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They had been so quick to rush through that portal, so eager to enact the universe’s greatest prison break, they hadn’t realized what they were getting into. It didn’t help that Lucifer placed the portal’s exit point in the middle of a desert—he probably thought it would be amusing.
As my eyes adjusted, all I could see was sand. Dunes rolled away from me, stretching far into the horizon on all sides. There was a gentle breeze in the air, and while it was hot under that blazing sun, I still felt cooler than I had been while I was in Hell.
It was a relief being here—on Earth again.
But my relief was cut short as I came fully back into my senses. It was as if my ears had popped, and now the screaming and the hissing was almost too loud for me to be able to bear. Worse, Abaddon was behind me somewhere, on the other side of the portal that was still very much open.
Shuffling my way past the screeching demons, I searched for Missolis only to find her doubled over on the sand, her hands covering her head. I grabbed hold of her shoulder to try to comfort her, but she shrugged out of my grip.
“I’m fine,” she hissed.
“Then you know we need to get out of here,” I said. “Right?”
Missolis turned her head up, and though she was still squinting against the sunlight, she stared at me. “Gather the others,” she barked as she pushed herself up and off the sand.
The others, luckily, were easy enough to find. The rebels had all crossed together and stayed in a tightly knit group, even when faced with the light of the blazing sun above us. I pulled my hood down so they could all find my pink hair, then I shrugged out of the robes I was wearing and bid my wings to manifest up and out of my back.
“Rebels!” I called out. “I know it hurts, but you must listen to me. It’s not safe here—we have to rally and leave.”
“It burns my eyes!” someone screamed.
“We should not have come here!” yelled someone else.
“I know!” I yelled, “I do, but that way is Hell, and this way lies freedom. Come with me, and I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
In truth, I had no idea where to go, but I had made a promise to Malachi that I would help these rebels once we got to the other side, and I intended on making good on that promise. Upon hearing my words, some of the demons who had been affected a little less by the sunlight burning above had started helping others get to their feet. I saw Etari come trudging through a group of rebels, with Hekata still firmly in his grasp.
She was struggling, snarling, turning her face left and right to keep any one side of her head from being exposed to the sun for too long. Many of the other demons—those most loyal to Abaddon and Lucifer—were handling the sun way worse than the rebels were. The rebels, at least, were mostly garbed in pilgrim cloaks they could use to protect themselves, the armored demons had no such luck, and the sun reflecting off their metallic gear didn’t help.
Many of them had taken to the air almost immediately and were flying aimlessly, while others were trying to burrow their way unsuccessfully into the scalding sand just to find cover.
There was no cover out here—not even a tree, nowhere to go but into that blazing sunlight.
“Can you take her with you?” I asked Etari.
With a simple nod he unfurled his massive wings and held tightly to Hekata. “We will follow you,” he said.
“Good, and Malachi?”
Etari gestured with his head. A small group of rebels was crowding over Malachi, who was laying on his back on the sand. I rushed over to them, and they let me through. He had looked like he was in bad shape in Hell, but out here… he looked worse. Not only was his skin ashen and pale, but he was also sweating and shaking.
He was mortal now, that much was clear. In Hell, only a grave injury or extreme blood loss meant death, but on Earth, something as simple as an infection could kill—and in a desert, dehydration might end half of them before they even got to see civilization. None of us had prepared for this.
“Give me some room,” I said, and I grabbed hold of the arrow in Malachi’s chest.
Malachi grunted, tensed, and grabbed my hand. “What are you doing?!” he asked through gritted teeth.
“I’m going to save your life.”
“My life doesn’t need saving,” he said through quick, short breaths.
“Shut up and don’t move.”
“No, please. Don’t!” He was fighting me, trying to take my hand off of the arrow.
“Somebody hold him down,” I said.
“What are you going to do?”
