Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6

by Wright, Iain Rob

  Most of the terrified soldiers had realised that shooting Crimolok was of no use, but even against the demons they were doomed to fail. They didn’t have enough guns. Several hundred demons were amassed at the gate, having the same problem as the humans attempting to flee. If the gate had been wider, the courtyard would already be overrun.

  A few hundred men had made it through the turnstile housing by now, but the opportunity to rescue more was diminishing. The demons made it to the front lines and leapt upon the defenders. Rifles fired at the clouds as soldiers fell backwards, their throats torn open. Immediately the line was down, smashed to pieces by the sheer unrelenting weight of the charging demons. Men screamed, cursed, and choked on their own blood. Those near the turnstile housing turned and shoved each other in a desperate attempt to save themselves.

  Damien shoved Mass. “You need to go. Now!”

  “I’m not leaving these men to—”

  “They ain’t men, they’re supper, and unless you want to be dessert, you need to move.”

  Mass wasn’t having any of it. No way was he going to run and leave these men to die.

  Smithy and Addy grabbed Mass and yanked him away from the fighting. He fought them both, but then Damien reached out and grabbed him by the throat. His glare was icy cold. “Heroes die.”

  Mass tried to fight, but the hand around his neck was like a vice. His breath deserted him and a chill ran up and down his spine. Before he knew it, he was feeling sleepy. His body went weak, and he was only mildly aware of Damien still talking. “You two get him out of here. I’ll make some room.”

  Mass blinked and tried to see as Smithy and Addy dragged him towards the exit. Damien moved through the crowd like a hot knife, tossing people aside like they were made of twigs.

  Mass tried to struggle, his body barely responding. “We have to go back.”

  “They’re dead, Mass,” said Smithy, dragging him through the turnstile exit, “no matter what we do. We have to get you out of here, big guy.”

  They made it into the car park. Several hundred men had made it out, but most were unarmed. A dozen made a run for it, dashing towards the ruins in the city.

  There was a whistling sound, followed by a massive explosion as the first of the bombs Thomas had called in landed. It was impossible to know how many demons were trapped amongst the rubble, but a dozen fleeing soldiers were caught in the blast.

  “Damn it. I told those men to wait.” Thomas stood with his radio in hand. Two larger men were steadying him to keep him from falling. The last of the colour had abandoned the old man’s cheeks, and he had taken on the appearance of a corpse. He looked at Mass and said, “There are more bombs coming in.”

  “Good work, Thomas, but how the hell did you make it out here?”

  “My men dragged me. I told them to leave me, but…” His voice faded. He had to breathe for a second before getting it back. “I did my part, now you do yours.”

  Mass nodded. He had to get the men out of there. More were flowing from the exit every second, but from their hysterical screams it was clear the demons were killing almost everyone left inside. Crimolok had destroyed a massive section of the fort. The giant would come for them any second.

  Mass gathered his people. “The bus,” he said. “The bus is ready to go. We can’t take everyone, but we can get a hundred people out of here. Maybe more.”

  Smithy frowned. “What bus? The one over there?”

  “Yeah, it’s a getaway vehicle. I parked it there myself, months ago. It’ll run, I promise you. The keys are in the exhaust.”

  “I’m on it.” Smithy legged it towards the small row of parked vehicles. He rooted around at the back of the bus until he re-emerged jingling a set of keys in his hand.

  “Nice one,” said Addy. “Everyone, on the bus. Get on that goddamn bus.”

  The men scattered, but several stayed in place, protecting Thomas. “Leave me!” the old man shouted, but they refused.

  “We’re not leaving without you, sir,” said a man with captain’s stripes.

  “I’ll just slow you fools down.”

  The demons reached the turnstiles, clawing at one another to be the first to get at fresh meat. Forced to funnel through in pairs, the demons were easy pickings for the men with guns.

  “To the bus,” Mass shouted, and more followed. Others remained, carrying Thomas along, trying to get the old man moving despite him looking ready for the grave.

  Another missile fell, igniting another part of the ruins. Their path to freedom was waiting for them. They just had to get in the bus.

  Crimolok appeared from around the side of the fort, coming from the opposite side of the car park. The massive beast bent down and picked up a tiny Fiat, lofting it into the air like a pebble.

  Mass realised he was about to die and time seemed to slow. Some inner sense was able to calculate the Fiat’s trajectory as soon as it was airborne. It was heading right for him. He would never move out of the way in time. Neither would those around him.

  Damn it, we were so close.

  Mass wanted to close his eyes as the car tumbled end over end towards him. He didn’t want to watch his approaching death or anticipate the bone-crushing impact. But he couldn’t take his eyes off it. Mass laughed, a dizzying high washing over him. Then something knocked the Fiat aside in mid-air, sending it down the grassy embankment, where it cartwheeled before coming to a rest on its buckled roof.

  Mass blinked. He was unable to find words.

  “Once again I am forced to save your life. Can you please try to remain alive on your own?”

  Mass turned to see Rick. Or what was left of him. His body was twisted, ribs sticking out of his shirt. One of his arms hung on by a ragged thread of muscle. His left eye bulged like it was about to fall out of his skull.

  “Rick? You look like shit.”

  “My vessel has almost expired. It requires great willpower to keep it moving.”

  Mass tried not to stare at a length of intestine hanging from Rick’s waist like a belt. “Yeah, I can see that. Thanks for the save.”

  Rick threw an arm out towards the turnstiles and the whole thing exploded. The brickwork crumbled from above and filled in the gap. The demons would be forced to find another way around the fort. Not done yet, Rick stumbled towards the car park.

  Crimolok appeared from around the far side of the fort. It saw Rick and paused, an expression of pure hatred crossing its beautiful, monstrous face.

  Rick continued across the car park, heading towards Crimolok. His mangled form was more hideous than any of the demons, but no one shot at. They just watched.

  Rick showed no awareness of the spectators. He continued stumbling towards Crimolok until he was just twenty feet away. Then he threw up both hands, unleashing twin jets of bright white light. Both crackling beams struck Crimolok right in the face, right in the eyes. The massive beast stumbled backwards, bellowing in agony and shielding itself.

  Mass hurried to catch up with Rick. “You hurt it. Shit, man, you hurt it.”

  Rick turned back to Mass. “I am too weak to defeat my brother. I was foolish. Go, Mass. Take whoever you can find and run. As long as you live, Crimolok can never prevail.”

  “Are you coming with us?”

  Rick nodded. “I will do what I can to stay alive, to perhaps heal, but if I hinder you in any way, you must abandon me.”

  Mass nodded. He had already abandoned hundreds of souls today. What would one more matter?

  “Everyone, on the bus,” Mass shouted. “I won’t say it again. Those who can’t get inside can climb on the sodding roof. Just get yourselves on board.”

  “I can’t make it,” said Thomas from a few feet away. “This is where I plant my flag in the sand.”

  Thomas’s skin was like ash, and he could have been blown away in a strong wind, but his men still refused to leave him. “We’re not abandoning you, sir. We’ve served with you too long to let you die.”

  “Go, you fools. You need to liv
e.”

  Mass growled at the suicidal idiots. “He’s a goner. Let him die with some dignity.”

  The men ignored Mass, determined as they dragged Thomas along the car park. Crimolok stood at the far end, still half-blind and raging. How long before the beast recovered from Rick’s blast?

  “You’re going to get yourself killed,” said Mass, flabbergasted to see at least two dozen more men refusing to run for the bus without Thomas by their sides.

  “This is wasting time we don’t have,” said Rick. He limped towards Thomas, prompting the old man’s guards to pull their sidearms. He ignored them all and snatched at the old man’s skull, striking with both hands like the jaws of a viper. For a second, it looked like he was going crush Thomas’s head like a watermelon, but then he threw back his head and grunted in pain. White sparks shot from his eyes. Thomas’s entire body bucked as if receiving a massive jolt. No one fired a shot, too confused and too wary of hitting the wrong target.

  A few moments was all it took, but when Rick stepped away, Thomas was healed. The old man flexed his arms as if they were brand new. He examined his torso – now healed and pink with healthy flesh. “H-How did you?”

  Rick’s expression remained flat, but his words held a tinge of emotion. “That was the last of my strength. I can no longer heal this vessel and my time is short. Do what Mass is telling you or I shall take back my gift and allow you to expire.”

  Thomas seemed offended for a moment, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he waved an arm frantically, full of energy. “Everyone, on that bus, pronto. Double-time! Move-move-move!”

  The men scattered, leaving Mass alone with only a small group. Addy was shaking her head and chuckling to herself. “Strange days we live in, huh?”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” said Damien, appearing, once more, from nowhere.

  Mass grunted. “How the hell do you always seem to arrive just in time to make an unnecessary comment?”

  “It’s a gift. You heading back to the docks? I’ll meet you there.”

  “No,” said Addy. “Rick just said we need to run. We can’t win.”

  “We are running,” said Mass, looking back at Crimolok, who was now starting to recover from Rick’s attack. “We’re running back to defend our home. I don’t know how, but we’re going to kill that son of a bitch. Mankind is going to win this war.”

  Damien smiled. “Still gotta be a hero, huh?”

  “I’m just being me.”

  “I feel that.” Damien offered a handshake.

  In the distance, another bomb dropped.

  One of Thomas’s men offered to drive the bus, claiming to have experience of driving logistics trucks for the army. He certainly seemed to know his way around the oversized steering wheel and heavy gear stick.

  Before long, they were heading through the city, slowly trying to find a way through the debris. The bombs had cleared a way through the demons but left the roads in worse shape than ever. Mass could do nothing but trust that the stranger behind the wheel would get them where they were going.

  Thomas stood at the front of the bus, straight-backed and alert. As weak as the old man had been, he now seemed ten years younger. Mass knew the euphoria of having been miraculously healed, and he took pleasure knowing Thomas would soon feel like a tonne of bricks had landed on him. Conversely, Rick was a broken mess on the back seat of the bus. Addy had managed to clear a space there for him, which was an amazing accomplishment seeing as there were almost two hundred people packed inside and onto the bus. They hung out of windows and sat in each other’s laps, just grateful to be on board. Several dozen hadn’t made it, forced to make a run for it as the bus left without them. Mass was just glad his team of Vampires had all made it aboard, although they were now scattered throughout the seats.

  Mass shoved and cajoled his way to the rear of the bus. He wanted to speak with Rick while the man – the angel – was still with them. He gave no reaction to Mass’s approach.

  “Rick? How are you feeling?”

  “Ashamed.”

  “Ashamed, why?”

  Rick swallowed, his neck bulging unnaturally. “My own pride brought me here to face my brother, but it was not enough to defeat him. It took most of my strength to remain here in this body, but it is rapidly failing.”

  “You tried, man. That’s all any of us can do. Who are you, really? You ain’t Rick.”

  “Michael.”

  Mass was vaguely aware of angel names, but not enough to react in any particular way. He had just wanted to know who he was really talking to. “So what happened to the real Rick Bastion, Michael? You’re wearing his body, but where is his, um…”

  “His soul resides in Heaven. His sacrifices were great.”

  That was good news at least. Mass took a breath and asked another question. “What about Vamps? Is he in Heaven too?”

  “Yes.”

  Mass exhaled with relief. “Good. I’m glad.”

  “Do not be glad. Heaven shall soon fall. God’s barrier is weakened and he will soon fall under attack. Crimolok and those loyal to him will erase existence and reignite it in their own dark image.”

  “Michael, there has to be some way to stop Crimolok. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

  “There is nothing. He cannot be harmed by any mortal means. Only the power of Heaven can defeat him.”

  “What about the gate? What if we manage to destroy it?”

  Michael groaned and a trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth. “His power is not linked to the gate – it resides within the abyss – but if you close the final gate, you will succeed only in trapping Crimolok here on this Earth. He will no longer be able to make an assault on Heaven, but this world would most certainly be doomed. Is that a sacrifice you are willing to make?”

  “I would rather something be saved than everything be destroyed. Yes, I’m willing to destroy the gate if it means saving lives – even if it’s not our own.”

  Michael tried to smile, but it appeared as a bloody grimace. “Lucifer was right about humanity. It is worth saving.”

  Mass didn’t want to believe it was all over, but if they could stop Crimolok from attacking God and destroying the universe, then at least they could go down with a win. “I’ll go through the gate myself. As soon as we get these people back to the docks, I’ll head out and find it.”

  Michael blinked, but one of his eyes remained closed. “I’m sorry I was unable to help this world. You will all perish.”

  “I accepted that a long time ago, but I have to keep fighting. It’s who I am. It’s who my friends were.”

  Michael died. The subtle movement of his chest, the slight flickering of his eyelids, ceased. Mass didn’t know what he was supposed to do, so he just stood up and moved away into the packed aisle.

  The bus lurched. There was the chatter of gunfire as men fired from the bus’s upper floor and out of the windows. The tyres screeched and bodies were tossed one way and then another as the suspension bucked and tilted, but their driver had been true to his word; he handled the bus like a racing car.

  Smithy met Mass in the centre of the bus. “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s gone, but before he went, he told me what I need to do.”

  “What?”

  Mass didn’t want to tell him they were all going to die, at least not right there in a cramped bus doing forty through a backstreet during the apocalypse, so he patted his friend on the shoulder and told him not to worry. “We’ll talk later. I’m going to fuck up Crimolok’s plans.”

  Smithy grinned. “Sounds good to me. Hey, can you believe Thomas? I know Rick healed you too, but it took longer. Thomas is like a new man. Makes you wonder what the comedown’s gonna be like.”

  Mass peered through the bodies in the aisle and caught a glimpse of Thomas, still standing at the front of the bus. The son of a bitch deserved to die, but instead he had been given a second chance.

  I’ll deal with him later. Right now, we have other
priorities.

  They careened through the backstreets for another ten minutes, firing at clusters of demons they couldn’t avoid. Several times, the bus ran straight over the enemy or ploughed through debris. The suspension was beginning to buckle. The bus was gradually giving up on them.

  “Everyone get ready,” Thomas yelled from the front. “We’re nearly there.”

  Mass tried to see through the windows but it was impossible. Had they actually made it all the way to the docks? The level of gunfire told him it might be so. He still had his Benelli shotgun, but he couldn’t lift it in the cramped aisle. The only thing he could do was ensure he didn’t drop it.

  The bus came to a sudden stop, throwing everyone forward. Many fell and had to scramble to keep from being trodden on. Mass pulled a woman to her feet after she fell face first against his knee. “You okay?”

  The woman nodded, sucking on a bloody lower lip. “Sorry.”

  “No problem. See you at the docks.”

  “There’re enemies on the ground,” Thomas yelled. “We need to fight our way to the walls.”

  “Great,” said Smithy, appearing beside Mass. Addy shoved her way over to join him too. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it?”

  Mass gave both his friends a steely glare. “Whatever happens, we three have each other’s backs, right?”

  Both nodded.

  The bus’s door folded open and men tumbled through the opening. Gunfire rattled immediately, joining the cacophony coming from the docks. Mass still couldn’t see through the windows, but he sensed the demons out there. Their screeching confirmed it. He tried to make contact with as many of his Vampires as he could spot, trying to convey the message that they should get ready for a fight.

  Mass battled his way to the front of the bus, then wasted no time leaping out onto the road. The rush of sound and sight was overwhelming. Men screamed. Demons wailed. Guns fired and bullets ate flesh. The stench of blood and smoke corrupted the air. Limbs from both sides littered the ground like a scene from a horror movie. Mass’s boot came down on something soft, and when he looked down he saw a chewed-off nose. Next to it was a string of sinewy meat that might have been the remains of a brain.