“Then the black box recording is lost, too?”
Mitchell shook his head. “No, I can still get it from the network. It’ll just take me a bit longer. Give us an hour.”
David caught a flash of concern present itself on Andras’s face at the mention of the black box. Perhaps he hadn’t counted on that.
David turned to face him. “Did you do that on purpose, Andras?”
“Do what?”
“Ruin Mina’s computer.”
“What? No, of course not. It was an accident. My nerves are fried. I’m jittery.”
“No,” said David. “You’re the least jittery person in this office. If it was you who deleted the website, just come clean about it now. You might be able to help us get it back online.”
“I swear, I did nothing. Mina was on my back about the same thing.”
“Mina’s dead,” David said it so that only Andras heard it. He also added a hint of aggression to his tone. He wanted Andras to know that he was on to him.
Andras took a step back as if the shock of Mina’s death had dealt him a physical blow. It could easily have been a reaction he’d rehearsed. “What do you mean she’s dead? I just saw her an hour ago.”
David nodded. “In fact, you were the last person to see her alive. Strange how bad things keep happening around you.”
Andras looked confused, but it was as if a mask fell. He leaned in close to David and spoke in a growl. “I don’t know why you have it in for me, David, but I suggest you back off. I would hate for you to have an accident too.”
“Are you suggesting you had something to do with Mina’s death?”
Andras stepped back and put on a bright smile as he pulled back and dropped into a practiced, defensive face. “Of course not. I had nothing to do with it.”
It was then that David noticed the ragged scratch mark on Andras’s neck, right below his ear. The small incision looked exactly like the kind of wound a woman’s fingernail would cause.
“We’ll talk again later, Andras. I have some things to attend to.”
Andras moved, but made sure to bump into David and shunt him out the way. “Go do some reporting, David, while you still can.”
David glared at the man’s back as he walked away and spoke only to himself. “Oh, I plan on it, you son-of-a-bitch. I’ll find the truth. I always do.”
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
When Rick opened his eyes, all he saw was red. He tried speaking, but his jaw seemed to open and close in strange ways. He was cold, could feel nothing at all but the chill on his skin.
“Hold on, Rick. I haven’t finished with you yet.”
Rick tried to move, but managed only to shift his legs from side to side.
“Hold your horses!”
Something clicked. Rick felt pressure inside his skull, and he was able to move his jaw again. He screamed. “Help me!”
“I am helping you, pal. Just stop wriggling like a worm.”
The red drained from Rick’s vision, and the world returned. Daniel hunched over him, staring.
“D-Daniel?”
“Yeah. Sorry for running out on you all, but me and the black haired gent have some history. I was hoping to get the jump on him, but by the time I got around back, things had already taken a turn for the worse.”
Rick blinked, took in a deep breath that felt divine in his lungs. “I… was hurt?”
“You were dead, pal, but no worries. I brought you back.”
Rick shot up into a sitting position and looked down at himself. Blood covered him.
He fingered his skull and felt it move.
“Give it a few moments to set,” said Daniel. “Your head was cracked wide open.”
Rick glanced around. He was sitting in the middle of the road, right next to his brother’s wrecked Range Rover. All the demons had gone, except for the corpses they had left behind.
“I-I… I don’t understand.”
“Khallutush stamped your head into pulp. I wasn’t sure I could mend you.”
“Khala…Khala?”
“Khallutush. The black haired demon. He used to be a—”
“A prince,” Rick finished for him. “He told me. Right before he… You really brought me back to life? That’s impossible.”
Daniel chuckled, but the sound was phlegmy, as if he was ill. “You should know by now, Rick, the rules have changed. Demons and angels walk the earth.”
“Who are you, Daniel?”
Daniel moved into a cross-legged position, where he propped his elbow on his knees. He looked sick as he spoke, like he was going to throw up. “My name is Daniel, The Watcher.”
Rick frowned. “Huh?”
“Thought that might confuse you. Don’t you people read your bibles anymore? I am Daniel, one of the twenty Watchers fallen from Heaven.”
Rick’s expression remained blank, but a bout of hysterical laughter wasn’t far off. What was he listening to?
Daniel tutted when he saw no understanding on Rick’s face. “I’m an angel, you numpty. One of the Fallen who fought beside Lucifer in the Heavenly Wars. I fell from grace with two hundred of my brothers after God’s faithful prevailed—Michael and Gabriel and all them good eggs. You must have heard of them?”
Rick nodded.
“Well, it was all a long time ago now. A really, really long time ago.”
Rick tried to follow along. “So you… fought against God?”
Daniel nodded. “I was young, stupid. Lucifer swept me along in his mad adventures before I even knew what was happening. One minute all was well, the next I’m fighting a war against my own brothers. Lucifer lost, and we all fell, lost our wings and ended up in Abysseus.”
Rick shuffled backwards, moving away on his butt. “You’re… You’re one of them?”
Daniel sighed. “I came through the gates, yeah. Of course I did—nobody would voluntarily stay in Hell, would they? I saw the seals break, and I scarpered. Doesn’t mean I want anything to do with all this. I’m not one of them.”
“What are they?”
“You already know that, Rick. They’re just people. Or at least they were. They’re the sinners sent to Hell throughout all of human history and even from times before. Some of them had only been in Hell a single second when the seals broke, but others, like Khallutush, have burned in Hell for millennia. The very worst beasts don’t even understand the concept of time anymore; their suffering has been so long. The Fallen have suffered since Abysseus first came into being—our pain was used to forge its walls at the dawn of history.”
“Why are the demons here?” Rick couldn’t believe he was asking the question. “What do they want?”
“A new home,” said Daniel. “Somewhere a little less fire-and-brimstony. At least, that’s what most of them want. The Fallen, though, they want to force God’s hand and finish what they started. Lucifer and the Red Lord want to see Heaven crumble. The Fallen lead their armies and intend to scourge humanity from the face of the earth and finally put an end to God’s finest creation. If God does not act, his work will be undone, his existence undermined. If humanity doesn’t fight back, He will have no choice but to intervene, and then he’ll be vulnerable.”
“So this is a war on God?”
Daniel nodded “And all He created. The Red Lord would rather see everything burn, than suffer in Hell one moment longer.”
Rick actually believed what he was hearing—after all he had seen and done, how could he not?—and wanted to learn more. “Who is the Red Lord?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel admitted. “Few in Hell have ever seen him, but he pulls Lucifer’s strings—always has. He might even have been the one who convinced Lucifer to start the war in Heaven in the first place. He-” Daniel broke off and started coughing and heaving. It went on for almost a minute. Once he caught his breath, he brought the back of his hand away from his mouth and saw blood.
Rick grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied him. “Are you okay
?”
“I’m fine. It just took a lot to bring you back.”
“Why did you?”
He shrugged. “Dunno, really. Suppose I must like you. We need to go.”
“Go where?”
“To get a little payback. Khallutush went after your brother and the others. They took off in your car, but I don’t know what happened to them after that. They might have gone back to your gaff.”
“They’d be better off making for the coast.”
“And they probably will have, but we need to get off the street. I need to rest.”
“Okay, then we’ll head back to mine.” Rick got up to his feet and helped Daniel to his. The self-proclaimed Fallen Angel had gone ghostly white, and his nose dripped with blood.
“Daniel, are you sure you’re okay? You look bad.”
“I’ll be fine. You’re the one who just had his skull crushed. Come on.”
They started down the road, allowing Daniel to take slow steps. There were more dead demons lying around the bend, crushed and broken, most likely, by the 19inch wheels of his imported Mustang.
“I hope they got away okay,” said Rick.
“Even your brother?”
“Yes, even him. Daniel, if you’re an angel, where are the others? I mean, the good ones, from Heaven.”
“Huh, been wondering that myself. The Fallen are all here—over two hundred in total. They all lost their wings when they fell, cut off from Heaven and God’s divine spirit. They’re driven by nothing now, except madness and anger. Lucifer had indoctrinated them long before they fell, and over the millennia, he has got them slavering for a new war, a War of Chaos and Ending. They want to wipe every living thing off the face of this planet, and then laugh in God’s face. They will show no mercy, for none was afforded to them. So, yeah, the Heavenly angels could do with making an appearance right around now.”
Rick felt sick in his stomach, but he kept probing for answers, even though each one he got made him more desperate. “Why aren’t you like the other Fallen, Daniel? Where are your wings? Why are you… human?”
“Because this isn’t my body. When I opposed Lucifer’s grand plans for a new war, he threw me into the lowliest pit in Hell. But nothing ever dies in Hell—my body still smoulders there now. When the seals broke, I projected my soul upon another.”
“You said demons couldn’t possess people because of iron in their blood.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t possible. The man whose body I took was in a coma. He was anaemic, and I was able to force my way in. It was he who spent all that time at the Vatican. I have all his memories, but don’t know his name. Isn’t that odd? I even talk like him.”
“So, you’re here to help? You want to fight Lucifer? Why?”
Daniel looked at Rick like he was an idiot. “Lucifer dragged me along in his first war and got me sent to Hell for all eternity. I’d say that’s reason enough to hold a grudge.”
They carried on down the road. All was quiet, everything still. Even the trees were devoid of motion—no breeze rustled their leaves. The entire stretch of road was dead, and only Rick and Daniel walked it.
The world had ended.
Rick’s house came into view around the next bend. The gates were still hanging wide open, but there was no Mustang parked in the driveway.
He couldn’t help but smile. “The others aren’t here. They must have made for the coast. Good on them.”
“Shame,” said Daniel. “It would have been nice for us all to stick together.”
“If you’re an angel, why can’t you just magic us to wherever they are? You brought me back to life, so why can’t you do something as simple as that?”
“I lost my wings when I fell. I’m not really an angel anymore. I have a little residual power, just enough to bring you back, but I can’t teleport, or shoot fire from my eyes. Lucky for you, neither can any of my big brothers currently stomping their way around the earth.”
“How do we fight back?”
“By doing what you’ve been doing. I don’t know if you noticed, Rick, but we just passed about two dozen dead demons. Maddy must have killed five or six by running them down in your car. They die as easily as you do. If people realise they can fight back, humanity might have a chance. Men are animals, but they’ve forgotten. People need to rediscover their claws before it’s too late.”
“I think it might already be too late.”
Daniel stumbled and almost fell. His nose bled again, and Rick had to steady him. When he looked into his eyes, the irises had turned a solid black.
“What’s happening to you, Daniel?”
“The iron in my blood. There’s only a trace amount, but it’s keeping me from healing. Bringing you back, it… it…”
Daniel’s legs folded, and he fell into Rick’s arms, shuddering and moaning.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Rick knelt down and heaved Daniel up onto his shoulders. He hurried through the gate and staggered up the driveway. The front door hung open too; he hadn’t closed it when he’d left—he’d not expected to return. There was something sad about returning home now—an emptiness of knowing it was no longer a house, but a tomb. It was destined to deteriorate into a neglected ruin. Still, it was the only thing left that reminded Rick of what life had been less than a week ago.
Things had changed in the blink of an eye.
Daniel trembled across Rick’s shoulders, having a mild fit as he hurried inside and went into the living room. He threw the wounded angel down on the couch, and then he turned to go get water from the kitchen.
“Worm! You live still?”
Rick lurched backwards in fright, colliding with the glass coffee table in the centre of the room and cracking it. The noise brought more demons rushing into the room, and he found himself encircled.
The monsters had invaded his home.
“What are you doing in my house?”
Khallutush bared his rotting teeth. “Looking for things to kill. I get to crush your skull all over again, worm.”
Rick remembered what Daniel had said about fighting, so he didn’t back away, even though he wanted to. Not intending to get pinned down, he clambered up onto the couch and launched himself over the back of it. He collided with a nearby demon and sent it crashing into the wall. It stumbled to its knees, which gave Rick chance to viciously stomp on its head. Another demon tried to grab him from behind. He thrust his head backwards and broke its fragile nose before spinning around and clubbing it in the side of the head with his fist. It fell down unconscious.
More demons attacked, but Rick kept them at bay with fists and feet, stomping them whenever he could knock one down. He eventually found himself face to face with Khallutush, who stood before him, laughing like a towering hyena.
“Lie down, worm, my foot is ready to reacquaint itself with your skull.”
“No, thanks.”
Khallutush roared and swung his giant fists at Rick. Rick ducked and delivered a punch of his own, hitting the festering gut wound caused by the iron poker. His fist came away caked in foul smelling gore, but Khallutush bellowed in pain and doubled over.
Rick raced into the kitchen and yanked open a drawer. He pulled out the biggest knife he could find and—
Khallutush rammed into Rick from behind, knocking the wind out of his lungs and sending him sprawling across the counter top. He barely slipped away before Khallutush could hit him with a follow-up blow.
Another demon ran into the kitchen and tried to leap on Rick while he was off balance. He ducked and buried his knife into its guts, pulling it free with a sickly pop. Then he dodged behind the kitchen island and used it as a barrier between him and the monstrous Khallutush.
Khallutush laughed. “You reek of desperation.
“And you reek of ancient dead person.”
“You speak to a prince of Hell.”
“You’re in my fucking kitchen.” Rick picked up a bamboo chopping board from the counter and hurled it at Khallutush. I
t hit the demon in the chest and made him grunt, but then he laughed. With impossible strength, he reached out a giant hand and swept aside the heavy granite-countertop island. Rick stumbled out of the way before he was crushed, but found himself cornered at the back of the kitchen with no way to get out.
Khallutush approached.
Rick threw a punch, but Khallutush caught his hand and squeezed. “Worthless maggot. You will be forgotten before your body even cools.”
Rick moaned as the bones in his hand creaked in the demon’s vice-like grip. He beat at Khallutush’s chest with his free hand, but it was like punching brick. Every second the pressure increased. Khallutush seemed to savour the agony on Rick’s face.
Rick screamed.
“Yes,” Khallutush purred, “Beg. Beg for mercy. Beg to be forgotten.”
Rick bit down on his tongue as the tiny bones in his hand snapped like twigs. The pain was so unbearable that he would do anything to make it stop. It took everything he had not to give in. “I’m a one-hit wonder. I’ll never be forgotten.”
Khallutush snarled, and clamped his fist closed, crushing Rick’s hand flat and breaking every tiny bone. He screamed so hard that something in his throat ripped. He coughed, spluttered, and vomited.
Khallutush let him collapse to the floor and stood over him. “Time to die, and stay dead, worm.” He lifted his huge foot over Rick’s skull. “You have the honour of dying at the foot of a prince twice.”
Rick clutched his hand and moaned on the floor, waiting for death—welcoming it.
“Didn’t anybody tell you?” came a voice from across the room. “Your kingdom fell to ruin a long time ago. You’re a prince of nothing.”
Still perched on one leg, Khallutush glanced back over his shoulder and seemed confused.
Rick craned his neck and saw Daniel standing in the entrance. The wounded angel held the severed head of a demon under his arm, like a basketball.
“Daniel the Watcher?” Khallutush snarled. “You should be burning in Hell.”
“I’m on vacation.” Daniel bowled the severed head into the air, and it ignited. When it struck Khallutush, it engulfed him like a human torch. His thick arms flailed as he spun on the spot and screamed defiance. “You will all burn!”
The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel Page 25
