Winter looked up. Three more people lay dead off to her left, speared neatly through the head. Alex was gathering up her pack, and Abraham already had his on. He was pointing down the hill, into the valley, and Winter turned in that direction.
Red lights, like distant torches, but always in pairs. Dozens of them, spread through the forest, flickering as they moved among the trees. Glowing eyes, every gaze locked in one direction.
We’re dead. There were too many, far too many. The sea of lights went on and on.
“Winter!” Alex said nervously.
“Higher,” Winter said. “If we can get over the hill, maybe we can lose them on the downslope. Find somewhere to hide.” She looked from Alex to Abraham, and both of them looked back at her with trust in their eyes. They think I know what to do. Winter wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
*
The night seemed to last forever.
At some point, Winter realized the Beast was driving them, chivying them as it had back in Elysium. The red lights were always visible, a cordon of flickering eyes, behind them but drawing ever closer. It didn’t have to show its position that way; it could hide the glow. But it served the Beast’s purpose that they exhaust themselves running.
Unfortunately, it’s damned good tactics. Winter, Abraham, and Alex could tire and fall. The Beast’s bodies would push themselves to the physical limits of exhaustion, and if they collapsed, there were always more.
They climbed until they reached the spine of the hills, breath puffing in the chill night air as they scrambled across patches of bare rock to reach the line of the forest on the other side. During the day, at a leisurely pace, the change from ascent to descent might have represented some relief, but now it only made things more difficult. Starlight barely picked out the ground ahead, and revealed nothing but slippery mud or shifting rocks that could easily swallow an ankle.
For a time they lost sight of their pursuers, and Winter allowed herself a splinter of hope. Then, pausing for a desperate swig from her canteen, she saw the flicker of red on the hilltop.
Abraham had long ago gone silent, his face pale and limbs trembling. Even Alex was panting for breath, her short hair spiky with sweat.
“We should... find somewhere... to make a stand,” Alex said. “Make sure they can only come... one way. We could hold them off.”
“Forever?” Winter shook her head. “If we stop moving, it’ll just bring up more bodies.”
“We can’t keep this up, either.” Alex watched the red lights disappear momentarily, then emerge again. “Maybe we can double back? Punch through them?”
“Maybe.” But Winter didn’t think there was much chance. The problem was that the Beast was a single opponent, not a collection of individuals. Individuals would get confused, in the cold and dark. She could try to bluff them, disorient them. But the Beast... “We can’t punch through. If even one of them sees us, it’ll know what we’re trying. We need somewhere to hide. Look for a... a cave, or something.”
Alex nodded. It was a slim hope to cling to, but better than nothing at all.
No caves were immediately in evidence, not that Winter was confident she’d be able to see one in the dark. They picked their way down the slope, then alongside a streambed, staying out from under the trees to make the best use of the light. Can the Beast see in the dark? Or is it leaving a trail of broken bodies behind it?
“There’s something up there!” Alex’s finger stabbed out, pointing at the ridge ahead of them. “I saw someone moving.”
“Then we’re dead,” Winter said. “It’s got us surrounded.”
“No red,” Alex said. “Could it be someone else?”
Winter was about to ask who else would be out in the woods in the middle of the night, but at that moment a pair of shapes burst from the underbrush, eyes blazing with crimson light. Clever bastard, Winter had time to think. She’d counted on more of a lead, but the Beast had obviously let its fittest bodies range ahead of the pack. These two were both big brutes—stocky, heavily built men with the look of laborers. One of them came directly at Winter, and the other went for Alex.
Winter clawed for her saber, while Alex raised her hands. A spear of darkness stabbed out, but exhaustion had slowed Alex’s reflexes, and the red-?eye lurched sideways, taking the bolt in the shoulder instead of the head. An instant later it was on top of her, slamming into her with a body blow that carried her off her feet. They hit the ground together with a clatter of stones.
The second red-?eye got within arm’s length of Winter before she got her sword free, and she backed away, slashing wildly. The weapon hacked a gash in the thing’s arm, which he completely ignored. Winter sidestepped and lunged, sliding the saber in under the red-?eye’s armpit. It slipped between his ribs, burying itself almost to the hilt, and as he collapsed it was torn from her grasp.
Hell. She didn’t bother to try to retrieve it from the thrashing body, just turned and ran for Alex. The girl was on her back, with the big man kneeling on her, both hands pressed against the back of her head. As Winter closed, Abraham slammed his stick against the red-?eye’s skull with all his strength, but the thing didn’t do more than sway. All right, then. How about this?
Winter grabbed the creature by the back of the neck and unleashed Infernivore. The demon flowed eagerly through the contact, trying to grab hold of the thread of otherworldly energy that animated the red-?eye. As it had before, though, the Beast withdrew from its vessel. The big man slumped forward, suddenly limp, and Infernivore wrapped itself back around Winter irritably, deprived of its prey. Winter felt a sudden gut ?punch of fatigue, as though she’d just finished a sprint. She shook it off, grabbing the corpse by the shoulders and rolling it off Alex.
“Abraham!” Winter went to one knee beside the girl. There was blood on her scalp where she’d hit the ground, but more worrying was her ankle, which had bent entirely the wrong way under the red-?eye’s weight. She was breathing, but she didn’t seem conscious. “She’s hurt!”
Abraham scrambled in beside her and laid his hands on Alex’s back. He closed his eyes, concentrating hard.
“Her skull’s not fractured. Nothing more than bruises, except the ankle.” He looked up at Winter. “I can put it back together, but...”
“We don’t have time.” Winter turned. No glowing red eyes were visible behind them, but she saw moving shadows in the underbrush. More of the Beast’s bodies, closing in. “Can you carry her?”
“Not for long.” Abraham’s lips were pale. “I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry.”
“Wouldn’t work anyway. Too slow.” Winter walked over to the now-?still red-?eye and yanked her saber free, wiping the blood on the dead man’s shirt. “Heal her. As fast as you can.”
“You should go on,” he said abruptly. “Leave us. I’ll help her and then... find somewhere to hide, like you said.”
I knew he would try that. She hadn’t known Abraham long, but he seemed the self-?sacrificial type. Why else would he even be here? “No.”