That went well.
Now comes the hard part.
The cable was short, only ten feet long. The rest of it was still coiled around the winch. Once the helicopter got low enough, the pilots would extend the cable.
Then they’re gonna swing me around like a vinegar-soaked conker.
Fuck my life.
Vamps, Rave, Ginge, if you can see me now, you better not be laughing.
The gate was directly below. Mass strained his neck to get a look at it. It popped and hissed angrily, almost like it was aware of what was happening. The demons looked up to the sky and screeched. Somehow, they knew Mass was there, dangling in the sky two hundred feet above their heads.
Look all you want, bitches. Unless one of you has a jetpack, you ain’t getting this sirloin.
Mass had been given a radio. It was secured inside a pocket at the front of the harness. It crackled and Addy’s voice came through. “How you doing down there, mate?”
“Just hanging out. Everything going to plan?”
“We’re going to lower you down in front of the gate. I’ll stay on the line.”
Mass’s stomach lurched again as the cable unwound. At the same time, the helicopter descended. It was like free falling again, but this time he had more trust in the harness and the winch.
There was nothing to do but wait, so Mass filled the awkwardness by whistling. It was something he used to do a lot when he was bored as a kid.
Addy chuckled over the radio. “What is that? Lady in Red?”
“Was the first thing that came to mind. Got any requests?”
“We Are the Champions?”
“Seriously? All right, then.” Mass whistled the bits he knew and then fell silent. The gate was right below him now, just slightly ahead. Another ten metres and he’d be directly in line with the top of it. It was almost time.
Am I actually going to go through with this?
Yeah, and that’s why I’m so fucking terrified.
The demons beneath Mass thrashed wildly, reaching up at him despite him being massively out of reach. He felt like a chunk of meat being dangled above a horde of alligators.
“It’s go time,” said Addy. She sounded sad. “Still time to back out.”
“Just do what you have to do.” Mass reached up and switched off the radio. No goodbyes. No regrets.
Above him, the helicopter swayed to one side, swinging Mass on the cable. At first it was like being dragged, but then the helicopter swayed back the other way and Mass was swinging upwards like a child at a playground. The cable creaked and the harness cut in to his groin once more, but he held on tightly and reminded himself to breathe.
The helicopter swayed back and forth, back and forth. Mass was a pendulum cutting through the air. It was exhilarating, nauseating… and terrifying.
The helicopter banked, and suddenly Mass was swinging towards the gate. His eyes burned from staring into it, assaulted by colours and images that made no sense. A howling wind seemed trapped beneath its surface and it gave off a throbbing heat. It was a portal straight to Hell, and he was swinging right towards it.
Mass closed his eyes.
And passed through the gate.
Maddy slumped against a pile of pallets. She had nothing left. No more energy. Those still alive had been pushed right back to the docks, and the only things keeping the demons at bay were the ship-mounted weapons. Several boats had stationary machine guns, and some were able to direct their lighter cannons at the demons racing from the ruins. It would only keep the enemy at bay so long, but at least it gave people a chance to get onto the boats.
No one was trying to play hero any more. Even Frank had joined the evacuation queues. No one wanted to stay back and hold the line. People just wanted out of there before it was too late.
“We’re almost there,” said Tosco, standing beside Maddy. He was clearly unwilling to leave her. “Just a little longer.”
Maddy shook her head. “The boats should leave now before it’s too late.”
Crimolok entered the military docks, and those shooting from the boats instinctively shifted their focus to the larger target.
Demons were everywhere.
Sorrow did what he could. With his wings flapping, he rushed back and forth, trying to keep his brethren from making it to the last of the survivors yet to get onto the boats. They engulfed him like ants on a wasp, weaker as a species but more powerful in numbers. Sorrow was eventually brought down beneath the sheer weight of them.
Crimolok marched onward, reaching down and grabbing Klein’s train carriage from its resting place at the edge of the docks. The carriage was empty, but it was still horrifying when Crimolok tossed it into the air. The glass and steel tube hit the deck of a Royal Navy frigate like a missile, obliterating a hundred men firing from its decks.
Demons began tackling the men and women shoving their way towards the boats. They died screaming in agony, fifty feet from safety.
Crimolok scooped up an old van parked next to one of the warehouses and launched it at the same frigate he had already hit. The vehicle struck the upper structure of the frigate, taking out the bridge and toppling the conning tower. A fire broke out. Hundreds of people still on deck howled in terror.
Tosco was aghast. “You’re right, Maddy. Those ships need to get the hell out of here. The rest of us are doomed.”
The noise of metal scraping and engines firing drowned out the sounds of killing as the first of the ships began to move away, its captain smart enough to realise the same thing Maddy and Tosco had.
Tosco put his forehead against Maddy’s and held her. “Whatever happens, we stick together.”
“We managed to survive for so long, James, only for it to end like this. It sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.”
Crimolok continued throwing projectiles at the boats and the demons continued swarming. The ships carried on providing support, but more were starting to push away from the docks. There was no other choice.
Maddy saw Sorrow get back on his feet. A pile of demons lay dead around him. Before more could engulf him, Sorrow leapt into the air, wings unfurling like a bird of prey. To Maddy’s astonishment, he lunged at Crimolok. The giant roared furiously and swatted at Sorrow as if he were a fly. Sorrow was much smaller, able to dart around and avoid the blows. Several times he made a slice at Crimolok’s face, but it did no damage. Sorrow’s lethal talons were as ineffective as the ship’s cannons. At least Crimolok was distracted for the moment.
On the ships, men doubled down with their machine guns, slicing through the swarming demons. Some of the primates made it to the water’s edge, falling upon humans trying to get up the gangways. Many fought back with knives and empty rifles. There were no cowards in Portsmouth, but at the rate things were going, mere minutes remained before everyone not on board a boat would be dead.
Crimolok roared triumphantly, snatching Sorrow out of the air and gleefully tearing off the smaller demon’s wings. Then he tossed Sorrow to the ground and raised a massive foot to crush him into the dust.
Maddy couldn’t take her eyes away from the scene. Seeing Sorrow torn apart could be the final atrocity before she met her own end, a parting horror before oblivion.
Crimolok paused, balancing on one leg as he hesitated. He seemed confused, almost like he had suddenly realised he’d forgotten something.
Maddy swallowed the lump in her throat. What is he doing?
Slowly, Crimolok lowered his foot and turned around. Then, in an inexplicable move, he stomped away, picking up speed until he was sprinting back through the ruins of Portsmouth like a raging bull.
19
Something is wrong.
A part of Crimolok shivers, a sense to which he is a stranger. Something beneath his conscience is crying out.
His tether is under threat.
Something is trying to interfere with his plans. His enemies seek to weaken him while his back is turned.
The gate.
His en
emies are fools, not knowing the futility of what they do. Yet they cannot be ignored. He will find them and eviscerate them. They will pay.
Portsmouth is finished. His legions will destroy what is left. Crimolok turns and heads for the gate.
Mass sees Hell. He sees what Vamps must have seen. Fire and flesh. Burning. Screaming. Oozing blood. Twisted monsters. Cancers and boils grow from every surface. It goes on forever. An eternity of pain and misery.
Then he sees the star-filled night sky. He sees autumn trees and black roads illuminated by the glowing of the gate. He is swinging backwards, away from the lens. Back out of the gate.
Then his movement stops and he is suddenly swinging forward again, speeding towards Hell for a second time.
No, please, I can’t!
Mass passes through the lens once more and is back in that place of agony and despair. Somehow it is even more terrifying as he hears the most pitiful of moans. People cry out for mercy, millions of desperate souls. Hooks tear at their flesh. Insects burrow into their eyes.
And then he is out again, swinging through the starry night.
“Nothing’s happening,” said Addy’s voice through the radio on his harness. She sounded confused, desperate. “You keep coming back out. The gate isn’t closing.”
Mass couldn’t take another dose of Hell. He couldn’t go back willingly now that he had experienced it. Universe be damned. “Pull me up, pull me up.”
Immediately the cable yanked him upwards, the helicopter banking to the left and whipping him away from the gate just as he was about to pass through it a third time.
There were tears in his eyes and his body was trembling. His heart thudded in his chest. He realised he had wet himself.
He didn’t understand it. Every time he’d seen a person pass through a gate it had instantly exploded, taking out any nearby demons along with it. He had never seen a person pass in and out before. What had gone wrong? What was he missing?
Smithy came on the radio. “Big man, your plan ain’t working.”
“I know. Damn it, I know.”
“What you want us to do?”
“Just pull me back up. Please, get me out of this harness. I can’t breathe.”
“Okay, buddy. Hold on.”
The cable shortened. A minute later, Addy and Smithy were yanking him back inside the helicopter. Smithy slammed the sliding door shut behind him.
Mass slumped onto one of the benches and vomited. Addy rushed over and rubbed his back. He was quaking. “Mass, what’s wrong?”
“He stared into the abyss,” said Angela, standing at the rear of the cabin. “No one gets a dose of Hell without at least puking. It gets better after a while, but the first time is always the worst.”
Mass straightened up and wiped his mouth. “She’s right. It was… No, you don’t need to know. I’m glad I’m out, but what went wrong?”
Angela shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Crimolok isn’t your regular demon and this ain’t your regular gate. Living souls aren’t supposed to pass through the seals, but I don’t think this gate is one of the seals. It’s not a lock like the others, it’s a doorway. You can’t break a doorway.”
The living Damien emerged from the cockpit, his messy brown hair stuck to his clammy forehead. He looked curiously at Mass. “This gate leads to Hell though, right? Whatever it is, it’s part of the tapestry. All gates are.”
Smithy frowned. “Part of the what now?”
“He said the tapestry.” The undead Damien stepped forward and scratched the back of his shaved skull. “Think of it like the universe’s transport system. During this war, you’ve gotten pretty good at destroying the odd country road here and there, but this big sonofabitch is a motorway. It’s going to take something stronger than a single human soul to put it out of commission.”
Mass clutched his stomach, trying not to puke again – trying not to think about the things he had just seen. He would never unsee them. “What will it take?”
The two Damien’s looked at each other. The living Damien sighed and said, “The soul of a path walker would probably do it.”
Smithy frowned. “A what now?”
The living Damien went on. “If a path walker passes through a gate not summoned by themselves or other path walkers, then…”
The dead Damien finished the sentence. “Then shit gets fucked up.”
Addy folded her arms and huffed. “Sounds like the best plan we’ve had all day.”
Mass collapsed on the bench and threw back his aching head. “Looks like I’m the wrong guy in the right place. Where do we find a path walker?”
Both Damien’s looked at one another. Neither looked happy, but only the living Damien spoke. “You’re looking at two of them.”
Smithy was still struggling to understand, causing a delay they couldn’t afford. “So, if one of our Damiens passes through the gate, it will, like, blow the back end out of the universe?”
The living Damien grunted in frustration. “It’ll tie the tapestry in knots, breaking the connections between different worlds. It would make it impossible for Crimolok to ever leave here and attack God. Whatever few remaining Earths that are left would be safe. Heaven would be safe.”
Smithy nodded. “But we’re screwed either way, right?”
Mass sighed. “We were screwed the moment the first gate opened, man. This mission was never about saving us. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, at least we had fun, right? We gave the bastards hell. You jumped out of a helicopter and pissed yourself.”
Mass looked down at his wet trousers and blushed.
Angela tittered.
“I need to go down on the winch,” said the living Damien. “Same movie, different actor.”
One of the pilots shouted back, “Better do what you’re doing quickly because we’re running out of fuel.”
Mass groaned. “Typical. Okay – take two. Let’s get moving.”
The living Damien stood in the middle of the cabin and held up his arms. Harry and Steph helped him get into the harness. “That too tight?” Steph asked him.
“A bit.”
Harry grunted. “Man up, soldier.”
“Do you want to do this.”
Harry chuckled. “I most certainly do not.”
“Okay,” said Damien a moment later, “I’m ready.” He looked at Mass. “Is it really that bad?”
Mass couldn’t even give a reply.
Damien took it for the answer it was. “Great, well, hopefully Angela is right and it gets better. Maybe I can get a position on the board and campaign for change.” He chuckled at his own joke, but it came out as an emotionally fraught squeak.
“You’re a better Damien than me,” said the dead Damien, offering a handshake.
The other Damien went to take his counterpart’s hand, but Smithy yelped, “Don’t! If you two occupy the same space, won’t we all implode or something?”
Addy groaned. “They’re not time travellers, you idiot. They aren’t the same person.”
Smithy looked at the two nigh-on identical young men and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“We’re not the same,” said the dead Damien. “Two sides of the same coin, maybe, but still different. As I was saying, this Damien here is a good bloke. I’m better looking.”
The two Damiens completed their handshake, and the one in the harness stepped up to the sliding door.
“Ready?” asked Harry.
“Yep! What the hell.”
Harry threw open the door.
Damien turned back and eyeballed Smithy. “No one push me, okay?”
Smithy held his hands up and stepped away.
Unlike Mass, Damien wasted no time. He took one step forward and was gone, plummeting out of view. The winch clunked. The cable went taut. When Mass had fallen it had felt like a minute went by before he had felt that life-saving jolt.
Harry got on the radio. “Damien, you good?”
“Never better. I see the gate. It�
�s to my right.”
The pilots confirmed their intentions and started to manoeuvre the helicopter.
“Almost there,” Damien said through the radio. Just a bit more and I’ll be— Oh shit!”
The helicopter lurched. It was as if gravity had suddenly increased tenfold and they were falling out of the sky. The pilots cursed and fought with the controls. Something yanked the cable. The winch groaned and clunked.
Harry shouted into the radio. “Damien! Damien, are you okay?”
There was no reply. Mass rushed over to the open doorway and leaned out. Damien was no longer on the end of the cable. It had snapped and was now dangling weightlessly in the wind. Something had happened. Something had snatched Damien out of the air.
What is happening? Where did he go?
Mass sensed movement to his left, to the rear of the helicopter.
Crimolok raised a giant fist and swung at the helicopter.
The boats were leaving en masse. Only a few remained, their captains either stupid or brave. The demons came in droves, although they seemed unsure since their leader had sprinted away into the distance. Maddy still didn’t understand why Crimolok had fled.
Tosco had rallied a group of men together, bringing them into a tight group. Everyone was armed with blades or clubs of some fashion, which were mostly empty rifles. Some had picked up sheets of metal or scraps of wood to use as shields. It was ridiculous, but at least they weren’t completely unarmed.
“The closer we push together,” said Tosco, “the harder it will be to knock us down. There aren’t many primates left. We can fight the burnt men with what we have if we stick to the plan. Shoulder to shoulder, swing and stab.”
A demon staggered towards the group and the men put their orders into action. A woman hiding behind a sheet of metal peeked out and planted a long kitchen knife in the burnt man’s skull. It dropped like a lead weight. The woman removed her knife and got back behind her shield.
Hell On Earth (Book 6): Rebirth Page 31
