by Guy N Smith
But no, he had to bring this final encounter with the Devil's henchman and his sidekick to a conclusion. He might not have another opportunity.
He baulked at the prospect of heading towards the fire. Yet…
Suddenly his momentary indecision was interrupted by two shots, the reports close together. They were maybe a hundred yards away, deep in the suffocating darkness.
Certainly they came from those he pursued. His intensive knowledge of firearms told him that the reports came from a .45 handgun. Of course the shots would have been aimed at that devilish hairy monster. It had tracked and found the other two. Was it dead or was it now goring their corpses?
There was only one way to find out and that was to risk the perils of this virtual hell on earth.
Now Zinovsky could see the raging flames, fifty feet high as they roared down the western boundary of the wood, heading towards the road below. Doubtless his own parked car would be reduced to a molten mass but right now that was a minor consideration. Vehicles were easily obtained, their owners slaughtered.
Their only route to safety was to turn about and head eastward. Up there was open moorland, an easy escape route.
He paused momentarily and that was when he felt a tap on the shoulder. His companion, that silent specialist in gruesome torture and executions, sweating inside his heavy clothing, pointed behind them.
‘What…’ Zinovsky grunted, saw where the other indicated a clearing some distance behind where a brief shaft of moonlight revealed a huge hairy creature.
The wild boar had tracked and located them!
‘It is our ally,’ his tone lacked confidence. ‘Sent by the Master to hunt down Mayo and the girl for us.’
Right now, though, the boar's interest was only in the pair of humans. There was no mistaking its threatening stance, head lowered and poised to charge.
‘Something is wrong,’ Zinovsky drew his heavy handgun, flicked the safety catch on to 'fire'.
The two shots were in rapid succession, might well have been a single detonation. The boar shuddered in its charge, half reared up and then collapsed in a heap, its legs kicking feebly until finally it lay still on its back. The shots had found their mark.
’It should have been tracking Mayo, not us. Master why are you hunting your loyal servants?’ Zinovsky was both puzzled and disturbed.
A terrible fear gripped Zinovsky, and that was when he saw that the inferno had circled the top of the wood and was blazing on the moorland above them. His planned route of retreat was gone!
Suddenly, unbelievably, they were trapped within advancing, all blazing undergrowth and trees. Master, spare us, we have served you well even if we have not located the fugitives who prevented that massacre at the cathedral in the holy city!
Zinovsky's silent plea went unanswered. Fail the Dark One and there was a terrible price to pay.
‘Flee for your life!’ An order to the man in black.
The other was bent double, coughing and spewing inside the headgear which covered his features. He made to follow his fleeing master, pitched headlong, clawed frantically for a hold on broken branches but they snapped. His booted feet scrabbled. He half rose, fell back.
‘Help me!’ A throaty plea but Zinovsky was only concerned for his own safety. He realised that the one he served had ignored his pleading. He had shot Satan's monster, the penalty was death, burned by this terrible inferno which had surely been sent from the bowels of hell.
Mayo saw and shuddered in spite of the increasing heat. One final glimpse of his deadly foe, arms raised in a final plea to the one he served. His screams were drowned in the fiery crackling and then he fell and was lost to sight, gone forever in a bizarre unholy cremation.
John Mayo's only thought now was for his own safety. He turned about, found a track which appeared to be heading downhill, followed it. Twice he had to deviate where falling branches barred his progress. The smoke was less thick here, his vision improved.
Then, much to his relief, he emerged above the cottage. Beyond the neighbouring farm the firefighters had checked the advancing wall of flames. It headed down towards the road and would probably burn itself out when it reached the river.
He grimaced as he passed the bloody remains of the man who had once been Richardson. Foxes and corvids would probably clear it up. More importantly Zinovsky was dead, his UK followers would now be without a leader as would their European counterparts.
That only left Hamza bin Laden in hiding somewhere abroad with a huge reward offered for his capture. Some of the Al-Qaeda jihadists might be tempted. Only time would tell.
Back in the cottage Mayo made a couple of phone calls. The first was to the Jones family to reassure them that their home was safe. The second was to Charlie Wells advising him of Zinovsky's demise and suggesting that an armed unit raid that home in Lichfield.
That done, Mayo sank back into an armchair. Right now he would take a well-earned rest.
Another mission had been completed. He promised himself that this one was his last, a vow he had made on more than one occasion in the past.
Tomorrow he would head north, re-join Gwenda and pick up the traces of their leisurely retirement. He attempted to convince himself that there would be no more missions. This one would be his very last.
He pursed his lips and a sense of doubt crept into his vow. He had made such promises to himself in the past and they had proved to be futile.
He let out a deep sigh as he packed his few belongings into a holdall. Right now he preferred not to even think about what the future might hold. Whatever would be, would be.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Guy N. Smith has been a best-selling author for over 40 years. He has written over 70 horror novels since 1975 as well as numerous short stories in the genre.
Find out more at www.guynsmith.com
Horror lurked in the maze of cliff caves where a new generation of giant crabs were breeding.
In 1975 an army of gigantic crabs, the result of an underwater nuclear experiment, attacked the Welsh coastline.
The battle was bloody, many lives were lost until the crustacean invaders were defeated.
Over the ensuing years they turned up in the oceans of the World with further terrible slaughter of humans. Finally, though, it was believed that these monsters from the deep had been eradicated. Only memories of their invasions of land remained with the older inhabitants, tales of their depredations on mankind were whispered but often ridiculed by the modern generations.
Until a few of the survivors returned to the Welsh coast and began breeding secretly in a maze of caverns beneath the cliffs, preparing for a further attack on mankind.
“The sheer effort and dedication that’s gone into creating this unbelievably comprehensive bibliography is breath-taking.” – DLS Reviews
The complete(ish) guide to collecting the works of Guy N. Smith.
A journey into collecting the works of prolific author Guy Newman Smith. The book covers all genres of the Great Scribbler's writing and contains over 950 pictures and useful details to assist any would-be collector.
The author has endeavoured to list and visually represent, through over 950 colour pictures, the vast catalogue of output from Guy N. Smith's 65+ years in print; from the early stories he had published in the Tettenhall Observer and Advertiser paper as a teenager through to the present day. A career that crosses fiction and non-fiction and has covered almost all possible genres along the way, from Self-Sufficiency to Westerns, via Countryside and Glamour magazines of the 70s, all in addition to the numerous horror and thriller titles he is better known for.
Content includes Fiction (all imprints/editions inc. non UK) and Non-Fiction Categories: Horror, Thriller, Countryside and Children's Novels, Omnibus Collections, Chapbooks, Graphic Novels, Anthologies, Fanzines, Booklets, Magazines (70s adult Glamour, Country Sport, Game-keeping, Horror etc.), Periodicals and Newspapers.
The book also contains an original Guy N. Smith short story ‘The B
east in the Cage’ along with humorous insight into the levels of collecting Guy N. Smith's works in ‘The Completist- A Cautionary Tale’ by author Shane P.D Agnew.
The Sinister Horror Company is an independent UK publisher of genre fiction. Their mission a simple one – to write, publish and launch innovative and exciting genre fiction.
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