Page 89 of Deck of Scarlets
“Any casualties?” Baron queried as he dragged one of the black crates from the back out onto the pavement.
“Just one.” Chloe pointed to a dead man by the steps, slouched over; his skin had a powdery complexion. Most of his clothes were ripped to shreds, showing wounds in all different angles, blood gushing from the one on his stomach. “He looks fresh, which could also explain why they’re not out here waiting for us.”
My anxiety made my stomach turn. The poor guy never had a chance. “I thought the original fleet cleaned out the nests?”
Baron tucked a makeshift bomb in his quiver, handing a second to Josh. “Looks like more showed up.”
“More victims, more Magidoz. Who knows? That’s why we have the bombs,” affirmed Chloe.
I gulped. “What if there’s more victims?”
“If there’s more, we will cross that bridge when we get there.”
That wasn’t reassuring, and the longer we debated this, the more civilians could be suffering or dead. Was I about to shit my pants from fear? Yeah, but knowing innocent civilians were getting killed awakened something inside me.
I took a step closer to the apartment, but the cape snagged on something. “What the hell?”
I twisted, struggling against the hold that appeared bunched up in the back to find Josh grasping the material, shaking his head in disapproval.
“Chloe and Baron are taking the front; we’re going out back. Let’s pray the other four are already underground.”
He dropped his hold on my cape to then line the arrow up with his bow. “I want you to lead the way.”
“Is that wise considering I’m new to all this?” I asked nervously. There was a solid chance my stupid ass would walk us right into the claws of a Magidoz demon.
Apprehension must have been obvious on my face because Josh lowered his bow, using his free hand to cup my cheek. “I’m sorry I’m making this difficult for you. I don’t mean to come off like an ass, but I know you can do it, Remi. You were born to be a Scarlet.”
His words caught me off guard. I tried to scramble my brain after his apology, one I didn’t expect nor think he would need to give.
I swallowed a hard lump in my throat and stepped back from his hand, watching it drop to his side. There was a good chance he spoke those words to get my ass into gear, and I got it, but in some twisted way, I wanted it to mean more, and it was wrong. I knew that.
Even now, as we stood inches apart, my body called to his touch, begging for it to come back to caress my skin.
Josh’s face dropped back into that serious expression. How quickly that sincere speech disappeared into thin air.
I rolled my shoulders and unsheathed my dagger from the holster, nodding once to both Chloe and Baron as we made our separate ways to the vacant apartments.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Itried to keep my cool by breathing steadily through my nose, the pommel slick from my clammy hands, Josh right on my tail as we inched our way toward the back.
The smell of rotting flesh hit us just as we rounded the corner, discovering four bodies were scattered throughout the small parking lot, or what was left of them. Black sludge coated most of the ground, and some cars were painted in the aftermath. From the street, you couldn’t tell what carnage lay just beyond the property line, and that scared the absolute shit out of me. How many places had I passed by, not aware of what was beyond?
The sight of the slaughter of innocent individuals had me hesitating just before the steps that led down to the basement of the building.
I wanted to vomit so bad from the smell alone.
How many more were victims of such gruesome creatures?
“Fucking Magidoz residue,” Josh muttered.
The back of my neck tingled with unease. The last time I saw that demon was behind the church on school grounds while Kal fought for his life, and I cowered in a corner.
“Keep going,” Josh said, nudging me lightly. “I know this is hard, but we have to keep going, and remember, Olemaks are also around.”
It took a couple of minutes to make my legs move, but eventually, we stood in front of the steel door, slightly ajar, with human blood smeared on the rusted knob. Using my foot to open it wider, a blast of cold air was something of a relief from the wretched heat as we prowled inside. But that signified death, ruining the reprieve, even if it were only for a few seconds.
A flickering lightbulb hung from a wire in the ceiling, swaying softly, illuminating small parts of the damp basement. A trail of blood continued from where we entered leading around crumbling drywall. Water dripped off one of the many pipes that lined the ceiling into a puddle on the cement floor. The smell of decaying human flesh became stronger, to the point where I had to swallow the vomit that was forming in the back of my throat. A body was nailed to the drywall to our right, and not a single drop of blood oozed out.