Guy frowned. “Are you intending on joining me?”
“Of course. I signed on to serve you, not the ship. Besides, I don't think I could take orders from Tosco.”
“But what about the things you said yesterday? You said the men deserved to stay and fight or go back home.”
“Aye, and I still believe that. My choice is to help you find little Alice.”
Guy felt warmth fill his tummy. “It will be dangerous out there.”
“Aye, but anything willing to eat my leathery old hide is welcome to it.”
Guy laughed and patted the old man on the back, but then changed his mind and decided on a hug. “Thank you, Chief. At least I’ll have one person with me I can trust.”
“Let’s get out on that deck and meet the sun. Might be our last chance. Looks like the morning might bring a storm with it.”
The two men strolled out onto the rain-soaked aft deck in time to catch the sun rising beyond the stern. The silent ships filling the harbour cast long shadows across the shimmering water, but Guy’s attention was taken by something even more beautiful. Standing to attention on deck were two-dozen men and women. Most were sailors, but a few were civilians.
“These are the folks with no one left to fight for,” said Skip. “Except for little Alice. Finding out she's still alive after having travelled so far to find her… well, for some of us, it makes it all the more important to see things through to the end. We’re coming with you to save your little girl, Captain.”
At that, the small assembly saluted in agreement with Skip's assertions.
Guy had tears in his eyes as he stepped forward. “I thought Alice was the only family I had left, but I was wrong. Let’s go and find our baby girl.”
The sun rose fully to the sound of cheering.
Rick watched the sun rise from the small all-hour coffee shop that operated in Portsmouth's main barracks. There he sat nursing a hot chocolate. He’d never had much of a sweet tooth, but ever since Daniel… changed him… he'd developed a raging appetite for sugar. He felt like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly. Maybe it was a part of Daniel's personality.
Am I even me anymore?
Rick knew he was dying—and had been dying ever since the moment he came back from death. Daniel hadn't saved his life that day his skull had cracked open, only postponed its end. The angelic power inside of Rick was too much for his human body to contain, and every morning he woke with another small piece of him rotting away. Even his fingers, now grasping the hot chocolate, had grown twisted and gnarled. He could barely feel the scalding heat through the plastic cup. He was cursed. Cursed to die piece by piece.
But that curse was also a gift.
Daniel had given Rick the power to do something important before his time came—a chance to hit back at the demons spilling forth from the gates. The closer he got to death, the more this strange inner strength grew. That last gate he had closed had been like flicking a switch—so easy. One brief moment of focus and he had reduced the demonic portal to ash, and he had done it from a distance. A hundred demons had vanished in the ensuing shock wave. Rick was a weapon, and with one last chance, he could tip the scales in humanity’s favour. If he succeeded, Lord Amon would be rendered vulnerable. The rest would be down to General Wickstaff.
Keith strode into the empty seating area and nodded to Rick. Maddy and Diane followed behind him.
“I’ve got you all a drink,” said Rick, motioning to the hot coffees in plastic cups on the circular table.
Keith rubbed his hands together and sat down. “Just the thing. I hate early mornings. Only thing about my old life I don’t miss.”
Rick laughed. “One of the rare things we have in common.”
“Rare is the word, what with you being a demon now, little brother.”
“He’s not a demon,” Maddy chided as she took a seat beside Keith. She handed one coffee to Diane who took the final chair and then took one for herself. Diane was still the quiet type, but the apocalypse had drained the fear from her like pus from a boil. Although she didn't look like it, she was a warrior—still alive when most were not.
“I've always liked mornings,” she said. “I used to like the sounds of the birds. Anyone else noticed they don't seem to sing as much anymore?”
“I guess,” Maddy admitted. “Maybe the gates affect them.”
“Or maybe they're too busy feasting on carrion,” Keith muttered. “Can't say I much care.”
“Are we still leaving to help the American?” asked Diane, ignoring Keith’s grumpiness and sipping demurely at her coffee.
Rick thought she might have muttered arsehole under her breath. He smiled.
“Yes, I still intend to help Captain Granger,” he said. “I'm not asking any of you to come. It’s suicide, leaving Portsmouth, but I don't have a choice. It’s why Daniel brought me back. Lord Amon has destroyed every human outpost between here and London, and soon he'll make a move here and try to wipe out what's left of us. I have to destroy that gate, or the people here will have no hope of winning.”
“Ha!” Keith barked. “They're all fucked, whatever you do. Even if you weaken Lord Amon, he has the numbers.”
“Cut off the chicken’s head,” said Rick, “The demons are selfish, aimless souls—that's what got them sent to Hell in the first place. The only thing that galvanises them is the angels. If we take out Lord Amon and the other angels, the demons will fall to disarray. I’m certain.”
Maddy nodded at every word. “Then we go out there and close that gate. Just like you said, Rick. We can do this.”
Rick shook his head. His next words were going to hurt. “You’re staying here.”
Maddy flopped back in her chair like a punch had hit her.
“I’m going with you,” said Diane. “You can't leave us here.”
“I’m not talking about you, Diane. Only Maddy.”
Maddy leant forwards again, placing her hands on the table. “What are you talking about, Rick?”
“I’m talking about you staying here where you're needed most. You’re a medic. The people here need all the medics they can get.”
“You’re going to need me out there. What if you need help?”
“If I get injured, I'm done for. You can’t help me out there amongst the demons. There’s no point trying to patch up a wound too big to heal on its own out in the field. You need to stay and help those who can live to fight another day.”
“I’m coming with you Rick.”
Rick shook his head firmly. He’d already made up his mind after much wakeful thinking last night. “You’re staying here. I’ll have Wickstaff restrain you if I have to.”
“Rick!”
“Listen to me!” Rick felt his eyes flash with something inhuman. His voice crackled like scrunched-up tinfoil. Everyone at the table recoiled. Diane spilled her coffee. Rick took a slow breath and calmed himself. Slowly the strange sensation retreated, and he felt like himself again. “You three around this table are the only things left I care about. I need to know at least one of you is back here relying on me to succeed. It will keep me going knowing my success will help at least one of you to survive to live out a future. Those who come with me probably won't get that chance. Maddy, you are most useful to the people at Portsmouth. Wickstaff needs good people by her. And if you come along...” He blinked, keeping back tears. “I won’t be able to do what I need to do.”
Silence hung in the air.
Maddy seemed to understand what he was trying to say because she picked up her coffee and sipped it without further argument. She avoided making eye contact with him.
Keith placed an elbow on the table making it rock slightly. “I’m coming with you, brother. I’m coming!”
Rick had known his brother would come, but feigned surprise. “You're sure? It might be a one-way trip.”
“We survived two weeks out there on our own because of your abilities. Your powers are getting stronger. I trust you to keep my arse out of the fire, brother, but
if not I'd rather just get it over with and die. Without Max and Marcy… I just don’t give a shit. At least out there with your, there’s the slight chance I might find them.”
“I can't promise to keep you safe, Keith.”
“That's okay. I’ve never known you to keep your word anyhow.”
Rick sighed. The world may have ended, but his older brother’s subtle contempt was still very much alive. “What about you, Diane? Stay or go?”
“I’m staying.”
That, Rick had not expected. Her decision saddened him, but he didn't show it. That would not be fair on her. But was this to be his final goodbye to both Maddy and Diane? It raised a sticky lump in his throat.
“I want to come with you, Rick, but if Maddy is staying, then so am I. I won’t leave her alone. You'll have your brother on the road. Maddy will have me.”
Maddy reached out and touched Diane’s hand. “You don’t have to.”
“I know I don't.” She smiled sadly at Rick. “I’m staying here, and when you get back, we'll sit down like this and compare stories. This isn’t a suicide mission, Rick. You're coming back. I’m ordering you to.”
A chuckle escaped Rick’s mouth, but it wasn’t mocking. “Maybe when I come back, you will have usurped General Wickstaff and taken charge of this place. You have a deal—I'll do everything in my power to obey your orders.”
Keith glanced at the expensive, now cracked watch on his beefy forearm. “Day’s about to start. Longer I sit around talking about it, more likely I am to back out, so we should get going.”
Rick stood, felt an odd sensation in his spine but ignored it. “You’re right. The sooner we go, the more light we will have. Wickstaff will be in her office by now—the woman barely sleeps.”
“Probably because she’s got the job of being humanity’s saviour,” said Maddy. “That would keep me awake at night.”
“Ha!” Keith barked. “Thought that was my little brother’s job.”
“More saviours we can get, the better,” said Maddy. “Um, guys, could I speak to Rick alone for a second, please?”
Keith raised an eyebrow, but nodded. He and Diane left the coffee shop and went back out into the frigid morning. Rick stood facing Maddy, wondering if she was going to try to convince him to stay. He hoped not. She might succeed.
“You sure you don’t want me to come along?” she asked.
“Do I want you to come along? Yes. Of course. But…”
“Don’t have to repeat it. You might do the scary eye thing again.”
Rick turned and cupped a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. My emotions seem to manifest a little more forcefully lately.”
Maddy pulled his hand away from his face and made him look at her. “I love my husband,” she said, somewhat unexpectedly. “I think about him every day.”
“I-I know you do.”
“But when you leave, I will be thinking about you too. You’re not my husband, Rick, but I love you. You saved my life, and I saved yours. That means something.”
“It means a lot,” he admitted.
Maddy surprised him again. She kissed him on the mouth and placed a hand against his cheek. He sensed the blood running through her palm, like a faint echo.
“What Diane said goes for me too, Rick,” she said, pulling away. “This is not a suicide mission. If things get too hard, you come back, and we’ll find another way.”
“I have to do whatever’s necessary.”
“I’m not talking about what’s necessary. I’m talking about you staying alive. Come back to me, Rick. You hear me?”
He nodded. “I hear you, Maddy.”
The two of them shared a moment just staring at each other, and then Maddy headed for the door. Rick went after her, legs shaking. From the kiss or from the changes going on inside of him, he wasn't sure.
Outside, the sun had risen high enough to cast a weak, grey light over everything. Rick had expected to see yawning sentries awaiting replacement, but instead, he witnessed a group of two-dozen soldiers bunched together around the parade square. Something was happening.
“What's got their knickers in a twist?” Keith appeared out of Rick’s blind spot with Diane. He was frowning and trying to get a clear look ahead,
Rick felt that strange tingling sensation in his spine again. “Do you know what's going on?”
“We wanted to wait for you first,” said Diane.
“Okay, let’s go find out.”
Rick hurried, and the others kept pace. The closer he got to the soldiers ahead, the odder he felt. His flesh tingled. His teeth ached. The air felt charged like those tense moments before a thunderstorm. To add to the sensation, it had begun to rain. A light drizzle that threatened more.
“I see General Wickstaff,” said Maddy, pointing to the centre of the crowd. Rick saw the woman too. Portsmouth's no-nonsense leader was wearing silk pyjamas and slippers. It wasn’t the first time she'd strode around camp in less than authoritative fashion. Perhaps the days of respecting a uniform were over. The woman led by example, not appearances. Even so, an aide was hurrying towards her with a pair of overalls to put on.
The general was worried. Rick could read it in the way she folded her arms tightly and couldn't keep still. Something on the ground had her attention, but it was unclear what. Too many soldiers in the way.
Rick picked up his pace, merging with the crowd. “What’s going on? Let me see.”
When the soldiers noticed Rick, they parted. Everyone on base knew who Rick was—the demon-blooded survivor who could close gates with a look. He was Portsmouth’s resident VIP. And he hated it. Just like he'd hated it in his earlier life. Now that his pop career was behind him, irrelevant in this new world, he finally realised how much it had ruined him. He had become a pop star for his love of music. Everything else soured his passion.
General Wickstaff spotted Rick's arrival and sagged with relief. “Rick! Just the chap! Please tell me you can deal with this.”
Rick moved past the last two soldiers standing in his way and glanced towards the object at Wickstaff’s feet. He almost collapsed at what he saw.
“No,” he moaned. “No, how could this happen?”
Wickstaff glared at the glowing black stone like it was her worst enemy. “Who cares how it happened. Can you get rid of it? If this thing opens... Jesus Christ, there’ll be a bloody gate right in our midst.”
“Shitting hell,” said Keith. “Now I’m even more determined to come with you, Rick. This place is fucked.”
“C-can you deactivate it?” asked Maddy, looking at Rick like a child asking her daddy to crush a spider.
Rick shook his head. “I-I don’t know. Let me try.”
General Wickstaff hiked up her pyjamas and turned to the crowd. “Okay, you lot, let the dog sniff the rabbit. Move back and give Rick some space.”
The crowd stepped back as one, the circle of bodies expanding.
Rick took one step towards the black stone, as close as he dared get. His vision blurred, as if the stone emitted a blinding light that only he could see; yet it seemed to do the opposite. All light died within the obsidian rock.
Rick reached out his hand.
The stone began to throb, vibrate.
“It’s working,” said Wickstaff. “You’re doing it.”
Rick focused on the stone. He imagined his fingertips were lengthening, stretching out towards it. He gritted his teeth. His entire body tensed, spine creaking, threatening to break.
“Rick, are you okay?” asked Maddy. “You’re sweating.”
“Maddy, I… I can’t.”
“You must,” shouted Wickstaff. “We’re doomed if you don’t.”
“I can’t,” Rick repeated, he felt pressure in his eyes, like they were about to burst. “I…”
The black rock screeched, and an invisible force swatted Rick with enough force to launch him six feet in the air. He landed hard on his aching back twenty feet away on the parade square. The back of his skull struck the concr
ete like a soft melon.
Maddy rushed over to him. “Rick? Rick, are you okay?”
“I can’t… I can’t stop it. It’s coming.”
“What’s coming?” General Wickstaff demanded.
Rick’s vision was curling in at the edges. When he spoke his last words, his tongue felt sluggish and fat. “The biggest gate of them all.”
Guy walked the docks in the rain.
“Well, that’s not a good omen,” said Tosco, looking up at the dark grey clouds. The lieutenant wouldn't be accompanying Guy on his journey, but had insisted on seeing him off. The Hatchet had finally become his. Good luck to the man. While the lieutenant was wretchedly ambitious, he was also brave and honourable. He had helped Guy reach England, as promised, and had not developed into the thorn in his side Guy had been anticipating—a mild pain in the ass at best.
“Nothing wrong with a bit of rain,” said Skip. “It’ll remind us all of the sea.”
Guy smiled. “Indeed. It will also mask the sound of our travels. It's a good omen, Lieutenant, not a bad one.”
The expedition's headcount had reached twenty-six, a number less than Guy had hoped, but it would have to do. He was on his way now to collect the men Wickstaff had promised him. He needed to find Rick too. The man gave Guy the creeps, but his help was appreciated.
When he came across the parade square, Guy found Wickstaff in her pyjamas and Rick unconscious on the floor. Most disturbing of all, was the cold black stone embedded in the concrete nearby.
“I think the omens just got worse,” said Tosco.
Guy stared into the black stone and saw nothing but darkness.
Vamps
Vamps raced towards the group of burnt men with the alluminium baseball bat he had found in the garden of a crumbling maisonette. His MP5 had run out of bullets, so it would be melee from here on in. That suited him fine. The sun had risen on a brand-new day, and Vamps was there to meet it, arms swinging.
The bat connected with the skull of a first burnt man and caved in fragile bone like papier mâché. Blackened pulp spilled from the creature’s brainpan even as it remained standing for another three seconds. Vamps turned his attention to the next in line and used his foot to trip the demon to the ground before swinging the bat and caving in its skull too. That left three more burnt men.
Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga Page 66
