Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6

by Wright, Iain Rob

  The cohort cheered. They were about to face monsters in the night, but every face was determined. Every weapon was loaded. Portsmouth did not cower.

  Wickstaff raised her assault rifle to show she was ready. “You people of Portsmouth make me proud to be human. Now, let’s go send some demons back to Hell.”

  Another cheer, but as it died down, a shouting voice took over. “Stop this at once.” General Thomas marched through the crowd, a group of uniformed soldiers trailing behind him as well as Colonel Cross. “Brigadier Wickstaff, you are under arrest for insubordination and incitement of mutiny. You are to stand down immediately.”

  Wickstaff chuckled. “And I say, fuck you, General.”

  Thomas’s men raised their weapons, but they were met with the cacophonous clicking of a hundred weapons being cocked and primed. Wickstaff’s army aimed at Thomas and his men.

  In the white glow of the spotlights, Thomas looked like an enraged phantom. “This is treason! I am in charge of what is left of this ruin of a country and I will restore it. If you oppose me, you will be shot.” He lifted a pistol and pointed it right at Wickstaff.

  Wickstaff opened up her body, presenting a larger target. “So shoot me, General. If you think that’s the right call, do it!”

  Thomas’s hand shook as though he would actually do it. Maddy went to step in front of Wickstaff, but the woman shook her head and shooed her away. “I don’t need a bodyguard, Maddy. Not inside my own city.”

  Thomas’s moustache flickered in anger. “Colonel Cross, you are to relieve Brigadier Wickstaff from her duties and lead these men out yourself. We are wasting time, and our men need rescuing.”

  Colonel Cross was clearly not happy with the unfolding events, but he obeyed the command, although he left his rifle hanging from his neck strap and approached Wickstaff with his palms out. He was forced to stop when a guardsman stood in his way. It was Tom, the guardsman. He didn’t aim his rifle but held it firmly across his chest. Then another three men stepped up beside him, forming a wall. Cross didn’t know what to do. He still kept his hands off his weapon.

  “This is mutiny,” Thomas screeched. “You will all be shot.”

  Tom smiled. “I was a painter and decorator when the world ended. I never made an oath to serve anybody. I serve General Wickstaff because I choose to, not because I have to. No matter what happens, I won’t serve an asshole like you.”

  Thomas pointed his pistol at Tom, but Tom didn’t flinch.

  Cross turned to his superior. “Sir, I advise caution.”

  “You do not caution me, Colonel. You were nothing but a grunt when you staggered out of the desert. Don’t you see what’s happening here?”

  “Yes, sir, I do, and if you pull the trigger on any of these people, I fear things will continue to happen. Let’s just focus on the priority right now. We need to pull our guys out of the fire.”

  Thomas bristled. His grey-white moustache twitched. Meanwhile, more men stood beside Tom, obscuring Wickstaff with a bigger and bigger wall. Maddy could no longer even see the woman, but she hoped she was smiling. She hoped that General Wickstaff appreciated what was happening here. Portsmouth was voting. And the result was a landslide.

  Thomas lowered his pistol with a growl. “This isn’t over. There shall be a reckoning.”

  Wickstaff parted the men in front of her so that she could face Thomas. “That, you can guarantee, General. Now, get your men out of my way. We have a mess to clean up.”

  Wickstaff turned and climbed one of the ladders leading up onto the top of the parked lorry and that prompted everyone to get going. There were four ladders in total, with the same amount leading down over the other side. Many of the barricades were dependent upon parked vehicles and ladders like this.

  Maddy made it over and joined the assembly on the other side. Despite their eagerness, everyone fell to silence and caution. They spread out in a line and began to stalk the main road. The screaming was less than a mile away. The gunshots sounded close. So did the monsters.

  Maddy heard hurrying footsteps behind her and turned to see Colonel Cross beside her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like? I’m going to rescue my men.”

  “Does Thomas know?”

  “It was his idea. Wants me to keep an eye on Wickstaff. Probably hoping I’ll put a bullet in her back.”

  Maddy glared at him. “I’d put one in you first.”

  “Relax. There’s only one reason I’m here, and that’s because a bunch of my men need help. I wasn’t always an officer. I served with those soldiers. Maybe if I’d gone out with them in the first place…”

  Maddy saw the torment and knew it was real. Cross had a face that seemed incapable of fallacy. “We’ll get them out of there,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Looks like Wickstaff was right about everything. We went rushing out for a fight without knowing a damned thing.”

  “The demons have changed back to what they were,” said Maddy. “I think we’ve been sensing it in the wind for a while here, but you and Thomas had no way of knowing. It should’ve been a routine search and destroy. Maybe it’s no one’s fault.”

  Cross grunted and then nodded. “You have a nice way of looking at things. I hope we can keep this from turning bad.”

  “I think we’re beyond that, Colonel.”

  “Yeah, I know. Sorry. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll die out here tonight.”

  She looked at him. He wasn’t apologising for anything he’d done, he was apologising for the man he served. He was a similar man to Tosco. Both men had their beliefs and stayed true to them for better or worse.

  Wickstaff gave a hand signal to halt. Everyone took a knee and raised their weapons. Then Wickstaff gave another signal to advance. The line moved forward, weapons pointing towards shop windows and alleyways. Whatever had befallen Thomas’s men, it had happened nearby. The screams were dying out and the gunfire had reduced to a trickle, but it was close. Another block or two. The Spinnaker Tower jutted out of the ruins less than a mile away and they were nearing the city’s pleasure pier. Its tall Ferris wheel was undamaged, and Wickstaff often spoke about her desire to reclaim the area for morale.

  A man ran out into the road, a soldier dressed in fatigues. He didn’t see the advancing army as he was utterly terrified and focused only on running. A moment later, a primate leapt out from a doorway and pinned the man down, tearing into his back with ferocious claws. Wickstaff raised her rifle and emptied four rounds into the demon, enough to see it dead.

  Then the battle began.

  At the sound of new gunfire, demons spilled out from the roads ahead, the usual variety of primates, burnt men, and zombies. One zombie was articulate enough to shout out in garbled tones, “Tear their throats!”

  Wickstaff fired again, which prompted her army to do the same. Before long, the streets were lit up with gunfire and spotlights from the boats. The demons came in droves, leaping from roofs and emerging from alcoves. In the harsh light, their skin seemed translucent and serpentine.

  Maddy hadn’t fired a weapon in some time, and her hands were shaking as she aimed her MP5 and pulled the trigger. Her very first shot hit a burnt man in the chest. After that, her confidence quickly grew. She knelt and started picking her shots while Cross did the same beside her. “There’s more than I expected,” he said as he pumped round after round through his rifle. “There’s fifty at least, if this is any indication.”

  Maddy knew he was right. In this one street alone, Maddy estimated a few dozen demons, and there must have been more that had attacked Thomas’s men. It was the biggest enemy congregation in Portsmouth since the Great Battle. The smell of rancid flesh filled the air as yet another wave of them rounded the corner.

  “Hold fast,” shouted Wickstaff. “Stay together.”

  The gunfire increased, demons dancing and jittering in the street as they were ripped apart, but as was always the threat, they kept on coming. Their advantage had always b
een in numbers and lack of fear.

  The first soldier went down, torn apart by a sprinting zombie. Thankfully, his screams were drowned out by the gunfire. More men fell. The sight of so much blood took Maddy back to the battle against Lord Amon. There had seemed no hope back then, but somehow they had survived, even if the cost had been significant. It’d been the last time she’d seen her friend, Rick. She wondered if he was still alive somewhere, still fighting. Or did he have the peace of death?

  A man to Maddy’s left hit the ground as a primate leapt on top of him. Immediately, she aimed and fired, killing the demon with her first shot to its skull. The man beneath was already dead though, his throat torn open.

  “Heads up!” Cross shouted.

  Maddy glanced up to see another demon coming from the direction of the first, slinking out from behind a parked minibus. She raised her rifle to fire, but an ear-piercing blast stunned her into inaction. Cross pulled her back behind him. His aim had been deadly, and the approaching demon now lay dead with a smoking bullet hole between its eyes.

  “Thanks!”

  “Don’t mention it, but you owe me a pint.”

  “I owe you a bottle.”

  “Advance,” yelled Wickstaff, signalling by throwing an arm forward. The crowd of demons was thinning. Thomas’s men were still alive and shouting for help. The line moved at a quick march, popping off shots left, right, and centre. Demons came from everywhere, but the balance had shifted and they could no longer swarm in sufficient numbers to overwhelm. Every time one appeared, they put it down with a deadly barrage of gunfire.

  They found Thomas’s men at the next intersection, holed up inside a corpse-littered petrol station. They were trying to maintain cover inside a small supermarket at the back of the forecourt. Its glass panes were thick and reinforced, but the sliding entry door was lying shattered on the ground. A stream of demons had already fought their way inside and were now stalking the remaining men around the aisles.

  Wickstaff sent everyone forward, and men and women rushed inside the building and shot up the demons from behind. The breathing room allowed Thomas’s remaining men to recover and fire from the front. Eventually, between them, they mopped up every demon and then the two groups met in the middle of the aisles, jubilant and grateful. Earlier that night, they had been untrusting strangers. Now they were battle-forged allies. Maddy still didn’t know what would happen later, but she knew that, if anything, tensions would at least be eased by this rescue mission.

  Cross came up behind Maddy and placed a hand on her back. She was full of adrenaline, so the sudden contact made her flinch. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad most of us are still alive.”

  “Your people are warriors. I’m not surprised, but it’s still impressive to see. They put their necks out for a bunch of men who tried to look down on them.”

  Maddy studied the scene inside the petrol station, saw Wickstaff’s men and Thomas’s men exchanging handshakes and pats on the back, and suddenly felt a pang of hope. She felt what Diane had spoken of: that she was a part of making sure there would be a tomorrow. There was more to do though – much more. She turned to Cross, all seriousness. “I’m going to kill General Thomas.”

  Smithy sat on a crate eating stale biscuits while the others talked. The door at the top of the stairs was holding up well, and every now and then a demon would screech as it accidentally made contact with the iron handle. They still wouldn’t have long, which was why he had thrown down his empty shotgun in exchange for a handgun he’d found in a carry case with twenty-four short round bullets. Until tonight he had never fired a shotgun or a handgun. It was surprisingly easy once you got used to the pure, explosive force of pulling a trigger.

  Gemma was still pleading her case, going over her plan for the third time. “I have keys to the coach,” she said. “We make it to the barn and drive the fuck out of here. Nas and I reinforced the coach inside and we have an iron chain wrapped around the front bumper. We’ll mow down any demons stupid enough to get in our way.”

  “Why don’t we just kill you and take the keys?” asked Addy quite reasonably. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the woman once in the last five minutes – barely even blinked.

  Gemma swallowed. “You could kill me, but you people are better than that, right? You can take me back to Portsmouth and lock me up. That’s what the good guys do, isn’t it?”

  Mass smirked. “We ain’t the good guys, love. Sorry.”

  “Wait,” said Smithy. “If the plan is to escape this basement, all guns blazing, then it would be better to have another pair of hands. We can’t afford to be killing our potential allies.”

  “Oh,” said Addy, “so we’re going to arm her now as well?”

  “We need her,” said Harriet. She too was glaring at Gemma. “Some of the girls in the containers are chained up. The ones who misbehaved, or the newer girls who haven’t been beaten into submission yet. There’s no key on their chains, just a padlock. A padlock only she and Naseem know the combination to.”

  Addy took one step forward and slapped Gemma in the face. “Spit it out, bitch. What number did you use to chain up a bunch of women like animals?”

  Gemma held her face in shock, but then a smile crept across her face. “You want the number, you’ll have to take me with you.”

  Mass folded his arms and grunted. “You really want to play this game?”

  “What other choice do I have?”

  Addy punched Gemma to the ground. Then she booted the woman in the ribs. The air escaped Gemma in one long, pained groan. Smithy winced. He’d never liked violence, especially when it was one-sided, but there was nothing he could do about this. Gemma had harmed these people, and it was their choice how they responded. While they might not be the ‘good guys’, they were certainly better than the people who had lived at this farm.

  Mass pulled Addy back to keep her from killing the woman. “Smithy is right,” he said. “We need every body available. It’ll be a nightmare as soon as we open that hatch. I would rather she gets torn apart by a demon while we make a run for it.”

  Addy growled, her eyes seeming like they might summon lasers and fry Gemma to a crisp. “Once we get those girls on board that bus, she and I have unfinished business.”

  Gemma spat blood and nodded. “Looking forward to it.”

  David piped up from the corner. He’d shaken off some of his daze but still seemed weak and sickly. Smithy felt sorry at the state of him. “We need to go soon. Crimolok is… he is still outside… outside front of house. I don’t think he knows we plan to escape from back of house.”

  Mass was grasping his ribs and wheezing a little, but he nodded enthusiastically at this. “Then maybe we have a shot at this. Everyone arm up and take a breath. We’re moving in five minutes, and then— Hey!” He stooped down and pulled an old, battered shotgun from one of the lower shelves.

  “What is it?” Smithy asked him.

  Mass looked at the old shotgun in his hands and smiled. “This belonged to a friend. Two minutes everyone. Be ready.”

  Smithy shivered, realising he might die in the next few moments. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt that, but this time it felt… undeniable. Mass looked like he might drop dead even before they left the basement. Dried blood caked his neck, and his face was the colour of bacon fat.

  “You’re hurt,” said Harriet, standing in front of Smithy and nodding at his arm. The gash left by the demon that had grabbed him was bleeding steadily. His wrist was slick and wet with his own blood.

  “Just a deep, agonising wound. I’m not dead though.”

  Harriet rummaged through a couple of boxes. Eventually she pulled out a yellow scarf. “I was hoping for bandages, but this will have to do. It’s too ugly to wear anyway.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “Please, let me. Every time the demons come, I fall to pieces, so right now, while I’m not a screaming mess, pleas
e just let me be useful.”

  Smithy smiled and let a little chuckle sound between them. Harriet was a good-looking young woman, but there were tiny cuts and larger bruises all over her. Her wrists were almost purple. “You’ve been through a lot,” he said.

  She didn’t look him in the eye as she shrugged. “We all have.”

  “Yeah, but there are different kinds of Hell. Some worse than others. Whatever happens, this place is behind you now. It’s over.”

  She stepped back from him for a moment, almost like she was afraid, but then she started wrapping his arm gently with the scarf. “I don’t think this world has anything left but horror. You don’t need to try to create a fantasy for me.”

  “I’m not! These guys are from Portsmouth, a real-life city with people and walls. There’s still hope for us – for everyone.”

  “Just have to make it through the Night of the Living Dead first, right?”

  “That was zombies, not demons, but close enough. After all the shit we’ve been through, getting out of here should be a cakewalk.”

  Harriet laughed. It was genuine, and obviously unexpected, because she covered her mouth and blushed. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed.”

  “It’s nice. I hope to see you do it more often.”

  “There! You’re all wrapped up. Want me to kiss it better?”

  Harriet was chuckling at her own joke, but Smithy one-upped her by holding up his bandaged arm. “It would be the most action I’ve had in nearly a year.”