Glen snorted with laughter. He snapped Miles’s neck with one hand and let the vicar’s body slump to the floor of his church.
Richard choked on his own words. “G-Glen, w-what have you done?”
Glen glowered at him and all became clear: this was no longer Glen. His eyes were black cauldrons of hate, and several of his teeth had fallen out.
Richard shuffled backwards, trying to get up without turning his back. “You’re one of them.”
Glen snorted with more laughter. “You are a worm.”
Richard clambered up to his feet in time to dodge Glen’s attempts to grab him. He stumbled over to his wife and pulled her away. “Where’s Dillon?”
“In the vestry.”
“Then let’s get him.”
They leapt down the steps before the altar and jinked into a small anti-chamber at the side of the church. Glen was right on their heels, but Richard had to know his son was okay.
Shirley sat up against the wall clutching her chest. She was dead.
Heart attack?
Dillon was cowering beneath an oak desk. When he spotted Richard his teary eyes sparkled with relief. “Dad!”
“It’s okay, son. It’s—”
Glen bundled into the back of him and sent him sprawling into Jen. She tumbled awkwardly with a pained screech. Seeing his wife hurt made Richard see red, and he spun on Glen with his telescopic baton held high above his head. The blow caught Glen’s shoulder hard enough to push him back.
“Who are you?” Richard demanded.
“I am death,” was all Glen said before launching himself at Richard.
This time Richard made firm contact with Glen’s skull, the baton striking so hard that one of his eyeballs bulged from its socket. Glen slumped to his knees. Like an executioner, Richard brought the baton down again, aiming for the back of the neck.
The blow turned Glen off like a light, and he fell onto his face without a single sound or movement. Richard stood there for a moment, heaving like a rabid beast. His humanity came back to him a moment later, just when he feared it was gone forever, and he spun around to embrace his family.
Jen groped her ankle and hissed through her teeth. “I think… I think it’s just sprained. I’ll be okay.”
“Dad?” Dillon came out from beneath the table. “Mrs Shirley…”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He gave Dillon the biggest hug ever and didn’t want to let go, but they had to get out of there. No telling what was happening outside.
Jen limped along with his help as they exited the anti-chamber. The church had emptied, and Richard looked back sadly as they left Miles’s body lying on the floor. The vicar had brought them all together and housed them. Without the man’s hospitality, they might be dead.
Outside, Hell had not retreated. Fire still raged in the road and had started to lick at the barricade. People screamed everywhere. Bodies littered the pavement—human and otherwise.
Demon fought man and the fight was bloody. They spilled so much human blood that the floor was slick with it. So much chaos.
Richard trod on something that might have been a length of intestine. “We need to get out of here.”
Jen shook her head, horrified by what she was seeing. “No, we have to help. That monster took Glen’s body and killed Miles. We need to stay and fight these things, Richard.”
“But Dillon?”
Dillon had his head buried in his mother’s shoulder. With Jen’s ankle, they would struggle to escape even if they tried. Their only hope might be to win this fight.
But it was impossible.
Ahead, Riaz came briefly into view. His shirt was torn open, and his baton dripped with blood. He was an animal, teeth bared as he cleaved open skulls with wild abandon. Yet it was hard to spot anybody else because burnt monsters filled every inch of Richard’s vision. He shook his head. “I can’t let us do this. We’re leaving. We’ll find a car and get somewhere. Soon there won’t be anybody left.”
Jen seemed to battle internally, her eyes red and brimming. “Okay, you’re right. We have to get Dillon to safety.”
Richard nodded, glad to have the decision made. “Come on, we’ll head around the back of the post office. There’ll be plenty of cars parked behind it. We’ll think about how to get one started when we get there.”
They began to move. Richard felt fish hooks in his heart as he fled the battle. Could he ever forgive himself? He looked at his terrified son and knew that he would. Still, he could not help himself but to take one last look back at the people he was deserting.
He spotted Aaron, and was glad the lad still lived, but none of his friends had made it. Richard saw them dead in a pile. Aaron sobbed madly as he stabbed and thrust at the enemy. The lad was determined to go down fighting.
What was he doing?
He had to go back. At least try to get those left alive out of there.
“Jen, keep heading for the post office. I’m going to try and—”
His wife’s screams cut him off.
Richard spun around to see Jen in the clutches of a monster. She threw Dillon out of harm’s way, even as Skullface reached down and gouged out her eyes. Her entire body shook, a seizure strong enough to snap her spine. Richard wailed as Skullface slid his fingers so far into his wife’s eye sockets that the back of her skull broke apart.
Jen’s arms flung out to her sides and clutched at thin air.
“Mummy!”
Richard grabbed Dillon and yanked him back. He glared at Skullface and screamed. “You fucking bastard!” He swung the baton with every fibre in his body. The steel connected with chalky white skull bone.
Snap!
It was not the sound of Skullface’s cranium breaking, but that of the telescopic baton breaking in two. Richard stood there in shock as the slender monster before him smiled despite having no lips. Its smouldering eyes seemed ready to erupt into hellish infernos.
Jen’s body slumped to the ground, her ruined skull thumping against the pavement. A jet of fluid shot from her left eye socket. Skullface stamped his foot and turned Jen’s head to dust. The bellow of laughter that followed was mocking, tormenting.
Dillon wailed.
Richard was unarmed, but that didn’t stop him from throwing himself at the creature that had just destroyed the love of his life. He hammered both fists against its rib cage so hard that his knuckles bled. The whole time Skullface just stood there laughing. Eventually, Richard’s arms gave out, and he slumped to one knee. He glared up at his tormentor and spat. “You won’t win.”
Skullface stopped laughing. In a raspy voice like a swarm of bees, he said, “We have already won.”
The abomination raised his bony hand into the air above Richard’s head, ready to strike.
“Daddy!”
Richard closed his eyes. “Run, Dillon. Run wherever you can and hide.”
“No!”
An almighty impact sent Richard onto his back, but when he opened his eyes he saw Leonard, the guy who had brought Glen back to the camp. The man still wore his leather jacket, but it was now ripped and slick with blood. The cricket bat he held in his hand was broken in two, a wide piece embedded in the side of Skullface’s jaw.
The monster staggered, blasting out a ferocious roar.
Leonard grabbed Dillon and pulled him. Looking at Richard, he screamed, “Get up! Those of us left are getting the hell out of here.”
Richard didn’t argue. He scrambled to his feet and ran after the man who had just saved him. But it would all be for nothing. Dillon had just lost his mother.
Richard had just lost his wife.
Skullface was right. The demons had already won.
The entire area around the church was a bloodbath. Blood formed a river in the road, and the fires had claimed the buildings on either side. Demons swarmed everywhere.
Riaz fought up ahead, gathering those still breathing to his side. Aaron was there too, standing amidst only a dozen survivors—all that remained of near
ly a hundred souls. He held a bloody knife in each hand and growled hysterically at the demons racing towards them.
Riaz spotted Richard and came running. “We have to go now. Richard, where’s Jen? We have to move.”
Richard flinched at the sound of his wife’s name.
Riaz seemed to understand. “Shit, sorry.”
“I need to get Dillon to safety.”
Riaz nodded, and they moved in a group, gathering whoever was left.
“Where do we go?” asked Aaron. “Where?”
There were demons everywhere by now. Burnt men stalked every inch of the road and pavement. The only thing giving the survivors a chance was that the demons were occupied with ripping apart the wounded and dying. Dozens moaned on the ground, begging for help, but they were soon silenced by the tearing out of their throats.
“The newspaper,” said Richard.
Riaz frowned. “What?”
“The reporters I spoke to last night, they were from The Slough Echo. It’s nearby.”
“Then let’s go,” said Leonard, jabbing his broken cricket bat into a burnt man’s snarling face.
They altered course and headed across the high street and through an alleyway between two banks. It took them towards the college. The newspaper offices were nearby, housed in a mid-sized office block with giant printing presses visible through the ground-floor windows—Richard had taken Dillon to see them once. It would not withstand a siege, but if they got there without being seen…
They tore through the college car park and campus, Richard hopped an abandoned bicycle and stopping to make sure Dillon kept up. Unlike Aaron, all tears and emotion, Dillon was expressionless, his sunken eyes half closed.
“It’ll be all right, sweetheart.”
Dillon said nothing, but at least he kept on running.
Soon they reached the rear of the campus, heading across a grassy courtyard. The moon hung overhead and made the surface of the grass shimmer like shards of glass. The college structures were unlit rectangles against an inky black sheet.
Movement up ahead.
“Someone’s there,” said Riaz, pointing to a small shack that may have been a bike shelter. “Come on out.”
They all halted in their tracks and stared apprehensively at the small structure ahead. There was most definitely movement coming from its rear edge. At first, it looked like it might be just one person hiding out, but then several shapes emerged from the shadows.
Eventually dozens.
Too many.
Aaron raised his knives up in front of him. “Demons.”
Richard chewed at his bottom lip. Yes, demons, but not like before. These were not burnt men. These were some kind of animal shape—like apes.
Loosing an ear-piercing screech, the pack of creatures spilled out from the bike shed and raced towards Richard’s group. By now, the survivors were used to fighting. No one backed away—not even Dillon.
Richard was still unarmed, so he kicked out at the first creature that came near. He caught it in the torso and sent it onto its back. Before it had time to right itself, Richard stamped on its skull—three times before it stopped moving.
Aaron stabbed and hacked with his knives. Leonard stabbed and swiped with his splintered cricket bat. Riaz swung his baton. The other survivors, who Richard knew only by face, fought bravely too, scraping with whatever they held on to.
But, one by one, the survivors fell. The apes were quick, and dodging them was difficult. A barrel-chested, bearded man beside Richard swung a hammer and missed. Off balance, he could not fight back as one of the snarling apes clawed at his neck and dug out a bundle of nerves, veins, and tendons. It looked like spaghetti.
More creatures emerged from the shadows between the buildings. More apes came.
Richard was sweating, his mouth hanging open as he fought for breath. He backed up against Dillon, keeping his son behind him. His fight was almost gone, but what could he do? The Church lay at his back along with certain death, but the way forward was no better. They were all going to die. Dillon would be alone as monsters feasted upon his flesh. The thought reignited Richard’s fury and allowed him to fight on a while longer, but it couldn’t last forever. His fellow survivors continued falling around him while the enemy continued to grow.
Riaz fell to one knee, bleeding from his shoulder. Leonard stumbled, looking ready to drop dead. Demon and human blood filled the chilly night air like a heavy mist. The smell of war was rancid.
“I’m done,” said Aaron, now in possession of only a single knife. “I can’t fight anymore.”
They backed up against one another, forming a semi-circle with Dillon in the centre. Richard, Aaron, Riaz, and Leonard. All that was left of a hundred refugees from the church. Richard kicked out, but then fell to his knees. His head hung, exhausted. The next attack would kill him. He couldn’t lift an arm.
They were done. Finished.
A creature reared up, prepared to pounce on its weakened prey.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The ape’s head disappeared from its shoulders. Several of its brethren fell too. Gunfire broke out and echoed off the tall buildings. The sound of salvation. Richard had been saved for a second time tonight.
“It’s the fucking Army,” cried Aaron.
But it was not the Army. Only a single rifle rang out.
Yet, the sudden attack at the demon’s flanks had been enough to disorientate them. They broke apart in confusion, not knowing where the attack was coming from.
Tat-tat-tat.
More of the demons fell. Rifle shots perfectly aimed.
“Over there!” Riaz pointed. “Over there.”
Richard looked up and saw three people across the road. Only one of them was a soldier, but his two companions were waving them over. Come on!
“Go!” said Richard, grabbing Dillon and getting them moving. While the demons were suppressed, the group was able to get a head start and got across the road without resistance. There, they were grabbed by the three strangers.
“Move!” said the soldier, lining up another barrage of well-placed shots.
They reached the T-junction at the end of the road. At the bottom of the hill lay the police station, where Richard assumed they might be headed, but instead the soldier led them along another side road—towards The Slough Echo.
“You’re the soldier from last night,” said Richard.
“Corporal Martin. You were the copper we spoke to?”
“Yes.”
“Good to see you again.”
“Likewise.”
They carried on running, right up to the doors of the Echo which had been barricaded from the inside. A man waited there and moved furniture aside to let them through the door. He was severely injured, entire face glistening with fresh burns. One eye seared shut. Richard recognised the man from his clothes and what remained of his greying hair. It was one of the two reporters who had been in the jeep with Corporal Martin last night. What had happened to him?
“Some racket you made out there,” the disfigured man said.
Corporal Martin grunted. “If I hadn’t made noise, I wouldn’t have got these folks in one piece.”
Together, they shoved the barricade back in place and raced up a stairwell that filled the lobby. They went up several flights before they stopped.
The disfigured man appraised them then. “Are you all that’s left?”
Richard nodded. “A lot of us ran when the battle began, but we’re the only ones left who stayed and fought.”
“Then you are worth ten of those who fled,” Corporal Martin told them.
Richard sighed. “They were just scared. I knew it would happen. For a while, it looked like we might make it, but then…” Richard thought about Skullface and what the demon had done to Jen.
Corporal Martin patted him on the back. “Let’s go inside.”
They headed through a set of double doors and entered a busy office. It could be forgivable to think all was normal w
ith the world if the newsroom was anything to go by. Reporters tapped away at keyboards while runners moved between desks with bundles of paper. Richard looked for the female reporter he had spoken to, but couldn’t spot her.
An old woman came spilling out of an office and threw her arms out. “Welcome! I’m so glad to see someone else alive in this shit-stinking acid trip.”
Leonard was the least shell-shocked, apparently, because he was the first to step forward and offer a handshake. “Thank you for rescuing us.”
The woman shook his hand. “I’d been hoping for more of you. I’m Carol, and I run the Echo.”
“H-How did you know about us?” asked Richard.
The old woman smiled. “Your colleague, Glen, came to us this morning. Said he was gathering up survivors to defend the town.” She looked at each of them and then let her smile drop. “I take it he isn’t amongst you? Shame, he promised me a drink after all this was over.”
Richard was surprised to hear that Glen had been here. Obviously, it had been before he was… possessed… or whatever had happened to him. “Why did Glen come here?”
“He wanted us to post something on the website, telling people to head to the church. We did, but I admit it only got a few hits. Most of our traffic is coming from all over the globe, not so much of it local.”
Riaz frowned. “Why is the world interested in a local newspaper?”
Carol grinned. “Because we are the last bastion of knowledge in this war. Yesterday, one of our reporters, Mina, set up a website sharing whatever we could find out about the demons. It’s been helping people. Do you know that a few hours ago, someone closed one of those gates? Did you know that iron wards off the bastards? These are things we can use. Soon as we find them out, we share ‘em on the net.”
Aaron chuckled. “You’re like the underground resistance or something.”
Carol pinched the lad’s cheek like he was eight. “That we are, lad. Can’t let those buggers have it all their own way, can we?” She waved an arm at the office behind her. “Take a seat. I’ll get you all a cuppa. You’ve already met Corporal Martin, and Tom and Annie.”
Corporal Martin had already wandered off, but Tom and Annie nodded hello. They were obviously a couple because the tiny brunette leaned her head against the taller blond man as she spoke. “We went to the police station for help this morning, but no one was there. Corporal Martin found us and brought us here. Seemed like the least we could do was help bring you guys in.”
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 51