Hell on Earth- the Complete Series Box Set

by Iain Rob Wright

  Ted’s stomach sank. Of all the people to over-react, Hannah was the least likely. He sprinted down the steps and raced across the courtyard, his hammer bashing against his jaw as he hefted it over his shoulder. The more he saw Hannah panic, the more he panicked himself.

  He made it over to the rear steps and hurried up the battlements. Hannah grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall, making him look down the hill. Steven was down by the cabin.

  Four-dozen demons chased him.

  “No,” said Ted. “No, no, no. They were supposed to come from the front. Everything is set up at the front.”

  “He ain’t gunna make it,” said Hannah gripping the edge of the wall. “Come on, Steven! Run!”

  Steven was a picture of terror, arms pistoning, face like a bleached-white bedsheet. The demons shrieked at his back, enjoying the chase. Amongst their charred and blackened corpses, were leaping beasts and leering zombies. A full force had arrived.

  Ted was silent, gripping the wall alongside Hannah and hoping his stomach didn’t burst with the amount of acid swirling through it.

  Steven was wailing now. Not calling out for help but wailing deep inside his soul. He started up the hill, slipping briefly but then regaining himself. The man was quick, if from terror or actual ability was impossible to tell, but he might just make it to safety if he kept up the pace.

  “I need to get down to the sally port,” said Ted, moving from the wall. I have to open it and let him in.”

  Hannah grabbed him. “What if you can’t get it closed again?”

  “You want me to lock him out?”

  Hannah removed her hand and shook her head. Ted raced down the steps and around to the sally port. Already, he could see the top of Steven’s head bobbing frantically. The demons were gaining on him. He still had a lead, but his limbs were struggling now. The speed and incline were too much to take in a sprint. The demons, however, seemed as energetic as ever as they savoured their kill.

  Ted yelled out encouragement. “Come on, Steven! You’re nearly here!”

  Steven must have heard the words because he renewed his desperate effort. His hands became blades, cutting the air—left-right-left-right-left. It was a gold-medal-worthy effort. He pulled away from his pursuers.

  “He’s gunna make it,” Hannah called from above. “Shite, he’s actually gunna make it.”

  Ted gritted his teeth, sure it was true. Steven had shaken off his pursuers, putting more and more space between them. He was going to make it through the sally port before the demons caught him. God bless the man.

  Steven seemed to sense his victory. His wailing stopped, and a grim determination fell over him instead—the same focus Ted witnessed in Hannah so often. The man’s fear had gone, and only his desire to survive remained.

  Ted opened the sally port and threw an arm, ready to receive Steven and yank him to safety. Instinctively, despite still being ten metres out, Steven threw his own arm out in anticipation. He closed the distance quickly, sprinting in massive strides.

  Five metres now.

  Four.

  Three.

  “I got you,” said Ted.

  Steven reached out both hands, leaning forward.

  He cried out.

  A massive length of steel pierced Steven’s thigh and pinned him to the ground. He bellowed in agony, stuck on his stomach and unable to get at the metal shaft running clean through his leg.

  Ted stumbled forwards, needing to reach Steven and pull him to safety.

  What had happened? He had been so close.

  Hannah shouted at Ted to get back inside, but her words wouldn’t make sense to him. He stepped towards Steven, writhing on the ground.

  Something monstrous marched up the hill. Not a demon like the others. This was a huge and terrifying creature, three feet taller than any man, and more skeleton than flesh. Its dark eyes swirled with malice.

  Ted froze. Hannah continued calling to him, her voice a distant echo somewhere behind him.

  The giant abomination crested the hill and stomped towards Steven. Steven cried out for Ted to save him.

  Ted couldn’t move.

  The massive demon clutched the metal spear jutting out of Steven’s thigh and wrenched it free. With little interest, he casually rammed the spike into the back of the man’s skull as he tried to crawl away. It came out of Steven’s eye socket and pinned him to the ground again.

  Then the creature turned its attention to Ted, and the open sally port behind him. Ted realised the threat marching towards him, yet he found himself unable to move a muscle. As numb as he may have become to the demons in this world, he had seen nothing so appallingly evil as this creature coming towards him.

  I’m sorry Chloe. I can’t do this anymore. Wait for me, please. I’m coming.

  The vile creature roared, and a foul-smelling wind picked up.

  “Wake the hell up, Ted.” Hannah shouted in his ear as she wrapped her arms around his waist and yanked him backwards through the sally port. He stumbled backwards, still frozen, and could do nothing but watch as Hannah frantically slammed the gate closed just as the creature made it up to the walls. She dropped the thick steel bar across it barely in time, then reinforced it with several lengths of timber.

  Ted felt his fingers move, and then more of his body came to life. Whatever soul-freezing terror had got hold of him began to fade away. He could no longer see that vile abomination, but only a single stone wall kept it at bay. He blinked a few times, then looked at Hannah. They shared a moment of mutual, ‘oh fuck!’

  “This is really happening, isn’t it?” she said, face whiter than he’d ever seen it.

  He nodded. “This might be the day we die. You ready?”

  Hannah limped towards him, her ankle still sore. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Me too. Good luck.”

  “Aye. Lead the way, pet.”

  “Follow me, luv.”

  They got to work.

  43

  DR KAMIYO

  Kamiyo’s heart lifted to see Ted and Frank waving from atop the wall. Part of him had feared returning to a castle overrun with demons, the bodies of his friends hanging from the walls. But they were alive and well.

  Then there had been a hysterical yell, and Ted disappeared from view. Frank remained but was now waving a hand at them to hurry.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” said Philip, heading towards the lower gatehouse as the yelling continued. Ahead, all along the inclined approach, wooden stakes had been driven into the ground. It also appeared that someone had dug a small ditch. It meant heading up the hill would be perilous.

  “Should we go around to the sally port?” asked Kamiyo, raising his poker and looking around. “I don’t want to end up impaled in a ditch.”

  Philip shook his head. “We need to get inside and find out what’s happening. Just watch your step.”

  Aymun placed a hand on Kamiyo’s shoulder. “Look at your toes as you walk. It is the same way one navigates a minefield.”

  Kamiyo didn’t even want to know how Aymun knew that, so he sighed and walked on. He navigated the first spike and instantly felt relief. Ted had arranged the stakes to prevent an army marching up the hill en masse, but as an individual, he could pass between them more easily than he’d anticipated.

  Frank remained on the front walls as they climbed the hill, but then disappeared, hopefully to raise the portcullis.

  “Shit!” Philip slipped and had to put a hand out.

  Aymun hurried to gather the man back to his feet. “Go slow, my brother.”

  The portcullis raised and Kamiyo felt his heart lift. Then he heard distant screaming and feared the relief would be short-lived. It sounded like a man wailing. Kamiyo wanted to hurry, but the ground was muddy. One bad slip could put him on a spike.

  Aymun and Philip were right behind him, and he waited for them to catch up. They were using one another to steady themselves, so it seemed like a good idea to stay together. He reached out to help P
hilip, but his hand froze in mid-air when he spotted something farther down the hill.

  Movement.

  It took a moment to register, but then Kamiyo’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “Aymun, Philip. Run!”

  Both men looked back to see what he was on about, and by the time they spotted the hunched-over demon loping up the hill behind them, a dozen more had burst forth from the tree line.

  Kamiyo grabbed Philip and pulled him along. Aymun moved with them, until the three men moved in a clambering conga line, holding each other up while trying not to impale themselves on stakes.

  The demons spilled through the lower gatehouse and clumped together, approaching fast.

  “Where did they come from?” Philip cried.

  “They must have been in the forest.” Kamiyo scrambled on all fours, trying to keep his laden backpack from tipping him sideways. He dug his poker into the mud to keep himself anchored. “We must have just missed them.”

  “Words later,” said Aymun. “We must hurry.”

  “No shit!” said Kamiyo.

  They moved as quickly as they could, but it was perilous every step of the way. The stakes increased in number, assembled in loose walls now. Kamiyo had to pass through the gaps first, then pull the other men through after him.

  The demons pursuing them shrieked and cackled.

  Philip lost his cool and threw himself into a gap while Aymun was in the middle of passing through it. The collision unsteadied both men, and while Aymun fell forwards, Philip fell back. The weight of his backpack took over and dragged him down the slope. He let out a scream as he tumbled and rolled.

  Aymun clambered up beside Kamiyo, then turned around. “We must go back.”

  “No, get inside.”

  “We cannot abandon our brother.”

  “I’ll go!” Kamiyo shoved his backpack at Aymun and slid himself back through the gap before the man could argue. He was the one who had failed Philip’s son. He would be the one to go back and save him.

  Philip was a flipped over turtle, trying to roll onto his side so he could get up again.

  The demons were already on him.

  Philip screamed as the first demon leapt on him, a primate-like creature with razor-sharp talons. It slashed at his chest as he struggled to get free of his rucksack.

  Blood sprayed the air.

  Kamiyo hurtled down the hill, praying he didn’t fall forwards and land on a spike. Without his rucksack, he felt light, and he swung his iron poker with huge force. It struck the ape-like skull of the demon attacking Philip and sent it whirling backwards down the slope. It barrelled into a group of demons behind, which bought Kamiyo some more time.

  The demon had slashed Philip’s chest open, but it had also cut the strap of his rucksack. It allowed Kamiyo to free the man and pull him onto his knees.

  “Come on, Philip. I need you to get up.”

  Philip was dazed, the wound painful enough to shock him. Blood poured from somewhere on his upper body. If he had any chance of not dying on this slope, he needed to get moving right now. Fortunately, he seemed to realise this, as he wrapped an arm around Kamiyo’s shoulder and took a step with his support.

  They made slow progress back up the hill.

  The demons reorganised behind them.

  Ted’s spike walls were doing a good job of keeping the demons from swarming, and they were the only reason Philip and Kamiyo weren’t dead yet.

  That might change at any moment.

  “Philip, come on! I need you to move faster, man.”

  Philip groaned and did his best to increase speed. Kamiyo glanced back and saw demons fast approaching—not just the ape-like creatures, but the blackened and burnt corpses. He also spotted the one he had struck with the poker. It was dead, skull caved-in and smouldering.

  Like when he had struck the demon with the skillet in that kitchen almost a month ago.

  Kamiyo realised they wouldn’t make it. The demons were moving up the slope too fast. He shoved Philip towards the next stake wall and turned to face the first demons coming up the hill. He didn’t have time to swing his poker, so he jabbed it outwards instead, stabbing a blackened monster right through the guts. The wound smoked and smouldered, and the demon’s entire mid-section fell to ash. Kamiyo backed up the hill cautiously, swinging the poker back and forth in front of him, keeping the demons at bay. They seemed to be afraid, which was something he’d not seen before. It was like how Hannah had described the demon she’d seen in the village. These demons were showing fear, less relentless. More human. The fate of their fallen brother cowed them.

  But not enough to stop them.

  Kamiyo swung at another demon, and just missed crushing its jaw. It leapt back and blocked the other demons from moving up the hill. It bought Kamiyo another second, and he turned to shove Philip into the gap in the stake wall. Without his rucksack, the man slid through easily. Kamiyo was right behind him.

  But as he passed through the gap, something tugged at his ankle. He looked back and spotted a demon lying on its front and clawing at his leg. It must have made a last-chance dive to keep Kamiyo from getting away. It had paid off.

  Kamiyo tried to turn and use his poker, but he was too constricted halfway through the stake wall. There was no room to twist around. The demon continued pulling at his ankle while getting itself upright. Once on its feet, it would grab Kamiyo’s throat and tear off his head.

  “Get the hell off me, you damn dirty monster!”

  Kamiyo fell backwards, dragged by his right arm. He thought, for a second, that Philip had recovered and was helping him, but when he looked around, he saw Aymun. The man had placed the rucksacks on the ground to come and help. He yanked Kamiyo through the stake wall. The demon came with him, still clutching his ankle, but now that Kamiyo was free, he swung his poker and took the top of its head off. It slumped to the ground, lifeless.

  Kamiyo glanced at the poker in his hands and wondered why it was so lethal. Aymun saw his perplexed expression and gave him his answer. “Iron. It is anathema to the damned. Come, we must hurry.”

  Kamiyo and Aymun gathered Philip between them, and the two rucksacks, and clambered up the hill. Once again, it was slow going. The demons spilled through the stake wall behind them.

  They reached the last stretch of ground before the portcullis, which was now raised several feet off the ground and awaiting their entrance. The demons were close behind them, which posed the risk of them rushing through the gate right behind the men. They would have to move fast to ensure that didn’t happen.

  “Drop the packs,” said Kamiyo.

  Aymun stared at him. “We need the supplies.”

  “They’re slowing us down.”

  Aymun dropped the packs, and the three men picked up speed. The gate was right ahead. They could make it. Safety beckoned.

  Kamiyo’s feet slid out from beneath him, going in opposite directions. Aymun slid too, and Philip tumbled onto his hands and knees. They found themselves struggling in a sopping wet ditch.

  Kamiyo smelt piss.

  “What is this?” Philip asked wearily.

  Kamiyo slid onto his knees. “The ground is soaked with piss. We’ll have to crawl through it.”

  The three of them swam through the stinking mud, clawing their way towards dry land. The portcullis lay just ahead. It was almost close enough to reach out and grab.

  Philip, wounded and losing blood, was the weak link once again. Aymun and Kamiyo had to pull the man between them.

  The demons spilled into the space right behind them, but they too were taken by surprise at the suddenly perilous ground. One of the primate-demons crashed to the ground, then struggled to right itself as its limbs failed to find purchase in the piss-soaked mud. The demons behind it toppled, and a pile of writhing bodies grew.

  “Keep moving!” Kamiyo cried.

  “I’m trying,” said Philip. “I’m hurt.”

  “I have got you, brother,” said Aymun, pulling the man along.


  The demons got their legs back under them, leaning against one another and treading over one another. The ground became a quagmire, but the demons swam through it.

  “They’re catching us up,” said Kamiyo. “We need to go faster.”

  A demon reached out and grabbed Philip’s trailing leg.

  Kamiyo groaned. Would they ever make the short journey to safety? He didn’t want to die here in a trench full of piss.

  Philip kicked at the demon and shook it loose, but again it grabbed him. Two more demons made it up alongside and grabbed at him too. Kamiyo swung his poker at them but stopping to fight meant he was no longer moving towards safety.

  A demon grabbed Philip by the shin. Kamiyo was about to strike at it, but before he made contact, an arrow pierced its flesh. Less than a second later, another arrow planted itself in the demon’s skull. It released Philip’s shin and collapsed face-first in the mud.

  Aymun got a hand on dry land and started dragging himself clear of the trench. He turned back to help Kamiyo and Philip, offering a hand to each.

  All three men made it to their feet, but they were exhausted. They staggered towards the portcullis, ignoring the demons at their back for they had nothing left with which to fight. Arrows continued dropping from above. Kamiyo glanced up to see the camp’s teenagers lining the walls.

  The battle had begun. Shots had been fired.

  Kamiyo shoved Aymun and Philip through the portcullis, then staggered in behind them. A growl caused him to turn back around. A primate demon made it out of the ditch and pounced at Kamiyo, razor-sharp claws ready to open his insides.

  Kamiyo stumbled on tired legs. He wouldn’t make it out of the way in time. So instead, he shouted, “Frank! Drop the gate.”

  The portcullis buried itself in the ground. The demon made it inside just in time—except for its lower half, which lay dissected on the other side of the thick iron spikes.

  Part III

  44

  CALIGULA