Adrenal7n

by Russ Watts

  Bashar forced his eyes to refocus on the helicopter. Tears of rage fell from Tony’s eyes. He was helpless to save his wife. Bashar thought of Nurtaj. Would she suffer a similar fate? Would she be torn apart too? When would this pain stop?

  Never.

  The witch looked at Bashar. “I know what you think, what you want. You are but a baseless creature, capable of primitive thoughts and actions. You really think that you can beat me? Others have tried before and failed.” The witch ran her fingers around the black scar that ringed her neck. “Do you not see? You should relinquish your soul to Him. You must understand now that you cannot defeat me. I am flesh and blood, true, but if you were to kill me you would only release Belphegor. He will only truly be freed with my death. Did you really think I was going to let you kill me?”

  The witch laughed and then floated over to Bashar. “I am tiring of you,” she said, sighing. “I think it’s time to end this little game.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The witch flicked a finger in Rad’s direction and he grabbed Lissie’s hands. Rad began to drag her toward the ledge. Her body was motionless but she was still conscious. Bashar could see her trying to speak. Lissie’s fresh blood had soaked into Rad’s jumper and a large part of her soft flesh was still in his mouth. Bashar felt his body tense as they neared the edge of the building. Slowly, Rad dragged Lissie closer and closer until they were both at the lip of the landing pad. Bashar watched with horror as Rad scooped Lissie up into his arms and then walked straight over the edge. He simply stepped off, taking them both plummeting down to the ground in silence. Bashar wanted to fall to his knees and beg for the witch to stop, but he knew it would be no good. He hated her for everything, for killing Lissie and Neale, for killing London and for denying him one last chance to see Nurtaj.

  She’s waiting.

  “You know, she really is,” said the witch. “Bashar, your friends are dying around you and all you can think of is your wife. Pathetic. I will get to her in turn. I let you have your fun, running around London, but I can’t really let you reach her. After London has been reduced to a city of the dead I shall take Belphegor with me and crush the rest of the country. I think I should start with a certain lady called… Nurtaj. What do you say? Perhaps I should kill her and feed her to my demon Lord. He does so enjoy fresh souls.”

  “No, no, no.” Bashar raised his arm, the meat cleaver in his hand. “Lissie did nothing to you,” he shouted, his spit flecking the witch’s face. “She didn’t hurt anyone. How many innocent people do you have to murder before you’ll leave us be? I won’t let you.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows. “You did well. I see with a little motivation you can break free of my spell.”

  Bashar managed to take a step forward to her, though it felt like he was pulling his legs out of quicksand. “I’m not that stupid. I know you have lessened your hold on me. You pretend you’re through playing games but I think you’re only just beginning. This is your way of toying with me, playing with my mind. I am not going to die today, and neither is my wife. You’ve done enough.”

  The witch giggled. “Really? The speed that you’re moving I think I will be able to avoid you and that blade.” She laughed again. “Bashar, look at me. I promise you that Nurtaj will suffer. I think it is time to end this now and any dreams you have of killing me. Your time is up. In a moment I will unleash Belphegor on this place and let him take you all.”

  The witch walked to Bashar with the helicopter at her back. She stopped inches away from him and looked up at the meat cleaver dripping blood. “Okay, you caught me. I thought I might let you go and watch you chop up your friends. But really? After everything I’ve done you think I am going to let you kill me with that? I see you still need convincing.”

  The woman smirked and closed her eyes. Bashar saw Marama walk from the helicopter over to them. Her eyes were full of terror and as she reached them she stopped, raised a hand to her throat and drew her knife across her throat.

  “No, stop,” pleaded Bashar. “Wait, I’ll—”

  “Not yet.” The witch plucked the knife from Marama’s trembling hand. She had dug the knife in deep enough to draw blood, thick and red that gushed from the wound. The witch took the knife and slowly inserted it into Marama’s ear. Once the tip of the knife was in, the witch jammed it hard and penetrated the brain. Marama twitched, rolled her eyes back in her head, and then crumpled.

  “I don’t usually get my hands dirty, but Belphegor appreciates me so much more when I am able to give him a pure soul. She will serve Him well.”

  Bashar looked away. Marama’s lifeless body made him ache, ache with pain and hurt, and a longing to kill the evil woman doing this. He wanted to take the meat cleaver and do to her what she had just done to Marama. Except no matter how hard he tried to lift it, the witch blocked him.

  “You see, Bashar, I was born to bring blood back to cover the Earth. I am here with only one aim — to bring forth Belphegor; the powerful, the oppressor and butcherer of men. I have collected many souls for Him, millions for Him to feast upon. But, Bashar, He needs more. The boundaries of this pathetic country won’t be able to hold him when he is unleashed. Earth will fall under his power and with my control I shall ensure that no living man is left on this desecrated place. I shall bring a new time, the time of Belphegor.”

  Sweat poured from Bashar’s head as he stared at the woman and tried to bring the blade down on her. He glanced over at the helicopter and the others, and then directed his eyes firmly back on the witch.

  “I will kill you for Marama, for Lissie, and for everyone else you’ve taken. Watch me.”

  The witch laughed and smiled at Bashar. “You still think you can kill me with that?” She licked her red lips and leant in to Bashar, so close that he could almost touch her. Her fiery amber eyes were locked on his. It was almost like two lovers staring into each other’s souls.

  Bashar hated being so close to her but he had to be; for this to end he was going to have to keep her attention just on him. As he looked into her eyes he knew she meant every word. She wanted to watch them all die in agony.

  “I will enjoy killing your cunt of a wife,” the witch said vehemently. “Belphegor is yet to feel the touch of a woman. Perhaps I will let Him use her first or perhaps I will let His brothers have her. The demons are on their way. Nobody can stop them. Belphegor is but the first. He will bring the others, show them the way and lead them down the path to utter darkness, to where they belong, back as kings upon the land. The souls of the dead will nourish Him back to me and when he is stronger He will show me how to bring His brethren to my side. And when Lucifer reclaims his rightful crown you will know that the games are finally over. Before the day ends, before the clock strikes upon the midnight hour, He will rise and you will cower before Him in subjugation, or you will offer Him your soul to feast upon until the end of your tormented days.”

  A cackle erupted from the witch’s mouth. “And you thought you could kill me with that blunt blade?”

  “No, I’m under your spell,” said Bashar. “But not everyone is as weak as me.” Bashar let a thin smile creep across his face as he stared at the witch. Her eyes were locked on his and as he spoke he noticed them flicker slightly. A frown spread across the woman’s beautiful face. “I don’t think that you—”

  The tip of the knife entered the witch’s neck and came out of the other side. Lulu rammed it through as hard as she could, forcing bright red blood to gush out of both sides. The witch gurgled and slapped Lulu across the face, sending her flying back to the helicopter. The witch’s eyes bulged and she stepped away from Bashar, her hands feebly clutching at the long knife lodged in her throat. She pulled at the serrated blade but it was stuck fast and the hilt of the knife was so drenched in her blood that there was nothing to get hold of. Bashar rolled his neck around his shoulders as he approached the woman who had fallen to her knees. He was free of her spell. His body was his own again.

  “You forgot that not every
one is susceptible to your charms. While you were gloating over me you didn’t see what I did. Lulu is just a girl and yet she is far stronger than you. You tried before, near Trafalgar Square, and you couldn’t control her then. Perhaps your power is not as strong as you think. Perhaps your Lord knows that you meant to control him. I don’t think you really thought this through, witch.”

  She tried to speak but blood erupted from her mouth, surging forward in a torrent over her tongue and down her pale skin. Bashar raised the cleaver as he stood over her. There was no smile when he spoke, no satisfaction. It had gone too far for that. Too many people had died. “This is where I find out if any of what you said was the truth. You told me that when you died, Belphegor would be released. Seems to me that without your power protecting him then he is just flesh and blood too, correct? Destroy the heart and you can kill the beast, am I right?”

  The witch blinked and held up her hands. She slumped on the ground, more blood shooting from her neck as it had done Lissie’s. Bashar shook his head. “No, you won’t be getting any mercy from me. She’s waiting. That’s what you told me. That’s what you’ve been telling me all day. Who else have you been toying with? It’s time to end this. It’s time for me to find my wife. I am freeing your demon. I am a fighter. I am Bashar. And this is my useless fucking blade.”

  The cleaver fizzed through the air as Bashar brought it down upon the woman’s neck as hard as he could. He could feel the muscles straining in his arm as he struck her. True to his aim, the blade sawed through the black scar around her neck and sliced off her head cleanly. The witch’s body fell forward, dead, and Bashar sniffed. The lavender smell had gone; all he tasted now was death. He reached down for the witch’s head, grabbing it by a handful of her fiery red hair. He turned the head around so he could see her eyes.

  “You still in there?” The witch’s amber eyes seemed to look at him and the eyelids fluttered briefly. Bashar turned the head around so the woman could see her own rendered body. “After I’m done hacking up your body I’m going to town on your demon. Then we’ll see who has the power, you bitch.”

  Bashar drew back his arm and flung the woman’s head high above him. He launched it into the sky like an arrow and it burst apart on the helicopter’s blades like a full bladder, showering Bashar with brains and gore. He sank to his knees and wiped the gore from his face. It was over. The witch was finally dead. Nurtaj was waiting for him. That was the one thing that the witch had said that he could believe in.

  “Bashar!” Lulu ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. “I didn’t know if you’d seen me.”

  “I saw you,” he said quietly. “I saw you.”

  “She had me at first, but after Lissie died I think she lost her focus. The more she crowed to you, the more I felt myself getting free of her power. I swear I thought she was going to turn around and see me the whole time. I thought she’d make me do stuff like Rad, like terrible stuff.”

  “She was too busy showing off.” Bashar stood and helped Lulu. Belphegor was silent, his eyes boring ahead and his face expressionless. Was the demon in shock? Was the witch right that with her death he would be released?

  A sudden explosion of gunfire from the streets shocked the beast out of its slumber. Belphegor roared and turned away from the Shard. Huge explosions rocked the building around it and then a missile form a distant helicopter exploded on Belphegor’s head.

  “Reinforcements?” Lulu shielded her eyes as she looked at the beast.

  “About time.” Bashar could see that the demon was free. Whether that was a good thing or not, he didn’t know. But at least it had been drawn back into a fight. The demon wouldn’t take the rest of the city or the country so easily. As Bashar saw Belphegor turn away he saw Tony standing at the building’s edge, staring into the abyss. “Lulu, get on the helicopter will you? Tell Carrington to get to the HMS Defender. And if you can see your way to firing a couple of missiles at that fucking demon then I’d be grateful.”

  “What about you?”

  “Let me talk to Tony. Just tell Carrington to get his pilot moving. If Belphegor suddenly decides to turn around and take down this building then we’ve nothing. I don’t know what we’ve done by killing that witch, but we’re going to find out pretty soon.”

  Lulu ran toward the helicopter as Bashar tentatively approached Tony. He didn’t want to startle him. The man was staring down, his head drooping. Bashar knew he was thinking about Lissie.

  “I’m sorry, Tony. I’m so sorry it came to this.”

  Tony said nothing. The fog around the Shard was receding and revealing the city below. Bashar began to see the adjacent buildings and streets teeming with the dead. The distant moon cast a luminescent glow over the city which combined with the fire to make it seem as if the city was awash with a golden flame.

  Bashar heard the whir of the helicopter behind him as the engine cranked up a gear. He was determined more than ever to find Nurtaj, but he couldn’t leave Tony like this. Gripping the cleaver tightly he looked across London as it burned, palls of smoke stretching high into the evening sky. Through the fading fog below Bashar could see orange fireballs glowing and crackling, muffled explosions sending vibrations throughout the building. The uppermost parts of some of the city’s skyscrapers still protruded proudly in the gloom, defying the inevitable destruction that would soon come to them. Down below were thousands of zombies. Across the city there were probably millions. They were trapped. Bashar didn’t know if Carrington could do anything, if there was much of an army left to fight Belphegor, but he had to hope. The witch had unleashed a monster upon them, a demi-God. Looking at the distant fighting, Bashar could think of only one thing: holding Nurtaj in his arms again.

  “I don’t blame Rad,” said Tony softly. “It wasn’t him doing that.”

  Bashar felt the air swirl around them as the helicopter took off. He put an arm on Tony to stop him from being blown over the edge. He looked up and saw the helicopter was only a couple of feet above the pad. Carrington was sitting up front with the pilot, and Lulu looking out of the side. If they were going to go with them, it was now or never.

  “What do you want to do, Tony?” asked Bashar. “We can go with Carrington now to the naval ship. We can make contact there with… well, with whoever you want to.”

  “She’s waiting,” replied Tony, as he turned away from the city.

  “Huh?” Bashar felt dizzy for a moment. With the witch gone it was not something he expected to hear so soon, especially from Tony.

  “She’s waiting,” said Tony again, as he began to walk toward the centre of the landing pad. There was so much blood that it splashed around his feet as he walked. “I heard it too. That witch’s voice? She kept saying it over and over in my head. I thought she might be talking about Lissie, but after I’d caught up with her the voice kept coming back and saying the same thing.” Tony picked up a gun from one of the dead soldiers and looked at it. Then he picked up the knife that Rad had dropped. “I heard everything she said. I don’t know who she is, but I’ve got two choices. I can sit here and mourn until that demon kills me, or I can do something. I know my Lissie wouldn’t want me moping around. I can’t bury her. I can’t do anything for her now and if I break down on this rooftop then I’m not going to be any use to you. I’ll do my crying later. I think we need to deal with that bitch’s legacy.”

  “Her legacy?” Bashar watched the helicopter rise into the night sky. At least Lulu was safe. At least Carrington could start to find a way to take down Belphegor.

  “Right. That witch mentioned her sisters. If there’s a chance there’s someone else out there waiting to do this and bring more of those damn demons back to my country, then I‘ll do whatever I can to stop them.”

  Lulu waved and smiled at Bashar as the helicopter rose higher into the black sky. After a moment it began to head south-west and it launched a single missile at Belphegor. As it was about to strike the demon, Belphegor dodged left. The demon crashed away from the Sh
ard and landed once more in the Thames. With the helicopter banking away to the south Bashar knew the demon would escape this time. He knew that once Carrington made contact with the HMS Defender then they would be back after it. The ground forces were not much more than a distraction for the demon.

  “It looks like the witch was right about that thing,” said Tony, as he made his way across the landing pad. “It’s free. It’s not under her control anymore. Who knows what it will do now.”

  Bashar caught up with Tony at the door that Lulu had wedged open. Were they really going back into the hotel, into the Shard? The only way out was down, down onto the streets to face the dead. Belphegor was somebody else’s fight. “Looks like it’s just you and me against the world,” said Bashar. He wiped his brow. Sweat and blood stung his eyes.

  “I’m with you, Bashar,” said Tony. “I heard you talk of your wife. You helped me find my Lissie. I think it’s time you found your Nurtaj. Maybe she’s still out there, waiting for you.”

  “She’s waiting, I’m sure of it.” Bashar spat out a lump of bloody saliva. “Let’s go kill the bad guys.”

  “An awful lot of zombies between you and her, Bashar, several thousand in fact; plus Belphegor and whatever else that witch conjured up.”

  Bashar nodded. “They can’t stop me now. I’m a fighter.” He glanced down at the meat cleaver in his hands, the blade dripping with coppery blood. “I’m going to get my wife.”

  As they prepared to enter the hotel lounge, a figure stumbled through the other door on the far side of the room.

  “Here they come,” said Tony through gritted teeth. “Fucking zombies.”

  Bashar lifted his cleaver, ready to destroy the first one. It had started already. How many more were coming up to tear them apart? Bashar steadied his hand and watched the zombie hurry into the room. Instead of rushing forward and running it through, Bashar was surprised to find himself joining Tony in helping the figure into a seat.