“Inside,” I said.
She ran, frantic, panicked, straight into the doorframe, unable to see, half-spinning as she reeled, then tore through the open door, casting a dim light as she went. Moving all the while like she had two speeds – paralysis and pell-mell.
The burned man glowed brighter as the area got darker.
It wasn’t dark within, ghosts or no, but it was dim. Already, I could imagine seeing things in the spots of shadow. Something snaking out there, or boiling forth like some swarm of bugs from a disturbed hive.
I exhaled slowly.
When I looked again, I didn’t see anything.
“Now!” I hollered the word. I was afraid to stop, because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to start again.
The halogen lights flickered on.
One opposite me cast a light almost straight to the door. A path of light to the very back of the factory. Others crossed it, drawing circles on the walls, highlighting cracks in deeper shadow.
“Ghosts, draw circles in the floor with fire!” I shouted.
Burning footprints drew circles in the darkness. Places where I was safe.
They were obedient.
This was easier than spending the gas from my cans to do the same. I still wouldn’t give them all my trust.
It was like being a chess piece, moving between the triangles of light and circles of dim flame. Watching for attacks from odd angles, without really looking.
Can’t step off the path. Can’t step outside the circles.
“You okay?” someone asked. It might have been Nick’s son.
“Light’s good!” I called out.
The gas cans were ready, resting in my hands.
Looking where I was going was something of an art form. The lights were brilliant, threatening to blind, and looking at darkness threatened to let the demon leap into my eyes.
The ghost of the little girl ran a zig-zag through the space, giving light where I’d had none.
My footsteps were hollow on the hard floor, as I moved as fast as I could. Like a tightrope, it was easier if I crossed it faster than slower.
Not too fast, but fast enough.
The dolls trudged behind me.
They would be the heat-seeking dolls, tuned so they wouldn’t target me.
When the fires started to burn, they’d make the fires bigger. I just had to keep my distance, control the blaze.
I reached the end of the hallway, passing the scorch marks where I’d drawn the circles.
“Ghosts, stop!” I shouted.
Both the cinder-girl and the burned man stopped where they were.
Circles marked the area.
“Guys, drop the gas!” I shouted.
My voice was eerily loud in the near-silence. There were no trees rustling here. The people outside were too spread out to really be communicating. There was only the footsteps, and there was me.
Windows here and there shattered. Thumps marked the arrival of the bright orange gas jugs. I saw fluid spilling out. In two spots, people were pouring gas through the window. I watched to make sure there was no danger.
Zero movement.
No noise, no threats.
The way the lights shone through the window, the light that extended toward the door to the sub-level passed over the rubble I’d remembered seeing.
I needed to cross it, but that meant stepping into shadow.
Careful, Blake.
I noted where everything was, as carefully and systematically as I could.
Gas jugs.
Flares were too risky. Flares went out, and I actually didn’t know how long that took.
Fires went out too, but I had a sense of how long that took.
I sloshed gas over the rubble.
“Hey,” I said. “Girl, I don’t know your name, but-”
The ghost stopped in her tracks.
“Right over there, light a fire. Only over there.”
She ran, that full-blast panicked run, stumbled, and landed belly-first on the rubble.
It ignited, and I squinted against the force of the flame.
Squinting, I almost missed it.
The demon, fleeing from the safety of the shadows that the rubble created. Slithering out in every direction, like a carpet seeking to cover every available expanse that the light didn’t already claim. I saw bits of it creep into areas where the light touched, and I saw those same parts fray and decay, crumbling away. Glimpses of limbs and other things, all a mucus-covered black, scrabbling for a grip on the hard surface.
“Holy jebus,” Evan whispered.
“Don’t look straight at it,” I warned.
“I’m not!”
Trying to be stern for Evan somehow allowed me to sum up some confidence. I splashed out with the gas, trying to catch the wall and the flame both.
It recoiled, and whole chunks broke away as they burned violently. None fell remotely close to the waiting gas cans.
I didn’t do it again, all the same.
Move forward, but keep moving, be careful…
The light from the burning rubble meant the hallway to the side was clearer.
I drew a loose circle with splashes of gasoline on the floor, then leaped from the long triangle of light to the burning circle.
I nearly lost my balance and stumbled straight through. I heard flapping wings at the same moment I managed to right myself.
I couldn’t find the words to thank Evan.
I was calculating my next move when I heard it.
Something dragging.
When I saw, I felt something go tight in my chest.
The demon, slithering alongside the wall.
A tiny hand held a piece of rebar, dragging it against the concrete at a speed faster than I could run.
No, it doesn’t make sense.
Sparks flew.
Sparks made contact with gasoline. A fire erupted, and before I could even find my footing, the fire found the nearest gas can.
The demon immolated itself, vast amounts of flesh tearing away from the wall as it burned.
The dolls found the flames, and they exploded in turn. Small, accelerant-boosted flames turned into bonfires, reaching three-quarters of the way from floor to ceiling.
I turned to the window. Escape only feet away.
But I could see the arms and tendrils reaching out from the dark spaces between the glowing rectangles where sun shone through glass. They lurked in the cracks in the glass, where the light refracted away. A spiderweb ready to catch me.
He’d slithered around.
Another gas can exploded, closer, and rubble fell alongside great swathes of flaming demon flesh.
“What?” Evan managed.
“Fly, Evan,” I said.
“What?” he asked, this time directing the question at me.
“Fly for the opening in the roof,” I said.
“But-”
“The rules, Evan! If something happens, you’re supposed to go!”
I grabbed him and threw him.
He caught himself, flapping his wings.
I saw the tendrils snap out, arms reaching, burning as sunlight touched them.
I saw just how dangerous the escape route was.
The window was worse. There was still a path to the front door, lines and circles.
I ran, opting for speed over self-preservation. Moving through flames, letting my legs burn.
Smoke was already heavy in the air.
I didn’t make it halfway to the door before I stopped in my tracks.
Smoke, in its way, held darkness.
He was in the smoke, roiling, twisting, thriving.
No.
I had no escape routes.
I drew the flare gun.
I could hold out. Wait for help.
Couldn’t I?
The demon, Ur, was asking the same question, it seemed.
The demon had an answer.
It bit.