Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga

by Iain Rob Wright

  Minty wasted no time tucking into the carrier bag he deposited onto the picnic bench, yanking open a bag of crisps and devouring them in handfuls. Food was too valuable to pass up, so Finn grabbed a bag of peanuts and shovelled them into his mouth. For a moment, they were silent as the two of them ate.

  “We can’t hang about long, kid,” said Finn between mouthfuls.

  Minty spoke with his mouth full. “I know. Those guys will kill me for this.”

  “Fuck ‘em. They’re not as tough as they think they are.”

  “I’m just a kid. They’ll…”

  Finn frowned. “They’ll what?”

  The kid shook his head, fighting back tears. “Nothing. Can I come with you?”

  “No.”

  “Then you should have left me in that room to die.”

  Finn studied the kid, tried to make out his expression. Something was going on that Finn didn’t understand, but clearly the kid was vulnerable. His clothes stank and it looked like he hadn’t eaten well in a month. If Finn left him, the kid would be at the mercy of the wolves.

  So what? Everybody's screwed. I don’t owe this kid anything.

  Marie would have helped him.

  Marie would never turn her back on a kid who needed help.

  “Goddamnit! Fine, you can tag along, but only until we're enough away from here for those guys to lose your scent. Then you’re on your own. Not my problem.”

  The kid finished his crisps and looked at Finn. “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” said Finn. “He murdered my sister.”

  “Marie was your sister?”

  Finn glared at the kid. “You knew her?”

  “I-I think so. She had an accent, like you, but it was almost unnoticeable. You only heard it when she joked about. She was nice.”

  “Do you know what happened to her?” Finn asked. He had to force himself not to grab the kid by the neck and scream in his face.

  Hold it together, Finn.

  “No. I’m sorry. If you think Dominic hurt her though, you're probably right. It's a bad idea going after him. He's a lot tougher than the guys in the bar.”

  Finn nodded. He didn’t have proof that Dominic murdered his sister, but circumstantial evidence piled up, and having someone who knew the man confirming that he was a monster gave Finn the vindication he needed.

  “I need to find this warehouse, Minty. Can you tell me anything about it?”

  “He said it was one of those places that flogs everything cheap for people to sell on.”

  Finn nodded. “A wholesaler?”

  “I think it was called Latif’s, or something. Sounded like an Indian word.”

  “Okay,” said Finn. “That’s a start, I guess. Let’s ask around and see if anybody knows it. Make yourself useful or you'll be gone.”

  Minty nodded, put his remaining food back inside the carrier bag and tied a knot in the handle. “Okay, I'm ready!”

  “What kind of name is Minty, anyway?”

  Minty tore into his carrier bag and pulled something out—the pack of chewing gum he'd demanded from the barman. With a smile he said, “My mum said I’d end up smelling like mint. It kind of became my nickname.”

  The way the kid's eyes lowered sadly suggested the woman he was so obviously fond of was no longer around. Finn had been about to ask for the kid’s actual name, but decided he liked ‘Minty’ just fine.

  Embers

  One of the last memories Finn had of Marie before she left Belfast for London was her holding her dolly, which she called Moppy. Finn had just announced he would be staying behind. She had erupted into floods of tears. He told her he had brothers relying on him and he couldn’t abandon them.

  “But I’m your sister,” she had howled, “and we have picnics in the woods. I don’t want to go to London. Not without you.”

  Finn held back tears of his own and seeing his heartbroken ma’s own wavering emotions almost broke him. He knelt in front of Marie and wiped her tears with his thumb. “This is my home, Marie, and it needs me. Sometimes there are more important things than playing in the woods, okay?”

  She recoiled as though his words hurt her.

  But he continued. “London is a bad place, Marie, just like Belfast can be sometimes, but in London, you won’t have me to look after you. Be strong, lil sis, okay? No crying. And you be good for ma. You work hard at school, but let no one push you around. You be tough.”

  She tried to stop crying, but it only made her sob harder. “I’m not tough, Finn. I need you to protect me.”

  He shook his head and stood. “No, you don't. You'll be fine without me. You'll be tough.”

  It was more than three years until he saw his little sister again. By then, both of them had changed. Marie lost her big brother and Finn lost himself.

  I could have watched her grow up.

  Finn came back to reality. His baby sister’s tears echoed in his head and left splinters in his skull. She hadn’t been fine without him. She hadn’t been tough.

  She had needed Finn to protect her.

  I turned my back on her.

  Now he was wandering the wasteland in a country he had despised his entire life looking for the monster who had killed her. The last thirty years of his life had been a wasted journey. He could have spent his life by Marie’s side and it would all end the same. The tar would claim them all.

  “Hey, Finn.” Minty was pointing across the road in front of him. “Those guys over there know Dom. They used to get their gear from him.”

  Finn blinked and got himself back together. He peered across the road and saw two emaciated men sitting on the stone steps of an old bank. They were kicking a small, fuzzy-haired dog, keeping it trapped between them so it couldn't escape. The dog yelped with every angry boot.

  Sighing at the pointlessness of it all, Finn marched across the street and shoved the men. They were so light that both of them went sprawling against the stone steps. One of them cracked a hip and screamed in pain. The other lay sprawled and confused.

  Minty went to his knees beside the frightened dog, patting it as it trembled. He reached into his carrier bag and emptied a bag of pork scratchings onto the floor. The dog ate, cautious at first but then ravenous.

  Finn waited for the two druggies to get up off the steps. They stunk of foulness, and their faces were wet tissue-paper stretched over skullbone. “I’m looking for Dominic Cassell. I hear he went to a warehouse called Latif’s.”

  The injured guy rubbed at his hip and tutted. “Why’d you have to shove us, man?”

  “Because you were picking on a frightened little animal, so I thought I'd let you see how it feels. Would you like another reason?”

  “What d’you care? The world has ended.”

  “It hasn’t ended yet. Dominic, I want to find him. Speak!”

  The other druggie who hadn’t fallen quite so badly chewed his lip bloody. It cracked more as he answered. “Yeah, we know Dom. Used to hook us up 'til he tripled the price—twat. I know Latif’s too. It’s on the corner of West Highgate, near the dog’s home. The cop shop is nearby. I used to walk home from there after a night in the chokie.”

  Finn was surprised to get such useful info—and so freely. “Minty, give these guys something to eat.”

  Minty pulled a face. He was still petting the small dog which now wagged its tail. “After what they did?”

  “Rules of the street. These guys helped without me having to get physical. Give them something for their troubles.”

  “You got any gear?” said the guy with the bruised hip. His eyes suddenly lit up.

  “We have salt and vinegar crisps,” said Minty, tossing two packets at them. “Enjoy what you’ve been given.”

  Finn nodded. “I'd listen to the kid.”

  After that, the two men took the crisps gladly. To Minty they said, “Cheers, buddy. Sorry about the dog.”

  “And I’m sorry about the hip,” said Finn. “Try to be decent for whatever time
you have left.”

  As they walked away, Minty started chuckling.

  “What is it?” asked Finn.

  “You’re like a crime fighter. You go round saving puppies and trapped children. Finn the Hero.”

  Finn rolled his eyes. “Don’t be away in the head. This isn’t a comic book. I’m not fighting crime, I’m getting answers. You don't want to see what happens when people don't give them.”

  Minty stopped laughing, but kept a slight smile on his face. “Just seems like all the answers are coming from the bad guys you rough up.”

  Finn was a bad guy beating up other bad guys. That didn’t make him a good guy. Good guys didn't abandon their families. Good guys didn’t kill people. Good guys didn't plant bombs.

  The little girl he pulled from the rubble of the post office thought Finn was a good guy too. She’d never known the reason she needed rescuing in the first place was because of a rigged parcel Finn had left there.

  Finn was no hero.

  “I don’t know my way around the city, kid. Do you recognize the whereabouts that fella was talking about?”

  Minty nodded. “West Highgate. Yeah, I know it. It’s not far away. We can probably walk it in an hour.”

  “Let’s walk faster and make it in less.”

  “Okay,” said Minty. “Maybe the three of us can stop and find some more food along the way.”

  Finn looked at the boy and frowned. “What are you talking about, the three of us?”

  Minty nodded at the ground between them. Keeping pace in the centre of their group was the frightened little dog. “Looks like he’s coming along,” said Minty. “Every hero needs a dog. Let's call him... Wonder Mutt.”

  Finn rolled his eyes. “Just great. If he shits, kid, you’re cleaning it up.”

  Ashes

  “Where's your family?” Finn asked as they headed out of the housing estate and towards the main roads.

  “Dead,” said Minty.

  Finn knew that would likely be the case, so what had made him even ask the question? Probably the silence of their walk. Quiet made him uncomfortable. It had been a long time since Finn had needed to make conversation with a stranger, and he struggled with it. Back home in Belfast, he had only ever associated with those he had known for years. In London, every face belonged to a desperate stranger.

  Finn cleared his throat. “You picked an awful time to be alive, kid.”

  Minty frowned. “I didn’t pick it, but I suppose I know what you mean. If I'd been born a hundred years ago, I would've lived a full life without ever knowing that the world would end soon. It sucks.”

  “Trust me, you’re not missing out on all that much. Life gets shit as soon as you’re out of puberty. Least you got the good years.”

  “The good years? I spent the last three years getting my ass kicked at school every day, and my mum was so poor that I was still playing games on an old Xbox while all the other kids were chilling out with their PlayStation 4s. My dad barely wanted to know me.”

  Finn grunted. “See, that’s the problem with kids today—especially English kids.”

  “What?”

  “Growing up shouldn't be about who's got the best stuff. It should be about exploring—playing in the dirt and jumping off rocks. Kids weren't meant to spend their time sitting on their fat arses playing stupid video games. Maybe if you spent more time outside you wouldn't have got your arse handed to you at school.”

  Minty didn’t reply. He scrunched his face and moped. The little dog trotted between them without a care in the world, its previous torment forgotten. If only human beings possessed such talent for closure.

  Imagine living life without regret.

  Seeing he had upset the kid perversely satisfied Finn. Maybe now he would stop thinking of him as a good guy. Maybe now he sees what I truly am.

  They reached the end of the road where they were met by a wide roundabout. A retail park lay to their left. A makeshift camp had been erected in its carpark, full of people milling around and living in tents for mutual protection. These communes had popped up everywhere in the last couple of months. People were too afraid to stay in their homes alone, so they grouped together like flies, choosing to live outside in their own collective filth. Finn could think of nothing worse.

  The other roads off the roundabout led back to the built-up areas of the city.

  “Where now?” Finn asked the kid.

  “What are you going to do when you find Dominic? Are you going to kill him? You killed Steve back at the Hobby Horse.”

  “Who? Oh, you mean the Afghan vet. He killed himself when he pulled a knife on me. Why do you care, anyway? Those gobshites let you starve half-to-death.”

  Minty shrugged. They had come to a stop at the roundabout so he knelt and patted the dog—or Wonder Mutt as he was apparently called. “I just don’t think you should kill people. I don’t think you should kill Dom.”

  Finn narrowed his eyes and tried to understand the kid’s agenda. “What does it have to do with you whether I kill him or not?”

  Minty shrugged. “Don’t you think there’s been enough killing? The last two days, all I’ve been able to do is look out of the living room window, and it's been like watching a horror movie. This morning I saw a woman raped right in the middle of the road. She was screaming out for help, and people just walked on by. I saw a little boy point at her and ask his mummy what she was crying about. Then, when she lay there abandoned and sobbing, someone came and stole her shoes. If I’d had anything to eat in days, I would have thrown up.”

  Finn imagined the woman’s fear and then transferred it to his sister. Had she screamed out? Or had she gone somewhere in her head and remained silent? Just like Minty, the image made him want to vomit.

  Finn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but didn't show it. Violence only upset you if you allowed it into your thoughts. He shrugged. “Everyone knows their time is up. They don’t care. People can do what they like.”

  “Exactly,” said Minty. “So you could choose not to kill Dom. I don’t want you to be like everybody else. Beat him up if you have to, just don’t kill him.”

  Finn grunted. “Tell me which way to go, kid. I don’t have time to moralise with you.”

  “I’m not telling you anything unless you promise you won’t kill Dom.”

  “Fine, I promise. Now tell me.”

  Minty frowned. “I don’t believe you.”

  Finn clenched his fists and felt his heart race. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I. Won’t. Kill. Dom.”

  Minty stared him in the face for several seconds. Finn didn’t appreciate being scrutinised by a child, but he kept his temper somehow.

  “The warehouse is straight on over the roundabout.”

  “Thank you!” Finn nodded and got going again. Minty and Wonder Mutt hurried to keep up.

  As they got walking again, Finn considered the myriad of ways he could kill Dom. Not once could he imagine a way of not killing him. The guy had been dead the moment Finn's ma had uttered his name.

  A death sentence.

  Abandoned cars choked the roundabout. It was due to such congestion that people never bothered to try the roads anymore. Finn had arrived in England by boat, but he hadn't been fleeing the grey death. He had been fleeing Northern Ireland because of what it had become. The offshoot of the old IRA Finn was part of had taken the end of the world as a sign that God was angry. It had led them to plan the largest domestic attack in the nation’s history—bombing a dozen Protestant and secular targets simultaneously. With national security falling into disarray, getting the parts for the bomb had been child’s play. Planting and detonating them was going to be even easier. Finn’s bomb was earmarked for a secular primary school. The group’s leader, Reverend Chris Adams, told Finn God would reward him for punishing the offspring of the wicked. The group's other targets included a hospital, police station, and an embassy. Twelve targets in total—one for each apostle of Christ. Every bomb would
be an offering to a chosen saint.

  Thousands would die.

  Even as Billions died.

  It was murder for murder's sake.

  “It’s just down here,” said Minty, pointing, “just past the police station.”

  Wonder Mutt ran around them in excited circles.

  Finn studied the police station’s windows as they neared, wondering if anyone lurked inside. Proximity to law enforcement had worried him for so long that his heart rate increased out of habit. Finn saw police officers as the enemy—enforcers of an unholy regime. Truth was, they were no different to anybody else. The whole world was twisted and dark. Everyone found their own corner to piss in. What Finn once thought were just causes now seemed like childish fantasies.

  Or outright fallacies.

  “Are you okay, son?” somebody shouted from across the road.

  Finn looked up and saw a police officer standing in the station's empty car park. He wore a white shirt with lapels, but lacked the rest of his uniform. He pointed a finger and asked again. “Are you okay?”

  “Who, me?” asked Minty, when he realised the policer officer was addressing him and not Finn.

  “Yes, are you in need of help? If you are, you can come on over to me.”

  Finn shrugged at Minty. “Go on over. You’re better off with him than me.”

  Minty waved back at the man across the road. “No, I’m fine; thank you, officer.”

  “You don’t look fine to me, son. You look dirty and malnourished.”

  Finn chuckled, letting the officer know he was in agreement. “I just met the kid today so don't blame me.”

  “Finn gave me food,” said Minty. “He's my friend.”

  The officer grew suspicious. He exited the car park and mounted the grassy embankment that bordered the road. It led Wonder Mutt to grumble and move to Minty's side. Finn noticed the officer had a gun on his hip, but he was questioned about his own weapon before he had chance to mention it. “That’s a big knife you’ve got hanging from your belt, sir.”