“Go with a demon? I don’t think so.”

“You really are pretty stupid sometimes, you know that? I think you must be more man than demon.” With that, she stormed off. Sam sat where he was, feeling bewildered. “Did I say something wrong?”

“One year before the Rapture "...that proves how marvellous God's love is, even for the most miserable human beings, being that demons can never take a human figure in a perfect form, and so the most stupid people are able to discover them." Nicholas Remy, Daemonolatreiae libri tres, 1595.”

“Part of you isn’t demon,” she said. “You’re all human – you just have those horns for decoration.”

“I should have resisted somehow. I should’ve done something, anything. Instead, I just stood there and let them ... touch me.” Sam’s face crumpled with disgust at the thought. “No man has the power to resist their charms. You did what any other man would have done.” “But that’s just it, isn’t it?” He sat up angrily. “I’m not just any other man. In fact, I’m no man at all. I’m a demon.” “You are a man, and a good one. Have you even considered that your demon blood would make you just as susceptible to their charms?”

“So let me get this straight,” said Adam eventually, leaning forward on his crate. “Jesus came back and took all his righteous believers with him, right? Now the rest of us are stuck here for the next seven years while demons emerge every night to drag our sorry arses to Hell? Is that the gist of it?”

“You don’t ask for much, do you? It may look like we’ve got a whole lot of supplies here, but I’ve got five hungry boys to feed, plus I give whatever I can to Adam and the Black Ridge lot. You need to give me a real good reason, otherwise the answer is going to be no.” Sam took a deep breath. “I’m going to kill the Antichrist.” Big Tom sat completely still for a moment. Then he smiled. “Yep. That’ll do it.”