Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga

by Iain Rob Wright

Rick looked around the open-plan living room and frowned again. “It’s all open down here. There’s a door on the office and the rooms upstairs, but… Well, I suppose we might be able to work something out.”

  “What about that big garage you have out there?” asked Keith.

  Rick flinched. “No, there’s nothing in there.”

  “Probably worth checking out though,” said Steven.

  “No.”

  Maddy stared at him. “Come on, Rick. We need to find whatever we can. Where’s the harm?”

  Rick tried to find argument, but couldn’t. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll open it.” He stood up and looked at them. “Well, come on then.”

  They all got up and headed outside and around to the side of the house. The double garage sat beside the property but had rarely been used to park a car. Its main use was as a junk storage shed, and when Rick opened it, he felt his cheeks glow. He knew Keith would be the first to comment, and he wasn’t disappointed.

  “Are these all your albums, Rick? Oh dear.”

  Rick looked down at the boxes upon boxes of unsold music albums and cringed. “I’ve told you before that my record label went bust while I was still in contract with them. This is all the stock from their warehouse. They were just going to chuck it.”

  Keith sniggered. “And you thought it would be better keeping it in your garage?”

  “I didn’t know I’d never get another record deal. I assumed I’d sign a new contract and sell this stuff on as signed copies or something.”

  Maddy studied his face. “Wait… That’s how I know you. You’re that Rick Bastion guy.”

  Keith chuckled. “His real surname is Monroe.”

  Rick shot him a glare. “No, it’s not. I changed it.”

  “Shouldn’t have bothered.”

  “I think it’s cool,” said Diane. “You were really a pop star, Rick?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, for about five minutes.”

  “I have to admit,” said Maddy, picking up one of the albums and studying it. “I liked that song.”

  Steve laughed. “Can’t say that I did, but it’s still impressive. Well done.”

  Keith bristled and looked at Daniel. “Were you a fan of Cross to Bear, Daniel?”

  “Never heard it. Sorry.”

  “Oh come on,” said Maddy. “You must have heard it. My love for you is just a cross to beeear!”

  Daniel looked nonplussed.

  Rick patted him on the back. “Always glad to meet a non-fan—truly. Anyway, I told you there was nothing in here. I wasn’t lying. Unless you think we can pay the demons off with signed copies of my albums.”

  “I think not,” said Keith.

  Maddy ran her fingers over the surface of the album and kept glancing between it and Rick. The sight of his pink hair and leather jacket made him cringe. “Could you please put that down,” he begged her.

  She smiled and tossed it back into the box. “Sorry.”

  Steven slipped inside the garage and looked around. “You have a few tools in here, Rick. That nail gun could be handy. The stepladder too.”

  “Take whatever you want. We should start getting the doors off to use as barricades. I think there’s a tool kit in here somewhere.”

  “Where are your keys, Rick?” asked Keith. “I’ll park our cars up against the gate; stop anything barging through.”

  Rick reached into his pocket and handed them over. “Good idea. The iron fence goes all the way around, so it should hold, but the gate is rickety and only held with a padlock.”

  “Can I borrow your phone, too?”

  “Yeah, of course. You want to call Marcy?”

  “I’m thinking she isn’t answering because it’s my number coming up—or perhaps I’m hoping that’s the reason. Anyway, it’s worth a try.”

  Rick offered his phone. “Take it. Keep trying her.”

  Steven started yanking stuff out from the back of the garage and piling it out front. In short order, he had added a hammer, a toolkit, and a garden shovel to the nail gun and ladder. It wasn’t much, but it wasn’t nothing either. Keith got the cars moved, parked them side by side in front of the gate. Next on the list was getting the bedroom doors off and nailing them against the ground-floor windows. For that job, they all worked together.

  “So, Rick,” Daniel said to him as they propped a door in front of the office window. “What’s the deal with your brother? He’s not really the supportive type, is he?”

  “You could put it like that.”

  “Why does he give you so much grief?”

  “Don’t ask me. I never got on with my dad, but Keith was joined at the hip to him. I think he took over where my old man left off, criticising me all the time. Keith hated when I got a recording contract. Dad had groomed him to be this great businessman, but I went and leapfrogged him by making a couple mil overnight. I can’t be certain, but I think he even went so far as setting up a fake account and leaving my albums bad reviews online.”

  “Yikes, that’s a little…” he looked at the door they were holding, “unhinged.”

  Rick shrugged. “Can’t pick your family, I guess.”

  “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”

  Rick held a nail in place and prepared to strike it with the hammer. “What’s that?”

  “Proverbs 17:17. Priest school, remember? I can’t believe I still remember that stuff.”

  “You really visited the Vatican? What’s it like?”

  He shrugged. “A bit religious for my liking. Nice buildings though.”

  They shared a laugh, and before long, they had the door nailed across the window and were off to the next task. Steve was busy in the living room while Maddy and Diane were in the kitchen making phone calls and trying to get help. They got through a couple of times, but only ever received bad news. The police were tied up, and the Army were concentrated around major cities. Nobody would come rescue a few people in a mansion on the edge of nowheresville. The call operators had started to be quite blunt about that. So Maddy and Diane had switched tactics and were now focused on trying to find out what was happening in the country. Rick had loaned them his laptop to aid their research. Maddy had already managed to contact an uncle in Leeds who claimed everything was okay, and Diane had spoken with her mother hiding out at her home in Exeter. People still lived, so perhaps things weren’t so bad.

  Keith was in the hallway making calls of his own. It was obvious from his expression that Marcy still wasn’t answering. Rick felt for him. Not knowing if his wife and son were okay must have been torture. Once again, it made Rick wonder why his brother was there.

  A beeping sound brought everyone into the entrance hallway. Rick knew it was the security system, and he went to the control panel on the wall. The video feed had switched on, activated by the proximity sensors on the gate. The security floodlight bathed the driveway in a spooky yellow-green glow.

  It made the dead men look like ghosts.

  Rick counted the demons outside the gate and covered his mouth in horror. “There must be two dozen of them out there. Enough to bring down the gate.”

  “Okay, everybody,” said Keith, “get whatever you can to defend yourselves. We’re going to keep our heads down and hope they don’t find out we’re in here.”

  Daniel elbowed Rick in the ribs and whispered, “Ain’t this your gaff, mate?”

  Rick shrugged. Nothing Keith said was wrong, but he did have one thing to add: “If they do get in here, there’s no way out except the gate, but Steven has put the step ladder in the conservatory. If we have to make a run for it, we can set it up against the back fence and climb over. We might be able to escape without them seeing us.”

  “We should just run,” said Diane.

  Maddy was the first to shake her head. “And go where? No, if we can stay hidden, then we’d be stupid to leave. It’s the middle of the night. They might not even have seen us.”

  Keith clapped his hands to get everyone’s at
tention back on him. “We all know about the stepladder. If we need to make a run for it, then it’s there, but things haven’t come to that yet. The lower floor is barricaded, and we can defend ourselves—we proved that back at the pub. We’re okay for now.”

  “I don’t think there’s any doubt about them knowing we’re in here,” said Rick. He prodded the LCD screen with his finger and showed them all what he was seeing. The demons outside, a mixture of burned humans and hunched-over creatures, glared through the bars at the house. They were so unwavering in their focus, so intent on their staring, that there was no question that they knew somebody was inside.

  “They’re just standing there,” said Maddy. “It’s like they don’t want to touch the gate.”

  Rick nodded. She was right. The demons were half a foot away from the bars, but would approach no further. It was as if there was an invisible force field keeping them at bay.

  Steven leant forward, closer to the screen. “They could climb over it if they tried, but they’re not trying. Why?”

  “It’s the iron bars,” said Daniel.

  Everybody looked at him.

  “What?” Rick asked.

  “The seals I told you about in the book. They were forged from iron. God created a substance toxic to anything not of earth and used it to make the seals. He also placed iron in the blood of man to help prevent evil from inhabiting us.”

  “You mean, like possession?” asked Diane.

  “Yeah, possession. Anyway, non-earthly creatures are allergic to iron. They can’t cross a barrier made from it.”

  “The fire pokers are iron too,” said Keith, “but it didn’t kill them outright.”

  “No,” admitted Rick. “But it hurt them. Perhaps iron is only truly effective as a barrier. It keeps evil spirits out of our bodies, and it’s been keeping the demons trapped in Hell via the seal stones. Maybe it’s-”

  Maddy finished for him. “Keeping the bastards out of your house via the old fashioned fence.”

  Keith folded his arms. “Well, well, well, it looks like we may have had the fortune to wander into the one safe place in town. I knew there was a reason you wasted so much money on this old house, Rick.”

  “I obviously knew that somewhere down the line I’d need to seek refuge from an army of demons. Thought I’d be prepared.”

  Everyone laughed, and Keith bristled again. He was straight-faced as he spoke. “We know nothing for sure, so let’s just stick to the plan. Everybody keep their heads down, and be ready. Even if we’re safe, we can’t stay here forever, unless my brother has a garage full of supplies hidden amongst all of his unsold albums.”

  Rick wanted to reply with something devastating, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he kept an eye on the security monitor and watched the demons outside. Part of him wished he was stuck inside with one of them instead of his older brother.

  ~Tony Cross~

  Eastern Plateau, Syria

  Without vehicles for shade, the men were exhausted within an hour, and they slowed down just a few miles into Syria. Harris had got so hot that he had pulled out his combat knife and cut the sleeves off his shirt. But when night had fallen, they had faced a new set of problems: In the early hours, the desert froze, and the men had needed to clutch themselves to keep warm, hours after sweating profusely. They kept on walking long into the night, trying to put as much distance between them and the gate as they could. Now that it was almost dawn, they were looking forward to the brief window of temperate weather that morning would bring.

  “I did not think I would live to see the sun rise,” said Aymun, the leader of the ISN trio that now marched side by side with seven British soldiers.

  Ellis had been unfailingly polite to the Syrian rebels since rescuing them, and he was no different now. “I thought quite the same for a moment there, Aymun. That was quite a hairy situation we escaped.”

  Aymun looked confused. He plucked at his dirty black fringe. “Hairy?”

  Tony sighed. “He means we were in the shit.”

  Aymun nodded. “I understand shit. Situation very bad. Allah has sent his servants to punish us.”

  “Don’t start on that,” said Tony. “I don’t believe your Allah sent a bunch of monsters to kill us in the desert. I’m sure he has more efficient means.”

  “Allah prefers to test, not punish. If we die, it is because we stop fighting.”

  Tony grunted. “Do you believe that about your own men? You lost more than a dozen back at the border.”

  A glimmer of sadness flowed through Aymun’s face, but he quickly went back to being expressionless. “They are in the next life, rewarded for their bravery.”

  “Some reward,” said Tony.

  Silence followed them for the next hour while the sun rose inch by inch above the horizon. They found a dirt road, and the walking got a little easier, and when they came upon a stream, they decided to set up camp. Ellis quickly upset the men by insisting they share their rations with the three ISN soldiers. Morale had been low ever since.

  Tony sat on his own, fiddling with the squad’s long-range radio. Ellis had tried it as soon as they’d made it into Syria, but had not been able to get a successful link up. Communication in the desert was never great, but the majority of their unit was deployed less than a hundred miles away and should have been reachable. Yet, when Tony tried to hail them again now, he got zero response. Had another gate opened near base camp? Was the rest of the platoon dead?

  Tony wanted, more than anything, to encounter more people, even ISN. He feared what had come through that gate, and he feared what it meant for the world. If nothing else, it answered the question about whether humanity was alone. Either aliens or demons had come through that gate, and it looked like they were here to kill.

  Ellis unfolded his map and noted down the coordinates on the GPS readout from his radio. Tony sat next to him to see what the score was.

  “We’re in the middle of the desert,” Ellis told him, never failing to astound with his talent of stating the obvious. “It’s not safe for us to stay in Syria. We could head back east, but that would take us closer to that dastardly gate. Or we head south for Israel?”

  Tony shook his head. “We’d never make it through Jordan in one piece.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  “Turkey.”

  “But that’s north, Tony, through the desert and river towns. We could meet resistance. The ISN operate in the northern regions”

  “The ISN are everywhere, but we’ll be less likely to be attacked that way than if we head south or west. The north is barren enough that we can avoid the towns. We should head for the U.S. airbase in Incirlik. If we can make it to the Turkish border, we should be able to get a ride. We should be able to make it within a week on foot, sooner if we manage to find a couple vehicles.”

  Ellis rubbed at his jaw. “A week’s march across the desert, how are we supposed to manage that?”

  Tony sighed. “Once upon a time, armies used to march thousands of miles. If we cut our rations, take as much water from this stream as we can, we’ll make it. It won’t be a pleasant trip, but any other direction and we risk getting into another firefight. I don’t know about you, but I could do without losing another bunch of lads.”

  Ellis looked at the map for several seconds, eyebrows knitted in concentration. He came up with no alternative, so nodded his head and agreed to Tony’s plan. “I will go and let the men know what they’re in for.”

  Tony looked at his Commanding Officer and tried to convey his confidence one last time, hoping it would pass through him and onto the men. “This is how we all get to live, Lieutenant. I’ll take hard and safe over easy and dangerous any day. We stick together and we’ll be fine.”

  Ellis nodded toward Aymun who was sitting on a rock with his two men. “What about them?”

  “Leave them to me.”

  Ellis seemed satisfied. “I trust you to take care of it, Staff Sergeant. Carry on.”

  While El
lis addressed the men, Tony approached the ISN. Aymun nodded to him and said, “Hello, my friend.”

  “We’re not friends, we’re enemies. That’s why you need to go your way while we go ours.”

  “You will let us go?”

  “Yes, you can even keep your weapons, but you don’t head into Iraq and you don’t follow us.”

  “Where will you go? Syria dangerous for British soldier.”

  “Not your concern.”

  “Only safe place is desert, but you never make in the heat. Summer bad. No time for walking.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Tony snapped.

  “I help you.”

  “Don’t want your help.”

  “You need my help.”

  Tony studied Aymun and tried to figure him out. He seemed genuine in his offer to help, but here also was a man who believed that infidels should be beheaded and homosexuals hanged. “Why do you want to help, Aymun? We oppose everything you stand for.”

  “I be very surprised if you know what I stand for. I stand for duty. Your men save my men, so now we help save you. You want out of country. Turkey, yes? I take you across desert, across river. Make sure your men do not burn.”

  Tony folded his arms, strangely finding himself willing to listen. “How would you help us, Aymun?”

  “I lead you to hidden ISN stockpile. Food, water, monies, yes? You can take. Payment for saving my life.”

  “How do I know you won’t turn on my men? You could lead us into a trap. We’re enemies.”

  “I think we are enemies no longer. We have new enemy to fight.”

  “The demons?”

  Aymun nodded. “Allah’s test. Perhaps he wish to bring men together by giving them mutual adversary.”

  Against his better judgement, Tony asked, “You really want to help my men?”

  “I swear it in Allah’s name. You are not my enemy. Syrian puppet government my enemy, greedy white men my enemy, demons that come through gate my enemy. You are friend.”

  “Then we should shake hands.”

  Aymun waved a hand. “Pah, white man’s gesture. For Moslem, man’s word alone good enough.”