Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6

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Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 97

by Wright, Iain Rob


  “You can’t go out there, Ted. You need to stay here.”

  “Who else is gunna go?”

  “I don’t know. Just not you. We need you here. You’re getting so much done. The children have come out of their shells with you around. They see you as this mighty guardian from the forest, come to save them.”

  Ted chuckled. “They just enjoy having something to do. Put the kids to work and they don’t have time to worry.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, you need to stay here, Ted. You’re too important.”

  “Then who?”

  “I’ll go,” said Hannah, startling them both by coming up behind them. Steven was by her side with a small pile of dried fish to add to the stockpile. He kept quiet while Hannah spoke. “I love this place too much to see it fail,” she said. “If we need supplies, I’ll go get them.”

  “Are you sure?” Jackie didn’t sound as though she intended to argue. “Your hands?”

  Hannah linked her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. “My hands have been fine for days, and I can survive out there better than anyone. I’ll find what we need. We need medicine too. I just heard from Philip that Emily died this morning.”

  Steven groaned at that. He was a quiet man, always in the background, but he worked constantly to provide them food and was often amongst the children playing nanny. Ted liked the man from the little he knew of him, and it was painful to see him so devastated. “She was a sweet girl,” he muttered.

  Hannah nodded. “Yeah, she was.”

  Steven handed Ted the dried fish. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing at his glistening eyes. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Hannah patted the man on the back as he departed, then gave Ted a hard stare. “I won’t let another child die because of lack of medicine. I’ll go and get what we need.”

  “I’m coming with you,” said Ted. “You can’t take the risk all by yourself.”

  “No, Ted! Jackie’s right. The changes you’ve made these last two weeks… Everyone will be rudderless if you leave.”

  “We’ll make you a list, Hannah,” said Jackie. “And if things get too dangerous, you come right back to us, you hear? You’re too valuable to lose.”

  Hannah appeared touched by that, and she snapped off a playful salute. “Understood. It will be a good opportunity to scout the area for threats. I’d rather know where the trouble is before it finds us.”

  Ted nodded. Someone needed to go out, and Hannah was the obvious choice. She moved through the wilderness like a silk-slippered ocelot, and she could kill a dozen demons with her rifle before having to make a run for it. While Ted wasn’t afraid to go, he knew he was a lumbering bull. He looked at Jackie. “Could I have a minute alone with Hannah, please?”

  “Oh, um, yes, of course. I’ll, um, go start on that list.” She gave Hannah an affectionate smile and trotted out of the room and into the Great Hall.

  Hannah studied Ted expectantly. “What’s up, boss?”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “Sorry. What’s up, Teddy?”

  “Don’t call me that either! Look, are you sure you want to go out there? Two weeks ago, you were desperate never to be alone again. Why do you want to leave suddenly?”

  “I don’t want to leave, Ted. I want to be of use. You have the whole master builder thing going on, and Kamiyo is a doctor. Steven’s a butcher. Frank is… well, Frank is Frank, but this is how I can help. This place needs to survive, and unfortunately, I’m the soldier in the group. It kinda feels like my gig.”

  “You’ll be on your own again.”

  She nodded. “But now I know I’ve got people to get back to. It’s different.”

  “I suppose it is.” He reached out and touched her shoulder. “You make sure you do come back.”

  She gasped. “Ted, are you showing concern for me? What happened? Are you ill? It’s hemorroides, isn’t it?” She put on a fake crying face. “You never think it will happen to someone you love.”

  Ted shrugged her away with a grumble. “Get outta it, you daft mare.”

  She chuckled with glee, but then grew serious. “I’ll be back, Ted, I promise. And when I return, this place better be a god-damn fortress.”

  “Then you better come back with enough supplies to feed a nation.”

  Hannah put out her hand. “Deal.”

  With the slightest of smiles, Ted shook his friend’s hand.

  26

  HANNAH

  Hannah waited until the following morning to depart, and it left her time to ruminate on the undertaking. As a result, she had slept little, but her anxiety was enough to leave her buzzing with energy. It was just past dawn, and the sun remained hidden behind dark clouds—a bad omen.

  Kamiyo approached her in front of the castle’s portcullis. He handed her a list. “I’m not expecting miracles,” he said, “but any of the items on this list will really help. Failing that, grab anything you can find.”

  Hannah scanned the list and looked up. “Okay, Doc, got it.”

  “I should go with you,” he said. “There are hundreds of medicines, and I’m the only one who can identify what most of them do.”

  She hefted the large rucksack on her back and smirked. “I see a pharmacy and it’s all coming back with me. You can sort the wart medicine from the antibiotics afterwards. These kids can’t be without their doctor.”

  He nodded but didn’t seem happy about it. “You bring back antibiotics and you’ll be saving lives.”

  “I know. That’s why I’ll get what we need. I promise.”

  “Don’t promise. Just come back.”

  Ted came to see her next, looking even grumpier than usual. “I passed a small village before I stopped to fight those demons,” he told her. “If you come across my truck, head down the road behind it, and you might find something. Also, look in the back of my flatbed. There’s something in the lock box you can have. Combination: 2-0-0-6.” He grunted and walked away, leaving her to memorise the number.

  Frank appeared and surprised her by handing her a sword. She had to blink and do a double-take. “I nabbed this for meself early on,” he told her with a smug grin on his face. “It’s 16th Century. Set above the mantle in the Great Hall, it was. Maybe it was owned by a lord. Or a king.”

  Hannah patted her rifle. “I have this, Frank. You keep your sword.”

  He thrust it at her pommel first. “Take it. Guns have a nasty way of running out of bullets.”

  “Rifle,” she said.

  Frank frowned. “What’s that now, kidda?”

  Hannah took the sword and sighed. “Thank you, Frank.”

  Jackie was standing with Philip in front of the portcullis while Eric and Steven occupied the small winch-room above. “Thank you again for doing this, Hannah,” said Jackie. “None of us are ignorant to the danger you’re putting yourself in.”

  Hannah shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I was out there on my own for weeks.”

  Jackie hugged her. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, um, you’re welcome.” She turned and gave everyone a wave, tussled the hair of the youngest children, and then took a deep breath to steel herself. Her tummy turned somersaults as she peered towards the tree line at the bottom of the hill. Usually, when she went out on a mission, she was focused and determined, the perfect version of herself. It was how she imagined maestro piano players must have felt when they played Beethoven—it was what they were built for. Today though, she felt nervous and unsure. Afraid. Like stepping towards the edge of a cliff with black, rushing waters below.

  She waited for the portcullis to rise and ducked beneath it. Everyone shouted good luck to her, but she didn’t look back. It was like saying goodbye to family, best done quickly. Two weeks, and they already felt like family.

  And she was their provider.

  Still not looking back, she descended the hill and passed the lower guard house still absent its portcullis. The first two rows of trees had been felled, leaving behind a minefield of stumps. Bey
ond that, the forest grew thick rapidly, and it swallowed her up in seconds. She looked towards the castle but could no longer see it.

  She was alone again.

  But no longer homeless.

  A compass attached to her belt would ensure she kept a straight line out of the forest, and she would mark her exit, so she knew where to enter again later. Last thing she needed was to lose her way home. It felt good to need a compass.

  Despite keeping to a straight line, in a direction she assumed would lead her to the road, an hour passed by without the forest ending. Her empty rucksack swayed on her back and holding both a rifle and sword was difficult. Despite those burdens, she felt good. Energised. She moved through the undergrowth swiftly, in tune with her surroundings. That determined focus came back to her, and she thrived. Her anxiety and fears melted away. She was a huntress.

  She’d never seen true combat in the Army, having joined at the tail end of the Middle-Eastern hostilities. Iraq and Afghanistan were winding down and only a token force remained in either country. She’d been to Belize, Germany, and Canada, but only on training exercises. When the demons invaded, she’d been forced to put her training straight to the test. It had surprised her how well she’d taken to killing. How little it bothered her.

  Could she kill a human the same way she so readily killed demons?

  It would be a lie if she claimed her lack of remorse didn’t worry her. It did. Like Ted, something took over her in battle that she wasn’t in control of, but it wasn’t the same maddened fury that set Ted on the warpath like an enraged bull. No, it was something more akin to a tiger stalking its prey, a singular focus on making the thing in front of her dead. She didn’t know where that part of herself came from, or where it ended exactly, but she knew it was a significant piece of her core. Hannah had an innate talent for murder.

  That innate part of herself spoke up now, whispering to her. Warning her.

  Leaves crunched.

  Something was near.

  Hannah crouched in a tangle of weeds, allowing her muddy combat fatigues to blend into the foliage. Twenty-metres ahead, the forest shuddered as twigs snapped and branches swayed. She raised her rifle and closed one eye. Her heart beat hard in her chest, keeping time and breaking down every second for her appraisal.

  The movement got closer. Something dark flashed through the gaps in the trees. Time passed in slow motion. Hannah drew into herself, viewing the world only through the scope of her rifle.

  A bush burst apart, and a bounding shape leapt into view.

  Followed by several others.

  Hannah didn’t pull the trigger. She didn’t pull the trigger because she didn’t want to kill a pack of hungry dogs. Instead, she stood up and put her hands out. “Hey! Hey boy! It’s okay.”

  The leader of the pack was some kind of leggy mongrel, black and brown. The other dogs were smaller breeds, two cocker spaniels and a Staffordshire bull terrier, each of them lithe and bony, yet not emaciated. They looked like their wild ancestors.

  The pack leader growled, yellowing teeth unsheathed. Behind it, the other dogs followed suit and did the same. Hannah was still in no mind to shoot a bunch of dogs, and if she could shoo them off, she would. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just… stay calm.”

  The mongrel snarled and took a step closer, lowering its head. The black and brown fur on its neck ruffled. Hannah held her hand out farther, close to its snout. She continued making soothing sounds and saying words the animal might once have known. Words like “good boy” and “heel.”

  “Are you hungry, huh? Okay, let’s see what I have here.” She un-shouldered her rucksack and dropped it on the ground. She put down her sword and unzipped it, searching for some dried fish.

  The snarling mongrel pounced. Hannah reacted just in time to keep its jaws from snatching at her face, but the impact of its bony shoulders knocked her backwards. Instinctively, she kicked out her legs and kept it from mounting her, so its sharp jaws clamped around her ankle instead. Burning hot spikes pierced her flesh. She cried out, then stifled herself to keep from attracting more attention, or stoking the prey drive of the other animals. The mongrel thrashed and growled—her ankle rolling in its jaws. Her tender bones might snap at any moment, but she couldn’t pull herself free.

  The other three dogs closed in, too timid to attack yet, but it was only a matter of time before they worked up the courage. Hunger was a fierce motivator. Even for the weak.

  Hannah scrabbled around in the mud, trying to keep from being rolled over onto her belly. Her rifle was strapped to her shoulder, but the way she’d fallen had trapped it beneath her. She tried to pull it around and get a shot off, but the strap was too tangled.

  Then she saw the sword.

  It glinted in a shaft of sunlight spilling through the trees. She reached it with her fingertips. “Thank yow, Frank!”

  The mongrel yanked at her ankle, trying to tear it off. A wave of sickness spread through her and she gagged. As the mongrel pulled her along the ground, she lost her grip on the sword. She kicked her free-leg into the ground to shift herself back towards the sword. Inch-by-inch, her fingers curled around the sword’s handle.

  One of the other dogs leapt into view—one of the cocker spaniels—overgrown and matted. It bit down on her outstretched hand just as she was about to retrieve the sword. It dug its front paws into the mud and shook her. More pain flared through Hannah’s body. She was going to die here, an hour’s walk from camp. And not at the hands of any demon, but a pack of stray dogs. She wasn’t the warrior she thought she was, and the people at the castle would never know what had happened to her, or how awfully she’d failed them.

  No! No one else is dying on my watch. I need to complete my mission. This is what I trained for, and why I’ve been fighting to survive. This is my chance to make a difference.

  Despite it causing her even more agony, Hannah pulled her arm inwards, dragging the cocker spaniel. Its claws ploughed lines in the mud, dragging the sword underneath it. Hannah heaved with all her might, even as the dog chewed her arm like a squeaky toy. It snarled right over her face and could remove its jaws from her wrist at any moment to clamp down on her throat.

  Hannah acted fast. She lifted her head and bit down on one of the cocker spaniel’s floppy ears. She tasted matted fur, then greasy flesh. Finally, she felt gristle and veins give way to blood. It filled her mouth, viscous and metallic. The dog yowled, and she allowed it to pull away, opening her mouth and yanking her wrist free from its jaws—a trade of limbs. Her whole lower arm throbbed and burned, but she flexed her hand and found it moving. She threw out her arm and finally retrieved the sword, lifting it towards the sun and praying she didn’t drop it pommel first onto her face.

  She brought the blade down on top of the mongrel’s thick skull.

  There was a loud clonk, as the blunt sword acted more like a bludgeon than a blade, yet it was enough to stun the animal into releasing her ankle. It reared up and shook its head.

  Hannah struck like lightning, sitting up and thrusting the sword out in front of her. The sharp point pierced the mongrel’s chest easily. It yelped, but the thrust must have struck its heart because it fell down dead with no further fuss.

  The wounded cocker spaniel leapt again but retreated when it realised its pack leader was dead. It backed away, eyes wide, then turned and bolted back into the bushes. Its less courageous pack mates hurried to join it.

  Hopefully, they wouldn’t wander anywhere near the camp and the children.

  Hannah rolled onto her side and freed her rifle, then pointed it at the bushes, ready to fire if the mutts came back for another round. Her compassion for their plight had evaporated, but at least she had felt compassion to start with. She wasn’t a monster. After a while, she decided she was in the clear. Just as well, she couldn’t afford to bury her little remaining ammunition into someone’s former pets.

  As her heart rate lowered, and the adrenaline left her system, it lumbered her with a great deal of pain
. Her ankle was a mess, not broken, but ripped wide open. Her wrist wasn’t as bloody, but it felt sprained. She needed to get back to camp so Dr Kamiyo could patch her up.

  But what if she ended up like Emily? The wounds on her ankle might already have been infected by the mongrel’s bacteria-laced jaws. She might be dead in a week if her wounds turned like Emily’s had.

  Can’t think about that now. Focus on what I can control. Find medicine and infection won’t be an issue.

  Biting her lip, Hannah crawled over to an old oak tree and used it to climb to her feet. She tested her ankle and found that, while it hurt terribly, she could just about walk on it. She tried a few tentative steps, and bit down hard on her lip. It was gut-wrenchingly painful, but her focus and determination were enough to get her moving again.

  She headed for the road.

  27

  HANNAH

  Hannah discovered the overgrown access road cutting through the forest. When she and Ted had first entered the forest two weeks ago, they’d been trying to evade the demons and hadn’t stuck to the designated route. Now the path was a godsend, showing her precisely how to get back to the road. With her sword now threaded through a hole she’d made in the top of her rucksack, walking got a little easier, and before long she was back at the coach, reminiscing about the last time she’d been there.

  Ted’s bag full of soft drinks still rested on the ground where he’d dropped them. She grabbed herself an orangeade and swigged the whole thing down in one go, not having realised how thirsty she was. Next, she limped over to the coach, and for a few minutes she took a breather on the bottom step, enjoying the peace and quiet. There was no sign of any demons, which was beyond a relief.

 

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