Armageddon (Angelbound)

Walker stares at the image and winces. “But your father could help.”


“Dad’s your guy if you want a war and that’s it, Walker.” I yank my wrist away. “Enough. Lincoln and I would rather hike through the desert alone than have this conversation every five minutes.”

Walker turns plaintive eyes toward Lincoln. “Is that really what you’d say?”

“Word for word, Shield Brother.” He points to a spot on the horizon. “Five leagues to the southwest.”

Walker opens another portal. Our little group steps through, tumbles through more darkness, and then rolls out onto a new patch of fiery desert. This time we’ve come out on flatlands.

I shield my eyes and scan the landscape. A darkened green line snakes across the reddened landscape. My heartbeat speeds with excitement.

This is it. The Walls of Hell.

Lincoln steps up to my side, wrapping his long arm around my waist. “We found it.”

Kiya bobs on my shoulder, chattering happily.

I slip my hand into Lincoln’s. “We better go.” I glance over my shoulder at Walker. He stands like a forlorn sentinel, a white-faced figure in black robes against the backdrop of red desert.

“Thanks, Shield Brother,” says Lincoln.

“I know this was hard for you.” I try to smile, although it comes off as more of a squint. “I appreciate your standing by us. And Maxon, too.”

Walker’s large all-black eyes glisten with emotion. “You go along now. I’ll be waiting.”

“We don’t know how long it will take,” I say.

“Or where we’ll come out,” adds Lincoln.

“That doesn’t matter,” says Walker simply. “I’ll be here.”

I frown. “It’s not exactly safe.”

Walker shakes his head. “You’re going into Hell and you’re worried about me?”

I shift my weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, I guess. I know you’re a trained warrior but you’re like my brother and I never want to say—”

“Don’t utter those words.” Walker steps up and sets his hand in mine. His skin feels cool and firm. “No farewells. Get out quickly and use your flare guns. I’ll find you.”

My voice cracks as we start to walk away. “Bye, Walker.”

“No,” he says sternly. “See you soon.”

# # #

We’ve been hiking for an hour and damn, do I ever want a drink of water. But we need to be stingy with our supplies, so Lincoln and I are only allowing ourselves the equivalent of a shot-glass full of liquid every two hours. Kiya gets all he wants since he drinks so little anyway. Besides, it’s impossible to refuse his cute little face and button eyes.

As the minutes tick by, the Walls of Hell loom larger and larger. In retrospect, we shouldn’t have sent Walker away so quickly. From our landing-spot, it looked like the wall was a stubby thing that was a short walk away.

Boy, was that ever wrong.

Lincoln pauses, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun. “We’ve got company.”

I stare in the same direction he’s looking. “I don’t see anything.” Kiya bounces on my shoulder and gestures excitedly in the same direction. “Kiya sees it, though. What am I missing?”

“You have to look—”

A black line appears on the horizon. “Oh, wait. I can see them now. Riders on horseback. Normally, I can’t find stuff like you do. At least, not when it’s so far away.”

“They were really far away. Now, not so much.”

I shake my head in confusion. “How did they get closer so quickly?”

“They’re ghoul-demon hybrids, Myla. Bandits.”

Eew.

“That’s not good.”

There’s a lot of human trafficking that goes on in Hell. Bandits abduct living mortals and then sell them to Armageddon at a huge profit. Most of these criminals are greedy ghouls, looking to make some quick gold. Normally, I wouldn’t worry because ghouls are notoriously crappy warriors, except for Aquilineans like Walker. But a hybrid?

“What’s the mix?” I ask.

“If I had to guess, I’d say they’re a cross between ghoul and demon rider.”

A lead weight of disgust settles onto my shoulders. Demon riders are like undead cowboys on steroids. And with a ghoul mix in them? They can create portals to pop in and out wherever they want. Dangerous stuff.

I scan the horizon again. “Where’d they get to now?”

The air fills with the pounding of hooves as four hybrid bandits ride out of separate portal doors, bearing down on us. The riders are rotting corpses with chunks of pink flesh torn from their faces and hands. They whoop with evil glee, lassos spinning high in the air.

“Lookie here!” cries the tallest rider. “And we didn’t even have to portal to Earth to catch these two or nothin’!”

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