Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga

by Iain Rob Wright

  “Okay, you have my word that if you get us to the Turkish border, I will let you and your men go free.”

  “And you have my word that I will not kill you.”

  Tony smirked. “Good to know, Aymun.”

  From the demoralised look on the British soldiers’ faces, Ellis had just delivered the bad news about their upcoming trek. They were sitting in silence, heads in hands and glancing at the featureless desert as if it were some giant, sucking hole waiting to devour them. Ellis had retired to the edge of camp and was trying the radio.

  “Still no answer?” Tony asked.

  Ellis shook his head. “It’s like there’s no one on the other end. Do you think something is going on? I mean, more than what happened to us?”

  Tony sat down beside his Commanding Officer and crossed his legs. “It seems unlikely there’d be just one of those gates in the middle of nowhere. I assume there’re more. Perhaps that’s why no one is answering our calls: they’re all busy with their own problems.”

  “I don’t want any more of my men to die, Tony.”

  “No officer ever does. Things could have gone worse, you know? We’re lucky any of us got out of there alive.”

  Ellis sighed and seemed to think about it. “Are Aymun and his men leaving soon? We should depart at the same time, or they might regroup and ambush us.”

  “No, he’s coming with us.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “We saved his life. He wants to repay the favour by helping us through the desert. There’s an ISN stockpile. He said we can have it.”

  Ellis was silent, but eventually he said. “I’ve known you a year now, Tony, and in that time I’ve never seen you make a bad decision. If you think we can trust Aymun and his men, then I will back you. Maybe if I had trusted you earlier, the ambush wouldn’t have failed so miserably.”

  “If it hadn’t of failed, we’d all be dead. We wouldn’t have got pinned behind the hill, and that gate would’ve opened right behind us. Instead, it opened on top of Aymun and his men. One thing I’ve learned about war, sir, is that it rarely goes to plan.”

  “Huh, I suppose you’re right. Maybe Allah really does have a plan for us.”

  Tony pulled around his rifle and started disassembling it to clean it—best to do it now than later. “Well, if that’s true, I’d hate to see what He has planned for us next.”

  They rested as best they could during the morning whilst the heat was mild, but it was impossible to sleep, nor were they in any position to stay, so they got moving at noon. Within half an hour of leaving the stream, they were all sweating. The desert seemed to swallow them up, stretching on forever in every direction.

  Aymun led the way with his men, Ellis and Tony a step behind. The three Syrians chatted in Arabic, but Tony caught the odd word or two. They were discussing the gate and what had come through. That was good; much better than them discussing a plot against their current travelling companions. Tony reminded himself that the man was an extremist. It would be unwise to let down his guard.

  “We must walk one day before we find supplies,” Aymun told them. “We go slow like snails, or we will not last out the sun.”

  “How’re you sure the supplies are still there?” Ellis asked him.

  “Because only I and my men know about it. They all dead now except Majd and Sayid, so will be more than enough to get us to Turkish border.”

  “Good, good,” Ellis cooed. “Thank you once again for your help, Aymun.”

  Tony grunted and gave Ellis a look that screamed shut up. It was one thing to accept the help of the ISN soldiers, but another to kiss their arses. The men would lose confidence in their Commanding Officer if they thought he was pandering to the enemy. Although a majority of the ISN had fallen to the monsters from the gate, most of the British casualties had been at the hands of Aymun’s men. Nothing would make them friends, however much they acted otherwise.

  Tony dragged back a little and fell amongst the men. The best way for a Non Commissioned Officer to learn the state of morale was to mix with the unit. It didn’t take him long to discover that the temperament of the men bordered on panic.

  “I think it’s the end of the world,” said Private Harris, his large, square shoulders slumped. He’d been tossing his knife into the air for the last hour, letting it spin, and then catching it. The repetitive action spoke of a taut mind. “Those things came right from Hell. We all saw it.”

  Corporal Rose, a ginger-headed Scot, agreed. “Aye, they was demons all right. I hope for them they didn’t open a gate in the centre of Glasgow. They’ll piss themselves and run right back to Hell if they see some of the local split arses on a Friday night.”

  The men laughed. It was good to have a man like Rose in the unit—a guy incapable of taking any situation too seriously. The corporal could be bleeding from his neck and still crack jokes about not letting the alcohol in his blood go to waste.

  Private Harris noticed Tony walking nearby and quickly shut up, averted his gaze. It was bad form to complain on a tour—dangerous as much as it was insubordinate—and one man with a negative attitude could affect an entire unit, demotivate it into a listless squabble of unshaven men. Harris had been caught out, but there was little reason to blame him too much. They had all been through Hell, literally.

  “We all know that the situation is fucked up, Harris,” Tony said, “but we survived, didn’t we? You all went up against a bunch of monsters and lived to tell the tale. We saw them bleed; we watched them die. Don’t let them scare you because you don’t understand them. Wars are lost through fear. By the end of the Vietnam War, the Yanks were terrified to take one step in that jungle, but that won’t happen to us. We’re British soldiers, and we have ourselves an enemy. Our job is to kill it. The men we left back there in the desert are relying on us to feed those ugly fucks their own bollocks—and we will, I promise you.”

  A jubilant cheer roared from the men, which made Ellis and Aymun glance back over their shoulders. Ellis seemed bemused, not understanding what was happening behind him, but the ISN leader seemed to understand, and gave Tony a nod. The men would be looking to Tony for courage. If he was afraid, they would be afraid. It was his duty to show bravery and set an example, but the truth was that he was more afraid than he’d ever been. How long could he keep up the brave face? If he faltered, his men would die—for they were his men, not Ellis’s.

  Tony patted Harris on the back. “Harris, why don’t you tell the lads one of your stories. I swear you’ve had more lives than a cat.”

  Harris chuckled. “Okay, Staffie. Did I tell you about the time I ejaculated during a conversation with my mum?”

  The men laughed just at the premise.

  “No, lad. Let’s hear it.”

  “Okay, well, I was sixteen-seventeen and shagging this bird called Lisa. We was in my bedroom one Saturday afternoon, and she was underneath the duvet giving me head—the best I’ve ever had. Anyway, I’m just about to get there, getting ready to blow me load. My toes are going, and I start to moan. Lisa starts bopping up and down faster, working my balls with her hand. Then, boom! The bedroom door opens. Lisa leaps up out of the duvet just in time, as my dear old mum comes in. She wants to know what I fancy for dinner. Problem was that I had passed that point of no return. Lisa’s mouth had done the trick. So here I am, going off like a sprinkler beneath the sheets—having a giant sodding orgasm—and I have to hold a conversation with my old lady about chicken bloody Kiev. Lisa is laying next to me trying not to laugh her arse off. Anyway, the point of the story is that I blew my load while having a conversation about chicken with my mother. The moral is: always get a lock put on your fuckin’ door.”

  The men bellowed with laughter, and Tony knew he could leave them alone for a few more hours.

  They walked until nightfall, taking water breaks every hour, but even then, they were dry-mouthed and sweating. Now that night had arrived, they were all grateful to see the blazing sun recede. The men had shed their combat ja
ckets and now wore only their webbing over their undervests. Several times, Ellis tried to hail Command on the radio, but within the cradle of the desert, their calls went unanswered.

  Tony glanced around. It wasn’t the kind of desert that would typically come to mind, with endless dunes of golden sand—only hard-packed dirt beneath his boots, ranging from dark brown to bright orange. There was the odd patch of straw-like grass here and there, but no trees and no shade. Now and then he’d glimpse movement in the distance, but could never tell if it was animal, man, or mirage. They were alone, wandering through sun-scorched oblivion.

  “We cross river between Al Mayadin and Boqruss Foqani,” Aymun informed them. “There will be trees and water. Supplies are two miles past river. There we rest tonight.”

  The men muttered contentedly. No sleep in two days had left them looking grey and unsteady on their feet. They had avoided sunburn with the use of the cream in their packs, but the heat had sapped all but their last reserves of strength. Rest was needed, and if Aymun was true to his word, they would get the chance soon. Or they would be double-crossed and murdered. Both were appealing after having marched through a desert.

  They walked for about another hour before the hard-packed dirt softened into moist soil and green grass. The river was a half mile ahead and due east of the town Al Mayadin. Tony could see some of the taller buildings on the horizon and even caught the faint sound of a car horn. They had reached civilisation, but heading into the town would be risky. There was no one overtly friendly to the West in Syria and many who vehemently opposed it. It would be too much of a lottery trying their luck there. The British had refused to help the Syrian civilians against the rebels, so why should the Syrian civilians help the British? No, they would stick to the plan and keep heading north into Turkey.

  Tony spotted the men gazing into the distance at the town and was quick to distract them. “That’s not safety over there, lads. The ISN would be on us before we ever got chance to find help.”

  The men glared at Aymun.

  Tony sighed. “We have an eye on those three and we outnumber them. If they try anything they’ll regret it.”

  The men all nodded defiantly. They were almost beaten, but they would not go down without a fight. A doomed soldier was a dangerous soldier, so let Aymun try something if he dared. Not that Tony had any reason to doubt the ISN leader. So far, Aymun had led them around the settlements and alerted them whenever traffic appeared on the seldom encountered roads. Whenever he spoke, he did so in a friendly manner and showed no sign of contempt. Every bone in Tony’s body told him not to trust the man, but somehow he was starting to. He hoped he didn’t end up regretting it.

  They made it to the river. The moon was full, making the water appear as a twinkling silver strip. Tony stooped down on the bank and cupped water over his neck, giving permission for the men to do the same. They all lined up and cooled themselves down, drinking until they were full. The water was clean and fresh-tasting and led Tony to wonder what the Thames would taste like.

  “Should we camp here?” Ellis asked, deferring to Aymun.

  “No, we cross first, find supply cache.”

  Ellis needed to show authority, so Tony tried to help him. “Unless you want to camp here, Lieutenant? It’s your decision.”

  Ellis stuttered. “O-of course… erm, no, I think it would be wise to locate the supply cache first. We can rest after.”

  Tony saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Ellis returned the salute. “As you were, Staff Sergeant. See if you can find a good spot to cross the river.”

  “No need,” said Aymun. “I know place.”

  Tony found cause for concern. Was this the part where Aymun led them into a trap? But it turned out that the Syrian knew of a raft hidden in the reeds. He and his two men retrieved it from further down the bank and were quick to explain its origin. “In early days of war,” said Aymun, “Syrian forces patrol river crossings. Local people make this raft and hide for ISN.”

  Ellis frowned. “The locals helped you? Why?”

  Aymun smiled. “Because they believe in ISN, Lieutenant. You think they side with government? Ha! ISN what they want. We take power and bring back old ways. Ways that best for Syrian people, not rich men and politicians. People in Syria, they starve while others take what they have. The West attack our religion, take our oil, tell us how we must be. ISN say no. We will not be how they tell us to be. We will be Syrian.”

  Ellis was clearly dumbfounded. “But you people are savages. You behead your enemies, enslave your women, and kill children. Surely people don’t want that.”

  Aymun’s eyes narrowed. “We do what must be done to take back our country. In war, bad things happen, yes? How many children has British Army killed? Many, yes? Children die in war. Enemies suffer. Do not judge a man in war, judge him in peace. Once we have country back, we will feed poor, help weak, and make peace with neighbours, but not while puppet government still lives. ISN fight for Syrian people and Syrian way of life.”

  Ellis laughed derisively, which led to the Syrians on either side of Aymun to sneer. Neither Syrian spoke English, but they were smart enough to know they were being mocked.

  Tony stepped in before the accord between the two groups was shattered. “Aymun, I believe that you believe your actions are just. We believe the same of our own. Right now we’re friends, and later we may go back to being enemies, but for now, we must concentrate on what we set out to do. We need to cross this river and get to that supply cache. Whatever differences we have will wait for another time. You gave me your word that you would help us.”

  Aymun nodded. “I already tell you, Sergeant, that we have new enemy now; is stupid to fight you, but your leader is ignorant man. He stupid man.”

  Ellis went red in the face. “How dare you. I am a lieutenant in the British Army and you are my prisoners.”

  Aymun sneered. “We are no prisoner.”

  “No, you’re not,” said Tony, glaring at Ellis. “Aymun is here to help us, sir. We made a deal.”

  “They had the chance to leave, but they chose to remain under my protection. They placed themselves under my command.”

  Aymun faced Tony. “You give word you let me and my men go.”

  Tony nodded. “I did.”

  Ellis glared. “You did what, Staff Sergeant? On what authority do you make deals with enemy combatants? These men are my prisoners, and I decide what happens to them.”

  Aymun and his men shifted anxiously, and the British soldiers did the same in reply. Fingers slid towards triggers as everybody waited to see what would happen next.

  “I have been fair,” said Aymun. “You help me so I help you, but if we are still enemies, then say so.”

  Ellis flapped his arms. “Of course we are still enemies. You’re members of the blasted ISN. What would my superiors do if I shook hands with members of an enemy rebel force?”

  “Your sergeant wish to shake my hand,” said Aymun. “He is better man than you. He see. He see what is.”

  Ellis frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what is?’”

  “I mean we all must be as one to fight new enemy. Mankind must be an army. You do not understand. You are fool.”

  Ellis pointed his finger. “I am no fool.”

  Aymun sighed and turned his back. “You are fool. I leave, fool.”

  Ellis pulled out his handgun and pointed it at the back of Aymun’s head. “You stop right there. You are my prisoner.”

  Aymun’s two soldiers raised their AK47s and pointed them at Ellis. The British army raised their L85s in reply. A standoff ensued.

  Tony threw up both hands and stood between the two groups. The ISN were out-gunned two to one, but they would take a couple of British soldiers down with them before they bit the dust. That couldn’t happen.

  “Lieutenant Ellis,” Tony shouted, “the only priority right now is getting the men to safety. There is precedent for working with the enemy in times of exceptional circumstances, and I believ
e what happened at the border more than qualifies as exceptional. Over a dozen of Aymun’s men are dead. Command will consider our mission a victory, but we will be needed for the days ahead—all of us. We cannot afford to get involved in another fire fight. The ISN are considered an illegally occupying force, but we are not officially engaged in a war with them. Therefore, they are not strictly our enemies. We can work together peacefully as allies.”

  Ellis continued pointing his gun at Aymun, but his hand trembled. After several seconds, he lowered the weapon and placed it by his side. Everybody sighed with relief—even Aymun.

  “Everybody at ease,” Tony shouted. “Aymun, that means your men too.”

  Aymun nodded and muttered something in Arabic. His two men lowered their AK47s.

  Ellis was shaking his head and staring down at the ground. “I apologise. This heat… so little water. I am not in my right mind.”

  Tony groaned inside. Their only officer was hinting at his own incompetency and giving mixed messages to his men about whether they were working with the ISN or not. Things would not go well if Ellis didn’t get a handle on things and let everybody know where they stood.

  To his credit, Aymun did not linger on the animosity. He smiled at his British colleagues and said, “We must cross river now, yes? Very tired and all must rest.”

  Tony went to pat the man on the back, but worried about offending him, so he returned the smile and nodded.

  They went across the river in three shifts, taking almost an hour in total. The journey was wobbly, and they all got wet, but the night had not yet cooled, and they were all glad of the moist chill.

  On the other side, they formed up beneath the glowing moon and got going again. As the temperature descended, they dug into their packs and retrieved their jackets. It would be freezing within an hour or two.

  Fortunately, an hour was all it took for Aymun to locate his supply cache. They encountered an outcropping of boulders at a place where the green, fertile river plain changed back to the hard-packed, featureless dirt of the desert. Aymun led them all up the stony hill and waited for them at the top. Tony had his rifle raised, ready for an ambush, but once again, he was glad to find that Aymun had kept his word. It was all there.