention. He’d been elsewhere, his senses concentrating on the
movements of demons outside. They were close – some Lemures had
even shuffled up to the main doors and sniffed around for a while.
He’d observed them closely, prepared to take them out before they
could spread the alarm.

That was why he
hadn’t noticed what was going on within the depot. Unsurprisingly.
One of the woman – Sam hadn’t learnt her name yet; he wasn’t very
good with names – had taken herself off to the toilet, using a dark
recess on the depot floor. It was pointless using the tiny bathroom
they’d discovered. It was blocked and in any case, hadn’t been
working for years.

Sam’s senses
found her immediately. He raced in that direction, conscious that
the others were rousing themselves frantically. Outside, he knew
the Lemure had heard the noise. Even now, they were scratching at
the door.

“Everyone in
the truck,” he shouted behind him. “Mike, you drive.”

He found her
cowering, unable to see Sam clearly as he approached, just a large
ominous patch of darkness.

“It’s ok,” he
said. “I’m here. What happened?” He helped her to her feet.

“I … I saw
something move. Over there,” she pointed in a corner. “I don’t know
what it was.”

Sam reached out
with his senses. He couldn’t sense anything, but then, yes, he
could. Something tiny, almost mindless. And then he knew what it
was. A rat. Their cover had been blown for a rat. The chicken of
the apocalypse, probably the most common food source for survivors
just because they were everywhere. A part of him wanted to be angry
with this woman but he knew he was being unfair. It wasn’t her
fault. She was just scared.

“It’s just a
rat,” he said flatly.

“I’m … I ’m
sorry,” she said.

Sam nodded even
though he knew she probably couldn’t see the gesture. “I know,” he
said. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Almost dragging
her behind him, he put her in the arms of Olivia who was helping
load the others into the back of the truck. He noticed with relief
that the packs were going in too. Someone was thinking clearly. The
packs included his, thankfully. There were personal items in there
that he would hate to lose, not to mention all of the food and
water in the other packs. If they survived, they would need it. And
that was a big ‘if’. The Lemure by themselves weren’t a problem. It
was unlikely they would be able to get into the depot but their
scratching had already attracted the interest of more powerful
demons. Sam sensed at least one Astaroth circling. A group of
Horned demons were also lumbering in this direction to
investigate.