David glanced back over his shoulder. “Richard, are you sure about this? I don’t fancy ending up as a human pizza slice.”
“Go faster.”
"Oh, bugger it."
The bus lurched.
Skullface raised his arms on either side. At his feet, the human corpse pile began to move. Arms and legs straightened. Bloody jaws gnashed. Then, all at once, the human cadavers leapt up and wailed in agony.
“Zombies,” said David. “Bloody zombies.”
Richard cursed. “Our dead are being used against us. Our enemy gets stronger as we get weaker. There really is no hope.”
“Fuck that,” said David. “Our bacon's not burnt yet.”
The bus neared eighty and began to complain. The engine whined. The bolted seats, struts, and fixtures groaned. The vehicle had reached its limit. Skullface, Andras, and a squad of newly raised corpses stood in the middle of the road, defiant and unafraid.
David growled, in fear or anger, Richard didn’t know, but it was time to put his plan into action. He grabbed the wheel.
“What are you soddin' doing, Richard?”
“Just keep your foot on that pedal.”
David removed his hands from the wheel and allowed Richard to take control. The bus kept its speed. Skullface and Andras stood their ground.
They would not move.
This was a game.
David closed his eyes. “Nice knowing you, chap.”
Richard squeezed the steering wheel, eyes wide open and glued to the merciless beasts ahead.
“Richard!”
“Hold on!” He yanked the wheel hard to the right and the bus whipped sideways, throwing everyone inside against the windows or into the aisle. Screams filled the cabin, and grew louder as the wheels on the right left the road. The view through the windscreen tilted forty-five degrees. Skullface and the angel disappeared from view as the bus turned sharply and began to tip.
“Foot off the accelerator,” Richard shouted. “Get your feet up!”
The bus skidded on its two remaining wheels, teetering at the point of catastrophe.
The screams grew louder, escaping even the soldiers now.
Richard shouted, “Step on it again, David. Hit the accelerator.”
The back of the bus swung around, striking Skullface like a giant baseball bat and clipping the angel's knees. Both demons bellowed in a glorious mixture of pain and surprise. Richard chanced a quick look to his left and saw Andras crashing to the ground like a falling oak.
The bus’s tyres squealed as they bit the road. The interior rocked back and forth.
The engine squealed.
Then the view through the windscreen stopped tilting and the world fell back into a horizontal frame. All four wheels gripped the road, and the bus's springs bounced hard enough that they risked snapping.
Gradually, like a calming ocean, the bus reacquainted itself with gravity. The vehicle had lost half its speed but was once again heading along the road, this time without any obstacles ahead.
The screams inside the bus stopped, replaced by shocked silence.
Richard let go of the wheel and slumped against David's chair. “Get us out of here.”
“Where on earth did you learn to drive like that, old boy?”
“Advanced Driving for Police. Never tried it in a bus before though.”
Guy Granger
Guy waited for dawn, as the birds were still sleeping when he first opened his eyes. Inside the Captain's cabin on the Hatchet, he switched on the light and got dressed, but before he left, he picked up a picture that lived on his desk. The photograph had been taken at the Lewiston Fair when Alice was 3 and Kyle a few years older. Guy and Nancy stood on either side of their kids with bright beaming smiles. The happy American family. Now Kyle was dead, Nancy most likely too, and home was just a memory. No more fairs. No more beaming smiles.
But Alice was alive. He had spoken to her, heard her voice.
I’m coming to get you, baby.
There was a knock on the door as Guy had been about to open it. He found Skip waiting for him in the passageway. The old chief gave him a thin-lipped smile. “You ready to get going, Captain?”
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 you, 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.”
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 66
