There was a scuffle up ahead spilling out into the road and causing Mina to stop. The police had gathered, forcing a group of youths to sit on the ground. One of the officers spotted the Army jeep and came over.
“Bout time we got a little help,” the officer said.
“I’m not here on behalf of the Army,” Martin said. “I’m just getting these two reporters to their offices.”
The officer sighed grumpily. “Oh, how are things in the city? Still bad?”
“No, not bad. Finished. There’s nothing left in London. The Army got destroyed. I might be the only soldier left from Hyde Park.”
The police officer went white. “Shit. What the hell are we dealing with, here? Is it really monsters?”
Mina nodded. “We’re at war, and we need to be prepared. Everybody, not just the police and army. We all need to be ready to fight.”
“Fight monsters? You must be joking. People won’t fight. I’ve just spent half the night trying to stop people robbing each other.”
“If we don’t start working together, we don’t have a chance,” Mina reiterated.
“Just do what you can, Officer,” said Martin. “Those kids you have under arrest. What did they do?”
“What didn’t they do? Breaking into shops, kicking in car windscreens, joyriding...”
Mina looked at the gang of youths and saw beyond their hoodies and baseball caps. She remembered Vamps and at once stopped seeing disenchanted youths and saw potential heroes. She saw young, fit, healthy men with anger inside them that could be put to good use. “You need to talk to those boys,” she said. “Tell them what’s coming. Give them something to do, and they’ll be glad to be of use. I promise you.”
The officer sneered. “What? You want me to deputise a bunch of thugs?”
Martin nodded adamantly. “Yes! We just lost an army in Hyde Park. This country needs fighters. You have a bunch of them sitting in the road. This isn’t just a news of the week event. This is it—the big summer blockbuster, end of the world, fight for survival type of gig. You have a chance to make a difference, Officer. Get your men and those boys ready, because war is coming to us all.”
The officer looked at everyone inside the jeep, then back at Corporal Martin. “You’re not joking? This is really the apocalypse or something?”
Martin nodded gravely. “Everywhere is under attack, you probably already know that. It’s going to fall on men like you to fight back. There won’t be a British Army to sort this all out. It’s going to be fighting in streets and dying in pain. It will be youngsters, like the ones you have under arrest, that will fight for our survival. So go tell them what they’re up against before it’s too late.”
The officer nodded. “Okay, I’ll round ‘em up and get ‘em to work. Every able-bodied person I can find will be ready, you have my word.”
Martin saluted the officer. “What’s your name?”
“Richard Honeywell.”
“I wish you well, Richard. Stay alive.”
“I… Yes, you too.”
Mina shifted into gear and got going. She glanced in her rear view mirror as Officer Honeywell stood the gang of youths up and addressed them. He looked like a leader rallying his troops. That was exactly what he needed to be.
Then she headed towards the newspaper offices, comforted by the recognisable streets along which she’d commuted almost every day since she’d joined the Echo ten months ago. It’d been her first professional job since gaining her photography degree from Falmouth. Her father had insisted on her taking a minor in business studies, and she had truthfully found that it had helped her when looking for work as a journalist. It gave her uses beyond taking snaps. Still, her father had not been happy when she went into photography instead of business. Respect and fortune were gained through trade, not by indulging in one’s hobbies. Mina’s father did not consider photojournalism a proper job.
She wondered how he was.
The last voicemail she’d received from her father had informed her that he was at home awaiting her imminent return. Her absence had forced him to close up the chip shop, and he was extremely disappointed in her. Well, he could go right on thinking about himself. She would do whatever she could to help. Right now, she was the one doing something while her father cowered at home.
“We’re here,” said David, more for the benefit of Martin and Alice than anybody else. Alice continued staring out of the window, but Martin sighed with relief. He was probably as glad as Mina to finally stop fleeing. They needed to regroup and re-strategize. Running only made you tired.
Mina pulled the jeep up behind Carol’s Mazda and switched off the engine. She put the ignition key in her pocket, even though the vehicle didn’t belong to her. If Martin asked for it back later, she would hand it over happily, but until then, she liked having access to a vehicle.
“Help me!”
Mina glanced into the road and saw a man lying twenty metres away next to the curb. He looked about thirty-years of age and he reached out to her and pleaded. “I’m hurt.”
Martin raised his rifle suspiciously.
“Please help me,” the stranger repeated.
Martin took a step away from the jeep and moved into the centre of the road. He looked at Mina and then nodded ahead. “Go, check on him. I have you covered.”
Seeing no reason to assume danger, yet possessing nerves frayed to tatters, Mina headed cautiously up the road. The dark-haired man’s olive skin gave him a look of the Mediterranean. He wore simple jeans and a white t-shirt stained with blood. As she got closer, she noticed that his nose was bleeding.
“Are you alright? What happened to you?”
The man remained lying on his side and moaned. “Some kids gave me a kicking, took my car, and left me here.”
Mina knelt down beside the man and placed a hand on his arm. He was cold. “How long have you been lying here?”
“I don’t know. An hour maybe. I… I was afraid to get up.”
“It’s okay now. You can come with me.”
The man pushed himself up into a sitting position and winced. “Thank you. My name’s Andras.” Despite his uncommon name, he had no accent to speak of, plain spoken and bordering on posh.
Mina helped the man to his feet and took him over to join the others. “This is Corporal Martin,” she introduced him, “and my colleague, David, and this here is Alice.”
Alice didn’t bother to look up, but Andras said hello anyway.
“Andras was mugged,” Mina explained.
“Not to worry, old chap,” said David, patting him on the back. “We’ve all been through the wringer tonight. We’re heading inside, and you’re welcome to come join us.”
Andras nodded sheepishly. “Thank you.”
So they all headed inside the building and went upstairs to the third floor. The lower floors were all unlit, but the third floor offices were glowing with life and buzzing with action. Almost every member of the Echo’s reporting staff was present, either at their computers or on their phones—some of them both, typing away with their hands while holding a phone between their head and shoulder. Mina had never seen the office so motivated. Even Carol, usually sitting in her office and violating the smoking ban, was up on her feet, bare-footed in stockings and waddling around on her mahogany cane. Numerous times, Mina had seen that cane waved in someone’s face, including her own, but she was glad to see it now. She felt at home again. The world seemed a little less off-kilter.
Carol spotted them and came running on over. “You made it! I’d begun to wonder if you’d ever get here.”
“The roads were rather… chaotic,” said David. “I gave you all we had on the phone. What’s the word this end?”
“It’s a bloody shambles. France and Spain have put their Governments on boats and abandoned their own countries in their time of need. America is fighting back, as you’d expect, but they’ve been hit bloody hard. New York took it right up the arse, poor buggers. China and Russia have killed as
many of their own people as they have the enemy. They’ve flattened Moscow. Africa is doing the best, believe it or not. So many of its countries are heavily armed that their entire populations are effectively armies now. I bet the ugly buggers that came through the gates in Somalia didn’t know what hit ‘em.”
“What about us?” asked Mina. “How is the U.K. doing?”
Carol sighed. “You know the answer to that, luv, because you saw it for yourself. Our Army is mostly overseas, and most of what wasn’t disappeared in Hyde Park. What happened in Hyde Park has happened a dozen other places. Army got the shit kicked out of ‘em.”
“I got word the Army is regrouping in Colchester,” said Martin, seemingly wounded by Carol’s remarks.
Carol examined the Corporal like she had just realised he was standing there. “That’s true, my love, but what’s left to regroup? Not a lot. We’re up shit creek, not without a paddle, but without a bloody damn boat. We are literally swimming in shit. I can almost taste it. Jesus Christ it’s a sodding mess.”
Martin glanced sideways at Mina and spoke in a hushed tone. “This woman is your boss?”
Carol heard the comment and pointed her finger. “Yes, I’m her bloody boss, and anybody else who steps inside this office. The Echo is my paper, and we’re all working our arses off to get word out to the people about what’s happening. You here to help, Sergeant Stiff-neck, or are you going to put the kettle on?”
Martin fidgeted. “It’s Corporal Martin.”
Carol’s eyes bore into him. “Milk, three sugars. Kettle’s at the back.”
Martin frowned, went to speak, but then trotted off towards the back of the office, like a good little boy.
Carol raised an eyebrow at Mina once Martin was out of earshot. “That the fella who rescued you?”
“Yes, he saved our lives.”
“Then I’m glad to have him. Now, who’s this little beauty?” Carol knelt in front of Alice, who stared at the floor and said nothing.
“This is Alice,” said Mina. “We… She lost her brother in Hyde Park.”
Carol let out a long, pained sigh. “A big brother, I bet? I had a big brother, too. He’s gone now, died of the cancer four years back. Don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost him at your age. I want to hear all about him, my love. He might be gone, but the more people you tell about him, the more his spirit will live on. I have chocolate in my office. Will you come share it with me while you tell me all about your brother? I want to know everything, starting with his favourite colour.”
“His name was Kyle. He liked blue.”
Carol gave Alice an enormous smile. “An American? I love Americans. So, did Kyle like his baseball?”
“No, he liked ice hockey. Clark took him to see the Montreal Canadiens in Canada once.”
“Clark your daddy?”
“Step-daddy.”
“Right you are. You can tell me all about him too. Come on now, my love.” Carol took Alice’s hand and straightened up. She turned to David. “Big Jimmy will catch you up on things. I’ll be in my office with Alice, but I don’t want to be disturbed. Not much else a woman my age can do but calm a child’s nerves.”
David nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I need good news, but don’t think I’ll get it.”
Carol walked away just as Corporal Martin appeared with a mug of piping tea. She snatched it off him as she passed and left him to stand there looking confused.
Mina chuckled. “Come on, Martin. Let’s find you something to do other than make tea.”
He looked at her and nodded eagerly. “Please do.”
Sitting at her computer, Mina realised that things were as bad as Carol had told them. People in Scotland were fleeing to the highlands, and refugees from the cities flooded the British countryside. There were over eighty gates in the U.K., spread wide enough that nowhere was safe. Likewise, America was under attack far and wide, but had a little more land to work with. Some areas did not have gates at all, and it was to these areas, like the greater Chicago area, where survivors were fleeing. It was also true that Africa was doing better than most other places. As Mina streamed the news channels broadcasting out of Somalia, Zimbabwe, Nigeria, and South Africa, she saw armed militia holding their own against the hordes of creatures. For the first time in history, the whites and blacks in South Africa were fighting alongside each other, instead of against. Mina marvelled at the sight of a little white boy and a black girl holding rifles and standing over the corpse of a demon. Likewise, Al-Jazeera, in the Middle East, gave positive reports of resistance in Iraq, Iran, Jordan, and Israel, but their reputation for propaganda made them less than credible.
The more and more Mina researched, the more she understood that Corporal Martin was right. The nations faring best were the ones where the citizens were armed and fighting alongside the military. Countries with a political climate of unrest, such as Somalia, followed by places like America and Canada where guns were legal, were giving as good as they got. The countries worse off were the ones with the most totalitarian governments, like Russia and China. In those countries, the people at the top seemed happy to scorch the earth to defeat the enemy. Moscow and Shanghai were both burning craters now.
Whatever chance Britain had was unclear, but it was a country famously free of firearms, which meant that it was now almost defenceless. Even the nation’s police force used weapons sparingly. The only ones to use them in any significant capacity was the Army, but its majority was overseas, further contributing to those countries like Iraq who were already fighting back.
Exasperated, Mina glanced around the room.
Andras had gone with Martin to try to liaise with the military. David was working alongside Big Jimmy—an overweight West Country native with a lot of intelligence, but very little personality—to run operations. Mina had taken her orders from Mitchell, the newspaper’s System Support Manager, and had been tasked with gaining insight into the situation worldwide to try and form an overall picture. What she really wanted was to find out what was behind those gates—where did they lead? She thought of the creatures as demons now, even though nothing had confirmed it. What did other people think? Did anybody understand what was going on?
The Internet was ablaze with theories—millions of people hiding in their homes and offering opinions. The two main factions were Aliens vs Demons. One forum online operated only with the understanding that the black stones had opened up inter-dimensional portals and that humanity was being invaded by an alien species. Conversely, those who believed Demons were responsible, pointed out that many of the enemy resembled burned human beings, not aliens. What intelligent species would evolve to have burned flesh? The other side would then rebut with the explanation that the burns were from an unforeseen side effect of travelling through the gates. The theoretical victory tilted more towards the demon theory whenever somebody brought up the giants. That they were flawlessly beautiful and possessed scorched wings upon their backs gave credence to the fact they could indeed be Fallen Angels from the depths of Hell. Mina agreed with that theory, then chided herself for believing in something so absurd. Yet, the more she said the word ‘demon’ the more it lost its potency and supernatural connotations. Now, the word was as real and mundane as ‘dog’ or ‘cat’. It became easier and easier to grasp her new reality every minute, yet harder and harder to accept.
They were being invaded by demons.
She listed the things she knew for sure:
Black stones opened gates.
Demons (?) came through.
Giants are in charge of the demons?
Need to fight back. Everyone must fight back.
Humanity must fight back.
Fight.
Fight.
Fight.
Mina sighed as she realised that she had so little to offer anybody who might read the newspaper’s website. Everyone needed to understand that they were at war, but even if they did, what should they do? This wasn’
t like watching Iraq on the news and remarking upon the politics of it all. This was war on people’s doorstep, outside the local McDonalds. There could be no pacifists in this. Everyone needed to be ready to kill the enemy.
But could ordinary people become killers—soldiers?
And would that even be enough?
Mina leaned back over the keyboard and typed a message onto the front page of their website:
NOTICE: Please post anything you know about the creatures. Have you seen one die? How? What do you know that might help others? Please, please share whatever you know, wherever and whoever you are. Please share. We need to help each other.
It was nothing more than a shot in the dark, but just maybe somebody would share something helpful that she could share.
Ring!
Mina flinched as her phone rang. She had forgotten she’d switched it back on earlier to check for messages. There had been a couple of texts from a handful of friends, but most of them just wanted her to tell them what was going on. The only thing she sent them back in reply was: Find weapons. Fight. It was short and a tad dramatic, but there was no time to caress people’s sensibilities. Millions were probably already dead, and those remaining would have to go from nought to sixty in a single second. As Mina looked at her phone now, she saw that her father was calling her. It was 7AM, and maybe he’d just woken up. She was the first thing he had thought about. That affected her in a strange way. Made her want to cry.
“Hello, dad. I sent you a text. I’m safe, so you don’t need to worry.”
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 17
