Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga

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Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga Page 20

by Iain Rob Wright


  The slippery demons continued leaping up out of the ocean.

  Frank clenched his fists, watching the scene without blinking. “Where are these things coming from?”

  Guy watched a naval officer fall overboard as a demon swatted him over the gunwale. Seconds after hitting the water, the man was dragged down screaming beneath the surface. Not even the oceans were safe.

  There was screaming from the deck below, making Guy and Frank glance at each other in horror. Tosco came on the radio. “The enemy are on board. We’re losing men.”

  Guy turned to the ladder, but Frank stopped him. “We need you here, Captain. I’ll go.”

  “We’ll both go. We will need every man we have.”

  Frank relented, and the two of them raced down the ladder together and sprinted towards the launch deck. What they saw was terrifying. The slimy creatures were horrifying, and a stink of rotting flesh and the sea came off them in waves. Tosco had the crew organised in a line in front of the Jayhawk helicopter, cutting down the enemy with their rifles. Many of the civilians had scattered in panic and had found themselves cut off from safety. Guy watched as Simon—the teenage Avengers fan—backed up into the clutches of a demon stalking him. It grabbed his head and wrenched it right off his neck before he even knew what was happening, leaving behind a spurting stump and a tap-dancing body that flopped onto the deck like a fish.

  Frank and Guy both grabbed rifles from the stockpile and loaded them up with magazines. It’d been years since Guy had fired a rifle, and the first time he’d ever needed to shoot to kill. The U.S. Coast Guard were not killers, their weaponry more often a deterrent. Today, they would all become soldiers. Guy picked his shots and nailed a demon right in the back of the head. He aimed again and took down another demon snacking on a civilian’s torn-out intestines.

  Frank was like a machine, firing shot after shot without seemingly even having to aim. Tosco stood behind the nearby firing line, pointing out targets to the men and shouting motivations. The young lieutenant was in his element, face stained with blood from a slash wound on his neck, and a look of total control about him. He was unflappable.

  Guy glanced across at the Augusta. The Navy frigate was under renewed attack now after losing the support of the Hatchet’s MGs. Its decks were once again filling up with waterlogged monsters.

  “We need to get to those MGs,” Guy shouted to Frank.

  “I’ll take starboard, you take port.”

  They split up, running to opposite sides of the ship. Guy made it over to his MG first, grabbed the handles, and pulled the trigger. The heavy weight of it bucked in his grip, but he kept it steady and drew the bullet stream across the water and took out a dozen demons. The alleviation in the enemy reinforcements allowed the crew of the Augusta to once again recover and start clearing their decks anew. That gave Guy time enough to spin the MG around and face onto the Hatchet’s own launch deck. He opened up and cut a swath through the demons attacking the civilian refugees. Tosco kept the rest of the crew organised enough to allow the civilians to creep back into safety where Skip handed them weapons and ammunitions. Everyone needed to be armed and firing. No more being a civilian.

  Guy saw that they were winning. Fewer and fewer demons emerged from the water and Frank kept the opposite MG trained to make sure that those that did lost their heads. Many of the demons floated dead on the waves. The men aboard the Augusta were cheering as they swept the last remaining invaders from their deck.

  The MG in Guy’s hand clunked as it fired its last round—its belt-fed magazine expired. He let go of it cautiously, expecting demons to run straight for him now that they had the chance, but none did. So he did his best to march confidently on wobbling legs towards Tosco who was mopping up the last of the enemy. By the time Guy reached his Lieutenant, the crew was hailing him as a hero. Tosco lapped it up, grinning ear to ear, even as he continued to bleed from the jagged wound on his neck. He looked like the lead in an action movie.

  “Are you okay, Lieutenant?” Guy asked his second in command.

  Tosco wiped the blood from his neck and looked at it. “Just a flesh wound, Captain. One of them got me when they first came up out the water. Luckily, I’d already taken the safety off my rifle.”

  Frank left the other MG and came over. “You did well,” he told Tosco, although it sounded more than a little begrudging.

  “Thank you, Chief Petty, but I can’t take any of the credit. The men were warriors, each and every one of them. Let the enemy come, I say. They’ll never get the better of the Hatchet.”

  The men cheered, and were interrupted only by the squawking of a radio. Ensign Bentley brought the unit over to Guy who immediately answered the call. “Captain Granger of the USCG Hatchet. How are you doing over there, USS Augusta? Over.”

  “Thank the Lord for you, Captain Granger. Thank the Lord. You saved our bacon. Once those things were on board we couldn’t stop them coming. It was you cutting them to ribbons on the water that turned the tide. Your men are heroes. Over.”

  “That they are, Captain. Over.”

  “Not the captain,” came the reply from the Augusta. “Commander Johnson died in the attack, a stray bullet from one of your men, I believe. I’m Lieutenant Hernandez. Over.”

  “I’m sorry about your commander,” said Guy. “My crew did the best they could. Over.”

  “I understand. Our decks were swamped with monsters. We would’ve lost far more men if you hadn’t been here to help. Over.”

  “Do you know where those creatures came from, Lieutenant Hernandez? Over.”

  “Affirmative. Our radars picked up an anomaly on the seabed in this area. The things must have swum right up out of the depths. They were so bloated and malformed that they must have been sunk right down low. Over.”

  Guy took a moment to reply. “Then it appears these hell gates are beneath the oceans and on land. We should all keep an eye on the radar and steer a clear course. Over.”

  “Copy that, Captain. We fled Norfolk hoping to regroup, but ran right into another battle. Over.”

  “You were at Norfolk? So were we. Did you see how things ended there? Over”

  “There’s nothing left. The USS New Hampshire went under and took a thousand men with her, but several vessels got away. We count our blessings. Over.”

  Guy slumped back against the port side railing. “At least some of us got out alive. We’re not beaten yet. Over.”

  “Copy that, Captain. Gives us a chance to regroup and head back to coast. Now that you saved us, we’ll be able to fight another day. Naval Command is operating out of Florida now, and all ships are to make their way to Jacksonville. It’ll be a pleasure to have the Hatchet along for the ride. Over.”

  “Negative. The Hatchet is crossing the Atlantic. Over.”

  “Why? Over.”

  “I have a personal matter to attend to. Over.”

  “We have orders to assemble at Jacksonville. Disobey and you’ll be considered a deserter. Over.”

  “Call it what you want. I’m going to the U.K. to get my kids. Over.”

  “I can’t allow you to do that, Captain Granger. The Hatchet is United States property, and your men have a duty to protect their country. You need to return to coast, or relinquish command to someone who will. Over.”

  Guy looked around at his crew, each of them panting and ferocious, like blooded wolves. Tosco had his arms folded, but Guy couldn’t tell if he was for or against what his counterpart on the Augusta was suggesting. His opinion would be key to persuading the rest of the crew one way or another.

  “With all due respect, Lieutenant Hernandez, I don’t take orders from you. Over.”

  “The U.S. Coast Guard has been ordered to relinquish command to the Navy. I am the senior naval officer in this region, and I am taking authority of your vessel. I will have one of my junior officers take command of your crew. Prepare to be boarded. Over and out.”

  Guy swallowed a lump in his throat. He had already made his mi
nd up about deserting and heading to the U.K., but how far was he willing to go? And how far would his crew be willing to go? Would he allow them to get into a firefight with their own countrymen, just to save his children? No, he couldn’t do it. He would have to relinquish command. There was no other option.

  I’m so sorry Kyle and Alice.

  “Fuck them,” said Frank.

  Guy looked at his Chief Petty in shock. “You don’t agree with them? What about your belief in the chain of command?”

  “Fuck the chain of command. The chain of command allowed two-thirds of our Navy to get obliterated at Norfolk. It’s you who has kept us all safe. We rescued those goddamn blue dicks and this is how they repay us? Any man tries to board this ship will have to go through me.”

  The crew looked worried, but none said anything. Guy looked at Tosco, who still had his arms folded. The lieutenant glanced over at the Augusta, then back at Guy. “Those lightweights think they can come aboard and take control of our ship, give orders to my men, they got another thing coming. I say we line up and prevent them from boarding.”

  “We can’t beat them,” said Guy, laying it on the line. His crew had earned that much. “They have more guns and a thicker hull. If we get into a firefight, we can’t win.”

  “Don’t have to win,” said Frank. “Just make it clear that we’re more trouble than it’s worth. They might take this ship from us, but we can make sure they won’t have enough men left to run it.”

  “We can also make sure that our first bullet takes out Hernandez,” said Tosco.

  Guy straightened up, pride swelling in his chest. “Okay. Lieutenant, get everyone armed and lined up against the railings. Frank, back on that MG.”

  “It’s out of ammo.”

  “So is the other one, but the men aboard the Augusta don’t know that.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  The men got busy, reloading their weapons and forming up along the rails. Bloated demon corpses littered the deck, but were forgotten for now as the USCG Hatchet had a new enemy: The USS Augusta.

  The Augusta drifted in close enough that the hulls of the two ships were almost touching. Its marines lined up along the railing, but they were not pointing rifles—yet. A small man stood amongst them, unarmed. His officer’s uniform and Hispanic complexion led Guy to assume that he was Lieutenant Hernandez in the flesh.

  “Tell your men to stand aside, Captain Granger. I hereby seize this vessel in the name of the United States Navy.”

  Guy stood at the railing, also without a weapon—two generals meeting across the battlefield. “Your access is denied, Lieutenant Hernandez. I am the captain of this ship, and my word is law. Be grateful for your rescue and take your men wherever you choose, but they will not come aboard this ship.”

  “You have American citizens on board. Do you plan on kidnapping them?”

  “No man or woman is here against their will. In fact, any who wish to join you now may do so.” Guy turned around to look at the civilians, but not one of them stepped forward to leave.

  “You have them scared,” Hernandez remarked.

  “Considering you were all but dead in the water when we arrived, I think maybe it’s you they are afraid of. The men on this ship survived the attack on New York, the attack on Norfolk, and now the attack on the USS Augusta. They are safer with me than anywhere else. They are survivors and—as my own Lieutenant called them earlier—warriors. We came to aid you in your time of need when running away would’ve been easier. My crew is fearless and ferocious. Come aboard if you dare, Lieutenant.”

  Hernandez laughed like a hyena. “You really think you will win a fight against my ship, Captain? You don’t stand a chance.”

  “Perhaps, but are you willing to lose the men it will take to put us down? I promise that for every one of us you take, we’ll take three of yours. We have two machine guns and my ship’s main gun aimed at you, not to mention about a hundred rifles. I’m over-manned, you see. That’s what happens when you win fights—you get stronger. I look at your crew, Lieutenant, and all I see is fear and exhaustion. They have lost their commander and inherited you. How long do you think they will tolerate your command if you force them to kill fellow Americans? Fellow Americans who just saved their lives. Or perhaps they won’t have to tolerate you much longer. Maybe the very first shot fired will be right at your forehead. You’re a pretty good shot, aren’t you, Lieutenant Tosco?”

  Tosco raised his riflescope to his eye and grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain. I can shoot the nutsack off a navy officer from a hundred metres. In fact, I’m ready to pull the trigger right now.”

  Hernandez tried to respond but tripped over his own words and ended up offering nothing but bluster. He shifted uncomfortably and retreated a step, as he no doubt felt Tosco’s sights falling on him. It sent the wrong message to his men, who all suddenly seemed completely unsure of themselves.

  Guy didn’t want to undermine the Lieutenant too much. The man still had a Navy frigate to command, and his help would be sorely needed back on the coast. “Look, Commander Hernandez, I see you’re a good man—a good American—but after Norfolk, it became every man for himself. We all need to do whatever we can in whatever way we can to make a difference. The Hatchet is crossing the Atlantic, and we will lend our help wherever it is needed, just like we did to save your ship, but we will make our own way and decide our own fate. It’s survival now, don’t you see? There’s not going to be any great war because we’ve already lost. There’s no more United States, there’s just us—people. All that is left is resistance, and no resistance ever worked by following empty orders. It will only work by doing what needs to be done when it needs doing. Take your ship, and do whatever you can to help, but if you try to fight us you’re only helping the enemy.”

  Hernandez seemed to mull it over for a long, long time, struggling to find words and scratching at his head. Guy wished the man was more decisive, quicker to reply, for it showed his lack of confidence by thinking so hard in front of his men. Eventually, he found something to say, and it was less rational than Guy had hoped for, but it was sufficient. “I consider you a traitor to your country, Captain Granger, but I will not command my men to fire on fellow Americans. I disagree about the war being lost. It has only just begun. Your country requires your ship and your crew, but I can see that you have brainwashed them to abandon their beliefs—and even stand by while you deny the existence of the United States. I will not risk lives, but when America is victorious, men like you will be strung up for cowardice. If you have any honour at all, you will step down now, Captain Granger, but I don’t expect that you will.”

  Guy sneered. “The last thing anybody aboard my ship is guilty of is cowardice. I wish you a safe journey, Commander Hernandez. Do try to keep your men alive. We won’t be there to rescue you next time.”

  Hernandez turned away and disappeared from sight.

  Guy kept his crew lined up along the railings, ready for a fight, but was relieved when the Augusta moved away. Bloated corpses fell into the sea as its crew jettisoned them into the water.

  “We should do the same,” said Frank. “God knows what diseases these things might carry. Even if they don’t, I don’t fancy having to look at them.”

  Guy gave the order for everyone to kick and shove the demon corpses overboard. Their slimy carcasses left behind slick trails of blood and seawater. Many of the sailors gagged.

  “Yikes,” cried Frank. “This one looks like my aunt.”

  The men all laughed and gagged a little less.

  Guy took a moment to study his enemy close up. The shrivelled up penis dangling between its flabby grey thighs gave no ambiguity as to its sex. Had it been a man once? Its dead eyes were strangely human.

  “We got a live one over here!” Someone shouted.

  Guy glanced across the deck to see that one of the demons was back on its feet, stalking after one of the civilians. It was badly injured—one arm hanging attached by a thread. Guy had no weapon
, but he hurried to help. Frank and Tosco did the same. The creature was missing an eye, but the remaining one bore into them with hatred. In a slurping voice, it spoke to them. “We will drag your souls into Hell and violate your bodies.”

  Guy sighed. “Will somebody please kill this thing?”

  Frank lifted a handgun from by his side. He pulled the trigger three times, and the demon reeled back, spilling over the port side railing and disappearing into the ocean.

  “They’re here to exterminate us, aren’t they?” muttered Tosco.

  “Yes,” said Guy. “They are.”

  Frank tucked the gun into his waistband and spat over the side of the ship. “They’re welcome to try, but I’m not going down without a fi-”

  Frank’s head shuddered and his left eye disappeared in a flash of red. He slumped against the railing, exposing the wide-open crater at the back of his skull. A loud crack skipped across the ocean.

  “Sniper!” Somebody shouted.

  Tosco lunged at Guy and shoved him to the ground just as another shot was fired. The lieutenant took the bullet high up on his body and flipped backwards like an acrobat. Guy was forced to watch, stunned.

  Skip was the one to give the order. The old sailor kept his calm and yelled out instruction. “Take cover and return fire. Don’t make it easy for ‘em.”

  The Hatchet’s crew crouched down at the railings and fired at the Augusta, but the larger Navy vessel was at least a mile away and too far to hit with an assault rifle. The enemy sniper fired a series of follow up shots, but by then, everyone had taken cover and remained there safely.

 

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