The demons crowded forward into the chamber, flowing and melting in the light, but the sheer bulk of them were pressing more and more of their viscous material through. Very quickly, the etched circle was surrounded.
Their path to the iron door, their route of escape, was completely blocked.
We have no way out.
26
Fred led Sarah away from the tunnel mouth. Charlie was already there, washing beams of light across a small army of demons that danced and capered around the edge of the fiery pit. He was doing enough to keep them at bay, for now.
“Fetch the gas,” Charlie shouted. “As much as you can get, as quick as you can get it.”
Fred headed up the tunnel to where the gas was stored. There was just enough light to see the stacked containers.
Sarah still stood at his side.
“You’ll have to let go of me, darlin’,” he said. “Just for a bit. But I promise, I ain’t going nowhere without you.”
The girl let go, moved away… and started lugging a gas canister, having to half carry, half drag it across the floor. Normally Fred would have helped her out. But Charlie had been insistent.
“Get a move on, lad,” the older man shouted from out in the main cavern. “I ain’t gonna be able to hold them for long.”
Fred looked up the tunnel; the one that they would have to use to escape. The walls showed signs of scorching where the flare had burned and raged, but there were no shifting shadows and no demons.
Not yet.
Fred lifted and carried in three separate short journeys with Sarah at his side. When they got back from the third trip, it was to find Ellen Simmons pouring the gas on the rock at her feet. The liquid slid downhill in a short stream that made a large puddle at the feet of the dancing demons and was already on the verge of overflowing and tumbling into the pit.
“Fire in the hole,” Charlie shouted, and flicked his lighter alit.
Just as he threw it into the stream of gas, they heard high chanting rise from inside the bunker, coming clear even through the iron door.
27
Janet found the ritual in the journal just as the growing pool of gloop on the floor crept within inches of the outer protective circle. She stuttered over the first words, but found a rhythm that seemed apt, and almost sang out the unfamiliar sounds.
“Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.”
It was as if they stood inside a giant bell. The chamber rang and resonated, echoing the ritual back at her, amplifying and enhancing it until a whole chorus of voices joined in the chanting. Bill surprised her by lending his own voice to the effort. He moved beside her and put an arm around her waist as they chanted.
The gloop retreated away from the edges of the circle.
This might actually work.
28
The flame ran across the cavern floor and the nearest group of demons went up in a whoosh of heat and light and screaming. Fred felt a burst of burning air in his face, and smelled burnt hair at the same time as he felt his eyebrows curl. He turned his face away as the flash threatened to blind him, and when he looked back, there was no sign of any demons around the crater. Gray smoke rose from burning tissue; all that was left of the things that had stood there seconds earlier.
The chanting from the bunker rose to a new level of volume, so much so that it seemed to echo around them. An answering call came up out of the pit, piteous and wailing.
Weemean.
Charlie kicked over the remaining canisters, sending a flood of fire down over the edge.
The response was instantaneous. The walls shook, dislodging stones and pebbles in a rain around them. A rock struck Fred just above the brow and he felt warm blood run past his ear.
“Time to go,” Charlie said, and headed for the exit. Ellen Simmons followed him without question.
“What about Doc and Big Bill?” Fred said, starting to move for the iron door to the bunker.
Sarah pulled him away.
“She’s buying us time. That’s all she was ever going to do. And she knows it.”
He didn’t get close enough to see inside the bunker, but he heard two voices raised in unison. He felt the chant ring in his mind. It stayed with him as they fled.
“Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.”
29
“Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.”
The neon lights failed all at once, exploding in a burst of fragments that fell around Janet and Bill and causing the chant to falter and come to a halt.
Silence descended in the chamber. Darkness crept in the corners, and red eyes stared out at them.
Bill washed light from the gun where he could, but as soon as he passed a dark area, the shadows firmed again and demons came forward. He stepped away from Janet, obviously intent on getting closer to the alcoves. She tugged at his shirt.
“Stay in the circle,” Janet said. “We need to start the chant again.”
“We need to get out of here. Right now,” the sheriff replied, and sent a volley of shots towards the bookcase alcove where the shadows were thickest.
“No,” Janet said softly. “The chant is the only thing stopping it. If we leave now, it wins. We need to buy the others time to escape.”
She started to chant again, feeling her throat tear, but putting everything into it, almost a scream this time.
“Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.”
Bill looked her in the eye.
“Janet. We need to go.”
He put out a hand. She took it, and pulled him close. She couldn’t stop the chant; she knew to do so would be the end of them all. Bill pulled against her, but not for long. She saw it in his eyes first before she felt his body relax.
He’s staying.
The sheriff joined his voice to hers and once again the chamber rang with a chorus of chanting. Demons crowded all around the circle, red eyes flaring.
But none would cross the lines in the rock.
The encroaching figures moaned.
Weemean.
The floor underfoot shook, threatening to throw them off balance. Dust, then pebbles fell from the roof as the tremors increased. Janet kept chanting.
“Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.”
30
Fred and Sarah ran, hand in hand, just behind Charlie and Ellen Simmons. They met no resistance in the form of demons, but had more than enough to cope with from falling debris, shifting footing and a blast of noise from below that threatened to deafen them.
Weemean. Weemean.
It was only good luck and Charlie’s foreknowledge that brought them up and out into tunnels that were in better shape, better able to cope with what seemed to be an imminent collapse.
A new tremor hit, a big one, causing Sarah to stumble and fall against him. As he helped her up, she looked him in the eye, then kissed him, hard, on the lips.
“You’re stuck with me now, you know that, right?”
Fred kissed her back.