Wasteland in Red Square

by Josh Matthews

  “To the Hell Gaters!” The team took a swig of wine and followed that up with a chorus of back slapping, table slamming, and victory yells.

  ***

  Jason excused himself from the dinner around ten o’clock. Most of the team had already gone to bed since they were leaving at 0800, although a few diehards hung around to enjoy their last night of civilization for a while. Jason opted not to go straight back to his room. He wanted to tour Mont St. Michel one final time. For over an hour, he strolled through the back streets and alleys, committing the town to memory, before emerging back onto Grande Rue. Making his way to the Abbey’s main entrance, Jason crossed the courtyard to his favorite spot, the terrace overlooking the bay. Sitting on the edge of the wall, he admired the surroundings. The tide rolled in, bringing it with it that salty-briny smell he had grown fond of and the sound of the surf smashing onto the island’s rocks. A full moon hung high in a cloudless sky, bathing the area in soft light and leaving a reflection across the water’s surface that shimmered with the waves. He savored every moment, knowing it would be a long time before he got to see the ocean again.

  A familiar aura excited Jason’s senses. “Hello, Jeanette.”

  “How did you know it was me?” she asked from halfway across the courtyard.

  “You forget I have the ability to sense people and Hell Spawn.”

  “How could I forget? It makes it impossible to sneak up on you.” Jeanette entered the alcove. “Am I bothering you?”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Good.” She sidled up beside Jason, slipping her left arm under his jacket and around his waist. “Hold me. I’m cold.”

  Jason wrapped his right arm around Jeanette’s shoulder and held her tight. She felt soft and warm against his body. Jason wished he could hold her like this forever. They watched the ocean together in silence for several minutes.

  “Can you sense anything out there?” Jeanette asked.

  “You mean Hell Spawn?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can only sense an aura when it’s within a mile or so. There’s no Hell Spawn within several hundred miles.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “The pulse that shut down the portal also killed every Hell Spawn generated by that portal. I doubt we’ll run into any demons until we get near Russia.”

  “Good.” Jeanette paused. “How long will it take us to reach Moscow?”

  “I figure about two and a half months.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It’s over nineteen hundred miles to Moscow, and the horses can only travel twenty-five miles a day. I need to make a stop along the way, but once we’re on the road, I plan on sticking to the highways since we don’t have to worry about Hell Spawn. Hopefully by doing that we’ll save time.”

  “What’s the detour?”

  “We’re going to see your uncle.”

  Jeanette pulled away from him. “You’re not planning on leaving me behind, are you?”

  “I wouldn’t even think of it.”

  “You’d better not.”

  “I want . . . I need you on this expedition.”

  Jeanette beamed and wrapped her arm around Jason’s waist again, this time placing her head against his shoulder. “Why are we stopping by Uncle Reno’s?”

  “First, I want you to see him one more time before we begin this trip.”

  “And the second reason?”

  Jason leaned his cheek on top of her head. “I need to ask a favor of him.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The search and destroy team had gathered in front of La Mere Poulard a little after seven the next morning to prepare for departure. They each wore new green flight suits, the typical uniform of the protective force. The girls who tended the stables had brought up their horses and helped mount the saddle bags, ensuring they were tied down properly and the weight evenly distributed. Neal took responsibility for securing the antimatter devices, which were packed in specially-designed saddle bags. He loaded two of the devices on his horse. Jason, Slava, and Sook-kyoung would carry the remaining three. As the others finished readying their horses, they chatted with each other or with the well-wishers who had gathered to see them off.

  Jason had already attached his crossbow and FAMAS to his horse’s saddle and had strapped the machete to his right leg. He now stood to one side watching his team, with Lucifer and Lilith curled up at his feet. He compared their morale now to the day close to a month ago when they had set out for Paris. Back then, they all had been sullen and morose, believing they were embarking on a desperate mission with little hope of success, and viewing their effort as a suicide attempt. This time, his people possessed a sense of hope and optimism because each of them thought . . . no, each of them knew they had a good chance to save the world. None of them accepted this undertaking with visions of wealth, fame, or glory. They knew closing the remaining portals was the right thing to do. The best word Jason could find to describe what they were about to undertake was quest. It sounded melodramatic, but somehow it fit.

  Jason stepped forward. Lucifer and Lilith got to their feet and followed. As he made his way through his group he called out, “All right, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time to mount up and move out.”

  His team said their final goodbyes and climbed into their saddles. Jason mounted his horse and, after ensuring the others were ready, spurred it forward. One by one they exited through Boulevard Gate in the outer wall, passed by the Guard House, and descended into the bay. The tide would not flow back in for several hours, giving the team plenty of time to cross. Lucifer and Lilith raced ahead, chasing each other along the sand and splashing through puddles. When the team reached land, they maneuvered their horses up the embankment and onto the road leading inland. Up ahead lay the refugee encampment that had developed around the motels once used by tourists. Half as many displaced persons lived here as compared to a month ago, most having moved to nearby farms to begin their new lives; the rest would join them in the coming weeks. As they passed, several scores of people came out to wave, applaud, and cheer them on. Jason felt self-conscious, but gestured back out of politeness.

  Slava pulled up on his right side and Haneef on his left. Slava waved to the crowd. “It seems we’re popular.”

  “They’re grateful,” said Haneef. “We made life better for them.”

  “Do you think we’ll get the same treatment when we reach Russia?”

  “We’ll see when we get there,” said Jason. “Keep in mind we’re not on a victory tour. Remember the Latin Proverb: Unless what we do is useful, glory is vain.”

  “Where did you hear that?” Slava asked.

  “My mother taught it to me.” Only now did Jason understand the full impact of the words.

  “Haneef, what does Islam say about glory?”

  Haneef leaned forward so Slava could hear. “The Koran says that anyone who seeks glory should do so for the glorification of Islam.”

  “All right, I get it.” Slava chuckled. “You’re both telling me more guts, less glory.”

  Jason reached out and tapped his friend on the shoulder. “We’re all going to need more guts before this is over.”

  At the crossroad in front of the encampment, the team veered left. Lucifer and Lilith scampered up to the head of the column and fell in beside Jason. Lilith shook herself, flinging off water and loose sand. Lucifer wagged the stub of his tail as he trotted alongside his master. As the group entered the tree line, Jason caught a final glimpse of Mont St. Michel, knowing it would be a long time before he ever saw the town again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The first night, the team set up camp twenty-five miles east of Mont St. Michel in an abandoned farm they stumbled across an hour and a half before sundown. Jason assigned everyone a task. Jeanette, Sook-kyoung, and Vicky led the horses to the stable and made sure they were fed and settled in for the night. Ian and Werner gathered wood and brought it to Gaston, who started a fire and cooked dinner. The rest to
ok their supplies into the farm house, with Neal and Jason handling the five devices. Lucifer and Lilith stayed near Jason, at least until they got a whiff of baked beans and canned meat being grilled, at which point they switched their attention to Gaston. Lilith curled up on the opposite side of the fire waiting to be fed and Lucifer sat to the cook’s right, begging with huge brown eyes.

  Dinner was simple but pleasant, and the conversation light-hearted. The newcomers chatted excitedly. Being the first time in months that they had been away from the island city, they let their enthusiasm show. When Ian rambled on about how much fun this was, Antoine glanced down at his plate and shook his head, and Reinhard and Haneef made no effort to hide their contempt. Jason understood how Ian felt. Newcomers always had a sense of excitement about combat that dissolved upon encountering an enemy. Jason had felt the same the first time he had gone on a search and destroy sweep with Andre. His giddy anticipation of battling Hell Spawn transformed into sheer terror when a pack of Nachzehrer ambushed the team. One of them had pinned Jason to the ground, tearing at his face with decayed fingers and trying to bite off a chunk of flesh. He would have died that day if he had not overcome his fear and fought back. From that moment, Jason knew that combat was not about glory and adventure, but about overcoming your fear and struggling to survive. He considered trying to dissuade Ian and the others of their fervor and thought better about it. The best way to temper their eagerness would be to let them take on the Hell Spawn and to experience the sobering reality of war. Before that happened though, he would make certain Reinhard trained them over the next few weeks so that, when the newcomers did encounter their first demons, they would live through the ordeal. Besides, Jason had something more important to discuss with the group.

  As the team finished dinner, Jason sent Neal off to get one of the antimatter devices. “Before we settle down, I want to discuss overnight sentry duties.”

  “Why do we need sentries?” asked Werner. “I thought there weren’t any Hell Spawn out here.”

  “There aren’t, but there are other things we have to be concerned about, like wild animals and looters. We’ll be fine with two-man shifts of two hours each. Neal and Sook-kyoung will take the watch until eight, Reinhard and Werner until ten, Slava and Gaston until midnight, Jeanette and Vicky until two, Antoine and Ian until four, and me and Haneef until dawn. We’ll keep that schedule every night until we reach Russia or run into Hell Spawn. Is everyone good with that?”

  His people responded in the affirmative.

  “Good. There’s one other thing before you go. You all know we’re going to close the Hell Gates. You also need to know how we’re going to do it.”

  Neal opened the flap on the saddle bag and pulled down the sides, revealing a pad of dark gray foam rubber two feet square. Placing his hand on the ends, he wiggled the top half until it slid off, exposing the antimatter device nestled inside. It had the shape of a football but was twice as large. The outside cladding was stainless steel. A one-inch rim ran along the length of the device which allowed the two halves to be joined together with more than a dozen bolts.

  “That’s what’s going to close the portals?” asked Vicky.

  “Yes,” Neal answered. “The device contains solidified antimatter. The outer casing disintegrates as it passes through a portal. Once the antimatter inside the device comes into contact with the antimatter in the portal, they’ll cancel each other out and blast the gate shut.”

  “Not only that,” added Jason. “When the portal collapses, it emits a pulse that kills every Hell Spawn that crossed through it into our realm.”

  “And this works?” asked Werner.

  “It should,” said Neal. “It’s a replica of the device we used in Paris.”

  “Nobody was hurt by the blast?” Gaston asked.

  “No,” Neal answered. “There are no high explosives involved, so there are no shock waves or shrapnel to worry about. There is a concussive force when the pulse generates that will knock the wind out of you for a few seconds, but won’t do any permanent damage. We were all within fifty feet of the blast and we’re fine.”

  “You said it contains an antimatter core.” Ian crossed the circle and knelt in front of the device, examining it. “Why doesn’t it consume itself?”

  Neal shrugged. “Doc knew all the details about that because he and Jason’s mom were the ones who invented it. All I can tell you is that they found a way to convert antimatter into a solid. A chunk of it sits at the center of the device in a vacuum inside a thick glass sphere. It’s held in place in the center of the vacuum by magnets surrounding the sphere, which is why the device is so large. They produced six of these. We used one in Paris, so that leaves five more to be used against the other four gates.”

  “What happens if the magnets fail or the glass sphere breaks?”

  “I wouldn’t want to be the one carrying the device when that happens.” Neal’s attempt at humor failed when he realized he carried two of the saddle bags on his horse.

  “How do you deploy it?” Ian asked.

  “That’s the easy part,” Jason answered. “Any of us can use it. All you have to do is throw it into the portal. Once it hits the surface and disintegrates, it detonates automatically. As long as one of us is alive, we can shut down the portal.”

  Jason let that sink in with those joining the team for the first time before continuing. “One more thing you newbies need to know. The reason the devices work is because the portals are all one way. The entry portals into Hell are created where the antimatter experiments occurred. We’re not worried about those because nothing can pass through them from Hell onto Earth. Our concern is with the exit portals that allow everything from Hell to cross over into our realm. Anything that tries to cross these portals into Hell is destroyed. So for God’s sake, be careful. If you get close enough to deploy a device, throw it in. If any part of your body touches or passes through the portal, you’ll lose it. Understood?”

  Jason received four nervous replies. Good, he thought. If they’re scared then they’ll stay on their toes.

  “Okay, everybody get some rest. We’re up at six and move out at eight.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The journey to Reno’s underground bunker an hour south of Notre Dame de la Garenne took five days. Jason’s team arrived mid-afternoon, with Jeanette leading the way so as not to alarm the sentries. Because Jason had visited the installation twice before, he knew what to expect. As they crossed the farmland surrounding the site and emerged from the overgrown grass that had enveloped the area, the guards in a pair of well-camouflaged Humvees on either flank of the bunker entrance trained their weapons on the potential threat. After a few seconds, a voice called out from the copse of trees.

  “Jeanette, est-ce vous?”

  “Oui, Marceau. Jason et les autres sont avec moi.”

  “Vous pouches approcher.” Marceau called over his shoulder to one of the sentries. “Aller chercher Reno.”

  By the time the team had reached the bunker entrance and dismounted, Reno had made it topside. Jason recognized Reno the moment he stepped through the open door. He was in his early fifties, with a well-toned physique, graying hair, and a five-o’clock shadow. His brown eyes were serious and intense. This time he seemed less stressed. Reno ran up to his niece and threw his arms around her, hugging her tight. “Jeanette, it’s so good to see you again.”

  The young woman hugged back. “Same here, oncle.”

  “I miss you so.”

  “I’m in good hands.”

  “I know you are.” Reno broke the hug and stepped over to Jason. Jason offered his hand. Reno took it, and then pulled the teenager in to him, wrapping his arms around Jason’s back. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Thanks.” Jason self-consciously returned the embrace. Jeanette enjoyed his discomfort.

  Reno stepped away from Jason and waved to the rest of the team. “Everyone come inside. I’ll have the cooks prepare us dinner. I’ll even have them whip up s
omething for Lilith and Lucifer.”

  At the sound of his name, Lucifer wagged his stub of a tail.

  “There’s no need for that,” Jason protested. “I dropped by so we could discuss business.”

  “We’ll discuss business after dinner.”

  “I don’t want to be an imposition.”

  “Far from it.” Reno placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder and urged him toward the bunker. “Ever since Paris, most of those who used to live in the bunker moved out. Only a handful of us stay here now. I’ll enjoy the company.”

  Jason knew when to admit defeat. “I appreciate it.”

  “Then it’s settled.” Reno leaned to one side and called out to Marceau. “Mettez les chevaux dans l’écurie et d’apporter leurs sacs à dos à l’intérieur.”

  “Oui.”

  As Marceau took care of the horses, Reno led the others down into the bunker.

  ***

  As promised, Reno’s cooks prepared a dinner for the Hell Gaters that was more like a feast. There were not as many people residing in the bunker as the last time Jason passed through, although those who remained made every effort to make his team feel welcome. The cooks had broiled a pair of steaks for the werehounds, who devoured their meal and now sat near Jason gnawing on the bones. Everyone had a good time except for Vicky, who sat at the far end of the table silently picking at her meal.

  Jeanette talked about her new life as one of the Hell Gaters and living at Mont St. Michel. Reno asked a lot of questions, happy with the way things had panned out for her. Once they had exhausted that topic of conversation, she asked the question that had been bothering her all night.