Tony took a seat on the other side of the desk. He began fidgeting, which annoyed him. The world had ended, and so had his contract of employment. He took orders from this man because he chose to, not because he had to. Yet, a general was still a general. “You wanted to see me, sir? How can I be of service?”
General Thomas pulled a pipe and tobacco from the desk draw. “Do you partake?”
“No thank you, sir.”
“Do you mind if I do?”
“No.”
“Good.” He started to fill the pipe, but kept his eyes on Tony while he did it. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” Tony shuffled in his seat, straightened up, and offered his full attention. The general began. “Major Harvey is taking over operations in the desert. As of tomorrow, he will be General Harvey.”
“Oh, that’s excellent news, sir. Major Harvey is a good man.” And a pompous prick.
“Indeed, indeed. That probably leaves you wondering what is going to happen to me, and why I have asked you here?”
“Well… yes, sir.”
“Major Harvey isn’t the only one getting a promotion. You’re a good man, Captain Cross. In fact, you’ve done more good on the ground than anyone. The men speak highly of you, and your troops are the most lethal we have. Closing that first gate in Syria could even be described as the turning point of this entire resistance movement.”
“Oh, well, thank you, sir. I’m just glad we managed to turn the tide here.”
“Indeed, and turn the tide we have. Iraq is a brick wall that the enemy will struggle to climb, leaving all those behind it safe to fight on.”
“And we’ll reclaim Iran soon enough, sir, I’m sure of it.”
There was a pause while the general took a drag on the end of his pipe. Once he’d breathed out the smoke, he shifted awkwardly. “Yes, well, that will indeed become a priority at some point, certainly. It’s not the main focus right now, however.”
Tony frowned. They had the enemy retreating. If they stopped pushing now they would lose momentum. Nothing makes men fight harder than recent victories. “I’m not sure I follow, sir.”
“You and I are leaving this blasted desert. The human forces have the resources they need to secure the region, but there’s little to be gained by pushing further into Iran. The Americans will remain and keep the line, but the rest of us are falling back to help liberate our own countries. We don’t need to reclaim a bunch of desert. We need to win back our homes. Berlin, Paris, Madrid. London. There’s no point defending the Middle East while our own interests fall to ruin.”
“Our… own interests, sir? Surely our only interests are to survive as a species?”
The general grunted as if he didn’t like what he was hearing. “The bigger picture has been secured. Here, at least. It’s time to look within. Along with our forces still in Turkey, we are one of the largest remaining populations left on Earth. We have thirty-thousand armed men and women. How many people back home could we save with that number? Our countrymen need us. Britain needs us.”
Tony nodded. He understood the sentiment, and would once have agreed. Yet, nations didn’t seem to mean what they used to. He had the last months fighting alongside men and women from every nation on Earth. It had been a while since he’d thought of himself as ‘British’. There was also something else to factor in. “Isn’t there a force already liberating the UK?”
General Thomas took another drag on his pipe, and then blew the smoke into the air. “Yes, yes. General Wickstaff—self-appointed—has led a jolly good counter attack out of Portsmouth, but the lass can only do so much. We, however, can bring home ships, planes, helicopters, bombs, and, most importantly, manpower. We need to get home before the poor lass loses the gains she’s made.”
“With respect, sir, from what I’ve heard, General Wickstaff is an extremely capable leader.”
“Yes, she’s quite the marvel, but nonetheless, she has only made inroads. We need to get back and turn her counter-attack into a full blown offensive. Our home is an island, and there’s a real chance we can rid the enemy completely. Once we have secured the British Isles, we will put our might behind the Americans. The United States are in dire straits by all account, and it will take a combined endeavour to get it under control. You shall be my second-in-command during our initial efforts at home.”
Tony blanched. Second-in-command? What the hell was happening? A few months ago, he’d been an NCO. Now, he was being asked to serve directly beneath the general in charge of one of the largest armies left on the planet. “I don’t know what to say, sir.”
“You don’t have to say anything, it’s not a request. As much as I would love a pool of officers to choose from, I do not have them, so I must promote from within. You are a capable man, Captain Cross, respected by our troops and civilians alike. Our forces will be reluctant to leave this front, but they will gladly follow you home, I am sure of it.”
Once again, Tony bristled at the man’s authoritative tone. Tony could stick up his fingers and disappear into the desert if he felt like it, and probably take a thousand men with him. But much of what the general had said was true. The Middle Eastern front was secure. It might progress no further, for now, but nor was it in any danger of being pushed back. “Okay, sir. When do we move?”
“Three days. We hope to reach Portsmouth within three weeks. The Navy is assembled and waiting off the coast of Lebanon. We shall board there with everything we have and set sail home. By this time next year, we’ll be Morris Dancing on the common.”
“I’d rather be drinking a pint down the pub.”
The general barked with laughter. “Yes! Quite. Okay, Major Cross, you’re dismissed. Report back here at 0800 tomorrow and we shall discuss the logistics. I will attempt to get Major Wickstaff on the wire, too, so we can tell her the good news.”
Tony cleared his throat. “That sounds good, sir. Could I ask something? What will General Wickstaff’s role be once we arrive in Portsmouth?”
General Thomas frowned as if he didn’t understand the question. “To continue to lead of course. She will operate as Colonel while you remain a Major at her disposal.”
“But she’s a general right now. You plan to demote her?”
“The woman appointed herself General. Colonel is still higher than her previous station. Do you have a problem with the proposed command structure, Captain, because I can get another junior office in here hungry for a promotion.”
“No, sir, it’s just… What if General Wickstaff refuses the demotion. She might claim equal authority to yourself.”
The general sneered, not at Tony but at the thought. “If she behaves insubordinately, I’ll have the woman tossed before a Court Martial. Anything else?”
Tony stood up and saluted. “No, sir. Of course, sir, a Court Martial, sir. I shall report back tomorrow as requested.”
General Thomas waved a hand dismissively, so Tony exited the tent. As he marched across the tarmac he began shaking his head. Court Martial? What bloody Court Martial?
There was going to be another war, and this time it wouldn’t involve demons.
58
DAMIEN BANKS
Damien looked out from the rooftop of the police station and steadied his nerves. This recent battle had been a tough one, and many of his allies had fallen. Nancy, the leader of the Hoosier Defence Force, stood beside him, studying the patchwork of dead demons and human corpses littering the courtyard below.
“They know we’re here,” said Nancy. “They won’t stop coming.”
Damien nodded. The woman was right. He didn’t know who she had been in her previous life, but she was hardened by war and smart as a tack. “This last force was bigger than the others. The demons are reorganising, refocusing. Humanity isn’t scattered throughout the planet anymore—it’s groups like ours—and the way to wipe us out finally is to come at us in force.”
Nancy placed down her AR-15 against the wall and leant over the safety pole, almost like she w
as in two minds about throwing herself over onto the tarmac. All at once she looked tired. “We can’t survive many more attacks like this one. Every fight makes us weaker.”
“Then we need to get stronger.”
“How? Damien, you still haven’t told me how exactly you came through a rip in reality two months ago. The men think you’re a demon, one of them.”
He huffed. “You know I’m not.”
She sighed and seemed to think about it, which upset him. His hurt-pride was apparently obvious because she moved up against him, putting her warm body against his. “I’ve seen you kill enough demons to know you’re on our side, but I also know you’re not like the rest of us.” She kissed his lips. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”
He kissed her back. Nancy was a good fifteen years older than he was, but she was attractive, and made slender by the constant battles. As he pulled away, he sighed. “I wish I knew what I am, but my powers never came with an instruction manual. The only thing I do know is that I’m stronger when Harry and Steph are with me, which is why I asked them to meet me up here.”
She stepped back. “You’re planning something.”
He stared down at the dead men and women who had been alive just hours earlier. “I am.”
Harry and Stephanie arrived a short while later on the roof. Damien spent the wait cuddling Nancy, and enjoying the peace of being human and doing human things. The moments between attacks seemed to grow shorter and shorter.
The Hoosiers had already been holding their own when Damien, Harry, and Stephanie had arrived, but they had gathered more survivors and more supplies before settling at this police station. Up until a few weeks ago, it had seemed like they would make it. But the first demon attack on the police station had lead to several more.
“Damien, you wanted us here?” said Harry, smiling as he walked across the flat roof. The man had been holding up well during the weeks of constant fighting. He was a soldier by trade and past, and thus had found himself thrust into command where he was comfortable. Along with a US Marine Captain that was also part of their group, Harry was a leader amongst the fighting men.
Stephanie was with him, and visibly hurt, bleeding from a bandage around her wrist. “One of them bit me,” she explained. “Good thing they’re not zombies, huh.”
Damien moved towards her. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“She’s fine,” said Nancy testily. “A flesh wound. We’ve all had worse.”
Damien grunted at Nancy, wondering if it was jealousy he detected. Nothing had ever happened between him and Stephanie. “I need to tell you both something.”
Harry folded his arms. “Okay, what?”
“The three of us are special. We can… do things.”
Stephanie chuckled. “You can do things. We just tag along for the ride.”
Damien shook his head. “No, I’m just aware of what I can do. You both have power as well. The three of us are totems.”
Harry gave a lopsided grin, which he knew was the man struggling not to take the piss. “What’s a totem when it’s at home?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but a stranger visited me and told me what I was right before I opened the gate and got us out of that bad situation. He told me that there are other worlds, and they are under attack too. The worlds are all woven together in a kind of tapestry. People like us can move around the different strands.”
Harry and Stephanie were both looking at each other like they were wondering whether or not to restrain Damien and take him to whatever counted as the loony bin nowadays. Surprisingly, the only one who seemed accepting of what he was saying was Nancy.
Damien was frustrated by his friend’s incredulity, so he continued trying to convince them. “You’ve both seen enough to forget what you think is true, and accept that there’s more. I’m telling you that we’re—”
“Magicians,” said Stephanie with a chuckle. “Okay, you’re right, Damien. I have seen enough to suspend my disbelief. So… what does it mean? What difference does it make?”
“That’s what I want to find out. I think… I think we should join hands.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” said Harry. “Are we going to sing?”
Stephanie elbowed him. “Nothing wrong with a bit of peace and love. Don’t you ever get sick of killing demons?”
“I never get sick of killing demons.”
“Do you need me to stay?” Nancy asked, looking uncomfortable and moving away from the wall.
Damien immediately told her to stay. “You’re the leader of the Hoosiers. The people here fight for you. Whatever happens, I want you to be involved.”
Nancy reddened in the cheeks. She nodded and then settled back on the wall. She had spoken little of herself to Damien, and he only knew from other that she had been married twice before. Once to a Coast Guard captain, and once to a man who had died when the demons arrived. She also had two children, lost forever in England. Her pain was often obvious.
Damien stepped forwards into the centre of the roof. Harry and Stephanie met him there, and the three of them joined hands.
“So how does this work?” asked Stephanie.
“Last time, I just thought really hard that we needed to escape.” Damien licked at his dry lips. “This time I’m going to think really hard that we need help.”
Harry and Stephanie nodded. Without being asked, they closed their eyes. It seemed like the obvious thing to do, so Damien did the same.
He gripped each of their hands tightly and strained his thoughts until his brain ached. Please send help. Whoever is out there, help us, please.
There was a moment where it seemed like nothing was happening, but he’d experienced that before. He kept on concentrating, and waiting.
Nancy’s voice piped up behind him. “Um, guys, I think you better open your eyes.”
Damien opened his eyes last because Harry and Stephanie were already staring over their shoulders when he looked at them. A gate had appeared on the rooftop, shimmering in the dusky twilight. They had done it.
“You sure that wasn’t all you?” Stephanie asked.
“I’m sure,” said Damien. “I’ve tried to open a gate on my own before and it never worked. For weeks, I’ve been trying. It hasn’t worked until now.”
“Okay,” said Harry. “We’ve opened another gate, but last time we needed one to escape. What’s the point of it this time?”
“We asked for help,” said Damien.
“Gates don’t bring help, Damien. They bring demons.”
As if insulted, the gate flickered and shimmered. A shadows formed in its centre, a figure wide and tall. Perhaps too tall to be human.
The thing that stepped out of the gate didn’t look like help at all, and when its back exploded into a massive span of jet-black wings, Damien was sure they had made a grave mistake. This thing could not be there to help humanity.
“W-Who are you?” Damien asked, terrified to his core.
The creature stood tall, seven-foot at least. Its wings continued unfurling, casting a deep shadow over them all. It was naked, but for a loin cloth, and obviously male.
Its swirling black eyes peered at Damien, seeming to search out his soul so that it could be devoured. It spoke in a bone rattling baritone. “I am The Defiler. Exalted of demonkind.” The creatures voice then rose towards a more human tone and a smile crossed its flawless face. “You may call me Sorrow.” Those huge black wings suddenly retracted, as if they had never even been there, and in the newly revealed space stood a short, teenaged girl. “This is my ward, Scarlet.”
The young girl grinned awkwardly and waved a hand. “Hi! We’re here to help.” She then bent slightly and clutched her midsection. “Urgh, do you have a toilet. I’m really bursting.”
Damien looked back at Nancy who seemed as lost as he was. So this was what help looked like?
Damien shrugged. I guess we’ll take it.
5. Resurgence
Strong people stand up fo
r themselves, but stronger people stand up for others.
— Unknown
Be careful when you cast out your demons that you don’t throw away the best of yourself.
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Oh look, carnage!
— Doug, Cooties (2014), Lionsgate Premiere
1
Aymun awoke on the ground, sweating, blankets kicked aside. The winter had been tough, sleeping in unheated houses and outside around dwindling campfires, but the ground had finally thawed and the sun had started making brief appearances. Last night had even approached warm, and Aymun had taken the blessing with a smile.
Waking amongst the twigs and brambles didn’t disconcert Aymun. He’d never lived a life of comfort or wealth, but over time he had come to enjoy the feeling of God’s earth against his back. Whether it be the shifting sands of back home or the leafy forests of England. Something, however, was wrong this morning. It wasn’t that a demon lay snoring three feet away from him. Or the fact that his tummy groaned from a lack of food. No, it was his missing companion that concerned him. Vamps never awoke first. He always needed stirring.
But this morning, Vamps had awoken and left their camp in silence. Or was it Crimolok – Red Lord and sibling to both Lucifer and Michael – who had left?
The archangel had found its way inside Vamps after a confrontation in Hell’s throne room. Such tales would once have been the domain of Aymun’s precious Quran, but in these times new chapters were being written out on blank pages. There was no way of knowing how mankind’s story would end, or even what would happen next. God had abandoned His children and monsters fought in His wake. Crimolok was the worst of them all, but he was trapped inside Vamps’ body.
Aymun reached out and shook the snoring demon to his left. “David? David, wake up.”
The demon bolted upright, as he often did when woken. The small creature was a bag of nerves. “I am David!”
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 112
