Patrick started to explain like he was giving a presentation, but before Travis could snap on him, Cassandra cut in, “It's similar to magic missile spells in video games. Mine can shoot up to 10 before it needs to be recharged, but his is more powerful. I can also summon an eagle.” Travis knew what magic missle was from his talks with Clyde.

Now Patrick cut in. Travis read his aura, and the guy didn't seem to be the blowhard he was acting like. Maybe it was just nerves, but this guy pulsated moderate but impressive power and not a little bravery.

He started to speak slowly when Travis cut him off, “Listen, mate, I don't know what your thing is, but if I thought you were just full of hot air, I'd tell you to shut the fuck up and fight and be done. But you aren't. I can sense that you have power and are willing to fight.

You make a name for yourself by showing that off in fights like this, not with words. I'm not trying to be rude, and I respect whatever it is you are trying to do overall, but here we think fast and speak fast, and then we kill bad guys. Also, if you want to live, do as I say when I say it. Okay?”

The man deflated just a little bit, “Fine, what's the plan?” though he couldn't help himself to add, “After this is over, maybe you can tell me what makes you Caesar.”

Travis fixed him with a look and without even realizing it sent out a burst of aura that told him to listen well, “You miss the point, Pat (Travis had an innate sense that the man hated being called that). I will show you why I am in charge during this life or death struggle; afterward, you can talk about it.”

He transitioned right into directions, leaving no room for further discussion, “They are taking their time, lucky for us,” until he got an idea of the forces the demon was gathering—maybe not lucky.

“You two are going to be our front-line strikers. There is a bit of a choke point here, and I get the feeling the demon will want to flaunt his power by marching right through. Use your shots sparingly early, don't waste them on the crap; Clyde will take care of that.

Patrick, Journeyman, I can feel the power within you. Look for anything more powerful than the chaff and focus on them. Hit the backline, or if the demon starts to come forward too early, give him a taste of your charged-up wand.

Clyde, we are going to set up on the side of the house; I'll occupy the boss. If you summon your skeleton to protect the flanks and flame the hell out of anything that passes this line.” He pointed to a patch of grass that turned into cement.

The way the house was set up was advantageous to them. It was a traditional middle-class American house. If you were looking at the house, there was a longer than normal garage on the left. It had a side door out the left side, which was fenced off from the front yard and a door entering into the kitchen.

Then there was the porch that wrapped around the entire front and side of the house from the garage's endpoint all the way over. The banister was that thick plastic that had started showing up a decade or so ago, and luckily for them, it was solid up to the waist. It would guard at least a little bit against any projectiles.

Inside, all that concerned Travis was a straight run from the front door to the back—both doors no longer in place. There was a large window in the front right of the house and all along the side. Then between the living room, which you walked into, and the dining room, which was in the back of the house by the back door, there was a pass-through.

That was going to be the fallback for the mages. He explained what to do and when to do it if things went bad. Then he went back to talk to Anthony and Felix, “Can either of you fight well?”

The leader of the two and the bigger one was Anthony, “I can fight, but I have no weapons, as you know. He isn't much of a fighter...” Travis held up a hand to stop him.

“I only need one of you; the other will stay with the kid and make sure he gets out safely. Look, Felix, I know these aren't ideal circumstances, but if all else fails, I am going to stay back and hold off as many of them as I can. I want you to get Omar as far from here as you can. Then try to find your way back to base; tell Paul that I vouch for you.” They had shown them where it was after Travis was certain that neither of them had ill intentions.

Anthony looked at him, and Travis wasn't sure what he was thinking exactly. “You don't think we will make it out, do you?”

“Not all of us, no.”

“Why didn't you run?” Travis could read that this guy was fishing for something.

“No man left behind.” That's when Anthony looked up and said, “Hooah.”

“You served?” Travis asked him somewhat surprised, no particular reason why he thought, but he still was.

“Yes, sir. PFC, 3rd Battalion, 10th Mountain Division, Iraq. Two tours, 2005-06.”

“Well, hoorah back at you, private. Maybe when we get out of this, you can explain to me how you ended up in that damn cult.”

“It's not a very long story,” Travis could feel something inside the man switch as he recalled the memory, “I must have temporarily lost my mind or blacked out,” he started to tear up as he continued to talk, “and I sold my two kids into some goddamn nightmare, the leader took me in afterward.”

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Travis could sense instantly, he didn't know how but he knew, the man was put under a spell. The memory reeked of dark and nasty magic. He was uncovering features of his perception power with every person he analyzed, and this was clear as day.

He could almost feel and taste it from what would go on to be called memory magic—it's not meant literally, it's just that some things are caught up in the ether and can be seen, heard, or felt by people with certain powers.

As Anthony was trying to hold himself together, Travis blurted out in between cold sweats, “He forced you; it was magic, and that motherfucker made you believe you did it so you'd join up.”

Anthony looked at him, and Travis shook himself out of the strange reverie. They made eye contact, and Travis just nodded; at that moment, Anthony felt a tremendous loss of guilt, but also more anger and shame than a man should be able to keep within.

“They are here,” Travis muttered. He reached into his infinite bag that was always over his shoulder and either tucked under his armpit or sitting on his left shoulder blade, “Here, take this weapon, cover us from the back.” He gave him a small war axe, similar to the one Gary used to use.

Clyde had used his manipulate wood spell to strengthen the banister on the porch and block the staircase; it wouldn't hold against anything really, but it would buy what could be precious seconds.

Cassandra found Travis right before it started, “Omar does not have a concussion; he seemed to get his bell rung, but he will be fine and honestly could probably run.” She nervously laughed, and then Travis and Clyde started laughing as well.

“Typical Cass, can I call you Cass?” Travis asked.

“Sure.”

“Take your position, Cass, and good luck. If I don't make it, get them to safety; the kid and this guy here are worth saving.”

Clyde started to interject, but Travis grabbed his arm and took him into position.

The Demon was all muscle, power, pride, and ego. He was challenged by some puny human and so far had gotten the worst of it. Knowing that his God was always watching and always judging him, he knew he had to get his revenge. Even at the cost of the stupid undead's plan, whatever it was, he couldn't even remember.

This time, though, he brought all of his forces. The demon walked up the street and then turned to face the house. In front of him and shambling into place were about 40 mindless zombies. Then behind the demon were the upgraded skeleton forces, with stronger and more flexible joints, making them better fighters and less stiff.

Their weapons were also improved, with some carrying two-handed swords and others with bastard swords and large round shields. They would not be tough one on one, but versus two or three, only the most skilled fighters would not struggle.

Finally, there were the undead wolf-like creatures. These resembled Wargs from the Lord of the Rings movies, except smaller. They had misshapen faces with muscular bodies and teeth the size of a Hobbit's forearm.

They were normally undisciplined, but the demon had broken the neck of an unruly pack leader the day before; now, they listened to his orders very carefully. Though once battle started, they would probably be uncontrollable.

At the last second, the chunky mage Patrick stuck his head out, “Travis, this is important. Our master told us to keep this a secret, but you need to know. I have a teleportation ritual that can transfer up to 10 people. I had to set up the other end, and I did, back at our forward base.”

“That is great news,” Travis said.

But Clyde dampened his optimism somewhat, “how long do you need to get it to work?”

Patrick looked down, “almost 10 minutes for the max number of people. We won't leave until this fight is over, but I wanted you to know in case we get another break in the action like we just had.” Everyone acknowledged the reality and went back to their positions.

Travis or Clyde didn't have time to ask why he didn't do the spell when they did have time, but he knew the answer. He didn't realize how dire their situation was, and he thought it was best to keep it secret.

The demon now channeled his power to amplify his voice, “Human, the one that defied me. Come and fight me one on one, and I will let your people live!”

Travis wanted to accept, but he knew the offer was bullshit; as soon as he went to fight, the rest would attack. He kept his position on the side of the house. He had already told the two mages what to do if the demon started to give a speech, and that is exactly what he was doing.

As the demon spoke, each word more self-important than the last, Patrick charged up his wand and fired a magic missile right at his chest. Cas followed with back-to-back shots, trying to slow down this hulking monstrosity.

All three shots hit. Travis was about to follow up with some shots of his own, but he was positioned to help absorb the first attack which came on right after the demon took those hits. The zombies were supposed to come into the yard and keep everyone busy while the more skilled troops advanced, but before the chaff even reached the fence most of the Warg like creatures charged.

At this point the demon didn't care, as said earlier he was no Napoleon.

Bowling over the first line of zombies the Wargs (that's what Clyde started calling them and it stuck until they learned the real names) burst through the gate, a couple tried to jump over the 4-foot chain link fence but as they did Travis caught them with bunker buster bullets. These penetrated their thick hides and exploded inside.

For the ones that made it through the gate they were met with shots from Patrick's wand and then a wave of thick lava like fire. The initial charge of these monsters was the most dangerous, if they could make it inside the house or cause Travis and Clyde to fall back, things would get hairy very fast. Of course, the possibility that they pounced on and killed one or both of the JTS faction members was a real threat.

When Clyde first started experimenting with his fire spell, he was disappointed that it wasn't just a jet of flame, but the Wargs with their speed, thick hides and unflinching stupidity/courage could have run through that. This fire variant was different however, Clyde realized in the middle of the fight that it was like Napalm. No wait, not like but he thought it actually was napalm, he could shoot napalm out of his hands holy shit!

Shoot it out of his hands he did, it scorched the faces and backs of the disgusting creatures, and they shrieked in pain. Too damaged even to take out their frustration on the humans four of them turned tail and ran, looking for water to jump in or a bottle of pills to end their misery, Clyde didnt care as long as they weren't eating him and his friends. The three Travis shot made 7 total and there were just a few more left.

It was clear now that the demon was chanting a spell or praying, they couldn't be sure. He was protected by the upgraded skeleton warriors or else Clyde would have sicked his summons on him.

The zombies finally made it into the yard and seeing that the demon still waited on the street Travis pulled his sword and went to work.