Takao ducked and waited for night to fall across the park. In the darkness, the enemy were only shapes, yet everything standing was a target. He stalked as many of them as he could from the shadows, thinning their numbers as much as he could before he would be forced to enter open battle. He was just one warrior, yet he had stood against an Oni and lived.
Eventually, all of the demons around the edge of the park lay dead in the grass, and the time came for Takao to test himself.
Honour demands I do this. A warrior does not turn from his duty.
With a deep breath, Takao stepped out of the trees and into the open, night air of the park. The demons saw him immediately and came all at once, screeching like bakeneko. He sliced his katana horizontally and beheaded three in a line, then twirled to slash diagonally downwards into the rancid thigh of another beast. At the end of each slice, Takao launched a new one, spinning and dancing through his teeming enemy without pause. To stop would mean death. A moment’s inaction would present his enemy a target to strike at, and with so many foes he could not avoid them all.
The demons fell in their droves as they ran at Takao from all angles. He sliced them apart like a mincer, sucking in their bodies and spitting out flesh. Their screeches turned to frustrated howls, and Takao could also hear the astonished yelps of the human prisoners.
Takao’s years of sedentary game playing began to punish him, and his sword arm grew tired, wishing it had the left one as support. Unable to move quickly enough, he was forced to shove out his mangled left hand to defend himself. A demon bit into his wrist, but the pain in that arm was already total. He was happy to sacrifice the ruined limb as he beheaded the attacking demon mid-chew with his sword.
Takao swung around in a wide arc to give himself more room. The amount of blood and gore at his feet told him that a hundred of the enemy might already lie dead, yet there were still hundreds more. The ground turned to bog and his feet slipped with every step. Eventually he twisted his knee and fell into a crouch. He pointed his katana upwards just in time to impale a lunging creature resembling an ape or monkey. The thing fell sideways, snapping the blade and taking a large portion of it to the ground.
Takao panted, tried to get up. His journey was at an end. His place to die was here, and his soul would join those of other warriors. Enough enemy lay dead to give him the honour that few men possessed in the afterlife.
Yet he wished not to die. Giving his life to the enemy made him sick, and memories of his family and childhood restricted his throat with grief. With a last effort, he pushed up onto his feet and stabbed out with his broken katana. He slit the throat of one demon, and then buried the broken blade into the eye socket of another. Then he lost his grip on the handle and lost the weapon forever.
Unarmed and exhausted, Takao got down on his knees and lowered his head. Let them be done with it quickly.
The killing blow took forever to come, and Takao wondered if it was fear stretching out his final seconds. But then he heard the commotion, sounds of battle still raging. When he lifted his head, he saw that he was no longer a lone warrior.
The prisoners had taken heart from his display and were fighting for their freedom. They fell upon the demons with rocks and clubs, beating them bloody and crushing them underfoot. The sheer number of prisoners was enough to overrun the enemy in seconds, and before long Takao was being helped up on either side by two heavily tattooed men. They were Yakuza.
“You shame us, young one,” said the older of the two men, a bald head instead of the blond mohawk of his companion. “Thank you for showing us the way before it was too late. We can kill them. We shall kill them.”
Takao lowered his head again. “There is only one who must die, and he cannot be killed.”
“Everything can be killed, young one, and any battle can be won. You just proved that.”
Takao lifted his head and stared up at the moon. “If it is true. If there is a way to kill the Oni, I will find it.”
The Yakuza waved an arm at the several hundred survivors behind him. “And you’ll have an army to help you.”
Takao smiled. Before long they would be legion.
Nancy Granger
Lewiston, Maine
Moving away from Brunswick had led them to Lewiston, where Nancy was glad to see a heavy Army presence on the near side of the river. The entire road was taken up with soldiers and they had been forced to abandon their car. It beggared believe that so many trucks and so many troops were able to assemble so quickly. She had always thought of the Army as being abroad, but the truth was that they were at home too—enough to get a lot of killing done. Perhaps things were not as hopeless as she had assumed.
Although, until she heard from Kyle and Alice, things were as bleak as could be. And she couldn’t shake the memory of defeated soldiers retreating through her home town of Durham.
Clark seemed to sense her anxiety and kept her from panicking with well-timed hugs and kisses. The feel of another person was surprisingly calming, yet she was upset by a desire to have her ex-husband hold her. Guy was a man of action and strength. He would know what to do right now, yet Clark seemed to have nothing other than sympathy to offer. He was a gentle man, a good man, but right now he was an ineffectual man. She missed Guy, and that brought her great turmoil.
Yet, she was eternally grateful that her ex-husband was heading towards their children and not to her. If anything happened to Alice or Kyle she would no longer be able to live.
“Can you believe all this?” said Clark, pointing towards a massive tank that probably had a girl’s name painted on it somewhere. Several soldiers sat on its sides as it rolled along slowly. “We’re going to kick those bastards straight back to Hell.”
Nancy gave a grim smile, less confident than her husband.
A soldier with a clipboard came racing over and barked loudly. “Out the way, we have troops moving through here.”
“Back towards Brunswick?” Nancy asked.
“Of course. The enemy are still there and we need to contain them before they get a chance to spread out.”
“But they beat us back. I saw the men retreating.”
“We were underprepared, ma’am, but now we know what we’re up against and will get the better of future engagements.”
Clark waved a fist. “You go get ‘em, man.”
The soldier was impassive. “Please head to Leeroy Jenkins High School if you need assistance. The refugee centre is being set up there.”
“Refugee?” said Nancy. “We’re not refugees.”
“Can you go home?”
“No, it’s not safe.”
“Then you are a refugee. Martial Law is in affect within the state of Maine, ma’am, and all civilians are ordered to either their homes or a designated refugee centre.”
Nancy folded her arms, not quite sure why she was irritated. “And if we refuse?”
“You’ll be arrested. Now move along.”
Clark grabbed her. “Come on, hun. It’ll be the best place to be. We came here for safety anyway.”
Nancy started moving, waiting until the soldier was out of earshot to reply. “I know. I just don’t like being ordered around by the military. They have no right to give commands.”
“They do during martial law. Anyway, they’re about to risk their lives for us, so give them a break.”
“You’re right. Come on then, let’s go to school.”
Leeroy Jenkins was about half mile down the block, and when they found it Nancy covered her mouth in shock. There was barely room to move as even the front steps of the building were overflowing with people. The front lawn housed gurneys full of moaning people calling out to one of the small handful of doctors buzzing between them. Other casualties wandered back and forth in a daze, wounds ranging from broken arms to gouged out eyes. The smell of blood and urine bleached the air.
“I feel sick.”
Clark wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. “I’m sure these people will be okay. Things will
get figured out.”
Nancy turned on him. “Figured out? Clark, monsters are attacking the earth. People are dead and dying—children. My children are in danger.”
Clark blinked as if hurt. Kyle and Alice were his kids too, biological or not. “I know, Nancy. Don’t you think I know? But what can we do except hope for the best?”
“We need to do more than hope, Clark.”
“You mean fight? Where would the sense be in that? We’re not soldiers.”
“Neither is Guy, but he’s doing something.”
Clark shook his head. “Jeez, Nancy. I know you’re hurting, but jeez.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just hate being a witness to all this. I feel so powerless. I…” She started sobbing. “I just want to hear their voices again. I want to hear them so badly.”
Clark held her again. “Alice and Kyle are okay. I know it. Let’s just go inside and try to find out more.”
They pushed through the mass of bodies and made it into the school’s main building. Inside, the misery was just as pervasive. There were less injured people, but the shell-shock had taken its toll on just about everyone. It was like walking through an army of ghosts—expressionless faces and faraway stares.
A woman reached out a hand to Nancy as she passed, tears wetting her cheeks. “My daughter? Have you seen a little girl named Samantha? She has on a pink scarf and a My Little Pony T-shirt. We were in Brunswick. I… lost her.”
Nancy dodged the woman’s hand and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. We came from Durham.”
The woman turned away sobbing.
“That poor woman,” said Clark.
There were no soldiers in the school, but several men and women wore name tags and held clipboards. Each one of them gave a direction, which Nancy and Clark followed until they were inside the school’s gymnasium. The bowels of Hell.
Maybe it was the sporting atmosphere of the basketball courts, but the temper inside was manic. People shoved and fought one another as if one opposing teams. Women screamed and men swore. What they were fighting over was unclear, but it was obvious that things were quickly heading towards chaos. A teenager, only a few years older than Kyle, was kicking an older man on the floor and yelling at him for being a bitch.
Nancy looked at Clark imploringly. “Do something!”
“Like what? It’s nothing to do with us. Let’s just keep our heads down.”
“That man needs help.”
“Not our help.”
Nancy looked at her husband as if her were a stranger. Her mouth fell open but she didn’t talk. Instead, she shoved Clark aside and went to help the man herself. She shoved the teenager aside, catching him enough by surprise that he stumbled. He raised a fist but stopped when he saw she was a woman. Least he had that tiny amount of honour.
“Leave him alone, you animal,” she growled.
The teenager looked down at the old man and sneered. “This fucker used to shag my mum before she caught him cheating on her.”
Nancy stood between the older man and the teenager. “And you think that because things are chaotic you can take advantage and attack him?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it.”
“Well, you can’t. If we all turn on each other, we’re screwed. Just because the police are busy right now, doesn’t mean the laws don’t apply.”
“Look around you, lady. There is no law anymore. I can do whatever the fuck I want. Who’s going to stop me?”
Nancy took a step towards the teenager. “I will.”
The youngsters chuckled. “Good luck with that. Think I can handle one bitch.”
“And her husband,” said Clark, moving up beside her. “I might not look like much, but you wanna see me go when some little fuckwit threatens my wife.”
The teenager glared, glanced at the older man still moaning on the floor, and then huffed. “Watch your backs.”
Clark went to hold Nancy as the teenagers stomped away, but she ducked and went to help the injured man. “You okay, sir?”
It obviously hurt him to talk, but he clutched his ribs and nodded. “Yes, thank you. I understand the boy being angry. What he said is true.”
Nancy helped the man to his feet. “Doesn’t give him the right to hurt you.”
“Thank you for helping me. Nobody else seemed to care.”
Nancy looked around at the other people, some of them watching but most too possessed by their own situations. “I can’t believe people are acting like this. Don’t they understand what’s going on?”
The injured man nodded. “I think it’s because they understand very well that they are acting like this. What the boy said is true, the rules don’t matter much right now. We’re going to be as much a threat to ourselves as the monsters.”
Clark sighed.
Nancy shook her head. “I won’t let that happen.”
The injured man offered out his hand. “Name’s George, and if you need my help just let me know. I’m from Lewiston, and I know some of the people here—evidently.”
Nancy shook the man’s hand and smiled. “I do need your help, George. First, I need you to find me a phone. Then, I want you to gather all of the people you know that don’t want to attack you. If I’m stuck in this mess for a while at least, then I am going to see people behave.”
“What are you planning, Nancy?” asked Clark.
She looked at her husband and wished he was stronger. “If the police are gone, then we will just have to police ourselves. Time to stop being a witness and start being a doer.”
Clark did not look happy, but George smiled.
Cheese Burger
New York
“Hey, a cheese swiss. Nice!” Jim reached into the deli counter and plucked out the 6-inch sub. His fellow Cheese Burgers were munching on bagels they had found in the ovens. The owner of the deli had run off when the attack on New York started. The Cheese Burger comedy troupe had been filming a skit outside at the time, and it had been a stroke of luck that the owner had left the door wide open, because it had provided refuge when an army of demons came marching down the avenue hours.
The skit they had been performing was a prank based around fake interviews with passers by. Sully had been in the middle of asking a young Brooklinite whether or not she would hold his pet goldfish while he performed his sound checks when the city had erupted. The irony was they had been intending to film beside the gate in Central Park, but the volume of people made it impossible. The streets elsewhere had been pretty deserted, but they had a schedule to keep so they went with it and kept on working. Filming outside the deli had saved their lives because Central Park had been a bloodbath. They watched the whole thing on Mitch’s tablet until it became clear that the horror was about to show itself first hand. Most of the horror seemed to be happening in Manhattan, but there were plenty of monsters elsewhere it seemed.
When T had seen people screaming at the end of the street, he had bid the group inside the deli. There, they had locked the doors and pushed a heavy glass counter in front of it. Fortunately, the shop was narrow and the single window was frosted. The horror passed them by without notice, flowing through the streets for hours and hours until, finally, things had gone quiet. Night fell and day began. Now they were less scared and more hungry.
Jim pulled a face, his bulging eyes popping out above his aquiline nose. “Stale. I can’t eat this.”
Sully, the chubby one of the group shrugged his shoulders. “Better than starving, man. You shouldn’t waste food.”
“This isn’t food. It’s like something on the bottom of my shoe.”
“Think we should head out now?” said Mitch nervously.
T shook his head, greasy long hair bunching out behind each ear. “We’re safe here. Why leave?”
“Because I don’t want to live in a deli,” said Sully,
“Especially one with stale subs,” said Jim. “I can’t live like this.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Mitch cre
pt up to the window. It was impossible to see clearly, but there was no movement outside the panes. The street outside seemed to be deserted. “I think it’s over now.”
Sully moved up beside Mitch at the window. “Where would we go?”
“Head for the nearest precinct. I want to see cops, you know?”
Jim laughed. “Last time T saw cops they cornholed him.”
“Ohh,” said T. “There’s no cameras running now, man.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry, man.”
Mitch slumped up against the counter pushed up against the door. “I need air. I can’t stay in here any longer. Been longer than twenty-four hours.”
“Pity, Todd left,” said T. Todd was their cameraman and had run off instead of holing up. “We might have been able to get some footage. Your face right now is newsworthy.”
“We’re professional clowns,” said Mitch. “Not reporters.”
“I guess. So are we doing this?”
Sully nodded, but looked like he might throw up. “Out of all of us, I’m the slowest. If we see monsters, you’re gonna leave me.”
Jim nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. It was nice knowing you, buddy.”
Mitch started shoving at the counter. “Help me move this.”
The Cheese Burgers got to work and managed to shoulder the counter aside enough to open the door.
Jim shoved Mitch in the back. “Go on, Mitch. See if the coast is clear.”
Mitch sighed, but did as he was told. He opened the door a tad and put his eye against the gap. “I… I think it’s safe.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you should go outside and shout a bit.”
Mitch looked at Jim. “Yeah, no thanks.”
“Come on,” said Sully, clutching himself nervously. “Let’s just do this.”
They took a moment to ensure that nothing came, and then filtered out of the deli and onto the street. New York was quiet, which was highly disturbing. New York didn’t do quiet. While several vehicles lined the street, no taxis fought for lanes and no pedestrians bunched up against the crosswalks. The shops on one side of the street were empty, and the brownstones opposite were still. Were people hiding out, or were the Cheese Burgers the last men in the city? Should they have run like everyone else?
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 58
