Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6

by Wright, Iain Rob

  But there were problems too. Problems like the fact Kamiyo was peering down at another dead child. Emily was only twelve-years old, but she’d never reach thirteen. Her cause of death had been an innocuous nail jutting out of one of the canoes in the shed. A careless accident, but one which had taken her life in the space of six days. Nothing Kamiyo had done to keep the three-inch gash clean of infection had worked, and within forty-eight hours the gash was oozing pus, and the redness and swelling had crept up her entire arm. In the end, sepsis killed Emily.

  Kamiyo also had a patient with suspected Lyme disease, and a child with a broken finger. The Typhoid had burnt itself out days ago, taking no other victims, but it had left the sufferers weak and depressed. When you counted the dead, sickness had taken more than the demons had during their dreadful attack two weeks ago.

  And great stone walls couldn’t keep out sickness.

  “You need help with her, Doc?” Vamps nodded to Emily. The young man had not turned violent since the night he’d attacked Kamiyo and Jackie in that darkened room. It appeared that, whoever the Red Lord was, he had gone for now—perhaps forever. Every day, the relief on Vamps’ face grew increasingly obvious, and eventually he had asked to have his bonds removed. Kamiyo reluctantly agreed, despite arguments from others in the camp, and the two of them had gone on to become friends of a sort. Despite being shunned by everyone at the camp, Vamps worked tirelessly to help wherever he was needed.

  “We should tell the others,” said Kamiyo, patting Emily’s damp hair so it was neat. “They will want to bury her with the others.”

  Vamps sucked at his teeth and shook his head sadly. “She was a good kid. Wanted to play violin in an orchestra, she told me. She must have had a different upbringing than I did, bruv.”

  “But she ended up in the same place anyway,” said Kamiyo. “We all did.”

  “Yeah, Doc, I guess you’re right.”

  Kamiyo asked Vamps to keep watch on the patients while he reported Emily’s death to the others. He went downstairs, and the first person he bumped into was Philip. The man still hated him after losing his son and had been very vocal about it in the last two weeks.

  “Christopher,” said Philip curtly, refusing to call him ‘Doctor’ like everybody else did.

  “Philip. How are you?”

  “Wonderful, thank you for asking. It’s almost like my son hadn’t died two weeks ago.”

  Kamiyo rolled his eyes. While he appreciated that the man was in pain, he was losing patience with the endless derision. “I’m afraid Emily has just passed away. Could you get word to Jackie for me, please?”

  Philip shook his head in disgust. “You killed another kid? Go tell her yourself. Don’t get me involved.”

  “Infection killed her Philip, not me. As for getting involved, we’re all in this together. If a child dies, it’s on all of us.”

  “You’re the only doctor here. Not a very good one, admittedly.”

  “Yes, I’m a doctor,” Kamiyo shot back. “Not a miracle worker. I have no medicines to administer. No equipment. No staff. I do whatever I can, so get off my fucking back, Philip.”

  “Do not swear at me, or I promise you I’ll—”

  “You’ll what, Philip? You want to throw another punch? Do it!”

  Philip stood for a moment, lip curling, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I’ll pass your message along to Jackie,” he said. “Tell her you’ve failed again.”

  Kamiyo waited for him to leave, then stepped out into the fresh air to take a breather and calm down. He’d never been a violent man in his past, but it took a lot not to strike Philip. A man could only take so much.

  Steven was nearby, carrying a large fish that Kamiyo had no idea the identity of. He nodded to Kamiyo and smiled, reminding him that others welcomed his presence despite Philip’s misgivings.

  “Morning, Doc.”

  “Morning, Steven. How was the catch today?”

  “Not bad. We’re getting two or three bigguns each morning, so can’t complain. Look at this Barbel, she’s a stonker.”

  “Good, good.” Kamiyo thought of telling Steven about Emily but decided he’d prefer the news come from Jackie. She was better at making announcements.

  The sky was overcast, and the breeze from the lake chilly. Kamiyo wondered how everyone would fare once winter arrived. The castle’s stone was frigid, but there was room for a campfire right outside and several hearths inside. The bedding had been relocated from the cabin and placed into the castle’s upper rooms, but few in the group possessed coats suitable for winter. How much sickness would the camp be dealing with then?

  Kamiyo spotted Nathan sitting by the lake and gave an involuntary shudder. The glowing light beneath the water hadn’t returned since the night he’d seen it while saving Vamps. Jackie had asked him not to share the theory of there being a gate beneath the lake with anyone else unless they were certain it was the case. They didn’t have proof, nor could they do anything to address the potentiality. Even so, it worried Kamiyo to see Nathan so close to the water. He went over to check on the boy. His wrist had been healing well, but Emily had taught him that things could spiral downwards quickly. “Hello, Nathan, what are you doing?”

  Nathan looked up from what he was doing, revealing a pile of blood and guts. “Just preparing a fish,” he said.

  Kamiyo was not averse to blood—two years in a maternity ward thrashed any squeamishness from a person—but what he saw now disturbed him. Nathan wasn’t so much gutting the large carp as cruelly eviscerating it, slicing at its organs and innards instead of merely removing them.

  “Um, didn’t Steve collect all the fish this morning, Nathan?”

  “He’s training me. I want to be a butcher like him. Next time we catch another rabbit, he’s going to show me how to skin it.”

  “Oh, well, it’s good you’re acquiring new skills. How’s the wrist?”

  Nathan held it up in its sling bandage, which was stained with fish blood. “It hurts when I move it, but not as much as it did.”

  “Great. Make sure you wash your hands in clean water when you’re done here.”

  “Will the blood make me sick?”

  “Not necessarily. But it will make you stink.”

  “Is Emily dead yet?”

  Kamiyo frowned. “Um, yes, she passed this morning, but why would you assume that?”

  He shrugged. “It was obvious. She kept getting worse. Could you have helped her with medicine?”

  “Yes, probably quite easily.”

  “Shame.” Nathan said it without emotion.

  “Were you friends with Emily, Nathan?”

  “Nobody is my friend here.”

  Kamiyo folded his arms and waited a moment before speaking again. He felt like the conversation was nearing a sensitive issue. “I’ve noticed you don’t interact with the other kids, Nathan. Do you feel alone here?”

  “We’re all alone here, Doctor.”

  “That’s not correct, Nathan. We have each other.”

  Nathan prodded the dead carp with his knife. “You’re wrong. People only care about themselves. The only loyalty in this world is blood, but there are no more families left. Survivors only care about surviving.”

  Kamiyo had suspected it for a while—Nathan was suffering from some kind of dissociative disorder. Whether it was the trauma of recent events, or something deeper, was unclear, but he was certain the child had a clinical lack of empathy. The question was whether it was reversible or permanent. “Do you miss your family, Nathan?”

  Nathan frowned as if he didn’t understand the question, but he did give a nod after a moment’s thought. “I miss my little sister sometimes. Her name was Sophie. I miss the sound of her laugh.”

  “You were close with Sophie?”

  He shrugged. “I used to look after her. She was mine.”

  “Yours?”

  He nodded and showed emotion, a faint glimmer of a wistful smile. “I had no friends at school, and mum was
never around. She put me in after-school clubs for as long as she could, so she could work. Sophie was the only person who was ever happy to see me. When I got home at night, she would always smile and give me a great big hug. When she had nightmares, she would climb into my bed. She was happier when I was around. Only time I ever felt like I mattered was when I was looking after Sophie. She cried the morning I caught the coach to come here. She wanted me to stay home. If I had, I’d be dead. I wish I knew what happened to her though.”

  “She might have made it somewhere safe. You did, Nathan.”

  He shook his head. “No, she’s gone. I hope it was quick, but I don’t think it was. I think she was screaming my name when the monsters ate her.”

  “You shouldn’t think about things like that, Nathan. It’s not good for you.”

  “What else should I think about?” He held up his bloody knife, wafting the stench of fish guts. “When the demons come, I’ll be ready. Will everyone else be?”

  Kamiyo looked up at the castle, to where people were milling about with various tasks. They were more ready than they had ever been, but it still might not be enough. As cold and disconnected as Nathan so clearly was, he might actually be the most suitable person to survive in this new reality. He did not shy away from the horror. Instead, he embraced it.

  “Everybody is ready, Nathan, because they all know that sticking together is the only way to stay safe.”

  Nathan stared at him blankly. “Lot of good it did Emily.”

  “We need medicine,” said Kamiyo, nearing anger at the thought of the dead girl. “If we had some basic supplies, I think we could ride things out here long into the future. Without them though…”

  “So, go get some. You survived outside the forest. Go find what we need. Save us, Doctor Kamiyo.”

  It was a terrifying suggestion, but something fast becoming necessary. “You might be right, Nathan. It’s something I need to think about.”

  “Not really. We can’t hide in the forest forever, can we? When you go out to find supplies, take me with you.”

  “What? Nathan, no! You and the other children need to stay here.”

  “I’m fourteen.”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Exactly! I need to know what’s out there, so I can survive it. You can show me how to make it outside the forest, how to fight.”

  Kamiyo shook his head. “You survive by avoiding fighting.”

  “But you can’t avoid it forever. I want to live, Doctor, that’s all. Hiding here won’t make any of us stronger. If the demons ever take this place, I want to know how to cope on my own.”

  Everything the kid was saying made perfect sense, yet it still felt wrong to willingly expose a child to the horrors of this world. Yet, there might come a day when the children needed to survive on their own—a time for the young to learn how to face the monsters underneath their beds.

  “I’ll think about it, Nathan, okay? I’ll think about it.” Kamiyo turned back towards the cabin, ending this tense conversation that had caused his palms to sweat. Why did Nathan frighten him almost as much as the demons?

  25

  TED

  Ted strolled the ramparts with a canister of petrol in hand. During the last few hours, he’d had the teenagers wrapping arrows in cloth. If the demons tried coming up the front approach, they would rain fire on them. Next on his list was to restore the gate inside the lower guardhouse and shore up the outer wall in several places. With enough time, Ted also intended to dig trenches and place spikes. Anything to make life harder for the demons.

  He wanted to see the lot of ‘em dead.

  The more time Ted spent at the castle, the more he thought it might actually be possible to make a stand. The walls, if anything, had only strengthened over the centuries, compacted by their own massive weight. It would take a hellfire missile to knock them down, and he couldn’t imagine the demons turning up in Apache helicopters. Leaving would be easier once he knew the people here were safe. Another week, maybe two, and he would’ve done more than enough to walk away with a clean conscience.

  With the petrol placed strategically along the castle’s walls, he now headed into the castle’s courtyard. The area had been filled with tents, and a campfire was fed daily and lit nightly. Inside the castle, hearths burned constantly, and cot beds were set up throughout the upper floors. All in all, there was plenty of space for the group to live their lives. There was even a dungeon if such a thing ever became necessary.

  The group spent most evenings eating together in the main hall which was a wide, cavernous room in the centre of the castle’s ground floor. It had the largest hearth, several windows, and a collection of ancient tables cut from solid, dark wood. With the modern chairs they had requisitioned from the cabin, the castle’s cavernous interior became an odd mixture of ancient and new—much like a renovated church. It was a warm, fortified space, and its embrace lifted people’s spirit’s after a hard day’s work.

  Ted went into the main hall now but continued until he entered a small chapel on its east side. No one in the group claimed to be overtly religious, and even those who identified as Christian did not require a space to pray, so the chapel was put to use as a pantry. Small and chilly, it was the closest thing they had to a refrigerator.

  Jackie noticed Ted in the pantry and came to talk to him. “Ted, is there anything I can help you with today? I must say, I feel a lot safer since you braced the front gate.”

  Ted had managed to drop the large portcullis last night and had braced it with two thick pine logs. “A tank would struggle to make it through now,” he said. “I ‘m planning on building a palisade too. If we position them right, we can force the demons into a huddle and torch the bastards with fire. We’ll warm ourselves on their corpses.”

  Jackie grimaced. The healing slash on her cheek opened and closed like a ghoulish mouth. “Oh my.”

  Ted blushed. “Sorry! I’ve, um, lost a lot of my filters after spending so much time alone.”

  “It’s okay. I need to toughen up. I’m glad you’re here, Ted, unfiltered or not.” She put a hand on his arm. The touch filled him with guilt, but he endured it. Part of him stirred at the human contact, but he fought it away. Jackie may have sensed his conflict because she pulled her hand away from his arm. “Hannah told me how the two of you met,” she said. “That you were driving on your own. For how long?”

  Ted turned his back to check the food supplies on the shelves. He started with the crab apples collected from the forest floor. “I lost track,” he muttered. “More than a month, less than two. I started out from Colchester.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  He scooped the crab apples together into a pile and moved on to counting bundles of dried fish. “Because I had no reason to stay.”

  “Hannah said you were travelling north. How far north?”

  “As far as north goes.”

  “Why?”

  He stopped counting and leant his weight against the racking. The furious imp that lived inside him was begging to get out. “Because I made a promise I intend to keep.”

  “A promise to whom?”

  He wanted to turn and yell in her face, to shove her away and tell her to mind her own fucking business. “A promise to my daughter.”

  Jackie gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

  He turned to look at her, glad the tears remained behind his eyes and not on his hairy cheeks. “It’s okay.” He wondered if he might implode by continuing to speak. The memories he tried so hard to suppress were now right at the surface. “We’ve all lost people, Jackie. Did you… did you have any children of your own?”

  Jackie smiled, which wasn’t the expression he’d expected. “I have a son somewhere. All grown up. A fire fighter.”

  “You believe he’s alive?”

  “I do.” She smiled again, and the pride showed in her eyes. “He’s out there somewhere, helping people, being brave. I know it.”

  Ted
returned her smile, unable not to feel at least some of her hope. It radiated off her, and in the presence of that emotion, Ted did something that surprised him—he took the photograph of his daughter out of his pocket and handed it to Jackie. A kindly stranger had taken it for Ted while he cuddled Chloe at the zoo. Chloe was beaming beside him while an Emu stuck its head into the space between them.

  “Chloe was only eight,” Ted explained, watching Jackie while she took in the sight of the most precious thing in his life. The thing he’d let die. “I rescued her from her school across town when things went bad. Her mother and I had separated two years before, but I tried to get to her too. No matter where I looked though, I couldn’t find her. Eventually, it was too dangerous to keep trying, so I took Chloe and left with the men on my crew. Most of them had their families with them, and together we made a go of it for more than a month. We hid at a new housing site one of the lads knew about. The whole area was ringed with barbed-wire fencing, and several houses were nearly finished. It kept us safe for a while. Just for a while.”

  Jackie handed him back his photograph. “She’s beautiful, Ted. I’m so sorry.”

  Ted struggled to fight his tears. He felt them amassing beneath his eyes. “She was destined to do great things.” He looked at the picture for himself and smiled, trying not to let the image of Chloe’s smiling face destroy him. “Look, Jackie, I hate to share bad news, but we don’t have enough food.”

  “What?” She looked past him to the food arrayed on the shelves. “We have plenty.”

  He nodded. “For now, yeah, but fish and the occasional rabbit ain’t gunna cut it, luv. The kids need vegetables, fruit… stuff beside meat and fish.”

  “We have apples.”

  “Crab apples. And we’ve only found one tree. If you want to make a go of things here, you need to plant food, crops, or whatever. Fishing and hunting are too unreliable, and impossible if you’re ever put under siege. I think I need to leave the forest and try to find a garden centre. I’ll search for seeds—tomato plants, mint, lettuce, that kind of thing. I’m not green-fingered in the slightest, but it won’t be too hard a job to grab whatever I see.”