Crossed (18 page)

“It’s abandoned.” At his words, I look up in surprise. “What did you expect?” A hard edge has entered Armand’s voice. “Cuddles and Saturday morning cartoons? I told you demons don’t make terribly good mothers.” He looks at the child with a loathing that is unjustified. I mean, we’ve all wanted to bite Chi for his stupidity at one time or another. But Armand looks at the creature as if he hates it, hates its weakness, hates its neediness.

Hates what it reminds him of.

A sick realization curdles in my stomach. “Are all Halflings raised like this?” But Armand knows what I’m truly asking.
Where you raised like this?

I remember Armand’s stories of his childhood, of his freedom to do anything he wished. I remember how he had never spoken of his mother; I remember the envy I had felt over the lack of rules he had as a child. I look at the scrawny child. Envy.

“Yes.”

No one speaks for a moment, and I look up. Chi is looking at Armand. He, too, must have realized what I just did, because in his eyes is unmistakable compassion. Then I realize to my horror that the same expression is on my face.

Compassion. There’s no room for compassion, not between Armand and me. He is my enemy, whatever his childhood may have been like. I can’t trust him; he is evil, a monster.

What would you have been like, raised like that?

I shake the thoughts away with a fury, casting about for a change of subject. “What’s with the ears?”

Armand shrugs. “The demons have a sense of humor.” His tone suggests he doesn’t find it funny. I wince. I suppose he wouldn’t. We’re looking at the living image of his own childhood.

I open my mouth to try to change the subject yet again, but Armand does it for me. He looks as if he feels as uncomfortable as I do about what was just revealed. “Come on, I think I’ve figured out where we are.” With that he strides from the alley, the rest of us following suit.

Fortunately the landscape of hell provides a pretty great distraction. Hell is equal parts terrifying and, at least to my darker half, fascinating. For the first few hours I can’t help ask questions such as “Is that building . . .
bleeding
?” “Did that doorway just
eat
that soul?” “Is that what I think it is?” And, “There are minivans in hell?” but eventually I get as tired of listening to Armand say “yes” as I suspect he is of saying it (except for the minivan question, that got an “obviously’), and lapse into silence. It’s probably better that way, for as we move inward the souls thin and we see more demons on the street. Most look as if they’re going somewhere, some lead beautiful men or women, the collars on their necks revealing them to be souls and I remember what Armand said about “hobbies.” Some demons sit clustered on the street corners abusing passing souls and baiting other demons. By silent agreement, we walk by them quickly and return any taunts with stony aloofness.

Armand leaves us again waiting on a corner while he goes ahead to figure out which way we should go next. I kick a couple of pebbles, then snarl and lunge at a soul just for fun.

“Now look what you did,” Jo says, and I assume she’s talking to me, but instead she’s waving back behind us. I squint into the shadows of a decrepit building. I don’t see anything at first, but then large eyes peep around the corner. Large eyes and big, pointy ears.

“You fed it, and now it’s following us,” Jo says to Chi, putting her hands on her hips.

“Yeah,” Chi says with a big smile. “I think he likes us.”

“Chi,” I say, interrupting the impending fight. “Granola bar me.”

“Errrr.”

“It means, pass me a granola bar.”

“Yeah, well . . .”

Something in his voice draws Jo’s attention.

“It’s like this . . .” Chi starts, but he doesn’t need to finish.

Jo rolls her eyes and makes a disgusted noise. “You gave it all our food, didn’t you?”

Chi doesn’t deny it but has the grace to look a little sheepish. “Look at him—he’s starving. He’s just a kid, Jo.”

“
It’s
a demon.”

“Half.”

“It’s still a monster.”

“
Hey
,” I protest. “Says the
demon
.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, come on, Jo,” Chi says. “It’s not its fault.” Without waiting for a response, Chi turns to the shadows. “Come on, little guy.” He waves, ducking down so they’re about the same height. “It’s okay.”

Jo grabs his arm. “It already tried to eat your hand, remember?” That reminder does make Chi tuck his hand back. Jo pushes her advantage. “We’re trying to save the world, maybe let’s focus on that.”

Armand reappears at the top of the hill and waves towards us to follow him. Chi still looks unsure, but when Jo tugs his arm, he comes away, though he does cast a wistful look behind him.

After hours of walking, our fearful, watchful pace has long since faded to a trudge, so when I see Armand bouncing on the balls of his feet, I know it’s good news. I’m not disappointed. Armand points the way he presumably just came from. “If I’m right, there’s a door about a mile or so that will take us all the—’

Suddenly there’s a huge surge in motion ahead. The milling, silent crowd is suddenly heaving with motion, racing towards us. The air is filled with pounding footsteps high-pitched groans and squeals. The first few souls race past us, their eyes wide and the skin where their mouths should be are stretched in taught, flesh-colored ribs as they scream wordlessly. Car doors slam as souls fling themselves from their cars, then stagger to their feet, without ever bothering to look to see what’s coming.

I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that this is bad.

A piercing howl fills the air followed by the leathery flap of wings. I have just enough time to look to the sky when a horrific beast appears between the tall buildings ahead. It rears, its black, snake-like body pulling up to survey its prey. The thing has to be at least three stories high, but it’s impossible to tell with the way it undulates, the back end seeming to dissipate into smoke. Its fanged mouth splits into an almost smile and it lets out another scream—a scream that is answered by several more sibling-cries behind it. It dives forward just as another half-dozen creatures flap into view, each wildly different—one red, with a bulky, lion-like body but with a reptilian head, one I would describe as “classically dragon” with huge, powerful hindquarters and claws as long as my arm, another colored like a coral snake. It’s like some children’s terrifying storybook come to life.

The monsters zip towards us, roaring and screaming, and diving down to snap up the terrified souls that flee ahead of them, still making their mouth-less screams.

“Shit,” Armand says, stealing the word from my mind. “Nightmares,” he says, in realization rather than to me. “Nightmares!” he shouts, this time to us, as if it explains more than what I’ve already deduced from the appearance of terrifying flying monsters of death and hysterical, fleeing hordes. “Back!” he waves, but we’re already dodging into the shadows of the nearest building. His eyes dart around until they land on a building half a block towards the monster. Its out-of-place beauty, an elegant red-brick manse, establishes it as a demon hang-out as much as the souls uselessly pounding on the clear barrier, their fear of the monsters outweighing even their fear of the demons. He grabs Jo by the arm and points towards the closest entrance, stairs leading toward a basement. “Get us in,” he shouts and shoves her into the pounding stream of souls. She doesn’t hesitate, but races towards the destination, her perfect legs propelling her through the crowd. I don’t need to be told to follow, but jump hot on her heels.

The bulk of the souls fleeing the monsters reaches us while we’re still a half-dozen yards from our destination and ploughing through them slows us down. I stiff-arm and elbow them out of the way with the viciousness of the wannabe-riche at a designer-tag sale. There’s a loud thump then the screech and crash of crushed metal somewhere behind me and the ground vibrates. I risk a look over my shoulder and the shock of what I see almost makes me stumble.

Armand and Chi are no longer behind us.

I slam on the brakes, using a couple of souls as bounce pads to spin me around. Souls pour around me, their fear of the monster not completely overriding their fear of me. Even in their panic they avoid touching me.

The stupid, son-of-a—
It only takes a glance understand what happened. Instead of running after us, Chi cut back to save the bat-boy demon bastard. I should have known,
I should have known
. The black beast has Chi pinned down against the building near the alley where we last saw the kid. It strikes snake-like as Chi dives and rolls, barely escaping death. The monster snaps again, and Chi leaps to avoid it, but this time the monster lashes its tail from the other direction, smashing its meaty, scale-covered length into Chi’s skull in a head-on collision. Chi flies backwards, his holy blade flying from his hand, as I start running. I’m going to be too late. Far, far too late.

Then there’s a flash of movement in front of Chi and the monster rears with a scream, shaking its head wildly. Armand has jumped to the rescue and has done something to the dragon’s eye. He grabs Chi, but before he can drag his dead weight to safety, the monster recovers enough to sweep his snake-like tail into Chi and Armand, sending them flying. Armand rolls to his feet and again leaps at the monster then slides through its legs, drawing its attention away from Chi.

Meanwhile, the pain of smacking the pavement seems to have roused Chi. He’s pushed himself to his knees by the time I reach him. I finish the job, hauling him to his feet. I look up to see Jo coming through the crowd and I literally toss a dizzy Chi into her arms before diving after Armand. On the way I pick up a piece of splintered car and hurl it at the monster’s head. It misses, but it has to lunge out of the way long enough for me join Armand behind a grey minivan. He’s pressed against its side, panting and blinking like he’s trying to clear his head. His shirt is ripped, as is the knee of his pants, and he’s bleeding profusely from a gash on his forehead.

“What were you two thinking?” It comes rather more high-pitched and screechy than I intend. I rip off my shirt and wad it against his wound. While he holds it to his head, I sneak a peek at the monster. He stalks us, flipping cars looking for us.

“Chi. It was all Chi. And anyway.” Armand’s grin looks a bit like a grimace. The blood from his head wound has run all the way down his face and outlines his teeth in red. “You did say to die for you.”

“Technically you were dying for Chi.”

“No. Technically I was saving Chi.
He
wouldn’t celebrate my death.”

“You’re not even dead, so it’s moot, isn’t it?” I sneak another peak and a car comes whizzing at me and I duck.

We’ve been spotted.

“Time to go.” I grab Armand by the arm. He comes to his feet a bit wobblier than I’d prefer for someone who has to out run a giant monster. No time to think about it, though, and I jerk him by the arm, launching our bodies away from the car just as the beast swipes it with an enormous claw, sending it careening down the street, bouncing off other cars and wiping out fleeing souls as if they were bowling pins. My dive was off balance, hauling Armand as I was, and I have to release him so we can catch our balance. I manage to keep my feet, and am relieved to see Armand has also. No words are needed—we run like hell toward the underground entrance of the demon manse.

Behind us, the beast bellows its rage.

As we near the building, Jo and Chi materialize from behind a flipped car, where they’ve been waiting for us. I don’t slow and surpass a still-woozy Chi, catching up to Jo just as we reach the barrier that is keeping the souls from entering our destination. Jo flings out her hands without breaking stride and she leaps down the stairs with me on her heels. She runs—
wham
—into a door, and I slam into her just as she turns the knob. Chi rams into me, then Armand into him, and we all crash through the doorway to land on the floor in a heap. I was knocked sideways and spun to land on my ass, staring back out the door we just came through—where the dragon still hunts us. It lets out a blood-curdling scream and dives towards us. I kick wildly with my feet, trying to back-pedal away from the door, just as it smashes its enormous head into the door frame, snapping and screaming its frustration as it shoves its snout through the hole, its snapping jaws a mere yard from my feet. It batters the door frame with its head, and the wood begins to crack and give under the assault. I scream some colorful amalgamation of every swear word I know in an embarrassingly high pitch as I shove backwards, crablike.

Behind me I hear a tinkling laugh. The noise is so incongruous, it works like a slap, waking me to my surroundings.

I twist, looking behind me—and find a room full of demons, lounging, drinks in hand. The laugh comes from an overdressed demon in a black sequined mini-dress, but it sets off—or maybe it’s my incredulous look that does it—a wave of laughter from the other dozen or so demons in the room. I try to scrape together a bit of dignity, but the monster at the door chooses that moment to snap again, and I let out a little yelp as I leap to my feet.

The laughs turn into roars. The delicate flower of my dignity can only take so much abuse.