Hell On Earth (Book 6): Rebirth

by Wright, Iain Rob

“Vaguely.”

  “Okay, why don’t we start with your name then, and how you ended up in the road.”

  The woman pushed herself up a little higher on her elbows. She blinked as if trying to wake up fully. “The name’s Angela, former minister in the Church of England and drinker of vodka. I went to Hell for being a dyke. Anyone got a cigarette?”

  The weather was cooling. Nowhere was that more apparent than from the deck of The Hatchet. The sea seemed to leap up on purpose, aiming with the precision of a child’s catapult and hitting Maddy with its icy spray. The only colour was grey – grey boats, grey sky, grey sea. Grey mood. Maybe, once dawn broke, the world would bring back its colour.

  Maddy was surprised that tragedy could still affect her, that she could still grieve when there had already been so much death, yet she grieved fully. She’d fallen in love with Amanda Wickstaff. That son of a bitch Thomas had taken her away; a week ago now, but still heavy in the pit of her stomach.

  One day, I’ll kill him. I promise, Amanda, he’ll pay for what he’s done.

  “We’re here,” said Tosco, putting a hand on Maddy’s back and making her jolt.

  “Where is here?” she asked.

  “About twenty miles north of Newcastle. The demon messenger that Mass sent to Portsmouth spoke about a group of people hiding out in a forest west of here. Kielder Forest Park. We’ve delayed long enough. It’s going to be dangerous, but everyone is rested up and raring to go.”

  Maddy chuckled. Tosco’s attempts at pronouncing English locations was jarring – New Castle. Ports Mouth. She still couldn’t believe he’d abandoned Portsmouth to help her. The American had been in charge of half the fleet, respected and admired, but now he was drifting in the dreary North Sea, searching for a group of people who may or may not be hiding out in a forest.

  “I hope they’re still alive,” Maddy muttered, “and willing to receive visitors.”

  Tosco leant on the railing and gazed across the water to where England’s east coast waited to meet them. “Portsmouth can’t be the only place. There has to be more.”

  “Is that why you came? To find out?”

  He turned to look at her and seemed to struggle with something for a moment. “I came because you needed someone on your side, Maddy. I respected General Wickstaff, and I let her down. You warned me Thomas was a threat. I should’ve fought him the second he arrived.”

  Maddy sighed, feeling exhausted; so tired of talking, so tired of breathing. “You’re not to blame for this, James. Only Thomas is.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps not. We’ll drop anchor in thirty minutes and take a boat to shore. Most of the men will stay here with The Hatchet, but we’ll remain in radio contact.”

  Maddy pointed towards the blue and grey helicopter perched on the rear deck of the ship. “Can’t we use that to get where we need to?”

  Tosco shook his head. “We don’t have a lot of fuel. I figure it’ll be more useful pulling us out of a fire than taking us into one. If we need rescuing, someone will fly the bird to come get us. We also have the big guns on deck if we need to bring forth Armageddon.”

  “We’re a little late on that.”

  Tosco smirked. “Yeah, you might say we missed the boat.”

  “You Americans aren’t famed for your clever sense of humour.”

  “Hey! We made Frasier. That’s like the smartest comedy ever.” He started singing in an unexpected baritone. “Tossed salad and scrambled eggs.”

  “I was always more into Friends, but I withdraw my comment. Thank you, Tosco. Thank you for doing this.”

  “James, please.”

  She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Thank you, James.”

  “I’ll let you know when everything’s ready. Go visit the latrine, grab a bite to eat, and wrap up warm.”

  She saluted. “Yes, Commander.”

  “I’m an outlaw now. Captain will do.”

  Maddy chuckled and leant over the railing, staring out at the north of England, wondering how many people were still alive out there.

  Please, let it be thousands, all armed to the teeth and fearless.

  And let them be good.

  The Hatchet dropped anchor thirty minutes later just as Tosco promised. The frigate lurched slightly, but you could’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. Maddy had peed, eaten a protein bar, and was now togged in a thick US Coast Guard parka a friendly sailor had given her. She was warm, but she would’ve liked a pair of gloves.

  Tosco waited for her in the launch bay, standing beside a large dinghy with an outboard motor. He handed her a weapon, telling her it was a “P229R-DAK. Forty-cal. Full clip in the grip, but no spares. Don’t fire unless your life depends on it.”

  Maddy had trained with guns at Portsmouth, but this nondescript handgun was a new one for her. She eyed the slide and checked the safety. Then she shoved it muzzle first into the waistband of her jeans. “Thanks.”

  “James! I want to come. You can’t leave me here.” Alice appeared in the launch bay, looking as pissed off as teens were supposed to. Her blonde hair was tied up in a short bun, and she wore an oversized parka like the one Maddy had on.

  Tosco turned to the girl and sighed. “I’m not going to change my mind, Alice. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I can do dangerous. What I can’t do is being cooped up on this boat for days. I want to come.”

  “I promised your father I would keep you alive. Once I know it’s safe, I’ll send for you. Your days aboard a boat are coming to an end, I promise.”

  Alice looked like she might hiss at him, but she kept calm. “Be quick, or I’ll jump overboard and you’ll never see me again.”

  Tosco rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “It’s the end of the world. I’m allowed to be dramatic.”

  “Good point.” Tosco wrapped his arms around the girl and they embraced like father and daughter, which was heartbreaking in a way. Maddy wondered if Guy would have been happy or sad that his junior officer had taken his place in more ways than one.

  Alice left, and Tosco waved a hand at several men standing near the dinghy – as well as a single blonde woman who had a long, thin scar on her left cheek. “Our embarkation team,” Tosco explained. “The best The Hatchet can spare. You’ve likely already met.”

  Maddy nodded hello to each person. She recognised them all, having spent the last two days on board with them, but she hadn’t exchanged words. Too wrapped up in her own grief and anger.

  I should have made more of an effort. These people are risking their lives for me.

  No one chatted as they climbed aboard the dinghy, all serious, all professional. Maddy felt ashamed that they were being forced to leave their safety. There could be a hundred thousand demons on the coast, ready to tear them apart as soon as they landed.

  Tosco sat himself down at the front of the dinghy, while Maddy sat between a man and the other female on the team. They exchanged glances but said nothing. The launch bay doors opened. The sea spray flew in and battered their faces.

  “Okay,” Tosco yelled over the howling gust, “launch!”

  Four more sailors appeared and grabbed handles on either side of the dinghy. They heaved the tiny boat forward, shoving it down the steel ramp that led right into the sea. The movement began slowly, but the dinghy picked up speed, sliding faster and faster.

  And then it splashed down.

  The boat ducked beneath the waves for a second, only just staying afloat. Then it leapt up and surged forward as the pilot gunned the motor. They sped away from The Hatchet, rising and dropping as the frigid grey sea rolled back and forth. It was exhilarating in a way Maddy was no longer used to – she was having fun. It felt wrong, but also liberating.

  She sat and enjoyed the ride until they reached a small rocky beach where they tied the dinghy to a large section of driftwood before covering it in seaweed and branches, which was probably unnecessary, but Tosco said it would make him feel better. By the
time they finished, it looked like a disgusting sea creature had washed ashore.

  “Okay,” said Tosco, “I brought a compass just in case, but the plan is to follow the roads. We’re close enough that we should find signs pointing to this forest. You have them in the UK, right? Signs for tourist attractions, et cetera?”

  Maddy nodded. “I think they’re brown. Wouldn’t it be safer to stay off the roads though? We don’t know what the area is like.”

  “We’ll take things slowly. If it looks like an area is hostile, we’ll move into cover and try to find the way via our own devices. Let’s hope this group in the forest is large enough to have taken care of most of the threats. Wishful thinking, I know.”

  Maddy trudged along the pebbly beach. “Being hopeful never hurt anyone. Maybe we’ll find a fully stocked bar at the end of this beach.”

  Everyone chuckled, and it brought a little warmth to Maddy’s mood that she had managed to spread some mirth. Wickstaff was dead, yes, but she – and other people – were still alive. It wasn’t the end of the road for her yet.

  Might as well laugh while I can.

  They reached the end of the beach and found a sandy ditch abutting a narrow country road. A large green sign peeked out from an overgrown hedge and seemed to indicate a roundabout. A roundabout was a good starting point. Maddy pointed. “I say we head that way.”

  Tosco pointed his rifle left and right, surveying both directions. “I see no reason to disagree. Everyone, keep your eyes open and don’t engage unless I give the order. We don’t want to announce our presence.”

  One of the sailors ducked, alerting everyone and causing them to do the same. Even Maddy crouched and produced her handgun. What had the sailor seen?

  Tosco crab walked into the ditch at the side of the road. “What have you seen, Taylor?”

  The sailor pointed. At first Maddy saw nothing, but then she spotted movement in the hedges near the road sign. Everyone sighed with relief. Some even chuckled. Maddy joined them in their quiet laughter, but not because of anything funny. It was because of what had spooked them.

  The zebra had no business roaming the English countryside, but in a world full of demons, watching it stride casually from one side of the road to the other felt like a good omen – a sign that nature was reclaiming the land and refusing to be corrupted.

  “I guess there must have been a zoo nearby,” said Tosco, lowering his weapon and grinning.

  Two more zebras appeared to join the first. Maddy stood in awe for several minutes until they eventually disappeared back behind the hedges. It was only Tosco tugging at her arm that got her moving again.

  “Come on, we need to go.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Damien hacked off a branch and threw it onto his sled. He estimated around thirty in the pile now. It was getting harder to pull his load.

  The chippies can make a hundred arrows with this lot. Not bad for a day’s work.

  After all the fighting, it seemed incredible that he was doing something as mundane as collecting sticks, but he knew it was merely a calm before the storm. He was here for a reason. The fighting would begin again soon.

  It’ll only stop once one side has been destroyed.

  Damien pulled the sled through the treeline into the open meadow. He heaved his way towards the castle, which was more of a modern art structure these days. Various timber platforms and wooden shacks surrounded the ancient keep, many built into the stonework itself. People scurried around like busy worker ants, working together for a common cause, something the old, self-serving world had been in short supply of. One good thing to come out of the apocalypse was the demise of greedy corporations and wealth-obsessed consumers. People were just people again: neighbours, friends, farmers, and builders. If mankind survived, it had a chance of staying pure like this, but Damien feared it would quickly resume its trek along the rapacious road of progress.

  Perhaps things would be different this time. Mankind now knew, unequivocally, that there was a Heaven and Hell. In fact, if mankind had been better behaved, Hell’s army would have only been a fraction of its current size. The invasion might not have even happened. Humanity’s sinful behaviour had stocked the enemy with troops.

  Damien spotted his people – those he and Nancy had brought from Indiana – and headed over with his heavy sled. Sorrow could make himself useful and take the sled up the hill to the castle for him. While Damien was lean and healthy, his previous life of working at a bank had created a specimen averse to hard labour. Perhaps, once the memories of his previous life had fully faded, he would evolve, but right now he still pictured – and longed for – the days of sitting behind a computer screen sipping hot cappuccino. Mankind might have found purity, but that didn’t mean you stopped missing all of the sin.

  Sorrow noticed Damien approaching and smiled – which was an obscene gesture for a demon. His jagged fangs dripped saliva, and his leathery wings ruffled at his back. “Path walker,” he boomed, “how do you fare?”

  “I, um, fare well. How are you, Sorrow?”

  “I fear for the safety of my ward. The enemy seek to tear Scarlett limb from limb and feast on her organs. I do not like that.”

  Damien wiped sweat from his brow and looked around for Scarlett, who wasn’t there. “Yeah, well, it’s not all about Scarlett, you know? Everyone’s life is at risk.”

  “It is most definitely all about Scarlett. She must live.”

  Damien nodded. There was no point arguing with the demon. He was programmed like a Terminator to care only about his objective. Luckily, a side effect of Sorrow’s objective included killing any demons that showed up at camp.

  “Why did you come here if you want to keep her safe?”

  Sorrow’s wings unfurled, creating a breeze. “I brought Scarlett to this Earth to save her life. On her home Earth, there is a curse upon her. A curse that will give her less than one year to live. She is a being known as the Spark – a padlock placed upon the magics of the world – but here she is just a girl. A girl I must protect, even if I have to destroy everything else in existence.”

  Damien winced. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Let us indeed hope.”

  “Sorrow, do you have any sense of what the other demons are doing? Are we under threat?”

  “Absolutely, but I sense no demons in our immediate vicinity. The people here make preparations, and that is good, Path walker. I like it.”

  “Can you call me Damien, please?”

  “But you are more than a name. You are a powerful being, one of few remaining. Your survival is also important. Not as important as Scarlett’s.”

  Damien frowned. It was nice to hear that his death should be avoided, but he didn’t think he deserved to live more than anyone else. “Why is my survival important?”

  “Because path walkers hold everything together. For this reason, there were once many of you, but with Crimolok’s assault on God’s creations, few of you remain. You might even be the last.”

  Damien was about to ask more, but Scarlett interrupted them by skipping in their direction, singing “Get the Party Started”. Sorrow’s wings fanned out like a bird catching water. He even waggled his bottom. “My ward is here. Do not dare harm her.”

  Damien rolled his eyes and waved a hand. “Hiya, Scarlett, you all right?”

  “Just got off guard duty, because I’m, like, totally a soldier now. Just call me GI Jean.”

  “You are my ward,” said Sorrow, “not a soldier.”

  “And it’s GI Jane,” said Damien.

  Scarlett tutted. “Lighten up, you two. Sorrow, it’s okay to think about something besides my safety, okay?” The large demon attempted to argue, but she raised her voice and cut him off. “Seriously, relax. Oh, and Damien, Nancy wants to talk to you at the castle. Leave the sled with Sorrow; he’ll take it up for you.”

  Sorrow bowed in agreement.

  “Okay, cheers. I’ll see you both around.” Dami
en trudged up the hill towards the castle. He and Nancy had been in the thick of it for months now, helping to reclaim the entire state of Indiana from the demons before stepping through a gate and arriving in northern England. Lately, she’d been drifting away. Without the constant threat of violence, she’d grown distant and brooding. Damien understood why. Fighting was a distraction, and now that it had stopped…

  Thinking sucks.

  Damien passed through the castle’s portcullis, getting that same tingling down his spine he always did whenever he walked beneath its metal spikes – an irrational fear that the gate would suddenly drop and impale him. Next, he headed through the courtyard towards the castle. The Great Hall inside Kothal was a meeting place, a collection of benches and chairs assembled in front of a broad, always-lit hearth. It was a safe place for people when the anxiety became unbearable or the spectres of the past got a little too loud. Nancy hung around there a lot lately, as if she dared not be alone. When she saw Damien enter, she smiled, but it was half-hearted.

  “Nance, you wanted to see me?”

  “I thought we could go for a stroll. I want to talk.”

  “Oh. Is something wrong?”

  “No more than usual.” She took his hand and led him back out of the castle. It made him chilly to step back into the autumn air after experiencing the warmth of the hearth, but he soon adjusted. They cut their way through the various huts and carpentry projects, passed through the sally port, and headed down towards the ten-foot outer palisade that had been constructed over the last few months.

  Damien looked at Nancy as they walked. “You wanna tell me what’s up?”

  She glanced around the no man’s land between the inner and outer walls and grew teary. “Sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It’s just… this place.”

  Damien couldn’t help putting a hand against her cheek. “What’s wrong with this place?”

  “The children. I can’t bear it.”

  It made sense. It did. “The children remind you of Alice and Kyle. That must be difficult.”

  “When the war first started, I thought there was no hope for any of us, but then we saved Indiana. Then we came here and found even more survivors. We lost so many people, Damien, but this place is proof that more made it. What if… what if…?”