by Fleet, Ricky
“… Nothing,” Morrow accepted, glumly.
“However, imagine what can be achieved once we’ve secured the forces in the mountains and got them home safe. Imagine what we can do to help them once we’ve retaken Portsmouth and brought our warships home. We’d finally have a real shot at taking back our country.”
“I know, sir.”
There was no enthusiasm in Morrow. After his previous exuberance, the excitement was gone. “What is it, Private?”
Leaning towards the computer, a shaking hand pulled up the final recording timestamped two hours in the past.
“Dear God,” groaned Haywood, slumping into the vacant chair.
The unmistakeable sight of the Channel Tunnel was rendered in ultra-high definition on the screen. Like severed arteries, the twin train lines and shattered service passage bled. Instead of a crimson torrent, a weakly flowing grey ooze poured forth. From a height of ten thousand feet, the Watchkeeper zoomed in on the open mouths below. The full horror of the scene became clear.
“Is that what I think it is?”
Morrow nodded dumbly. “We’ve got a few visitors from Europe.”
Haywood clasped him by the arm. “How many?”
“Just watch, sir,” Morrow whispered.
The operator pulled the view back, exposing the wider area of Folkestone. Hundreds of thousands were already through, filling the town with shambling rot. A small compound located on a patch of parkland was already under siege. Suddenly, the video cut away to a view of the open ocean below.
“What happened? Why did it skip?”
“You don’t need to see that, sir. They couldn’t possibly fight that many…”
“Oh, I see,” Haywood replied, sadly. Another hundred enemies were beginning the slow march westward. If enough of them was left to walk.
“This is what waits on the other side of The Channel.”
Calais was always a favoured spot for illegal immigrants to wait, hoping for a spot in a lorry or chancing the dangerous lines themselves. Now it was filled with the dead, waiting patiently at the arterial bottleneck of the French tunnels. The drone flew slowly in a south easterly direction towards Paris. It was close to a mile before the tightly pressed throng tapered off, giving way to the arriving stragglers.
“So many…” muttered Haywood.
“And we thought London was going to give us trouble,” added Morrow.
“I’ve got to get on the radio to Dauntless. The Admiral needs updating.”
“Can they blow the tunnels?”
“I just don’t know, Private,” Haywood replied, standing up and heading towards the door. “I want all of your data in a report I can send to the admiral in thirty minutes.”
“Aye, sir.”
Haywood left the drone operator to his thoughts. As the long corridor stretched out before the captain, he had his own. Is this a test? Is God really so angry with us He’d wipe out His own creation? Judging by the millions of gathered zombies eager to traverse the tunnels, it looked likely. Picturing the carefully nurtured view of the bearded benevolent deity, the smile hidden within the white beard disappeared. The warm eyes hardened. Blue skies darkened in the Heavens as God’s wrathful nature took hold. It was Noah all over again. Except the rising water was replaced with a flood of flesh eating corpses.
“We’re fucked,” whispered Haywood, giving in to despair.
Chapter 44
Mike was blind. The hood was thick enough to shut out nearly all light, and was tied firmly at his neck. Infrequent slivers of light carried from the sun through the tight cross stitch. He sucked in great gulps of air, trying to bring fresh oxygen through the itchy burlap covering. The carbon dioxide in his hood was at dangerous levels, and it was all he could do to stay upright as the dizziness took him.
For most of the journey, he’d allowed himself to be led like a small child. At the outset, a fall had rebroken his already headbutt damaged nose, and he didn’t want to repeat the accident. Craig had quickly passed the stage of fear, and fought with the Gypsies most of the way. With hands bound, and ankles trussed to allow only small steps, his efforts caused more damage to himself than the gloating men around them. Still, he fought, refusing to be cowed. Each time Mike heard a thump or the crash as his brother was knocked to the ground, his confidence trickled away. They were blood, but Mike felt alien to his brother’s insane bravery, as if he was born a different species. On one occasion, he had tried to help Craig, earning a gentle jab to the face. That half-hearted blow to his nose crushed every last drop of resistance as surely as the weak bone and cartilage beneath his bloodied beak.
“Mrs Hampton has got such sights to show you,” mocked one of their captors.
The Gypsies roared with laughter.
“What’s that from, Lennie?”
“Hellraiser, John. Good film.”
“I remember that one. It’s got the geezer with all the nails in his head.”
“Pins,” replied the one they called Lennie.
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. I wonder if Mrs Hampton will stick pins in their heads?” John gloated.
“It’ll be much worse than that,” Lennie replied, darkly.
“Fuck you, you dirty cunts!” Craig yelled, launching himself at the voices again. Wherever he had aimed, it was off, and he slammed into the frosty ground. “I’ll kill all of you!”
“Get up, you prick,” snapped John.
“The killing’s only going one way, my son,” said Lennie, leading them onwards.
“We didn’t do anything to you,” said Mike. As the words came out, he detested the whimpering quality in his voice. He coughed to clear the whine. “Let us go. We can be allies.”
“All your people are dead, sunshine,” growled John. “We don’t need a couple of nobodies to help us.”
“We aren’t nobodies!” cried Craig. Heavy hands stopped the inevitably futile attack.
“We aren’t,” Mike repeated, the whine returning.
“I suggest you save your energy for Mrs Hampton. You know how she loves entertaining guests,” warned Lennie.
“She’s saving her best for your friends, Hombre and Matt. Where are they?” asked John.
“Hopefully, they’re working on a plan to kill you all,” Craig replied.
“Not with his leg all shot up, Matt won’t be.”
“He won’t have gotten far, that’s for sure. As for Hombre, one of our scouts will find him.”
“Then take your anger out on them! We didn’t do anything to your people.”
“Mikey, Mikey, Mikey,” Lennie chided, rapping on his skull with each word. “Shit rolls uphill, my son. The buck stops with the management, not the poor fuckers on the shop floor.”
Mike came close to blurting out a denial of his connection to the leadership. The words died on his lips as he realised the only thing left in the world was his brother. Did he really want to go out completely alone after throwing Craig under the proverbial bus?
No.
“If that’s the case, let Craig go. I was the one that ordered the attack on Claire’s sons.”
“Craig’s the top dog, Mikey. We know all about you. Well, not you, exactly, we know fuck all about you. I’m talking about Craigy back there. The Big C. King of the Wings. A couple of the boys did short time at Ford and said he was a wanker then. Doesn’t look like much has changed.”
“I ran the wings from outside,” Mike declared, trying to sound convincing. “I’m the only one smart enough to not get banged up. He followed my orders.”
“Your brother beat a man to death, and I can respect that. I think you’re telling porkies about being the hidden partner, though. It sounds like a case of self-sacrifice to me. What do you think, lads?”
Menacing chuckles agreed with the analysis.
Lennie’s arm landed across Mike’s shoulders. “And I can respect that too, Mikey. But we are way past deals and talking. Way past.”
“Then just kill us and get it over with,” Mike croaked.<
br />
“All in good time, my son. Anyway, we’re here.”
A shrill whistle pierced the chill afternoon. Following a period of metal rattling against metal, they were forced forward over an uneven, rickety surface. What followed was a hellish trip of shouting, cursing, and unseen blows from adults and children alike. After thirty seconds, Mike collapsed, the combination of pain and lack of oxygen causing him to black out.
**********
“Mike. Craig. Thank you for joining me,” said a gentle female voice.
Mike tried to sit up, only to find he was secured to something. The individual layers of straps went all the way from ankle to the top of his chest, and both arms were tied securely to the cold steel frame at his side. As the hood was whipped off, he looked left and right at what appeared to be a hospital bed. An intravenous line was already in his arm, making him woozy on top of the recent unconsciousness. Craig was similarly bound to his left, totally unconscious. Another man lay to his right, but the straps only started at his thighs. There were no need for ankle straps as the lower portions of his leg were missing. Spots of fresh blood marred the recently changed dressing.
“I worried that my boy would go hungry through all this,” said Mrs Hampton from the shadows. “But it looks like I don’t have to concern myself anymore.”
Stepping in to the light, she led something by a leash. Something dead. Something that still moved. Something that gnawed gratefully on a severed limb.
Everything started to go dark. The last thing his mind registered was the insane grin and trail of spittle on the crazed face of his amputee bed fellow. Mike fainted again, but the welcoming void only provided a temporary surcease from the hideous fate that awaited.
THE END
Author Bio
Ricky Fleet has been a lifelong horror fan. One dark night, many years ago, he ‘borrowed’ a copy of Salem’s Lot from his mum’s bedside table. Sneaking it into his room, the terrifying visage of Barlow gazed out from the cover. Doomed townsfolk stretched into the distance, and in bold, silver font was a name - Stephen King. The story contained within those pages spawned an appetite for horror that has yet to be sated. Masterton, Lumley, Koontz, Laws, Herbert, Hutson, Laymon, Barker, and many more have influenced both his life and his writing.
His career took him into the plumbing and heating sector, keeping Britain’s homes warm and watered.
Born and raised in the UK, cups of tea are a non-negotiable staple of the English life and serve as brain fuel for his first love - writing.
With the Hellspawn series being enjoyed across the world, the growing saga has a dark edge that begins to explore the true horror of a world without rules. A nod to the master, George A. Romero. The only thing running on his zombies are the fluids of decay. What they lack in velocity, they more than make up for with utter remorselessness and insatiable hunger.
Infernal – Emergence is the first in his new demon series. A tale of conspiracy, untapped powers and the vast armies of Hell who yearn to tear our world apart. Only one man stands in their way; he just doesn’t know it yet.
His latest release – Devoured World – takes a new and terrifying look at the question ‘Are we alone in the universe.’ It appeared to be a gift; it was, in fact, a terrible curse. Nuclear Armageddon. A dead world. Billions of mutants roaming the darkened wasteland. These are the least of the survivor’s problems. The aliens are coming, and then the true war will begin.
You can find Ricky at the following places:
On Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Ricky-Fleet/e/B072C2GX6X
Author page
https://www.facebook.com/Author-Ricky-Fleet-751475768315453/
Hellspawn fan group page
https://www.facebook.com/groups/175304226349208/
HELLSPAWN BOOK SERIES LINKS
Hellspawn
UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hellspawn-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01A2LLELA/
US - https://www.amazon.com/Hellspawn-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01A2LLELA/
Hellspawn Odyssey
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hellspawn-Odyssey-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01EJ0OQ5G/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Hellspawn-Odyssey-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01EJ0OQ5G/
Hellspawn Sentinel
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hellspawn-Sentinel-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01LYST98B/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Hellspawn-Sentinel-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01LYST98B/
Hellspawn Requiem
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hellspawn-Requiem-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B071YB2MLS/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Hellspawn-Requiem-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B071YB2MLS/
Hellspawn Dominion
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hellspawn-Dominion-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B076CS8Y75/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Hellspawn-Dominion-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B076CS8Y75/
Hellspawn Retribution
UK- https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hellspawn-Retribution-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B07P5FF5JN
US- https://www.amazon.com/Hellspawn-Retribution-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B07P5FF5JN
INFERNAL SERIES BOOK LINKS
Infernal Emergence
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Infernal-Emergence-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01N78QYE0/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Infernal-Emergence-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B01N78QYE0/
Infernal Revelation
UK- https://www.amazon.co.uk/Infernal-Revelation-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B07NJGLJ33
US- https://www.amazon.com/Infernal-Revelation-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B07NJGLJ33
DEVOURED WORLD SERIES BOOK LINKS
Devoured World Volume One
UK- https://www.amazon.co.uk/Devoured-World-One-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B07J5YRDP1
US- https://www.amazon.com/Devoured-World-One-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B07J5YRDP1
Devoured World Volume Two
UK- https://www.amazon.co.uk/Devoured-World-Two-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B0841Q3Z96
US- https://www.amazon.com/Devoured-World-Two-Ricky-Fleet-ebook/dp/B0841Q3Z96
ANTHOLOGY BOOK LINKS
Maximus Shock
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Maximus-Shock-Collected-Madness-Terror-ebook/dp/B01N9W6Q6J/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Maximus-Shock-Collected-Madness-Terror-ebook/dp/B01N9W6Q6J/
Tales from the Zombie Road – The Long Haul Anthology
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Tales-Zombie-Road-Long-Anthology-ebook/dp/B077CD7VBJ/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Tales-Zombie-Road-Long-Anthology-ebook/dp/B077CD7VBJ/
Treasured Chests – Breast Cancer Charity Anthology
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Treasured-Chests-Anthology-registered-Charity-ebook/dp/B075DGW3PZ/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Treasured-Chests-Anthology-registered-Charity-ebook/dp/B075DGW3PZ/