Philip Simpson - Tribulation

Sam was suddenly conscious of the fact that it was the longest speech he’d ever made. It was good to be speaking to people again, even under such dire circumstances.

To her credit, Olivia took her crew and immediately had them spread out to check every area in the warehouse. Sam knew that while the demon worshippers survived mostly by eating other humans, they must have a backup supply of tinned or powdered food hidden somewhere.

Gathering his three recruits, he instructed them as to his requirements. They were to look for any weapons that appeared functional. Some of the rifles and shotguns caught in the direct blast of Yeth’s breath were partially melted and useless. The others might lack ammunition. Ammunition was key. Without it, the guns were just so much dead weight, and dead weight was the last thing Sam needed when some of these people were struggling to hold up their own bodies. And they’d have to move fast. If Sam was going to get them where he intended, he couldn’t delay.

To Sam’s concern it was more like ten minutes before Olivia and the others returned. The fires were spreading, filling the building with harsh smoke. Some of the weaker prisoners were already on their knees, coughing. But it was worth the wait. Between them, they carried several backpacks, stuffed with supplies. Sam shared the packs out amongst the more robust members of the group. For his part, Sam and the others had found four useable rifles, three shotguns and one pistol. All the guns had ammunition, just not a great deal of it. He distributed the guns according to who was willing and capable. Those who hadn’t been given a task had more of less got themselves ready and assembled outside the dreaded cage. Finally, he addressed them once more.

“Good work. But that was the easy part. When, we leave, expect demons. They will be attracted by the fire and the misery and death they can sense inside. Those with weapons, choose your targets carefully — ammo is limited.” He surveyed the group one last time. They didn’t look like much but they were in far better shape now than they had been a few minutes earlier. At least now, they were free.

“Right, let’s go.”

Going out the same way as Yeth was impossible. Almost that entire wall was now on fire. Sam had no choice but to lead them out the main doors. He knew it was risky but he really didn’t have much of a choice. He gathered them together as a tightly knit pack, stressing the importance of staying together. As they moved, Sam positioned those with the weapons on the outside of the pack. Those who were weaker and unarmed were clustered in the middle.

They exited the main doors without incident. There were many mounds of ash nearby and Sam silently thanked Yeth. His Hellhound must have taken care of these demons waiting in ambush.

Sam moved as swiftly as he could, assisting where he could to hurry the weakest along. Behind them, the warehouse, what had once been a place devoted to the worship of his father, blazed like a beacon in the night sky. Yeth might have taken care of a few demons but others would come.

He followed a trail that he’d plotted out earlier, one that involved the least amount of exposure. He looked up, always conscious of the threat of flying demons. The sky was lightening in the east, filling Sam with relief. Dawn was on its way.

He’d timed this carefully, making some rather rough assumptions about how long he’d need in the warehouse. He’d got it almost right. Disappearing through the desecrated churches that acted as their gateways, Demons went back to Hell during the day. Just in time for Sam and the other survivors to make their escape. It would’ve been easier in the day for him to attack the warehouse, but Sam himself was weaker during the day, and if he’d been a bit slower, a bit weaker… he hated to think.

He led them down an alleyway. A few more turns and they’d be back at the clothing store where his own pack awaited him. It was a good place to rest too. Safe. Or as safe as safe could be these days. Even though he could sense that some demons were already returning to Hell, others were still lurking. Hunting them. He just had to hold out for a few more minutes.

Sam got to the end of the alley and turned to make sure the others were behind him. It almost got him killed. Distracted, Sam had failed to properly notice the dark shadow above him. As he exited the alley and turned, the shadow plummeted directly for him, four darker lines of black extended in front of it. At the last second, Sam sensed its approach and knew he’d made a mistake. This one was finally going to kill him. He brought his swords out in a blur but knew it was probably pointless. A two thousand pound Astaroth descending like this with all its weapons beaded on Sam was way too much inertia to cope with. He couldn’t block that. There was no way Sam could retreat either, not with the other survivors blocking his way. He set his teeth and locked his swords out in front of him. For the second time that night, he resigned himself to go down fighting.

Once again, he was destined to be disappointed. The Astaroth was almost upon him when the roar of nearby guns almost deafened him. Four rifles, three shotguns and a pistol opened up, more or less at the same time. Directly at the Astaroth. It didn’t even have time to vent its rage. One second it was a massive shadow hurtling down at Sam, the next, he was being showered by the creature’s remains as they fluttered down upon him.

He turned and made eye contact with the survivors, especially the eight holding smoking weapons. He nodded his thanks. Words were unnecessary. They were even now. Perhaps he’d misjudged these people’s will to live after all.

He looked up in the sky again. Dawn had come and with it the dull gray light which was what approximated daylight these days. The sun hadn’t been seen on Earth for three and a half years now, hidden as it was behind the thick angry blanket of cloud that was a constant during daylight hours.

More importantly, it marked an important change. The demons were gone. They’d made it.

He led the survivors back to the clothing store. They were safe. For one more day at any rate.

He let the survivors sleep for a few hours. They obviously needed it and most, including Olivia, appeared to be suffering physically and mentally from their ordeal. Understandably. Sam himself didn’t rest. He didn’t feel the need and besides, he was too worked up after their successful escape to rest. Instead, he paced around for a bit, restless, unable to stand still for a second. Like a cat on a hot tin roof. Sam smiled to himself. That had been one of Hikari’s expressions. For a moment, the thought of the diminutive Japanese man uttering those words made Sam feel inexplicably happy.

The moment passed. Sam’s mind returned to more pressing matters. Like getting these survivors to safety. And safety, unfortunately, was over fifty miles away In Columbus. The Ohio Army National guard station there was the only military base that Sam had found still operational. How they had survived, Sam didn’t know, but the fact that they had gave him hope. Where one could survive, others could too.

Sam wasn’t completely unprepared. He’d planned for this eventuality, hoping that his goal to free these survivors would be successful. It was a rough plan though and not something that would withstand a great deal of unanticipated problems. If something went wrong, he really didn’t have a backup. Much like his assault on the demon worshippers. But this time, he wouldn’t have Yeth to help him.