Wasteland in Red Square (Hell Gate Book 2)

by Josh Matthews

  Melnikov centered himself in the doorway and faced the others. “Iosif, Pavlov. Secure and lock outer doors, and remain here with bus crews. Jason and Haneef will be up front with me. Stay alert and don’t bunch up.”

  “Ready?” Grachov asked.

  “When you are,” said Melnikov.

  The FSB officer led the way. They walked for ten minutes along the foreboding tunnel. It was cold and damp, and the air smelled musty. Jason concentrated on listening for noises on the other sides of the wall, a sign that Hell Spawn might be nearby. Except for the echoing of their footsteps, he heard nothing.

  “Are you certain no Hell Spawn can get in here?” he asked Melnikov.

  “Every exterior door leading into bunker system made of two feet of steel-reinforced concrete and weighs thirty tons. They are secured on inside by titanium deadbolts ten feet long and eight inches thick. As for bunker itself, entire system is over five hundred feet underground. Walls are twenty feet thick and reinforced with steel bars. If demony exists large enough to get in here, you and I will not live long enough to tell tale.”

  “Comforting,” Slava mumbled from behind them.

  The group came to a crossing where their tunnel ended at another that ran north to south. Melnikov pointed to the right. “A ten minute walk in that direction would bring us under Dzerzhinsky Square where former KGB headquarters is located. We have to go other direction. That will take us to Red Square.”

  This tunnel was like the others except every few hundred yards it had blast doors built into the walls, all of which were closed and secured. After thirty minutes, the tunnel ended at a blast door. Grachov opened it and ushered everyone through. Jason entered a room so large the beams from their flashlights didn’t reach the other walls. Dozens of rectangular columns painted light green and arranged in rows supported the roof.

  “We are beneath State Palace inside Kremlin. This room is registration area for government officials entering bunker.” Melnikov pointed to the wall behind him, hidden in the shadows. “Stairwell over there leads to Kremlin courtyard.”

  “Let’s go,” said Father Belsario.

  “First we need to survey Red Square and see what situation like. Bunker designers incorporated special access to street level so scouts could go topside without having to open main doors. Jason, you want to see?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’d like to go, too,” said Father Belsario.

  “Okay, just two of you. I don’t want demony spotting us before we’re ready. Follow me.”

  ***

  Jason regretted agreeing to go with Melnikov. The captain had failed to mention that the special access to the street level consisted of a ladder situated inside a vertical shaft not much larger than a manhole cover that ascended over six hundred feet. Fortunately, Melnikov stopped twice to rest, which saved Jason from appearing like a wimp. However, by the time they reached the exit hatch, every muscle in Jason’s arms and legs hurt and his lungs felt as if they would explode.

  Melnikov raised a finger in front of his lips. “Keep quiet from here on out. We are at ground level. I have no idea how many demony are up here or how near they are.”

  Melnikov spun the valve wheel, unlocking the hatch. When the captain opened it, Jason felt the aura of thousands of lost souls stimulating his senses. Melnikov stuck his head through the opening, checked the surroundings, and climbed through. He raised his AK-47 into the high ready position and motioned for the others to join him. Jason crawled out and readied his FAMAS. When Father Belsario scurried through, Melnikov lowered the hatch. They were in a small red brick room ten feet square. Melnikov crossed over to a wooden door on the opposite wall, placed his ear against the surface, and listened. When confident nothing lurked on the other side, he swung it open and stepped out. Waving for Jason and Belsario to follow, the captain wound his way up a circular flight of cement stairs. As they approached the top, the glare from the sun forced Jason to squint. When he reached the landing, Melnikov grabbed Jason’s shoulder and forced him into a crouch behind a partially destroyed brick wall. It took a moment for Jason’s eyes to adjust to the light. When they did, he peered over the top of the wall.

  “Oh my God,” Jason whispered.

  They stood in the ruined Savior Tower near the northern end of the Kremlin’s outer wall. Red Square spread out beneath him, or more precisely, its remains. The nuclear explosion had devastated the once iconic landmark. All three towers along the Kremlin’s north wall had been ripped apart, and the wall itself had collapsed in several places. Savior Tower, which protected the northeast entrance to the Kremlin, had survived because of its distance from the blast and the massiveness of its foundation; however, the spire and black-faced clock that should have towered above him had been torn away. Off to their left, Lenin’s Tomb had survived the explosion despite its proximity, although the top levels that contained the viewing stand had collapsed on itself. Across the square, GUM Department Store lay in shambles. The portion nearest to the blast had been flattened, with the skeletal remains of a dragon lying in front of it. The segment of the façade farthest away had not collapsed, although it was heavily damaged and pocked. At the eastern end of the square, St. Basil’s Cathedral seemed relatively unscathed, although all of the onion domes had been smashed and the central spire snapped off. The skeleton of a second dragon rested at an awkward angle in front of the structure. Ironically, only the State Historical Museum, which had been directly behind the Hell Gate, had come through the incident unscathed because the portal had absorbed the explosion in that direction.

  Thousands of Nachzehrer wandered through Red Square and around piles of debris, with more stumbling through the portal every minute. The horde spread out and made its way onto the side streets and down to the Moskva River. Two dragons guarded the Hell Gate, one on each side. They were curled up asleep, yet Jason knew his team would never reach the portal without disturbing them. Jason noticed a pair of Golem standing several hundred feet away on the Hell side of the portal, their attention focused inward.

  Several piles of debris stood in eerie mounds across the square, but they did not resemble rubble. Jason tapped Melnikov on the shoulder and pointed toward the one on the opposite side of Lenin’s Mausoleum. “What are those?”

  “Bones of plot’ yedokov. After Budenny detonated nuclear device, new dragons pushed them to side with tails so they can travel through square easily. Have you seen enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Let’s go back and get ready. We have tough afternoon ahead of us.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Everyone mingled in two separate groups inside the reception area, checking their weapons one final time. No one spoke. No one had to. Except for a handful of people, every man and woman here had gone into battle against the Hell Spawn before. They knew what to expect, and they knew some of them would have a short time left to live.

  Melnikov moved into the center of the two groups. “Grachov, take Jason’s team to jump off point and wait. Do not go outside or expose yourself to demony until we are ready.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Jason.” The captain checked his watch. “It’s 12:47. At 1:17, we’ll commence diversionary fire. Give us few minutes to draw demony away and then storm vrata. Don’t wait too long, though. Once we make physical contact, we’ll have five minutes at best before demony overrun us. Is that clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” said Melnikov. “Let’s kick demony ass and make world proud.”

  Melnikov led his platoon out of the reception hall in the same direction they had entered earlier. Grachov headed for the opposite end of the hall and motioned for the others to follow. The lieutenant opened a blast door in the middle of the wall, revealing a flight of cement stairs that ascended along the outer walls of the well.

  Slava shone his flashlight up the center. The beam did not reach the top. “How many flights are there?”

  “Twenty-two,” Grachov answered.


  “Shit,” mumbled Haneef, unconsciously hefting the minigun on his shoulders.

  “Do you need help with that?” Antoine asked.

  “I can handle it.”

  “No need to worry,” said Grachov. “For now, we’re climbing only eighteen flights.”

  “Child’s play,” Jason joked as he followed the lieutenant. Lucifer and Lilith bounded up the steps beside him, with the others right behind.

  When Grachov reached the eighteenth landing he stopped in front of an elevator built into the wall. Removing his bayonet, he wedged the blade between the twin doors and wiggled it until he pried them open several inches. They had not been used in a while and, at first, they would not budge.

  “Let me do that.” Father Belsario stepped forward. He grabbed the edge of one of the doors and pulled until he had moved it a foot. Sliding into the opening, the cleric placed his back against the door on the right and his hands on the one on the left and pushed. A snap accompanied the grinding of metal against metal, and the doors slid open all the way. The elevator had been built to accommodate patient gurneys, with another set of sliding doors located at the rear of the car. Grachov stepped over and jammed his bayonet between them, and Belsario helped pry them apart. This time they opened with minimal effort.

  Grachov led the way down a narrow corridor, four feet wide and seven feet high. Faded white tiles with darkened grout adorned the walls. They walked for several hundred feet. Jason felt claustrophobic in the confined space.

  “Where are we?” asked Vicky.

  “We’re in a secret tunnel that passes beneath the Kremlin wall. A handful of government officials know about this. The party built it so we could save the nation’s most valued treasure in an emergency.” Grachov pointed to the ceiling. “Ground level is one hundred feet above us.”

  A minute later they came to a metal door with a valve wheel. Grachov spun it, opened the door, and entered the room beyond. It was tiled just like the tunnel but was larger, fifty feet square. A stainless-steel tub sat in the center of the floor, with a hospital gurney on one side and a movable tray of medical instruments on the other. Something sat in the tub. Jason shone his flashlight on it. It was a naked body, the skin yellow and dry, yet not quite mummified. A sewed-up surgical incision ran from its neck to it abdomen where it ended in an opening the size of a baseball. Lucifer jumped up and placed his front paws on the rim of the tub, sniffed the body, and whimpered.

  Slava moved up beside Grachov. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “That’s Vladimir Ilyich Lenin.”

  “What’s he doing here, mate?” Ian asked.

  “We are underneath Lenin’s Mausoleum. Every year they bring the body here for maintenance. You know, to repair any damage and touch up the makeup. The curators were in the middle of giving Lenin his annual bath when the vrata opened.” Grachov pointed to a wooden door in the corner. “That’s a circular staircase that leads to the mausoleum. From this point on there’s no talking. Pass it down the line. If the demony detect us before Melnikov is in position, we all die in Moscow.”

  “Gotcha,” said Jason.

  Grachov opened the door and ascended the stairs.

  ***

  Melnikov’s squad followed the underground bunker system to a set of blast doors that exited into the basement of GUM Department Store. The captain grabbed the door’s valve wheel and clutched it. “Ready?”

  The three soldiers standing line abreast in the tunnel raised their weapons into the high ready position and aimed. Melnikov spun the valve wheel until the dead bolts clicked. He hoped that the cave in caused by the nuclear detonation had not affected this portion of the basement, and that they would not be greeted by a swarm of demony. The captain pulled open the door and stepped through, followed by the three soldiers. The basement remained intact, although chunks of cement had fallen from the ceiling. Even more fortunate, no demony were in sight. He waved on his men. They proceeded south through the basement, the last two out of the tunnel securing the blast door behind them. The platoon double timed until they reached a service elevator and accompanying stairwell. Melnikov led the way to the first floor, paused on the landing until his team was prepared, and pushed open the door.

  Although this portion of GUM had structurally survived the blast, it suffered extensive damage. The glass ceiling had collapsed and most of the store windows were broken, covering the floors in shards. Melnikov heard a crunching to his right. A mertvyye demony staggered in front of a Hugo Boss store. Hearing the noise, the creature spun around and snarled. One of Melnikov’s men raced forward, slipped his hunting knife from its scabbard, and plunged the blade through its left eye, twisting it at an angle to scramble the brain. A blue eddy of light burst through the top of its skull, and the mertvyye demony dropped onto the glass with a crunch. When it did, flocks of birds took off from nests along the upper corridor and escaped through the shattered glass ceiling. No other mertvyye demony were visible.

  Melnikov gestured for his men to shut off their flashlights, and then made his way toward the front of GUM. They broke into two columns and followed, checking each store they passed for hidden demony. As they approached the entrance to Red Square, the captain raised his hand, ordering his men to stop, and proceeded ahead alone. He crouched down by the twisted door frames and peered out. They were at the southern-most entrance along the department store’s eastern façade. Lenin’s Tomb sat across from him and one hundred feet to the right. Thousands of mertvyye demony stumbled through the square, and the two dragons still rested on either side of the vrata. None of them seemed aware of his presence. Melnikov rejoined his team, moving cautiously so as not to make noise.

  “We’re right where we’re supposed to be. Where’s Telegrin?”

  Senior Sergeant Telegrin stepped forward. He carried an OSV-96 108mm sniper rifle. “I’m here, Captain.”

  “Take a fire team up to third floor and set up position. You know what to do.”

  Telegrin snapped to attention and saluted. He pointed to the first two soldiers at the head of the team, and the three backtracked to the stairwell.

  “The rest of you spread out in surrounding stores. Stay within one hundred feet of each other, and stay concealed until it’s time.”

  As his team moved into position, Melnikov checked his watch. It read 1:11.

  ***

  The stairway Grachov led them up ended inside Lenin’s Tomb. The empty sarcophagus sat on a red granite podium in the center of the mausoleum’s sunken viewing theater surrounded by a low, red granite wall. A casing of bulletproof glass rested on top of an intricately carved metal base designed to resemble a funeral bier and tiered with layers of marble. The walls were lined with black labradorite interspersed with red porphyry columns, giving the interior a macabre appearance. Cracks extended across the labradorite, especially on the wall facing ground zero, and several slabs had broken lose to litter the floor of the mausoleum. One of the columns had toppled over onto the sarcophagus, pushing aside the red granite covering and shattering the bullet-proof glass on one side. Grachov led the way up one side of the sarcophagus to the upper lobby maneuvering around the stone slabs. He stopped and pointed to a pair of doors, and then whispered to Jason.

  “Red Square is right through that door, and the vrata is a few hundred meters away. Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Good. Now we wait.”

  Jason checked his watch. It read 1:15.

  ***

  Melnikov’s watch clicked over to 1:17. He switched his AK-47 to single shot mode, took aim on the head of the nearest mertvyye demony, and fired. Its skull exploded. As the corpse collapsed onto the pavement, each soldier along the front façade of GUM Department Store opened fire. Another twenty life forces were freed from their rotting prison. As the barrage continued, it drew the attention of every mertvyye demony in Red Square. The horde shifted en masse and shambled toward Melnikov’s platoon, clearing a path between Lenin’s Tomb and the vr
ata. The commotion also caught the attention of the two dragons. The one nearest GUM scurried toward the sound of gunfire. The second remained in place and scanned the area. Melnikov swore to himself. He had not anticipated this. With the second dragon still guarding the vrata, the entire plan was now in danger.

  Ignoring the approaching behemoth, Melnikov’s men concentrated their fire on the mertvyye demony. The captain watched the dragon, praying it behaved as he expected. It crushed scores of smaller demony as it raced across Red Square. As it neared GUM, it slowed and paced back and forth, studying the situation. The dragon roared defiantly. It lowered the front part of its torso and leaned its head forward. The glowing ridges along its chest and spine shone in intensity.

  The fusillade slackened as Melnikov’s men focused on the dragon and their impending death.

  Come on, Melnikov thought. What’s taking so long?

  ***

  From his rooftop perch on the southeast corner of GUM, Telegrin kept his scope trained on the dragon as it moved across Red Square. Instinct urged him to fire before the creature got too close, but his training told him to hold off. He would have one chance to inflict a fatal wound; if he reacted too quickly he would blow it. Telegrin bided his time. The dragon lowered the front part of its torso and leaned its head forward, pausing for a moment as the ridges along its chest and spine glowed. Telegrin had been waiting for this moment. In the span of two seconds, he lined up the scope on the dragon’s right eye, took a deep breath to steady himself, and pulled the trigger.

  The 108mm round punched through the dragon’s eye and into its skull. The monster jerked its head back and howled. It spun around several times, crushing hundreds of mertvyye demony beneath it, before falling on its side facing away from GUM. It panted, and its tail swished in diminishing circles. Telegrin centered his scope on the monster’s left eye, taking his time to line up the shot. One squeeze of the trigger, and the black orb exploded. The dragon screeched and went rigid, and then fell limp.