DEVIL’S BITE: Book #3 of the DOOMSDAY Series

1. On the Menu

JON

Death wasn’t something Jon Bishop feared. In fact, he often looked forward to it. But the prospect of dying without putting up a good fight had never occurred to him. Being choked by a stupid machine was not the way he wanted to go out.

Anton had saved Jon’s life by cutting the chain on the demon choking machine, and though Jon didn’t remember any of it, he knew it was the closest he’d ever come to dying. But the down payment for Anton’s heroics had been a vicious beating by yet another Blue Whipper. Anton had a dozen new wounds to add to the scars he’d gotten before. The final debt would be paid when all the caged humans were slaughtered and tossed into the soup in a few hours, if not sooner.

Jon studied GreenSlade, the gray man with a plan who also waited to be executed. GreenSlade had slate-colored skin and light-yellow teeth. Who he was and where he’d come from Jon couldn’t begin to guess, but GreenSlade had gotten a key for the cage from somewhere, and now they had a chance to get out. Jon was certain they could escape the cage, but after that the plan went to hell. The success of their escape was a crap shoot, but they had always pulled together to help each other whenever the demons beat one of them senseless, and they would do it again. Teamwork may have been the one factor that had kept the three of them alive this long. No one could survive so much punishment and deprivation on his or her own.

“It’s pleasant down here,” said Anton, lying on his belly. “Without that ugly Slunch snapping his whip in our faces. That big, blue buttwipe.”

Chris nodded. “I almost squealed like a child when I saw his head roll down the chute.” They all laughed, even Marcus, who was barely alive.

The cage was about the size of a one-car garage, but with a slightly lower ceiling. There were four cages in that part of the cavern, but only this one was occupied. Two man-sized demon guards paced back and forth on either side of the cage. They both wore armor and carried long, sharp spears. They had been on guard for many hours, and Jon figured they were probably bored out of their minds. Their levels of alertness had to be at an all-time low.

Anton raised his head and looked behind them. “There’s the Ramp.”

Jon nodded. “Home’s just up that path. It’ll be a good climb, but we can make it. We just need to get out of here.” He looked to his right, in the opposite direction. “That big room. Guard’s quarters?”

The area beyond that part of the wall was a huge, open-air chamber with oversized steps and an armed guard. The guard was massive, at least as tall as the Blue Whipper Jon had killed, and heavily armored. The Guard Demon had three arms, one for holding a shield and the others for wielding swords. Jon smiled at its intimidating appearance.

“Since we’re on tonight’s menu, which would you razher be?” asked GreenSlade “Main course or dessert?”

“Main course,” said Anton. “Maybe when they eat me they’ll get sick and die. If I can’t fight them to the death, then I’ll fight them from beyond…in the soup.”

They all laughed, but it was an empty sound. A threat with no real hope could only be so funny.

About then, Dante arrived with a bucket of dirty water. He scooped out a cup and passed it through the bars. His puppy dog eyes were grim as if his best friend had recently died. Down in the demon world, that was a good possibility. He spoke to them apologetically.

“The demons wand you do drink wader do sofden your flesh.”

“I’m not drinking a damn thing!” declared Marcus Conn, who became suddenly animated. “I’m with Anton. Make me the main course so they can choke.” The effort must have exhausted him because he closed his eyes and became silent again. Jon felt bad for the sick man. The only way Marcus would leave the cave alive was to be carried out.

me“Water’s nasty,” said Jon. “I’d rather die of thirst.”

“I’m very sorry aboud this,” lamented Dante, shaking his head sadly. “I like working with you.”

“I like working with you, too, Dante.” Jon stretched his legs. The first thing he noticed was the Demon Boss, leering at him from his open chamber. Up this close, the Boss was much bigger than he’d looked from the ledge when Jon, Travis, and Kelly had first seen him after the earthquake. Jon could only guess his height, but it had to be over twenty-five feet, with well-muscled legs as thick as bridge pylons. His body was massive enough to fill the entryway to his chambers. He dwarfed the bulky guard nearby.

The Boss glared at Jon, then smiled horribly. He licked his lips hungrily before retiring within the chamber. When he stepped away from the entrance, Jon saw something amazing. He scrambled across the cage and stood beside GreenSlade, practically drooling. It was the biggest, most incredible sword he’d ever seen. He pressed his face against the bars to get a better view. “Look at that!”

Dante moved to Jon’s end of the cage. “Id’s the Boss’ sword. I’ve seen him use id do kill…well, do execude slaves. Id’s quick, unless he wants some spord oud of you. That’s whad he’ll use on you this evening. All of you.”

“How did I miss that?” asked Jon. “It’s beautiful.”

“You were unconscious for the most part,” explained Anton.

Jon turned back to the others. “I want that sword for my collection.”

“You’re an optimist,” said Chris.

“I want that sword.” Jon lay on the cage floor and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “This is the first time we’ve been able to relax since we got here. I never realized how tired I was. I feel like a zombie.”

Anton and GreenSlade nodded in agreement.

Chris became agitated. “Don’t talk about zombies,” he said, looking furtively around them. “I had a bad experience.”

“With zombies?” asked Marcus, never raising his head. “I hate to disillusion you, my friend, but there’s no such thing.”

“I’ve seen them,” Chris explained. “They aren’t exactly like the zombies in movies. I mean they don’t go around eating people. They only want to bite you. Just once. A nasty wound the size of a quarter. And they talk.”

“What do zombies have to talk about?” asked Jon, struggling not to laugh at his friend and foster dad. This was certainly a new angle for Chris. He noticed GreenSlade wasn’t laughing.

Chris went on. “Maybe talk is the wrong word. They don’t make any sense; they just keep saying ‘Muh-muh-muh-muh’. It’s a terrifying thing to hear when there’s a lot of them.”

Marcus raised his head. “Muh-muh-muh-muh?”

Dante looked at the others, confused. “Whad’s a zombie?”

Again, everyone laughed, except Chris and GreenSlade. The gray man gazed at the cage floor.

“I’ve seen your zombies,” said GreenSlade, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “Zhey can be deadly in great numbers.”