Ken struggled to hold Dementia at bay. Drool dripped from her ragged mouth and hit the asphalt, where it sizzled. Her entire body was atop him, her weight and strength holding him down. Her face grew closer until only a few inches separated them.
“Youuu arrre not worthy of my powerrrssss.”
He knew she was about to spit on him, spit right in his face with that acidic saliva of hers. It would be the last humiliation. He struggled with all his might but couldn’t move. The Lionheart blade waved and flashed above his head, but the irony was, he couldn’t reach it.
“Dieeee,” she hissed.
Demonic hooves and claws pounded by them as the demons charged, trying to force the humans off the bridge. Several fell beside Ken’s skull, but they didn’t help him. One fell over Dementia, but she held fast.
Ken stared vile death in the face.
A wicked scimitar-like blade cleaved Dementia’s face from the other side, passing straight through her skull and splitting through her nose. Ken saw it and then jerked his head aside, avoiding the blood. Dementia fell dead to the right. Ken was left staring up at Felicia.
The wolf held out a hand. “You okay?”
“Yeah, you took your time. I was holding her down for ages.”
Felicia smirked. “I didn’t want to interrupt whilst you two were . . . you know . . .”
Ken shuddered, then reached down and extracted his blade. “This time,” he said. “She doesn’t come back.”
With a heavy blow he sliced her head clean off its shoulders. They watched it roll, the terrible eyes still flashing, the ragged teeth grinding together, the bloodied feet drumming until all sense of life left the separated skull and body.
Finally, Dementia was dead.
Ken looked around. They were surrounded by demons.
“We’ve lost the bridge,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Ken pounded through the demonic mass, Felicia and Milo at his side, all the way back to the Presidio.
They left the winding gray road where it formed the outskirts of the park, and pushed through green trees onto a wide green lawn. Red-roofed buildings stood in a rough semi-circle with more green at their center. Clumps of trees stood everywhere.
Almost every available space was taken by men at arms. Some even knelt atop the roofs and clung to trees. The demons had no choice but to press on through the Presidio and the men ready to ambush.
“Wait until they start to flank us,” Ken gasped at a nearby captain.
“We’re aware of military strategy,” the man said.
Ken nodded. Fair enough. His experience was surfing, rock chicks and beer. The captain probably had him on this one.
Felicia was staring at the park and the sense of freedom it offered. “I’m so happy,” she said.
Ken turned from the advancing demonic horde to the men holding machine guns. “You lycans are incredibly weird, you know that?”
“I had my freedom taken away,” Felicia said. “Utterly. That metal cage almost broke me. But this . . . this is why I fight.”
Three minutes later the swarm of demons was flanking the park, though most of their number still filled the Golden Gate. But they couldn’t let the vanguard into the city to reap torment and misery on its citizens. The order went up; the assembled soldiers attacked the demons from the Presidio, blindly striking their flank.
Ken was among them, his friends at his side. They were covered in blood, aching and bleeding but they didn’t falter for a moment. As a mass, they caved in the line of demons, killing hundreds in the initial strike. Ken swung left and right. With more space Felicia turned into wolf-form and slashed throats with her claws. The demons couldn’t cope with the huge wolf ravaging among them, and broke ranks. Ken broke through to the far side of their line and turned to slash at more enemies. They were endless. They were legion.
He glanced over his shoulder, up toward the bridge.
It groaned and swayed with the weight upon it. Beyond the normal demons he was used to there were now larger beasts coming across. Dozens of squid-things crawled across the side of the bridge, moving along by reaching out with their tentacles and pulling themselves forward. He saw enormous, black, deadly spider-creatures crawling along its underside, upside down.
It was the end of everything.
They’d shattered the demon line, but more were coming. They could retreat back into the Presidio and attack again, but men were falling everywhere. Their numbers had almost halved. Ken heard someone yelling a retreat and saw soldiers sweep back into the park. Any demon that pursued them died quickly.
“Gather yourselves! Regroup!” the man cried out, his words echoed across the park. “We attack again in a few minutes.”
Ken planted the point of his sword into the ground and leaned on it. Felicia transformed back into a woman, a very beautiful woman with ripped clothes that caught his eye.
“Is it wrong for me to fancy you right now?”
“Your blood’s up,” she said. “Your battle fury and your virility will be up with it.”
“No,” Ken said. “It’s you.”
She squinted sideways at him. “Me?”
“You’re amazing. The most incredible creature I’ve ever met. From the moment we traveled into hell I’ve been trying to ignore my feelings for you.”
“That’s supposed to be the line before you sleep with the girl.”
“I know,” Ken said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You really do choose your time,” Milo said, putting his big head between them. “We’re all going to die here. Gloriously, I’m sure. But we’re still going to die.”
Ken regarded him and then the horizon. “I think you’re right. But let’s make a fine end of it. Let’s see who gets further up the bridge, shall we?”
Milo grinned and clapped him on the back. Felicia placed a soft hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad I met you, Ken Hamilton,” she said. “And, if am to die, I’m glad it will be alongside you.”
The captains called their men to order. This would be the last huge human onslaught of the battle of San Francisco. They loaded their weapons and raised swords, shields, clubs and machetes. Anything they could get their hands on. Everything.
They attacked again, obliterating the demons’ flanks. Ken heard bones crack and terrible screams as they came together. His sword took heads and limbs. Fallen men and hideous beasts littered the road. Other military forces had struck further up, almost at the foot of the great bridge, sweeping their enemies away.
That left a gap for those beasts on the bridge to start a charge. Ken saw it begin, heard the bellowing. The entire mass was jogging and then running, weapons held high. He guessed there had to be over 100,000 of them. He sprinted along the road, leaping over dying demons, trying to reach the human vanguard to assist before the mass hit it. He was a few seconds late, and saw the front six rows of men lined up with their guns, standing, kneeling and lying prone, sending an incredible wall of lead into their attackers. They never wavered, didn’t turn their faces as the demons hit, slicing into their ranks. Ken was there moments later with Felicia and Milo, barging attackers aside and fighting hand to hand. But their opponents were bigger now, and stronger. One batted Ken so hard he blacked out.
When he came to, he was on his back, the same demon above him. It raised an anvil-like hand. He jabbed up with the sword, gutted it, and rolled to escape its collapse. He rose, covered in blood and dirt, blond hair still tangled by the wind.
His vision was awash with demons, framed by the Golden Gate’s uprights. It was soul-destroying. Civilians and the military had fought so well, defended their city so valiantly, only to be overcome by sheer weight of numbers.
Felicia fell at his side, whimpering in wolf form. A colossal beast had kicked her away from one of its brethren. Milo went up against it, but even the huge vampire was forced to his knees.
Ken sat up as demons with swords ran at him. He had one hand on Felicia as she cried, on
e hand holding the Lionheart blade. The last act was coming in the shape of deadly steel.
When the noise came, he couldn’t comprehend it. A great whoosh of air, the sound of a screaming engine. The thunderclap of a great passing. He thought it was a new demon, something vast that was falling from the sky.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar shape. He’d seen them recently vying for air superiority above Miami. It was an F16, and was soon joined by more than a dozen others.
Ken’s heart rejoiced. The second army has arrived!
Everything on the bridge, human and demon, stopped to stare up at the skies. Sleek black shapes twisted and turned up there, flying over the scene. The sound of their passing beat down at the bridge and its occupants and at the waters of the bay. Ken scrambled to his knees, all thoughts of defeat vanquished.
If they could just hold on until the foot soldiers got here.
Just then, one of the captains ran past, sweating, screaming at his men. “Get clear of the fucking bridge!”
Ken realized what was about to happen. His jaw fell open in shock and awe. Felicia and Milo grabbed him and forced him backward, away from the bridge. The F16s swooped in and unleashed seven missiles at the great golden structure before swooping up into the bright sunshine.
The missiles impacted with the bridge supports. Enormous explosions rocked the bay and San Francisco itself. Fire and steel detonated in all directions. Most of the demons on the bridge fell to their knees, then stampeded.
Ken saw it all. He felt it through his boots. The entire structure swayed left and right before crumbling. The suspension cables snapped. The tall supports wavered and shattered all down their length. The roadway fell away, taking thousands of demons with it. They plummeted like a curtain of water; endless, outlandish shapes streaming off the bridge almost 800 feet straight down into the churning waters.
The great bridge itself split apart and crashed down, falling away with a shocking abruptness. Ken was left staring at a long expanse of nothing clear across to the other side of the bay.
When Felicia and Milo stopped dragging him, he collapsed. Never had he imagined this. He hit the ground and sat there, sword at his side, trying to quell the rising trauma inside. This was just one battle, he knew. This was just the beginning. He looked up and saw a captain hovering close by.
“How many do we have left?”
“Forty, fifty thousand I guess.”
“And how many more are coming with the second army?”
“Three times that. Plus F22s, F16s, tanks, vehicles. The fucking lot.”
“Then the plan’s still on.” Ken wiped his face, staring into the bright blue sky. “This afternoon we start the march to Las Vegas.”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The great march began on Mission Street and crossed the Oakland Bay Bridge. By the end of the first day they were 200,000 strong. Most were military personnel and carried their own rations, but the civilians that joined were told to find backpacks and bring enough food and water for seven days. The military commanders knew they were fighting to avert the end of the world and accepted every man, woman and Uber that wanted to join. They knew other countries and cities were beset, fallen and in terrible turmoil. Vienna and the United Kingdom, Paris and Northern Ireland; all were fighting tooth and nail for their very existence.
Ken, Felicia and Milo were privy to it all. They saw reports flashing in on tablets and other devices. Some were Kinkade originated, others from brave people in the skies, and unmanned drones. From Aegis they knew that the Devil had made base in Las Vegas and, from Aegis, they knew it was the best and hardest place on the planet to strike.
“Bastard’s surrounding himself with entire armies,” one of the commanders said. “Our 200,000 won’t penetrate that.”
Ken thought about the twelve jet fighters they had hidden in Nevada, the tanks and the patrol vehicles with machine guns and grenade launchers. “We have a shit ton of firepower, sir, with more coming every day.”
The army marched as hard as it was able. The word was put out to underground rebels, to hidden knots of fighters, to those that waited and planned in their basements and their attics, that the last great army of the world was on the march and they planned to take back their planet.
They followed interstates where cars sprawled in haphazard array. Humans lay dead on the road, dragged out by demons and murdered. Humans were dead inside the cars. They were fallen where they had run along the median or the grass verges. Soon, the army diverted its course to quieter roads.
They threaded through the majesty of Yosemite National Park. The nights on the road had been cool so far, cool and noisy. Ken found himself bedding down with Felicia on one side and Milo on the other. It wasn’t the best bedfellow combination he’d ever imagined.
“Any news from the other Chosen?” Felicia asked, running fingers through her blond hair to give it at least a semblance of orderliness.
Ken shook his head. “I’m not sure if they even know we’re back. I don’t know who’s alive. It seems they attacked the Devil in Vegas and lost. They’re massing.”
“Massing?” Milo was dividing their rations.
“Making an army. Asking as many military and civilian people as possible to join them. And they’re waiting for us to arrive.”
“Ah crap,” Milo said, peering into the MRE tins he’d opened. “We got the four dicks of death.”
Ken’s eyes widened. “Say what now?”
Milo showed them the tins, filled with an unappealing mound of four beef links and beans. Even the fading light did nothing to hide the unappetizing food. “Marines call them that due to their appearance and foul taste.”
“Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore,” Felicia said.
“We’re in Yosemite,” Ken said. “I’m sure there’s a rabbit or two around here, hey Felicia?”
The blonde gave him a stare. “I am not hunting for the whole camp.”
“And some of these people still hate all Ubers,” Milo said, looking around. “Even though we fight on their side.”
“Prejudice,” Ken said. “Some people just can’t get past it.”
Milo handed the food out. Ken stared at it, considering the options, now wishing he’d taken a turn around the last grocery store they passed. The dark was coming, the last vestiges of yellow being painted out of the horizon. Dark shapes melded together all around them, the stunning landscape disappearing. Ken smelled fresh, cool air and breathed deep, but the smells and sounds of the vast camp somewhat ruined the ambiance.
As they settled down there came the noise of something running. Of thudding. Of something beating against the ground. They shot to their feet, the camp illuminated only by the glow of a thousand fires. Ken saw them first coming over a far hill.
“Elephants,” he said. “Wait, no that can’t be right.”
They were the size and shape of elephants, but they ran fast and hard over a dozen spikes running the length of their trunks which they waved in a sweeping fashion. Their tails were long and jagged. They pounded the ground and stampeded toward the camp, smashing through the outskirts before anyone could raise an alarm. With a 200,000-strong army, only a few could be brought to bear to defend it, but those that did emptied their weapons into the running beasts until they collapsed and died.
Ken unleashed the Lionheart blade and joined the defense with Felicia at his side. The wolf leapt and dug her claws into the beasts’ hides to pull her up close to their throats, which she ripped apart. Felicia took out eight of them. Ken slashed at the legs, cutting hamstrings. The beasts crashed in his wake, head first, churning up bow-waves of dirt. Ranks of men behind fired dozens of bullets into their brains. The battle didn’t last long but by the time it was over they had lost over 200 men, most in the initial surprise attack.
“We’ll send out more scouts,” the leaders of their army said. “Build a better perimeter.”
There were no obvious signs that the stampede had been purposely aime
d at the army. The next day they continued the march, the vast human host taking its time to shamble into its stride. Ken walked somewhere near the front and was able to jump onto the side of a military vehicle whenever he felt like taking a break. He was luckier than most. Every hour they were joined by more men and women, many citing stories of hardship and torment, of terrible death.
On the fourth day, Ken managed to get through to Lysette Cohen over at Aegis’ new headquarters. Her happiness at hearing he had survived his journey through hell was subdued only by the news that Eliza hadn’t.
“We’re two days out,” Ken told the Chosen eventually. “What have you got?”
“A massive army,” Logan told him. “You?”
“Me too. We gonna hit Vegas from two sides?”
“That’s the plan. And we have ideas about how to beat Lucifer.”
“You do? Maybe you could share.”
When they were almost done, Ken felt a few moments of nostalgia. “It’s been utterly real,” he said, “meeting you all.”
“If that means ‘good,’” Lysette said, “then it’s mutual.”
“Can’t you read my mind?”
“Not from here, dummy.”
“Oh, well. Thank you for helping me become a better man. I feel I’ve changed drastically. I want to help win this for all humankind, even the assholes.”
Lysette laughed. “Us too. So, all that remains to be said is this: Fare well, Ken Hamilton. See you on the battlefield.”
“I’ll see you in Vegas,” Ken said, “at the end of everything.”
Not long after that they came to a point overlooking Death Valley. There was a wide pass down to the salt flats which was fortunate. What wasn’t fortunate was the sight of three enormous dinosaurs and a pack of antelope-like creatures down there, roaming around. The antelopes bore razor-like antlers and claws for hooves, and had rows and rows of teeth.
The Chosen Trilogy Boxset Page 53
