Sorrow stared at Angela in silence, his black wings continuing to ruffle. Eventually he nodded slowly, as if confirming something to himself. “June 2007, you drank an entire bottle of whiskey and got in your car to buy more. When you backed up, you killed your neighbour’s cat. You never admitted to your crime, even as they wept on your doorstep. August 2008, you defiled your grandfather’s gravestone after drinking cider in a graveyard.”
“He was a dickhead.”
Sorrow didn’t acknowledge her and continued with his list. “March 1997, you wrote Geri Halliwell a highly sexualised email suggesting she was by far the most talented Spice Girl and that she should go solo. She later followed your advice, which did not pan out well for her or anybody else. Later, you–”
Angela threw up a hand. “Okay, okay, I get it. I wrote my own ticket. Please stop.”
Sorrow nodded. “As you wish, gay priest.”
Ted had intended to stay silent, but he couldn’t help himself now. He wanted to go back a few steps. “Sorrow, were you trying to tell us Lucifer is a good guy?”
“Lucifer loves humanity. He has walked among you since the days of Jesus, who showed him the error of his ways. At first, I sensed him here in this place, but now he is gone. Where, I do not know. I miss his presence. It is like the disappearing of the sun.”
Tosco opened his mouth, and it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything nice, but Damien got in first. “It sucks to lose people, Sorrow, but I’m glad you’re here with us now.”
Sorrow stared at Damien for several seconds, almost like he didn’t understand the words that had been spoken to him. Then he moved away, swiping off the head of a demon when it got up off the ground and leapt at him.
Tosco curled his upper lip. “It’s stupid keeping that thing around. It’s a demon. It’s one of them.”
“They’re not all bad,” said Angela. “There was this one who used to whip me on Tuesdays that told the dirtiest jokes. Hey, what do you get when you cross a baboon with a journalist?”
“I don’t care,” said Tosco. “I’m just saying it’s stupid to trust a demon.”
Ted surprised himself by speaking in Sorrow’s defence. “He fought amongst us today when the demons came. He was one of us.”
Tosco sighed, clearly unconvinced.
“It’s just a shock,” said Maddy, “but it was a demon who came to Portsmouth to tell us about some of our people being in danger. Angela’s right, they’re not all bad.”
“I suppose they’re just like people,” said Damien. “The weak get manipulated by those in power.”
“Lord Amon,” said Ted, “was a fallen angel that came out of the lake, and he’s out there somewhere, controlling the demons. We need to be ready. This won’t be the last time we have to defend ourselves.”
“We’ll get started on more arrows,” said Damien. “This battle used up a big part of our ammo. There’s still some left in the crates, but it’ll go fast.”
“My ship has a supply,” said Tosco, “but again, it won’t last forever. I’ll bring them back when I take Nancy to her daughter.”
Ted shook his head. “You can’t go. It would be stupid now that we’re under attack.”
“I don’t think I have a choice.” Tosco turned and pointed up at the wooden firing platform above the stone walls. Nancy stood there amongst the spectators. There were tears in her eyes, but also determination.
“There are only a couple of things that scare me,” said Damien, “and Nancy’s one of them. If I were you, Ted, I’d let her go.”
“It’s suicide.”
“I hate to say it,” said Tosco, “but it might be necessary. If you want the men and supplies from The Hatchet, I need to go get them. Give us all the vehicles you can spare and I’ll set off immediately. This is probably only the first wave – sent to test our defences – which means we might get a short reprieve before more come.”
Ted didn’t like it, but the truth was he didn’t have the right to tell any of these people what to do. If Nancy wanted to risk her life reuniting with her daughter, then that was her decision. Maybe he didn’t even blame her. “Okay,” he said, slamming his sledgehammer into the skull of a half-alive demon. “You can all leave, but I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to find your way back inside. In case you didn’t notice, we’re at war.”
A demon leapt up off the ground and raced towards the group. Angela stepped in its path and raised a hand. She mumbled something incomprehensible and the demon exploded.
Ted wiped blood from his face and gawped. “W-What the hell did you just do?”
Angela had blood all over her too, but she seemed amused as she gave a shrug. “That’s what you might call a pro-vicar move.”
Sorrow flapped his wings, shedding chunks of demon meat. “This pleases me.”
Ted nodded. “Yeah, it pleases me too.”
Tony regretted his decision more with every step. He’d placed his life in the hands of men who had already tried to kill him. If Thomas put them under the slightest of pressure, they would betray him again – there was no doubt. Once Thomas knew Mass was still alive, he would put a bullet in Tony’s head. The only thing keeping Tony moving ever closer to his own end was the fact that he couldn’t do anything differently. As much as he regretted his foolish decision, he would regret executing nine unarmed men more. If this was his time to die, perhaps he could do so with a soul slightly less tarnished.
Maybe it’s enough to earn a little peace. If such a thing even exists.
Not wanting to encounter the demons on the road, Tony’s team had taken a sweeping curve through the countryside. One of the men had grown up locally and kept them from becoming lost as they skirted the odd village and highway-adjacent retail park. Eventually they found themselves only a handful of miles north-west of Portsmouth, but it didn’t make Tony feel any better. That demon horde was out there somewhere with a giant beast lashing them onward. Portsmouth wasn’t safe any more, and he pictured the city in flames. It might already be gone.
As it turned out, they never made it there, because Portsmouth came to them. Half the city had seemingly taken to the road on foot, fully armed and in good spirits. Tony heard chit-chat and singing, the odd gunshot, and the endless beating of boots on the ground. He even spotted horses.
One of Tony’s men spoke, a corporal named Dendoncker. “General Thomas is leading them from the front. What the fuck’s going on?”
Tony knew what was going on, because he knew the general. “Thomas is marching us to war.”
“But we’re safer at Portsmouth. They’re going to march right into the demon army we saw on the road.”
“Thomas doesn’t know about that. He thinks there’s nothing left out here but stragglers and weaklings. Damn it, the fool. He should’ve set up a forward base before moving everyone like this. He’s so arrogant, he expects to mow the enemy down without breaking a sweat.”
Dendoncker looked mortified, and he suddenly exposed himself for the young man he was. “W-We have to warn him.”
Tony nodded. “We will. Okay, men, double-time. Keep your weapons pointed at the ground and put a hand in the air. Let’s not get ourselves shot.”
A mile existed between them and the army, and if not for Tony’s group coming from higher ground, they might not have even spotted the large mass of men marching briskly along what must have been the M27. Vehicles clogged the road in places, but the hard shoulder and the central reservation offered room for manoeuvre where the road became blocked. When the demons had first invaded, even the oldest of bangers kept in lock-ups had returned to service as people sought safety. The punchline was that there hadn’t been any to get to.
As Tony led his men downwards through the fields, something occurred to him. As with most of the country’s major roadways, a border of trees and bushes sectioned off the traffic from the countryside. It meant that to reach Thomas’s army, Tony’s men would need to emerge from the trees and hedges. “Hold on,” he said, bringing everyone to a halt. “We
can’t pop out and surprise them. They need to know we’re coming. Okay, all of you wave your hands in the air. Jump up and down if you have to.”
Tony pointed his rifle at the clouds and pulled the trigger while his men hopped about.
The massive army on the road kept on marching. The odd gunshot was not enough to alert it. Tony pointed his rifle again and this time yanked the trigger five times, a second between each shot. The rhythmic shooting was not a normal sound of war, and it caused the front lines of the army to take a knee and search their surroundings. Eventually, men spotted Tony’s group up on the hill, and while their distant shouting was too far away to discern, at least they didn’t start firing their weapons.
“They’ve clocked us,” said Tony. “Let’s move, but keep your hands in the air.”
The men moved at a slow walk, their equipment rattling free at their sides. A part of Thomas’s army broke away – a meeting party. Tony met them in the lower half of the field and they knew right away who he was. “Colonel Cross! Good to see you. General Thomas is nearby. I’ll take you to him.”
“Thank you. My men have been out in the field for several days. Do you have any water?”
“Of course!” The small meeting party handed over their canteens and Tony’s men drank thirstily. Then they got moving again, covering the final ground between them and the army.
General Thomas was visibly surprised to see Tony, which confirmed his suspicions that his superior had not expected him to return. “Colonel Cross, what a relief to see you. How was the mission? I don’t see Sergeant Pearson with you.”
Tony glanced briefly at his men. Each appeared anxious, and he could only imagine what was going through their minds. Clearing his throat, Tony offered the lie. “We were met with hostility. Sergeant Pearson and two other men didn’t make it.”
Thomas’s grey eyes narrowed. “And what about Mass and his unit?”
“Confirmed dead. They were already in a bad way when we found them. They didn’t present a challenge after the initial exchange.”
Thomas looked past Tony to one of his men. “You, what is your name?”
The soldier flinched as if slapped. “Me, sir?”
“Yes, you!”
“Corporal Dendoncker, sir.”
“What kind of name is that?”
The soldier shifted awkwardly. “My grandfather came from Belgium, sir.”
“Well, Belgium no longer exists, so perhaps the name will die with you. You served with Pearson overseas, didn’t you? You’re quite the soldier, if I recall his words.”
Tony noticed Dendoncker had his fists clenched. Was it Thomas or Tony he wanted to punch? How close had he been to the now-dead Pearson? “I served with Pearson in the Fusiliers, sir, then again in the war against the demons. All told, I’ve known him a good five years.”
“He was a good man, yes?”
“A fine soldier, sir. Yes, sir.”
Tony’s breath caught in his throat, and he tried not to reveal his anxiety. If he made a run for it, he might be able to bolt into the trees and escape, but that wasn’t how he wanted to end things. That wasn’t the way he wanted to be remembered.
Remembered by whom?
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Thomas told Dendoncker. “How did Pearson die, if it’s not too painful to ask?”
Tony bit down on his lip. He thought about lifting his rifle and trying to take off Thomas’s head before the men gunned him down. At least his death would mean something.
Dendoncker let his head drop, staring at the ground. “He was shot, sir.”
Thomas nodded. “By whom?”
Dendoncker looked up at Tony and then back at Thomas. “By one of the men we were attempting to neutralise. Like Colonel Cross said, they weren’t happy to see us.”
Thomas glanced over at the other men, probably to check if any of them objected to that version of events. None of them did, and it caused the general to snort through his nose. “Very well. Colonel Cross, I expect you and your team to remain close by. I value your input in matters of warfare. Have you met Colonel Livingstone? He’s the acting chief of our ground forces, answering directly to me.”
Tony had to stop himself from groaning as the leathery-skinned, grey-eyed sadist appeared from a group of nearby men. Tony had fought the demons in Turkey alongside Livingstone when he had been a mere captain and Tony a sergeant. While they hadn’t personally come to blows, Tony had witnessed him execute injured soldiers rather than get them to safety, and he had once seen him capture a badly burnt demon and tie it to a post in the middle of camp. His men had thrown rocks at it for days before it expired. Some men thrived in times of war – even enjoyed it – and Livingstone was one of them. Tony fought down his dismay and offered a handshake and a smile. He had expected to be shot, so this was at least a better situation than the one he’d anticipated. “Good to see you, Colonel Livingstone. Congratulations on the promotion.”
“And to you, Tony. Sergeant to colonel, that’s quite the monumental rise to power.”
“I like to think I earned it.”
Thomas nodded. “You did, Colonel Cross, and I hope you continue to conduct yourself in the same exemplary manner as you have done previously.”
“Of course, sir. That’s why I need to tell you to turn this army back, right now.”
Thomas spluttered. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? Do you not see what’s happening here? We’re about to take back our country. The enemy is licking its wounds and we must not give it the chance to recover.”
“You don’t understand, sir. We encountered a demon army on the road. It can’t be more than a few miles away from here, and it’s being led by a huge creature, bigger than anything else we’ve seen.”
Thomas was clearly surprised, but he rapidly shrugged it off. “The giant demons are no threat now that the gates have all closed. We can deal with it.”
“The gates haven’t all closed. A new one has opened. Mass and his team told us about a gate a hundred feet high.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow, his pupils seeming to flicker. “How exactly did Mass and his team tell you anything if you ended up shooting them?”
Shit, that was stupid. That was so stupid.
“Because it took a while for Mass to die,” said Tony, trying to sound confident, “and I made the best use of that time. It wasn’t pretty, but men prefer an easy death over a painful one. I wanted to make sure he didn’t have other men in the area. He was built like an ox, so there were plenty of body parts to work with. By the time he died, Mass was begging for his mother.”
“You piece of shit! You fucking piece of shit.”
Tony turned to see a young woman sprinting towards him. She was bright red in the cheeks and spitting fury. “D-Diane? What are you…?”
“You monster! You fucking killed Mass? How could you?”
Tony moved backwards, genuinely afraid of the rage heading right for him.
“Keep your voice down, young lady,” said Thomas, peering around at the many eavesdropping men who were now watching with interest. While it was mostly Thomas’s loyalists, there were plenty who worshipped Mass and the Urban Vampires. Hearing about his death would not be good for morale. “What are you doing here, Diane? You’re supposed to be at Portsmouth, uprooting traitors.”
Diane sneered. “Traitors? You want to talk about traitors? Why don’t we talk about how you murdered Wickstaff in cold blood?”
Thomas hissed. “Colonel Livingstone, please do something about this distraction.”
“With pleasure, sir.” Colonel Livingstone attempted to grab Diane, but Diane whipped out a handgun and shot him in the chest. There was total shock in his eyes. Before anyone could react, Diane spun around and placed her handgun against the side of Thomas’s head. It was enough to keep anyone from taking a shot at her. “I’m the one who’s been working behind your back, you arrogant prick,” she told Thomas. “You think people will just let you get away with whatever you want? You think this is all ab
out you? Portsmouth survived without you, and it will continue to survive when you’re dead. You’re nothing. There’s nothing special about you apart from the fact you murdered a woman who actually mattered.”
Thomas’s throat bulged and he didn’t dare blink, but despite his obvious fear, his words were defiant. “Somebody please deal with this lunatic. She’s lost her mind.”
Diane ground the handgun painfully against Thomas’s temple. “I’m thinking completely clearly. You might have taken everything from me, but at least I’ll get to watch you die. That’s good enough for me.”
“Diane, you are making a mistake.”
“You should’ve seen this coming.”
“I did see it coming, you foolish girl. Honourable young Tom might not have given you up, but every single one of his friends did. I’ve known all along who the ringleader working against me was. You’re an impressive young lady.”
Diane’s cold eyes widened. “If you knew, then why didn’t you—”
“I wanted to see who you spoke with. Colonel Wanstead is likely already dealing with anyone you’ve been confusing with your mad lies. Pity you left them to die just to pursue some childish revenge.”
“You don’t know anything, you piece of shit. If you did, you wouldn’t have a gun to your head.”
“I meant it when I said I was impressed. If I had had men half as sneaky as you in Iraq, we would have caught Saddam in a day. You can kill me, but it will change nothing. My people are in place. Wickstaff will still be dead.”
Diane readjusted her grip on her handgun. “I’m just an invisible little waif of a girl, right? Killing you would be more than enough to give me satisfaction.”
“So do it.”
Tony couldn’t stand this any longer. He peered down at Colonel Livingstone, lying on the ground with his chest blown open, and knew there was no way out of this for Diane. She was a warrior until the end, but something had happened during his absence and she couldn’t come back from it. “Diane, stop this. There’s an army of demons coming and we need to get these people back to Portsmouth.”
Diane spat at him. “You pig. I thought I could trust you. I thought you were a good man. All the times we spoke…”
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 152
