Philip Simpson - Tribulation

Then, near the town of Bethlehem, he was hit by a fire-storm. It wasn’t a huge problem. He was, after all, almost completely immune to fire as he’d imagine the Devil’s Hand were. But that wasn’t the issue. They were a relatively new phenomenon, becoming increasingly frequent. Fire-storms took the form of balls of lava falling from the sky, deadly to normal humans and highly destructive, largely responsible for most of the burnt towns and cities he had encountered. They struck the road in front of him. So intense was the heat that they melted the tar, creating a sticky mess that spelt ‘death trap’. If he ran through that, the tar would stick to his boots, further impeding his progress.

He detoured again, off the road, thrusting himself through smoldering plants, long since dead but still able to burn. The detour cost him time but he knew it was worth it. Experience had taught him well. The Devil’s Hand might not be as wise.

Sure enough, when he’d completed his detour and returned to the Highway, Sam cast a look over his shoulder. The Devil’s Hand had not bothered to avoid the burning road. They lacked Sam’s experience on Earth, running straight through the viscous black tar. Four immediately ran into trouble, their black boots becoming encased in the sticky sludge, slowing their progress considerably. If Sam got lucky, they might even have to retreat back to Hell to get new boots.

Unfortunately, the fifth member, ever so slightly behind the others, saw the difficulty they were having and followed Sam’s detour around. On closer inspection, Sam realized this member of the group was one of the two females.

He slowed slightly — not obviously — but enough to allow the isolated female to close the distance. This was almost too lucky. It was exactly what he’d been waiting for: an opportunity to isolate one of them. If he faced them as a group, he knew that his chances were slim. But one on one? That was a different story. Silently, he called to Yeth, willing his great Hellhound to appear. The timing couldn’t have been better. Sam could sense a church nearby, a portal that Yeth could use to his advantage.

Still cloaked in his glamor, Sam sprinted ahead. There was a mass of cars piled ahead of him on the highway, scattered like so many child’s toys. Enough to obscure his movements. He somersaulted over the first one he came to. Ahead of him was a jumbled maze of other cars. He darted in amongst them and then skidded to a halt and crouched down. He didn’t have to wait long.

He sensed her mind state first, of course. As she got closer, her thoughts became clearer to him. She didn’t expect an ambush, confident that Sam was like a deer being pursued by a pack of wolves, certain that his fear would drive him on.

Her footsteps and the sound of her breathing became apparent before she did and for once, everything went exactly to plan. He waited until she just gone past the car he huddled behind and then leapt after her, as silent as death. Some sixth sense or desperate self-preservation must have warned her at the very last moment, but it was too late. To her credit, she swiveled with surprising speed, brought her sword up and almost managed to block his blades despite not knowing exactly where the attack was coming from. It was impressive and something Sam would have struggled to do himself. He was careful not to kill her straight away though, which would have been pointless. He needed the scent trail.

His Wakizashi knocked her block sideways, even while his Katana was already curving upwards, biting underneath her arm and slicing through it almost without resistance. Blood spurted. She screamed once and tried to drive her remaining blade-like hand straight into his eyes. He blocked it again, removing the other hand just as easily. Unarmed and completely defenseless, Sam thought she might have surrendered or perhaps even pleaded then. But this was the Devil’s Hand he was dealing with here. A Cambion like him, unafraid of death and confident that if she died here, she’d just come back to face him stronger next time.

She screamed defiantly and threw herself at him. He plunged both swords though her, one through the neck and one in her chest, killing her instantly. She disappeared. Yeth appeared at his side as if her death had summoned him, his body flaming, sensing his master’s mood and prepared for battle. His Hellhound was to be disappointed this night. There would be no more fighting.

Sam pointed and understanding blossomed in the great demon’s mind. A fight might not be on the cards now but it was coming and soon. Sam assured him of that, patting Yeth’s great flanks reassuringly. The Devil’s Hand thought they had the upper hand, but things were about to change.

He thanked Yeth and cautioned him to escape. Four more Devil’s Hand were rapidly approaching, intent on avenging their fallen comrade. Sam could sense their mood and it was dire. Even he and Yeth might not be a match for them.

As Yeth faded back to Hell, taking refuge in his own plane, Sam took to his heels and fled.

He managed to stay ahead of them through the rest of that long night. It was taxing — he’d rarely felt this exhausted having run almost non-stop for twenty four hours. And that was after spending a whole night in a rage-fueled binge of destruction.

The Devil’s Hand were relentless. The four that remained pursued him doggedly, intent on revenge. A part of him even admired their persistence. The pursuit also taught him something valuable — how long it took for one to be ‘re-spawned’.

He sensed her reappearance immediately, joining the others as they ran along, presumably emerging from a nearby church. Swiftly, he did the calculations. He’d killed her just after midnight. Now it was almost dawn — probably five am if he was any judge. So basically, it took them about five hours to, well, reconstitute themselves again. Re-born. Sam envied them this ability. To be released from the fear of death… and not only that. To be re-born stronger each time. How exhilarating! He caught his envy before it got out of control. To be jealous of a demon. Ridiculous!

By dawn, he found himself in Springfield, New Jersey. Thankfully, the Devil’s Hand once again returned to Hell to avoid the hated daylight. Sam didn’t think it would last. One day soon, they would adapt like he had, able to continue the pursuit no matter what time of day it was. Sam hoped that that day was still a long way off.

He could probably have pushed on through to New York — through Jersey and into Manhattan, his ultimate destination — but he wanted to scout out the lie of the land first. Things didn’t look promising. To the east, in the general vicinity of where Sam thought Manhattan was, black smoke was drifting up in the warm morning breeze. Not a great sign.

It wasn’t much better in Springfield. The fire-storms and other natural disasters had wreaked havoc. Most of the town was destroyed, only the brick buildings having survived the fire-storms. Signage on the interstate informed him that there was a golf course nearby and he could just make it out in the distance. Or what had once been a golf course. It was now nothing more than a large open area, covered in blackened grass. People lived in the town though — he could perceive their presence, although whether they were demon worshippers or not, he couldn’t determine. He kept well away from them. Even if they weren’t in league with his Father, there wasn’t much he could do for them at the moment. Besides, Colonel Wheat and his troops would be along in another few weeks. Small comfort for those dying of the plague but Sam just couldn’t help everyone — even if he’d had enough antibiotics which he didn’t.

He got off the interstate near the business district. In order to confound the Devil’s Hand and their persistent tracking, he climbed up onto the roof tops. Some were still mostly intact, while others were just exposed and blackened ceiling beams. Silently leaping from one to the next, he knew he was taking a chance but it had to be done. He just couldn’t risk drawing attention to himself. If the Devil’s Hand found him, they would be able to summon both their human followers and their demonic kin to aid them. This way, they might not be able to track him.