Page 81 of Demons Dig Donuts

“No…” Dill nudged him harder. “Grow!”

“Ow, what?” Indy nearly toppled over. “Hey! What is wrong with—”

Dill grabbed Indy’s head between his index finger and thumb like a grape, then turned him around.

It was Reginald.

He was already on his way back over the hill. He was missing an arm, part of him was smoldering and covered in green glowing goo, but he was running hard and fast and coming right at them.

And all of the army was right behind him.

Fuck.

Indy choked out a strangled sound and flicked his nails, going for his left thumb. He snapped it, expecting the usual iron rod he could wield like a baton and smack some heads in. Instead, it was a six-foot iron staff with strange runes carved all along its length.

Holy shit, Mr. Heiss must have given him an upgrade.

Indy gave the staff an experimental twirl and slammed it into the ground.

Fuck yes, he could work with this.

“Hey, Dill. Babe? Love? Darling?” Indy batted his eyes. “Just how big can you grow?”

Dill grinned. “Big. Big grow.”

“Go for it.” Indy took a deep breath and held the staff at the ready, his heart zooming into the back of his throat. They had only seconds before Reginald and the first wave of the army got here. He knew they would likely be overwhelmed in moments even with Dill’s new supersized form. Debbie was busy working on the door, and Indy plus a cool new staff was still not going to be enough to tip the scales in their favor.

There had to be something else—wait!

The matches!

Aodnait!

Indy scrambled to get the matches out of his pocket, his fingers trembling. He pulled a match, trying not to breathe as he held it against the striking strip. The tiny piece of phosphorus, chemical glue, and powdered glass was all that stood between him and what was sure to be painful and total oblivion.

He struck it.

The flame flickered and went out.

Fuck!

He trembled.

No, no, no.

He could do this.

For Gammy.

For himself.

It was for every horrible fuck he’d ever suffered and all the drugs and vile things he’d put into his body just for the strength to keep going one more day. It was for the family who couldn’t understand his pain, the friends who abandoned him after begging him to stop, and every single other person who turned their backs on him because they couldn’t stand to watch him destroy himself.

Oh…

Fuck it.

He pulled another match, held his breath, and struck it.