Hell On Earth (Book 6): Rebirth

by Wright, Iain Rob

  Rick came and sat beside Mass on the grass. The peculiar man had lingered on the periphery for the last hour, staring off into the trees that bordered the field. Maybe he had demon radar. It wouldn’t be surprising.

  “Hey, Rick. What’s up?”

  “You will feel normal again soon,” he said, and then added context. “I used life itself to heal you, which is why you felt so virile, but it has worn out your body’s reserves and you need rest. Tomorrow, your strength shall return.”

  Mass nodded as if he understood, though he didn’t really. “Thank you for what you did, Rick. We only met the once, and you were a weird dude then, but now… you seem different.”

  “I am different.”

  “So what the fuck are you?”

  “An angel. An angel that brought you back from the brink of death. God’s miracles exist, even now.”

  “An angel? I thought the angels were all a hundred feet tall.”

  “In their true forms, yes. This is not my true form.”

  Mass waited for more but received only silence. “Okay then. Good talking with you, man. Maybe when you get a minute, you can—”

  “These men plot,” Rick interrupted, staring at the assembled tents. “It pains me to see no change in humanity.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Rick turned his gaze to Mass. “But you have changed, haven’t you? You are a better man than you were. Did you follow your friend’s example, or was it always in you?”

  “Huh? You mean Vamps? Yeah, maybe it was him that caused me to change, but…” He shrugged. “I dunno, I kind of want to think it was all me. I grew up in a bad place surrounded by bad people. It’s like being in prison. You can try to do good, but as soon as you do, you hit bars. Eventually, you stop reaching out and just accept your life inside a cell. If the end of the world did anything for me, it got rid of those bars.”

  Rick nodded. “I understand. Thank you.” He stood up and walked away, back off into the field.

  “Weird bloke.”

  Cullen caught Mass’s eye from the next tent over, and his friend mouthed a word. It was unclear, but it seemed like he was saying ‘be ready’.

  Colonel Cross appeared in front of Mass, unarmed and alone. “Can we speak for a moment, Mass?”

  “Yeah, no probs.” He stood with effort, bones creaking. “Shit, I feel like a bus hit me.”

  “I expect you’ve been though the mill. We can talk here if you’d like, but I thought it would be best to be away from anybody earwigging.”

  Mass put his hands on his lower back and groaned. “I doubt you plan on sharing anything good. Let’s go over here a bit, but not too far. I don’t trust you.”

  Colonel Cross didn’t appear offended. In fact, he chuckled. “I’ve been told you were smart. Looks like it’s true.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as smart, but I wasn’t born yesterday, Colonel, that’s for sure.”

  “Please, just Tony. I’m not even a colonel. I’m a sergeant at heart.”

  That made sense. Nothing about Colonel Cross suggested officer. He was a rough, no-nonsense type who seemed uncomfortable with formality. He reminded Mass of someone: Sergeant Honeywell.

  Hope you’re somewhere back with your family, Rich.

  “Okay, Tony, let’s get this over with before I collapse.” Tony reached out to help Mass, but Mass waved him away. Slowly, they walked twenty metres from the nearest tent. “So what do you want to speak about, Tony?”

  “Amanda Wickstaff.”

  “First name basis, huh? You must have made quite the—”

  “She’s dead.”

  Mass stumbled. Fortunately, Tony steadied him before he fell, which was good because he might not have made it up again. He glanced over at the tents, wondering if anyone had seen his weakness. It seemed like the coast was clear. “What d’you mean, she’s dead? She can’t be. I don’t believe you.”

  “Your man Cullen will confirm it for you. He’ll also confirm that she was murdered by my superior, General Thomas.”

  “Who?”

  Tony sighed. “We can get into that later, but right now you need to know that I’m on your side. The men I brought with me aren’t though. They were ordered to find and kill you. They still expect to carry out that mission.”

  “What the fuck? Why?”

  “You were loyal to Wickstaff, and somewhat of a legend in Portsmouth. That makes you a threat to Thomas’s leadership.”

  “A legend? A threat?” Mass shook his head. “I can barely walk. This is unbelievable. Wickstaff’s really gone?”

  Tony nodded.

  “And some old prick has taken over Portsmouth?”

  “Yes. Thomas was the commanding officer of what remained of our overseas forces. He returned to reclaim Great Britain.”

  “So where do you come in? Why are you helping me?”

  “Because my days of killing on command are behind me. If I hadn’t arranged for Cullen to meet me on the road, you would already be dead. It’s created a stand-off, but my men will pull the trigger soon. They’re just waiting for the right moment, and then they’ll kill me too.” He peered at the tents. This time, every man was watching. They were too interested in what should have looked like a simple chat between two men. Tony turned back to Mass. “Thomas blamed Wickstaff’s murder on a demon that came to tell us you were in trouble, and about a place up north called Kielder Forest.”

  “Shit, David. Is he okay?”

  Tony shook his head. “Its – his – body was cooling right next to Wickstaff’s, part of Thomas’s narrative that the demons sent an assassin. Can’t question a dead demon.”

  “Nor a live one in most cases,” said Mass, wondering how much longer his legs would keep him upright. “No offence, Tony, but you’re a right soddin’ downer. Do you have any good news? Tell me they’ve opened up a strip club in Portsmouth. Tell me they reopened McDonalds.”

  “I’m sorry, pal, but all I’ve got is bad news. The only good thing is we got Maddy out of the city before Thomas killed her too.”

  Mass pinched his nose and let out a sigh. “Shit, I didn’t even think about her. Maddy and Wickstaff were close.”

  “Yeah, that much was obvious. Thomas planned on making her go away, but I got her out of there. She went north with Commander Tosco, hoping to find this settlement in the north. Are you aware of it?”

  “Aware, but not convinced. David spoke about it – said there was a bunch of people holed up in some castle. I hope he was right, but me and my team never made it much further north than where we’re standing now.” Mass took a breath to summon strength, then told Tony about Nas and the farm they’d stumbled onto after being ambushed. He had lost most of his team but rescued a group of abused women. It wasn’t a total loss.

  Tony shook his head in disbelief. “Even now, bad men can’t help themselves. That’s why it’s so important for you to survive, Mass. You and your people are the good guys. Take your men and get out of here. Go north and look for Maddy and this settlement in Kielder Forest. There needs to be a force remaining besides General Thomas. He’s a tyrant that cannot go unopposed.”

  “No way, mate. I’m heading straight to Portsmouth to take his ass out.”

  “That would be extremely foolish. Thomas arrived with fifteen thousand of his own troops, and I imagine he is already politicking to gain the loyalty of Portsmouth as a whole.”

  Mass clenched his fists, and even that hurt. “He needs to pay. Wickstaff was no friend of mine, but I respected the hell out of her. She earned her place as leader, and I won’t let some old-world elitist claim her place because he thinks he’s entitled to it.”

  “I’ll handle General Thomas,” said Tony. “Diane and Commander Klein are both on board with removing him, but it’s a long game and we need to be smart about it. Your talents are more of the—”

  “Shooting things in the face variety?”

  Tony put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not knocking it. My nature is no different, but I h
ave direct access to Thomas; I need to be a little smarter than I’m naturally inclined to be. You can live to fight another day, Mass. If Diane and I fail at ridding the world of Thomas, there needs to be somebody left to oppose him.”

  Mass sighed. Tony could be right. All the people Mass cared about were here, more or less, so why shouldn’t he leave? Did he really want to take them into danger? If a group existed in the north, then finding them was important enough to delay a reckoning, at least for a while. There was a bigger picture to think about.

  That didn’t stop me from killing Vamps and opening a giant gate. I’m not a big picture kind of guy.

  Mass hadn’t yet explained about the giant demon, and incredibly no one had asked. Things had just happened so quickly. He decided to explain now, but Tony held up a hand and stopped him. “We can talk things over and over, but right now, there are twelve men who are planning to shoot you. When they realise I’m not going to give the order, they’ll go into business for themselves. You and I need to make a plan before then and be ready.

  “Okay, if you have a good plan, I’m ready to hear it.”

  Tony nodded. “I do have one, but it’s not foolproof.”

  “Then I guess we’re a bunch of fools. What are you thinking?”

  Tony told him. “How sneaky are you?”

  Tony lay in his tent, wide awake. His watch told him it was after ten, but no one really knew the time any more. He was knackered, having walked many miles that day, but the real deadweight was Mass. The muscled young man seemed exhausted to the point of coma.

  After speaking with him earlier, Mass had become inexplicably weak, and Tony had needed to help him back to camp. Cullen and the others had taken him into their care, and he was now sleeping in a guarded tent. Eventually, Tony had ordered his own men to bed down for an early start, designating four sentries to keep watch in two-hour shifts. Eight hours of rest in the open was dangerous, but also peaceful. Birds chirped in the nearby trees, and somewhere a fox gave a demented mating call. Nature was alive and well, and so were they for now. The demons hadn’t found them hiding, which suggested they had continued down the road. Were they heading to Portsmouth? Was that giant monstrosity bringing war?

  Of course it is.

  During the camp’s brief downtime before bed, one of Mass’s guys, Smithy, had told Tony about a massive gate opening, and the giant beast that had come through. The lad had been reluctant to share more, ending the conversation with, “Just demon funny business, ain’t it?” Whatever the cause, a giant gate was bad news. The demons were back in force, and they had a leader. In the Middle East, the enemy had always been at its fiercest whenever led by one of the fallen – large, terrifying beasts that some claimed to be former angels. The one Tony had seen earlier on the horizon had been three times as big as any he’d ever seen. And it was likely to be a lot more than three times as dangerous.

  Tony heard snoring from the nearby tents. Not from every man, but a few. The only people not in sleeping bags should be the guards on duty, but Tony could sense creeping footsteps coming from several directions. It might have been Cullen and his men – they were free to do as they wanted – but he doubted it. This was his own men sneaking around. They were preparing to make their move.

  No one had built a fire – it was mild, and they didn’t want to risk giving away their location – but despite the lack of firelight, a shadow slid over Tony’s tent. It was cast by the unobscured moon. He held his breath as someone pulled down the zipper. A face appeared in the gap. It was Sergeant Pearson.

  “Colonel, you’re needed outside.”

  Tony sat up as much as his small one-man tent would allow. “What’s going on?”

  “You need to come outside, sir. We’ve spotted a threat.”

  “Demons?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tony shuffled out of his sleeping bag and crawled out of his tent. For a moment, it was pitch-black, but then his eyes adjusted and revealed the shapes of several men. His entire team was awake, rifles at the ready. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Why is everyone—”

  “This way, sir,” said Pearson. “Right over here. There’s something at the treeline.”

  Tony hurried between the tents to the edge of the camp and searched for the trees, but it was too dark to see. No one had spotted a threat. It was a lie. Tony froze, not daring to turn around. “Sergeant Pearson, you have a rifle pointed at my back, don’t you?”

  “Nothing personal, Colonel, but I have my orders – and they supersede yours.”

  “Thomas ordered you to kill me?”

  “Only if it seemed like you were planning to spare our target. Mass is still alive, sir, last I checked. You’ve disobeyed orders. I don’t understand why, exactly, but that’s none of my business.”

  Tony kept looking forward, but he risked a dismissive chuckle. “A dozen Urban Vampires joined us on the road. The mission got risky. What would you have done, Pearson? Drawn weapons and gunned them all down before they had a chance to react?”

  “Exactly, and that’s what’s about to happen. I just wanted you to see the job done properly before I shoot you in the head. Turn around, Colonel. Slowly. Hands on your head.”

  Tony turned, fingers laced behind his skull. A rifle pointed at his chest, but he tried to ignore its presence. “This is a mistake, Pearson. We shouldn’t be taking each other out. Thomas is a danger to us all, and you’re doing his bidding.”

  “I’m just following orders. If we don’t obey the chain of command, we’re no better than the demons.”

  “I’m your superior officer, Pearson. Obey me.”

  Pearson sneered, his thick black stubble now almost a beard. “You might call yourself a colonel, but we both know it’s a sham. Now, be a good boy and pay attention.”

  Tony watched, a grim feeling in his guts as the mutineers moved between the tents, pointing their rifles at the canvas walls. They planned on killing Cullen, Mass, and the rest of the Vampires in their sleep. Tony could shout a warning, but it would make no difference.

  Pearson kept his eyes on Tony and gave the order. “Fire at will, lads.”

  Muzzle flashes lit up the night, illuminating the camp and tearing up the darkness. Tony saw shadowy lumps inside the canvas tents and winced at the damage being caused. He called out, begging Pearson to stop. Eventually, the sergeant put up a fist and called a halt. “Enough! Check the tents for anyone still alive; we’ll have some fun with them.”

  Tony flexed his fingers behind his skull, scratching at the back of his neck, so angry that he needed to claw at flesh, even if it was his own. “You’re a piece of shit, Pearson. I didn’t know for sure that you would actually go through with it, but you did! You’ll regret this butchery.”

  “Really? When will I regret it, exactly? After you’re dead and I’m pissing on your corpse?”

  “I think you’ll regret it sooner.”

  Shotgun blasts lit up the darkness at the edges of the camp. Pearson’s men – for they had never been Tony’s – panicked as two of their number collapsed to the ground with gunshot wounds. Wraiths emerged from the shadows, blindsiding the men and making them panic. Within seconds, Pearson’s soldiers were lying on the ground moaning, unconscious, or dead.

  Tony yanked the 9mm semi-auto he’d tucked into the back of his collar and, at the same time, shoved away the rifle pointed at his chest. Before Pearson could react, Tony had the handgun placed under Pearson’s chin. “Drop it, Sergeant, or I’ll drop you.”

  Pearson ground his teeth, but he did as he was told, tossing the rifle down at his feet. Someone tried to get up a few feet away, but a vicious kick put them down again. Tony looked around, genuinely surprised at how smoothly things had gone. “Cullen? You there?”

  Cullen stepped out of the darkness with a satisfied grin on his face. “I thought you said these were Thomas’s best? Are you okay, Colonel?”

  “Call me Tony. I’ve officially resigned my commission. Thomas can shove it up his arse.�
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  Cullen chuckled. “The Urban Vampires are a little low on numbers, fancy interviewing for a job?”

  “Interview? Don’t I automatically qualify?”

  “Yes,” said Mass, limping into view. The guy looked half-asleep, but at least he was standing. “Welcome to the family, Tony. Now, what should we do with these naughty children?”

  Pearson put his hands above his head, but he scowled at Tony as he did so. “Put a bullet in my skull if you have to, but you don’t need to kill the boys. They were just—”

  “Following orders,” said Tony. “Yeah, I get it. The thing is, we’re doing things differently now. Mankind can’t only survive extinction, it needs to earn the right to keep existing. Killing a bunch of innocent people because your boss told you to ain’t gonna fly no more. We all need to take responsibility for our actions.”

  Pearson sneered. “Fine. How did you even pull this off? At least give me that before you kill me.”

  Tony raised an eyebrow at Mass. “Yeah, I’m still not quite sure how you did it? I never heard you leave your tents.”

  Mass shrugged his massive shoulders. “Told you I would handle it. We have a magician on the team. He can pull a rabbit out of a hat, heal a dying man, and make us invisible.”

  A familiar-looking man stepped out from behind a tent. He seemed uninterested in what was going on and spoke in an oddly detached manner. “I made no one invisible. I simply clouded the minds of those who might see. Mass and Tony, you are both needed in the battles ahead.” He looked at Pearson and wrinkled his nose. “You, however, are unimportant. I am dismayed to take part in this ruse, but it was necessary. Good men need to live.”

  Pearson seemed confused, but when he turned back to Tony, he was defiant. “So you’re throwing your lot in with a bunch of weirdos and rejects, huh? I thought you understood what was at stake here. Portsmouth needs to survive at any cost. Bad things happen in war, and the only thing that matters is which side you’re on.”