Then I saw it.
Two grooves, barely identifiable, right by the connection point of the roof and the mesh. That looks like something. They have to get these piglets in here somehow. I bet there’s an elevator or another door in the floor, and I bet that switch opens it up.
Finding the piglet button was helpful, but that still left the problem of the shackle attached to my ankle.
If I couldn’t get it off, I couldn’t engage the switch to see what happened because I couldn’t reach it. The piglets scurried back and forth, giving me a wide berth, squeaking like mad. I’m sure they were confused as to why I wasn’t tearing them to shreds with thirsty abandon.
I refocused my energy on my ankle. “Get out of my way,” I muttered as I swatted one of them away. A few of them were becoming a bit too curious. As I worked, my hand accidentally struck the underside of the bench. Did you feel that? I quickly rolled onto my back and stretched myself under the bench across from me. Sure enough, each seat had its own release button. It was seamlessly made and almost undetectable, integrated into the material, just like everything else around here.
I slid out, trying not to cringe too much about my choice to roll around in the muck again, and ran my hand under the bench closest to my ankle. I felt the shallow depression and jabbed my finger in it.
Nothing happened.
I pressed it over and over like an irritated salesman ringing a doorbell. Dammit, why isn’t this working? I finally stopped and all at once the shackle popped off.
Victory at last. I whipped my leg out and stood as quickly as I could. The rails had stayed closed and the piglets continued to alternately cower and zip around the small space. The first order of business was to set them free.
I punted one away from my foot and strode to the entrance, which was now solid from the waist down like the rest of the gazebo, and brought one foot up and rammed it into the material. Hard. It splintered, but in a funny way, like a crack in a block of ice.
One more kick and a big chunk flew out. It was a hole big enough for the little beasts, so I was satisfied. I turned, thinking they’d all be lined up behind me waiting to scurry to freedom.
Not one of them moved.
“Shoo!” I yelled. “Get out of here.” I backed out of the way so they could run. When they didn’t react, I bent over and waved my arms, trying to spark them into action. “Go free and be my diversion! While the demons worry about you, I’m going to make myself scarce.”
A few of them waddled up to the opening and sniffed, but none of them ventured out.
It appeared they were smarter than they looked.
I had to give them some credit. I didn’t want to go out there either. But before I could toss them out one by one, a tremor shook the ground, followed by a loud hum. It sounded like a hundred elevators had engaged at once. I glanced around me, somewhat surprised. The sun had set and I hadn’t noticed. I’d been too busy trying to free myself from the manacle.
The humming sound whirled for about ten seconds. The piglets began to squeal like never before. Their cries held an anguish I was beginning to feel myself as I watched all the doors across the all the buildings slide open at once.
5
I was frozen into place as I watched hundreds of demons emerge from the newly opened doors. They filed out into the square in orderly rows. They were all dressed alike in the same outfit, a dark-colored jumpsuit with what appeared to be zippers up the sides. They could’ve been strips of metal, but I couldn’t see the small details because the twilight made it too hard.
Every demon exiting the buildings had very precise features. Human, but too sculpted. No flaws, hair perfectly slicked back, skin shiny. They clearly mimicked their leader in their appearance. It was surprising they weren’t in their more reptilian forms. The Prince of Hell had been glamoured on my plane, so here, on their home turf, I’d expected to see the demons in their truest forms. It seemed like a lot of work to be glamoured all the time. But there was no mistaking it, they’d all been ordered to look the same—exactly like the Prince himself.
It was super strange and more than a little unsettling.
My wolf snarled, snapping me out of my stupor. I dropped to the floor of the gazebo. We were out of time. None of them had spotted me, as far as I knew, which was a miracle. But then, they hadn’t been expecting an intruder. Having a fugitive in their midst had likely never happened before. But they would scent me soon enough. I was covered in rancid piglet juice, so that helped. It was weird to be thankful for putrid blood and guts, but at this moment I was. I also smelled, at least partially, like a demon. I hadn’t triggered any of their alarms yet, so it was safe to assume whatever magic had mixed with mine was keeping me cloaked for the time being.
Before I could decide if I should flip the lever in the ceiling, clear liquid started pouring over me from small sprinklers that had just emerged from strategic points around the gazebo. A beat later small drain valves slid open in the floor. As the strange wetness coated me, a voice came over a loudspeaker in a language that was clearly Demonish, followed by English, likely for the imps: “Cleaning commencing. Please wait in an orderly line.”
The liquid flowing over me, however, wasn’t water.
It was thicker and slimier—like water mixed with gelatin. The bits and blood attached to my body coagulated and slid right down the drains, cleanly and efficiently. We have to escape before the cleaning is over. This has given us a few minutes grace period, but we have to move. The piglets scurried around squealing and slipping in the liquid gel as they struggled to find some traction.
I shimmied on my belly, batting them away from me, and made my way over to the TV trays. The hatch was just big enough for my body to squeeze through. It would’ve been nice to know what was down there ahead of time, but it had to be better than what was up here. Right? I didn’t have to worry about convincing myself for long, because there was no way I could take on a legion of demons myself. It was exactly like what I’d told Tyler and Danny when we’d scaled the mountain to Selene’s lair. An army of anything could defeat even the strongest supernatural.
The plastic trays had to have been stacked by something, so that meant a workroom or assembly line below. That equaled places to hide until daylight. The demons had come up in elevators, so their habitat had to be underground. Going below was my only option now that the horde was here for their evening meal.
I grabbed a handful of trays and lifted them out, trying to slide them as quietly as I could under the benches. Instead they shot like Frisbees around the slippery mess and the piglets hissed at the intrusion. I ignored them. Luckily the clatter was covered up by the still-running sprinklers in all the gazebos. The cleaning process was loud, and all the other piglets had started shrieking like never before, knowing dinnertime was upon them.