“We have to go!” he shouted.
Sam looked back to the space he’d summoned his demons, watching as Tate formed. When she was fully transformed before them, she gasped, her eyes opening wide in fear. Sam didn’t have time to explain, didn’t have time to say anything as she began to panic and question and pant at being out of the chains.
“Take her!” Sam said fast. “Millie cover him. I’ll get Trey and Nolan.”
Damien and Millie didn’t argue. Damien scooped Tate into his arms and Millie followed him up and out of the tunnel just as a surge of water came draining down into the cellar. The pair disappeared, Sam turning and waiting on his shadows to bring the other two.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered, cursing the slowness he had succumbed to. Two gunshots sounded, muffled by the rain. Trey gasped as he emerged from the darkness, and Sam pressed his hands to the demon’s shoulders to try and calm him down. But Trey winced with the panic and movement, falling back to the now dampening ground.
“Samarius—“
“I got you,” Sam promised. “We’re going home. We’re just—“
“SAM!” Millie shouted down. “Sam, we have to go now!”
Nolan began to emerge. Sam held one of Trey’s wounds as his friend showed himself, and when Nolan finally appeared, Millie was down the tunnel again.
“Tanks,” she panted. “Two on the horizon.”
“Let’s get them up,” he grunted, his arms under Trey. “I’ll take care of it.”
Damien met them halfway down and took Trey from Sam’s grasp. He and Millie ran, carrying the demons to the truck where they loaded them up. And Sam…
Sam climbed the ladder on the side of the truck as Millie climbed into the driver’s seat. Damien caught his arm.
“This is where I leave you,” Damien shouted over the rain. “I’ll hold them—“
“I can handle this. Get to the woods,” Sam interjected. “You take care of these people and get home as soon as possible.” He reached out and clapped Damien’s hand. “Thank you.”
Damien squeezed Sam’s hand back, and he gave him a nod. “I’ll be home in a week,” he swore.
Without another word, Damien bolted through the pouring rain toward the forest where Sam knew the demon had an escape plan. Sam ensured Damien’s escape with more rain and his own diversion. He hit the top of the truck twice as he climbed atop the cab, and Millie’s laugh sounded as she put the truck in drive.
Sam had forgotten how chaotic a driver Millie was, but he didn’t have time to think about it as the rains parted and he spotted the two tanks she’d told him about.
Millie swerved hard left, directing them out of the way and allowing Sam to focus in on the tanks as they lined in behind them. He pressed his hands to the ground, crouching to one knee, and he sent shadows swarming across the air in their direction.
The first tank flew backwards, stalling upright, the second running into it. An explosion ripped through the air, fire mixing with the pelting rain screaming over the air.
Sam stared at the explosion a moment before swinging into the cab through the open window. Millie let out a shrill holler as he shook the rain out of his hair, and then she blew the horn twice in celebration.
Flash flooding poured over the roads, melting away poor fencing at every checkpoint. A few soldiers ran out to meet them with guns, apparently having heard Death was in the realm. But Sam washed them out with the wind and the rain. The clouds were so thick that darkness came early. And by the time they reached the western border of the Spine, it was sunset.
Five of Damien’s men met them. Sam let the rain up as they cut the engine. Sam climbed out in a hurry, going to the back of the truck to check on the three they’d brought back.
But just as he did, gunshots ran out.
A gargled scream cut the air, followed by the growls of demons shifting into their more dangerous forms. Sam didn’t move as his demons began their prowl.
Heads ripped, bodies shredded. The shifters leapt on their assailants and let go of every restraint they’d ever given themselves. Millie and one other woman, a fawn shifter, crouched behind a fallen tree, rifles going off as they plucked men off one by one.
Sam crawled up the ladder and laid on the top, eager to get a view of how large the legion was that had come upon them, when a familiar deathhound wretched a man’s head from his body and then jumped on the truck to join Sam.
Rolfe shifted into himself, lying down at Sam’s side to watch the carnage, wincing with almost every blow from the rifles so close to them.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked. “You’re supposed to be—“
“Heard it on the radios that Death had shown himself in Firemoor,” Rolfe said. “Prei called to every legion to converge and hunt you down for harboring traitors.”
