Adrenal7n

by Russ Watts

  “Damn.”

  Lulu hadn’t even noticed the others joining her by the window. The vista was so incredible, so breath taking, that she had been mesmerised by it. She had never seen such destruction on such a vast scale. Lulu saw Lissie take the whiskey from Carrington, swallow a mouthful, and then hand it back to him.

  “That’s messed up,” said Lissie, wiping the wet corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. She turned away from the window. “Tony, you found it yet?” she asked urgently. “How the hell do we get out there?”

  “Over here,” said Bashar. “I’ve found a doorway.” The door had the words ‘CAUTION – HIGH WIND AREA’ written on it in giant red letters. He pushed at it and at first it wouldn’t budge, but as he pressed against the cold wood he felt it slowly begin to move.

  Tony joined him and began to push against it. The door began to open and the noise of the helicopter rushed through it toward them accompanied by the cold night air.

  “Over here,” shouted Tony.

  Lulu raced over and helped to open the door. The three of them managed to get it open enough to squeeze through, and Lulu slipped through the narrow opening. She looked out to the landing pad.

  “It’s here,” she said smiling. “It’s landing.”

  “Everyone, follow Lulu. This is it. Be careful.” Tony began to help Lissie through. “I didn’t get you here just for you to trip and fall twenty floors. There’s a nice soft landing on a thousand zombies down there, so let’s all be real careful now.”

  Lulu looked behind the door to find two bodies, explaining why it had been so hard to open. With the door propped open she stepped clear of the opening and looked at the helicopter. Barely thirty feet away she saw the first soldier jumping down out of it. He carried a machine gun and as soon as he was on the landing pad took up a position at the edge with his gun pointed at Belphegor. Lulu held out a hand and helped Lissie through.

  Tony pushed Marama and Rad through, with Carrington next. Tony took the whiskey from his hands as the man ventured out into the cold.

  “I think you’re done with that,” said Tony, tossing the whiskey away.

  “I can hardly believe we made it,” said Bashar, as he passed through the doorway to the narrow corridor. He helped Tony through and looked at the helicopter. There were three armed soldiers watching the approaching demon, and a fourth jogging over to them with his head down. Bashar looked at Tony. “You can do the talking.”

  “Not me, him,” said Tony as he shoved Carrington forward.

  The soldier reached them and offered a hand to Carrington who shook it. The soldier seemed to recognise him and wasted no time with small talk. The urgency in his voice was clear for everyone to hear.

  “Sir, are they here?”

  “No, it’s just me. Unfortunately the PM’s family are gone. I’m all that’s left.”

  The solider nodded. “Well we’re pleased to see you, sir. Regrettably I have to inform you that the PM was lost. His car was attacked and he didn’t make it. As you know, that puts you in charge. We have to get you away from here, it’s not safe. The Duncan was lost as well but the HMS Defender is on her way. We should be able to rendezvous with her in the Channel. It’s vital that we get you on board, sir. We must go now.” The soldier cast an auspicious glance around the rest of the group as he talked to Carrington. “Are these civilians with you?”

  The crackle of gunfire exploded as the men around the helicopter began to fire. Belphegor roared as their bullets ripped into him. Bashar saw the fog rising, creeping up the building and beginning to cover the helicopter. As before, the spinning rotor blades had no effect on it.

  “Sir, we must go now.”

  Carrington nodded. “Quite, yes, of course. But we need to get these civilians out of here.”

  “Very well. Everyone, follow me. Stay low and do exactly as I say. If we get another crack at the bloody monster we’re going to take it. If not then we have reinforcements on the way. Ground support is close and the HMS Defender is sending in another attack chopper. We’re still armed sir. We’ll take care of this.”

  As they ran out into the open, Bashar felt nervous. This was it. They were finally getting out of London. He was sure he could contact Nurtaj from the ship in the channel. They had made it. He looked at Tony holding Lissie’s hand as they ran across the landing pad. He saw Marama supporting Rad and even Lulu seemed relieved. Belphegor was close, but not close enough to attack them, not yet. His tail whipped through the air and smashed through Southwark Cathedral, sending huge blocks of masonry into the air. One of the monster’s feet crashed through the central transept and the tower crumbled. Its gothic spires collapsed inward, disappearing into the fog by the east end of the cathedral. Belphegor roared and took another giant step toward the Shard. The soldier hadn’t been joking when he said they had to leave. The foggy air was settling over them like a blizzard. Quickly, the air seemed to get lumpy, cloying, as if it was too thick to breathe.

  She’s trying to slow us down, thought Bashar. He pulled his shirt up over his chin and mouth.

  She’s waiting.

  The woman’s voice rang out crystal clear in his head, cutting through the din of the gunfire and the demon’s roars. It was as if whoever spoke to him was standing right next to him. Bashar saw Carrington climbing on board the helicopter and then it all stopped. In an instant the fog disappeared. It simply blinked out of existence. The others stopped running and the soldiers stopped firing their guns. The helicopter’s blades kept turning and Belphegor kept approaching, but he suddenly seemed placid. His roaring stopped. Bashar tried to move, to get to the others, but his feet were stuck to the ground. He couldn’t move. It was as if the world had stopped turning.

  “You weren’t planning on leaving, I hope?”

  Bashar had forgotten about the witch. He had been so swept up in the rush to get to the helicopter, his head distracted by the constant threat of the zombies and the demon destroying London, his thoughts firmly focussed on Nurtaj and the loss of Neale, that he had forgotten all about her. To his left, in the shadow of a crescent moon, the woman with red hair began to slowly descend. Her arms down by her side, her legs together, the woman levitated ten feet above the landing pad. Her pale skin seemingly glowed in the dark as she cast off the black robe from her shoulders. Silently, it fluttered down and landed in front of Bashar as the woman hovered in the air.

  That’s what you wanted isn’t it, he thought. You were just playing us all along. She’s outwitted us.

  Carrington slumped back into the helicopter with a soldier at his side. Tony and Lissie had stopped a few feet short, with Lulu right behind them. Bashar forced his eyes to move around, though they felt like they were covered in sludge. He wanted to rub his eyes open but his arms were like dead weights, the muscles like rubber, and his fingers as dexterous as a blunt eraser. Belphegor was so close now that Bashar could feel the demon’s breath. He was just beyond the witch, waiting, his chest rising and falling heavily. The demon was patiently waiting for something, like a domesticated dog, though Bashar knew not what. All it would take was one blow from the beast, one charge with those horns and the Shard would fall along with the rest of London.

  Bashar watched the witch twist her head around and smile. It was the smile of someone who knew they had won, who had accomplished their mission with such ease they could afford time to sit back and watch as their enemies squirmed and writhed in agony on their way to death.

  Bashar felt his head drooping. It was heavy and his limbs ached. Although lying down to rest felt like an attractive option, it would inevitably end in obliteration. Bashar tried to stir his fingers to life, to grasp firmly the meat cleaver that dangled so delicately between them, yet he could no more take a hold of it to strike the witch than he could look at her. He reminded himself that Nurtaj was still waiting for him; that there was more to this than himself and his weary body. Bashar could not move though and he saw that the others too were locked in a battle with their own bodie
s.

  The witch lowered her body down slowly until her feet touched the landing pad. She looked at Bashar and spoke slowly, carefully, as if speaking to a child.

  “Men are so weak, so easy to manipulate. There is no more need for man now. A cockroach has more to offer. I think that once my Lord has gorged himself on your frail bodies that we will have seen the back of you.”

  The woman had Bashar entranced. Her beauty was undeniable. Though he knew he would die if he touched her, Bashar wanted nothing more. Right then he would have given his life to have her next to him. As the woman raised an arm and pointed at one of the soldiers he found himself following her. The woman licked her lips.

  “Offer yourself to him,” she said, “and know that your sacrifice will be heralded amongst the angels who burn in Hell.”

  The first soldier raised his gun to his head. Bashar wanted to shout at him to stop, to tell him to turn the gun on the witch, but all he did was watch as the man pulled the trigger and blew his own brains out.

  The witch turned her hand to a second soldier. He was frozen on the edge of the building, his eyes transfixed on Belphegor.

  “Go to him.” The woman’s smile spread as the soldier dropped his gun and walked forward, straight off the building. He fell to a grisly death several hundred feet below and yet the man never screamed or said anything, but simply disappeared into the fog. The woman then pointed to the third soldier. Bashar never heard the woman say a word, but he too dropped his gun and walked over to the helicopter. When he was beneath the spinning rotor blades the witch closed her eyes and spread her arms out. The soldier copied her and then Bashar saw light beneath the man’s boots and the ground. He was drifting up into the air and Bashar felt nauseous. The soldier was looking up at the approaching rotor blades with what appeared to be a grin.

  This can’t be happening, thought Bashar, this just can’t be. She can’t end it like this.

  Yes I can.

  The woman’s words echoed around Bashar’s brain as he watched the soldier stretch his arms up high above his head. His hands were the first to be obliterated, the fingers sheared off, followed quickly by the man’s hands as he rose higher into the air. The soldier didn’t plead for his life or attempt to stop his deadly upward trajectory. As his own blood splattered his face the soldier kept grinning. Bashar saw the arms go next, the bones cracking and splintering easily as the man’s elbows disintegrated. Bashar wanted to look away, but couldn’t. As much as he tried to turn away, it felt like someone else was forcing his head back so he had to face it, to see what was happening to the man.

  I have enjoyed watching you run like ants across a burning field. But the time for games is over. He is ready.

  The helicopter’s blades took off the man’s head and then began to scythe through his body, sending pieces of flesh and oceans of blood across the whole landing pad and side of the helicopter. The body quivered and shook as it was destroyed, and yet continued its absurd ascension until there was nothing left to destroy. Bashar felt warm chunks of flesh hit his cheeks, yet he was powerless to avoid it. Only when the last of the soldier had been diced into small slivers of meat and bone did the woman turn back to Bashar.

  “Stop this,” he said, spitting the soldier’s blood from his mouth. Suddenly the force holding him still was gone. Bashar felt his muscles relax and the warm fuzzy feeling in his head dissipated. He became aware that the meat cleaver in his hand would reach the woman quickly. All he had to do was take her by surprise. “Stop.”

  “Go on, use it,” said the woman, looking at Bashar.

  She knows what I want to do, thought Bashar. Her voice was soft and inviting, her tone casual as though she had done nothing more than ask him to make her a cup of tea.

  “I’ll stop. All you have to do is kill me. Take my head off.”

  Bashar swallowed and looked at Tony. He was still frozen next to Lissie. They all were: Carrington and the soldier just inside the helicopter with Rad, Marama and Lulu a few feet away. Even the pilot sat at the helicopter’s controls. They were watching, fully conscious and aware of what was going on, but unable to move.

  As the witch took a step toward Bashar so too did Belphegor. Bashar raised the meat cleaver. Not only had he been released from the spell that she still held over the others, but Bashar almost felt like he was being willed on, as if she was urging him to lift the cleaver and use it against her.

  “Right here.” The witch drew a pointed finger along her neck, the fingernail tracing across the black scar that twisted and curled around her otherwise perfect neck. As the tip of her finger gently brushed the scarred flesh she shuddered and cocked her head to one side. She brushed away her long hair to reveal her graceful neck. “Right here,” she whispered.

  Bashar noticed the demon behind her watching, his red eyes staring without blinking. The woman was ravishing, bewitching, and Bashar felt his arm rise. He could probably take her head off with one blow. He could see it in his mind, see the blade severing her head swiftly, ending the madness. With the witch gone, Belphegor would be an easier target. There was no doubt she was protecting him. But without her control what would the demon do?

  Bashar sniffed and inhaled the scent of the witch. There was a sweet smell about her, like lavender, and yet something horrible too. It reminded him of home, of the war in Syria when he had walked through the rubble of a neighbouring building, pulling out the remains of the dead. It was the smell of evil and death, and the end of days. It was a smell that made him want to not only kill her but hurt her too. He wanted to maim her, scar her, and drag her into a prison cell where he could torture her forever.

  “No, I can’t.” Bashar lowered his arm. “I’m not your puppet. You want to die, kill yourself and take that demon back to Hell with you. I’m not here to work for you. You’re just a witch. You have no right over any of us. I’m not playing games with you anymore.”

  “Witch?” The woman’s smile faded. “Oh, I am much more than that.”

  Bashar felt his arm go numb and again he was under her spell.

  “You think that this is just me against you? That I am but a witch?” The woman spat the last word out scornfully. “Witches performed tricks. They suffered for their art, for what they did, but they did not truly understand the full possibilities of their power. I have realised it. My sisters were murdered before they could appreciate what was at their fingertips. Murdered by man, hung or burnt alive. Eighteen of my sisters fell. I am here to avenge them and bring to fruition what they were doing before they were so cruelly cut short. Over three hundred and fifty years ago my family was butchered. The power I have now is greater than anything you can imagine. I return life where there was death, and have summoned up one of the seven great Masters. You stand in front of me and say I am just a witch? I am made of flesh and blood like you. My heart beats and my lungs inhale the stinking oxygen that pollutes this planet. But I am nothing like you. I have given my soul to Belphegor so that he may live again. My unfortunate sisters were unable to summon the power I now hold. Obviously I need to make you believe, so that you finally understand that I am more than them, more than a witch. I am second only to our Lord. I will show you just what I am capable of before you die. Allow me to demonstrate.”

  Bashar felt his neck twisted sharply to face the helicopter. Rad took a few steps toward the centre of the landing pad. His legs moved jerkily as if his body was being controlled by another force. For a moment Bashar thought the boy had turned, become another zombie, but his eyes were full of fear. The dead showed no emotion, experienced no fear; Bashar knew the witch was making him move. Despite what she insisted, he had no other name for her. She could protest all she liked, but she was still just a witch, albeit one with delusions of grandeur.

  Lissie let go of Tony’s hand and walked over to Rad. Bashar could see her fighting it, but she was unable to stop herself. Tony wanted to stop her too but he was rooted to the spot. Bashar could see fear in his eyes and thin bubbles of spit escape his lips. Ton
y wanted to scream, to run to her, but the witch was in control now.

  “Stop,” muttered Bashar. “P… please.”

  Too late.

  Facing each other Rad looked at Lissie and tears began to roll down her eyes. Bashar’s heart was pounding. He tried to break free from her spell, but his legs refused to work. He had no option but to watch what happened, powerless to intervene.

  Lissie trembled as the witch abruptly took up into the air and began circling her and Rad. The woman bit her lip so hard that it began to bleed, and then landed behind Rad.

  “Now!” the witch screamed.

  Rad lunged forward and sank his teeth into Lissie’s neck. A thin line of blood jetted out from her artery as Rad pulled his teeth back, bringing soft flesh and tissue in his jaw. Lissie stayed perfectly still as her jugular began to spout blood all over Rad. Her body trembled and her bladder weakened, but under the witch’s power she remained standing.

  “Again.”

  Rad unwillingly stepped forward and grabbed Lissie’s shoulders. With blood dripping down his chin, Rad sank his teeth again into Lissie’s neck, twisting and turning his jaw like an animal, tearing out her throat. Bashar tried to close his eyes but he couldn’t even blink. The witch was not just cruel but sadistic. She enjoyed watching the suffering, the torment; she relished the pain and Bashar knew she wouldn’t stop until they were all dead. Nobody was going to die quickly under her spell. He should have killed her when he had the chance, yet he suspected if he had then Belphegor would be unleashed. She did have power, not just over the dead, but over the demon. She had summoned him and until she released him, he was doing her bidding. Was it better to face the demon or the one that controlled it?