Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga

by Iain Rob Wright

Rick rolled his eyes. “It’s better than nothing.”

  Keith looked at his watch. “It’s almost ten PM. If we want to make the most of night cover, we should move. We make it to the motorway if we can, but if not we stick to the countryside.”

  Keith thought he was in charge, as always, but Rick didn’t argue. What his brother was saying was sound. The motorways were potentially troublesome, but if they were free of demons, they would be the fastest route—with farmland to escape to on either side if they encountered danger.

  They gathered in the hallway before the large front doors. For a time, Rick had been a hermit behind those heavy slabs of wood, a failed pop star too embarrassed to be seen in public. Now, he was a blooded warrior about to step out into the deadly wilderness. Each of them held weapons: Keith and Rick iron pokers, Diane a baseball bat, and Maddy wielded both an old field hockey stick and a chef’s knife.

  “I still say we leave Daniel here,” said Keith, glowering back toward the living room.

  Rick shook his head. “No way. He saved me.” The others didn’t know Daniel’s true nature—that he was inhuman—but Rick told them he had been rescued from certain death by the guy. Daniel was coming along, no matter what.

  Keith huffed. “Fine, fine. He’ll slow us down something terrible, but I understand he’s one of us, I suppose.”

  Not exactly, thought Rick.

  “I’ve put the wheelbarrow just outside,” said Maddy, “along with a duvet and pillow. He’ll be a bit cramped, but should be comfortable.”

  Maddy was a paramedic. Rick was glad to have her along because she had a nurse’s compassion. “Thanks, Maddy. Keith, you want to give me a hand?”

  Keith shrugged and followed after his brother. They approached Daniel on the sofa and picked him up between them like a length of old carpet. The Fallen Angel stirred momentarily, opening his eyes and staring at Rick, but then he went back to sleep.

  “Guy’s as light as a feather,” said Keith. “That will make wheeling his arse around a little easier.”

  Rick knew Daniel had possessed an anaemic hospital patient on the brink of death, so the lack of body weight was understandable. He also knew that if Daniel died, he would be whisked straight back to his prison cell in the lowest pits of hell. God had punished his revolting angels harshly, but betraying the Red Lord would bring Daniel even harsher punishments. Even Lucifer bowed to the mysterious power pulling the strings of this war.

  Maddy unlocked the front doors while Keith and Rick carried the Fallen Angel to the awaiting wheelbarrow. He fit inside easily. Rick positioned the pillow behind his head.

  It was time to go.

  Rick took one last moment to appreciate the home he had spent the last six years living in—the symbol of the success he had once achieved. Its high, gabled roof had twin chimneys like ears on the head of a looming monster, yet it had only ever felt safe to Rick. The iron gates surrounding the property had saved their lives.

  Movement. A flicker of a shadow beyond the driveway floodlights.

  Rick squinted. What the hell?

  “Whoa, whoa,” Maddy cried.

  Rick spun to see Daniel’s wheelbarrow tipping over. He acted quickly, threw out his hands to keep it steady. Soon as he had, his eyes went back to the end of the driveway. Had someone been there? Rick was certain he had seen a person.

  But the stranger was now gone.

  “You okay?” asked Keith, seeing his confused expression.

  “Yeah,” said Rick. “I thought I saw someone.”

  Keith looked concerned, scanned the gates nervously. “Who?”

  “An old man… An old man sweeping.”

  “You saw an old man?”

  Rick felt stupid. “I thought I did. He had a broom, I think. I must... I must be seeing things.”

  Keith grabbed his shoulder and looked at him. “You still okay to do this?”

  Rick wasn’t sure. “Maybe I have a concussion or something. We can’t stay here any longer, though. We need to find help.”

  Keith gave his shoulder a hearty pat. “Then let’s go.”

  They moved down the driveway, trundling Daniel along in the wheelbarrow. Rick couldn’t help but look around anxiously. Couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching them. Watching them and sweeping the ground.

  As they passed out of the gates, Rick noticed a pile of dirt gathered on one side of the road along with a trail—like a broom had swept across it.

  They stopped at a petrol station one hour after leaving the house. So far the going had been good. Although walking through the rural village streets resembled walking through the ruins of a sacked settlement, there had been no sign of demons—live ones at least. Their bodies lay all over the place. The problem was that for every demon corpse, there were five human ones. The sheer horror of it was what led Rick and his group to take a breather inside the petrol station.

  Tears filled Maddy’s eyes, but she would not allow herself to sob. “I’m not sure I can cope with any more. Did you see… did you see that little girl?”

  Everyone nodded. It had been impossible to miss the little blonde girl with bloody pigtails and two torn-off arms. Her body lay propped against a road sign like some kind of warning. The harsh glow of the nearby lamppost made her sallow cheeks almost translucent. A blonde woman lay dead beside the girl—perhaps her mother. Before moving on, Maddy lay the girl’s stiffened body in the grass. Even for a paramedic, it had proven too grizzly. She had barely said a word since.

  Keith put down his iron poker and went to the petrol station’s buzzing refrigerator. He snatched a bottle of water and uncapped it. After taking a swig, he looked around. “Looks like people left everything and ran for their lives.”

  “What else could they do?” said Diane, holding herself and stepping carefully. “People must have been so afraid. So many dead. No one was ready for any of this. I was training to be a childcare worker. I’m supposed to be spend my days in a nursery surrounded by laughing children, not walking through dead bodies.”

  Maddy gave the girl a hug. “We’re alive, and so are other people, I’m sure. We will find them, I promise.”

  Diane wiped at the tip of her nose. “Where have all the demons gone now? I mean the ones that were here in the village. They couldn’t all have been with the ones that attacked us. You think any are still here?”

  “The demons are all assembling into armies,” said Keith. “The ones that attacked us must have come from the gate in Crapstone, but they only swept through here on their way to someplace else. We head south. We’ll be fine.”

  Diane seemed unsure, but she nodded. Rick approximated the girl to a nervous bird, yet she had survived a lot and still placed one foot in front of the other. Diane was stronger than she realised.

  “Let’s grab a few supplies,” said Keith, moving over to the confectionary aisle and gathering chocolate bars. With his large gut, Keith would last longest if they were forced to starve.

  Fortunately, that didn’t seem like it would be the case. The petrol station was fully stocked, and it was reasonable to assume other places were too. If they died, it would be quick and painful and at the hands of a demon. Rick picked up a sausage roll and tore open the packet. When he bit into it, the lights winked out.

  Diane moaned.

  “There goes the power,” said Keith. “Bound to happen sooner or later.”

  Rick swallowed the mouthful of pastry and wiped his mouth with the back of his jacket’s leather sleeve. “Does that mean the power stations are offline? Have things got even worse?”

  Keith shrugged, like he knew it all and was tired of explaining. “More likely the grid has been compromised. Not like they can send an engineer to go fix a fallen power line at the moment. Better to switch it all off and divert power where it’s needed. This is the government making smart decisions. Somewhere, someone is still in charge.”

  “I hope so,” said Rick, but wasn’t sure he believed it. More likely, the power stations were unstaf
fed, their engineers deserted or dead. Was the enemy smart enough to attack strategic targets? Had they knocked out the power on purpose?

  The demon with the black hair had certainly been in possession of his wits. He had spoken to Rick, told him of the Red Lord’s plans. All of humanity gone.

  Maddy picked up a couple of bottles of sports drink and took them over to Daniel, still unconscious in the wheelbarrow. “Hey, Daniel, can you wake up and take a sip of this?”

  Daniel murmured.

  “Daniel,” she said, shaking him gently. “We need to keep you hydrated. Can you just take a little bit of this, please?”

  Daniel’s left eye peeled open, and his lips parted. Maddy placed the sports drink against his dry mouth and slowly tipped it in. After a few moments, he spluttered and began gulping thirstily.

  “That’s it,” said Maddy. “Drink as much as you can. It will give you a little boost.”

  Daniel took another glug, but then started choking.

  “Easy,” said Maddy, patting his back. It didn’t help. Daniel continued choking so violently that he almost tumbled out of the wheelbarrow. Rick rushed over and grabbed his arm to keep him from thrashing.

  “Hey, it’s okay. Calm down.”

  Daniel opened both eyes and gasped for air.

  “What was in that bottle?” asked Keith. “Poison?”

  “No, it was a vitamin drink.” She held it up in front of her.

  Rick read the label and groaned. With added iron. “It is poison. At least it is to him.”

  Keith stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  Rick found himself in a hole and decided the only way out was to tell the truth. “Daniel is one of them. He came through the gates.”

  Keith backed away from the wheelbarrow and raised his iron poker. “You mean he’s a demon?”

  “No, he’s an angel. One of the Fallen. He was trapped in Hell and escaped with everything else, but he isn’t one of the bad guys. He saved my life. He’s been trying to help us.”

  “Like hell he has. He’s a goddamn spy!”

  Rick snarled. “Then how come we’re still alive?”

  “Beats me, but we need to deal with him right now.”

  All the while, Daniel continued to choke.

  Maddy pointed at Diane. “Get me some water. Now!”

  “What are you doing?” Keith spun to face her.

  “Trying to stop him choking.”

  “Let the bastard choke.”

  Maddy pointed a finger in his face. “No! I trust Rick, and I haven’t seen Daniel do anything to harm us. I would at least like to help him survive long enough for him to answer my questions.”

  Diane hurried back with the water. It was peach flavoured.

  Maddy shoved the bottleneck into Daniel’s mouth and upended it. Daniel gagged on the new liquid, but some of it went down okay. After a few moments, he drank voluntarily. The choking and hitching subsided.

  Daniel was lucid.

  Rick peered at him, eyes wide. “Daniel, you’re awake?”

  “S-so I am. What’s that… that terrible taste in my mouth?”

  “That might be the iron we just gave you.”

  “T-the what?”

  Rick shrugged. “Sorry. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

  Daniel blinked, his eyes droopy and like he could fall back to sleep any moment. Despite that, he glanced around. “Where?”

  “We’re at a petrol station. We decided to make a break for the south coast. There might be help there.”

  “Rick says you’re a demon,” said Keith, looming over Daniel.

  Daniel didn’t seem ashamed of the fact—maybe he was too out of it—and nodded slightly. “One word for me, I… suppose.”

  “You’re one of them.”

  Daniel shook his head adamantly despite his weakness. “No.”

  Keith nodded, just as adamant. “Yes.”

  “I’m not one of them.”

  “Then help us,” said Maddy.

  “Too… weak.”

  “You see?” Keith pointed a finger. “He’s working to bring us down.”

  Rick knocked his brother’s pointed finger downwards. “Yeah, because Hell would really send a Fallen Angel to bring down an accountant and a fading pop star. I’m telling you, he’s on our side. He…”

  “He what?” Keith had grown red in the face, the collar of his dirty shirt seeming to grow tighter around his fleshy neck. “What were you going to say, Rick?”

  “He… He brought me back to life. I was dead—my skull crushed—but he fixed me. Brought me back from the dead.”

  Keith burst out laughing. “You’ve lost it. You’ve bloody well lost it.”

  “No, I haven’t. I’m telling you!”

  Keith looked at Rick, and the smile slipped away. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you haven’t lost it. Maybe Daniel has got to you. Maybe you’re determined to screw us all over.”

  “Keith!” Maddy put her hand on her hips. “He’s your brother!”

  “Is he? Came back from the dead, apparently. Isn’t that what demons do? Wouldn’t that make him a zombie? Doesn’t sound like my brother to me.” He prodded Rick in the chest.

  “Back off,” Rick snarled.

  Keith prodded him again. “I want to know what the hell is going on here. I won’t die. Marcy and Maxwell are still out there somewhere, and I intend on getting to them.”

  Rick shoved his brother hard in the shoulders, rocking him back. “You mean the wife and son you cheated on? Screw you, Keith. You’re not the boss of anything, and you don’t decide what happens. Daniel is with us, and I am fine.”

  “Rick?” Maddy was staring at him. Keith backed away cautiously, his poker held up in front of him.

  “Oh God,” Diane put a hand to her mouth.

  Rick shook his head. “What? What is it?”

  “Just… look in the mirror,” said Maddy.

  Look in the mirror? What was she talking about? There was one of those curved mirrors at the end of the aisle which allowed the sales assistant to glance around the corner. Rick went over to it. It was dark, so when he looked up, he couldn’t see himself clearly. He only saw his own eyes.

  His eyes were glowing red.

  Rick staggered backwards in shock, colliding with a shelfful of cleaning supplies behind him. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Maddy came up behind and grabbed him. “Just sit down. On the floor, now.”

  He allowed himself to be lowered and pulled his knees up while he sat there in stunned silence. Maddy rubbed at his back.

  “What’s wrong with me?” he asked again, realising he was shivering.

  “Shh, take deep breaths. Everything is okay.”

  Rick realised his heart was thudding like a tambourine, but slowly, gradually, he calmed down. “Am I… Am I normal again?”

  Maddy looked into his eyes. She nodded. “Yes.”

  “I told you; he came back wrong,” said Keith.

  Maddy glared at him. “Enough, Keith. Nothing’s changed. We’re all heading south to find safety.”

  “You’re insane. He’s one of them now.”

  “Can we stop fighting?” said Diane. “Let’s get what we need and go. I don’t like being stuck inside here. It’s too cramped. When I was twelve, I got locked in a cleaning cupboard at school for a whole hour. Tight spaces have freaked me out ever since.”

  Keith ran a hand through his slicked-back hair and exhaled. “Fine, let’s get what we can in our packs and get back on the road. Let’s just forget about the facts Daniel is a demon and my brother is possessed. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure. Maybe that old man sweeping Rick saw was Jesus, come to whisk us all to safety. Everything is sodding hunky dory.”

  “What did you just say?” Daniel struggled to lift himself up out of the wheelbarrow. “What was that you said?”

  Keith didn’t even bother to look at him. “I’m not talking to you, demon. You’re a spy.”

  “What did you say about a m
an sweeping?” The force in Daniel’s voice shocked them.

  Frowning, Keith broke his own assertion and turned to Daniel. “It was a joke. Rick was seeing things. Thought he saw an old man sweeping. Not surprised, seeing as you supposedly knitted his brain back together.”

  Daniel groaned. “The Caretaker. We need to leave here. Right now!”

  “Wait, you mean he’s real?” said Rick. “I really saw him?”

  Daniel gritted his teeth as he struggled to climb out of the wheelbarrow. He gained an inch before falling back down. “The Caretaker is very real. If you saw him, we are all in very serious danger.”

  “Who is he?” Diane’s hands bunched up against her mouth.

  “Hell is a place full of monsters,” said Daniel, “but even Hell has its bogeymen. They say the Caretaker was the slave who used to clean up the blood at the Roman Colosseum after Christians were put to death there. The Romans saw the blood as tainted and sent only the lowliest servants to deal with it. For decades, the slave watched while devout men were put to death, fed to lions, hanged, or stabbed. Over time, he became numb to their suffering—to all suffering. He became amoral. Near the end of the slave’s life, the gladiatorial combats stopped, and killing in the Colosseum ceased. The slave found himself without purpose. After a lifetime of cleaning up the blood of Martyrs, he had developed a need for its scent, for the tackiness against his fingers. For its taste.”

  Diane groaned. “Oh God.”

  Daniel continued, his strength returned as he told the story. Maybe it was fear giving him a boost. “Eventually, the slave could rest no longer. He needed to spill blood himself, to continue his life’s work. He started with his master, causing a minor slave revolt. First, he bathed in the blood, before cleansing it from his skin and from the floor. He left his former master on the dirt outside his home, mimicking the thousands of Christians who had perished on the sands of the arena. For another ten years, the slave continued his quest for blood, drinking from his victim’s necks as they bled out. It was the cleanest way to remove the liquid. No blood on the ground. It was his job to keep the ground clean. It had always been his job.”

  “He sounds like a vampire,” said Maddy.

  Daniel nodded. “Perhaps where the myth was born. Rome was deathly afraid of the old man who stalked its shadows, cleansing citizens of their blood. Roman Emperor Honorius promised a captured Gaul his freedom if the man hunted down the monster and slew it. The Gaul, once a druid of his clan, tracked the murderous slave down by butchering a dozen sows and draining their blood into a vat at the edge of the Rubicon River. The sickly scent drew the old man out of Rome, as desired, the very first night. The moon was full, and now, truly a monster, the murderous slave’s teeth were stained permanently red from the blood. The Gaulish druid ambushed the slave and drowned him in the great vat of blood, bringing a poetic end to the creature who had stalked the streets of Rome. The emperor decreed that the vat be sealed and buried with the old man’s corpse inside, forever to be soiled by the clotted blood of pigs.”