Dawn’s Edge
“This is the most adrenaline-fueled excerpt on this site (so far). I love the mixture of military tactics and supernatural foes, all filtered through the eyes of a sarcastic, determined soldier who refuses to lie down and die. You can’t rely on hope, but it sure is a good motivator.”
This story won a Silver Honorable Mention in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest.
“There’s no way we can do this.”
She’s sitting in the dirt off to the side, her back against a ponderosa pine. Her knees are pulled up to her chest and she’s hugging them so tight her fingers look like they belong to a skeleton. She meets my eye. Tears stream down her face.
“Hey.” I walk over to her and squat to get my eyes on a level with hers, “Negative thoughts get you killed. We’ve made it this far. Now we keep going.”
“But . . . back there . . .”
“Back there sucked.” I let just a tiny piece of my pain color my voice, “but it’s done. It’s behind us, and if we want to survive, we have to move forward. We have to set up that portal.”
She stares at me so long I wonder if something’s short-circuited in her head. But then she nods, blows out a huge breath, and pushes to her feet.
I clap her on the shoulder. “Good, now let’s get going.”
We’re moving off through the trees within a few minutes, dispersed just in case we come across any random demons. It’s slow, boring work bushwhacking through the wilderness, but we’re close enough to the town that I can’t risk us using the road anymore.
I just wish I could keep the pine needles and other debris out of my collar. At least the scents of pine and earth are pleasant. I’ve patrolled in worse places.
The sun’s hit the horizon by the time we rally up behind the last hill before the town. I send a few guys to the hilltop to watch the town while the rest of us study the Dawn’s Edge tourist map the Intel nerds found somewhere. The cartoonish rendition of the main drag is too cutesy for my taste, but I smile a little when I see the stick-figure demon some smartass drew near the historic old church.
“That’s where the Gate is, right?” I ask the scientist, pointing at the church.
She purses her lips and nods. “It’s the most likely location, given its proximity to –”
“Great.” I trace my finger along the town’s main street. “Looks like this is the quickest ingress.”
“Do we know the demon situation?” Ramos asks, and I call a lookout down from the top of the hill.
I have a hard time believing him when he tells me he hasn’t seen a single demon moving about the town. It sounds a little too easy. I hope the town’s as deserted as he says.
You can’t rely on hope, but you also can’t just sit around behind a hill deep in demon territory because you’re afraid to approach their Gate. You have to move with a purpose.
So we enter the town, moving fast and tight. The light’s fading fast, throwing long shadows that twist and mingle at our feet, dogging our steps, blurring the building outlines even as we watch.
The shadows feel real, too. Like a heavy, stifling blanket, muting our footsteps as we run across the pavement. Grabbing at us with ephemeral claws.
I’m seized by a sudden desire to get the hell out of here. Demons love the dark.
But we have a mission to do. If we succeed, humankind might just have a chance against the powers of Hell.
I really am not exaggerating.
I’m pressed up against the side of a building, waiting for my turn to sprint across an intersection, when twin walls of demons fall on us from the front and the right. Too many to count. Shrieking and hollering, cutting into my guys with claws and teeth.
It’s a perfect ambush, and we walked right into it.
My men are shouting, firing their weapons into the demon hordes.
I’m firing my weapon, too, trying to keep my guys alive. But there’s too many demons, and I’m helpless to stop them from cutting first one . . . then three . . . then five men down.
Ramos drops right at my feet, and I fire point blank into the doglike demon that’s got its teeth in his throat. The thing dies, but it’s already too late for Ramos.
The scientist presses up against my shoulder, cowering into me like I’m going to be able to keep her alive. I don’t share her confidence.
There’s a bubble of open space around us, and I replace my mag before grabbing up Ramos’ pack and slinging it over my shoulder. Can’t lose the portal equipment.
I scan the street, thinking fast. We need a defensible position.
“Fall back to the church!” I shout, pitching my voice to carry over the battle.
Then the scientist and I sprint the hundred yards to the church. We leap over bodies – demons and men – and I’m firing my rifle into demons as we move. We reach the church and fling ourselves inside and I spin around to cover our six.
Two of my guys rush in after us – Hutchins and Schmidt – and slam the doors behind them. Demons thud into the doors from the other side.
“What about the others?” I ask, even as I’m dragging a pew over to barricade the doors.
“Down.” For once, there’s no joke in Hutchins’ voice.
Something heavy settles on my chest. Something dark. But I shake it off.
I have to keep the rest of us alive. We have to get that portal up.
We put our backs into building the barricade. Even the scientist helps. That done, I lean against a pew and look around the church.
There’s nothing here.
Not a damn thing.
“Where’s the Gate?” I grab the scientist by her skinny arms and shake her. “You said it would be here.”
“I said it was the most likely place!” she shouts, voice echoing in the empty church. She looks confused as hell and I know she’s telling the truth.
I let her go and meet Hutchins’ and Schmidt’s gazes. They’re standing by the barricade, faces shadowed in the dim light.
“What now?” Hutchins asks.
Something screeches behind me. I whirl around, weapon raised.
Three demons burst through an interior door, sprinting right at us. Our gunfire cuts them down.
“Maybe . . . maybe the Gate is somewhere further inside the church?” That’s the scientist.
“You think, genius?” I motion to Hutchins and Schmidt, and we move toward the door the demons came through, weapons trained at the opening. The scientist falls in behind us.
We enter a hallway, lined with open doors, smelling of must and rot. It’s chilly here.
More demons race at us from the far end, and we open fire until nothing’s moving. We keep moving forward, checking the empty rooms as we pass, making for the end of the hallway.
Stairs lead down. Something’s flickering down there, making crazy shadows.
“It had to be in the basement,” Hutchins says as I motion for him to take point. I’m right behind him, then the useless scientist. Schmidt’s pulling rear security.
“Carry this,” I say to the scientist, sliding Ramos’ pack onto her slim shoulders. She staggers under the weight but nods. “And get your weapon out. It’s not doing you any good in your holster.”
She fumbles at the safety strap and pulls out her pistol. It wobbles in her hands.
I flick the safety off for her. “Don’t shoot me in the back of the head.”
She nods and we head down the stairs.
Hutchins cries out at the bottom, going down, spraying bullets up into the ceiling.
I rush after him with a shout and Schmidt pushes past the scientist to help. He and I kill the demons, but Hutchins is already dead, mouth open like he’s still yelling.
Ahead . . .
It’s this black archway, molded from some kind of shiny rock. The air inside the arch is shimmering and iridescent, like a Japanese beetle, beautiful and gross all at once.
When the Intel nerds briefed us on what the Gate should look like, they used vague words like “probably a shining in the air.” They said nothing about a stone arch.
Frigid air wafts from the archway, stinging my throat when I take a deep breath.
I thought Hell was supposed to be hot.
A demon emerges from the shining Gate like you’d push through a bead curtain. Schmidt and I immediately put it down.
“Where the hell did that arch come from?” I ask as I reload my weapon. Clicks from next to me tell me Schmidt’s doing the same.
“I’m not sure.” The scientist shakes her head. “The demons must’ve built it when they first got to our world.”
Two more demons poke their heads through the Gate, and Schmidt and I fire immediately into their faces.
“You’re up, genius,” I say to the scientist, who’s just standing there like it’s Sunday afternoon and she’s got nothing to do. “Time for you to set up the portal equipment.”
She looks over at me, eyes wide. “What portal equipment?”
I groan. You’ve got to be kidding me.
