Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6

by Wright, Iain Rob

  No war has ever been won without contingencies.

  To help manage the population, both military and civilian, Thomas had promoted several men to positions of high command. He was travelling to go and meet with them right now. His orders would be concise, for time was of the essence, but everyone would be on the same page. A great army was to depart Portsmouth at first light tomorrow, setting out to reclaim their homeland. Great Britain would be reborn.

  Diane didn’t know why she’d been summoned to what Thomas called the ‘war room’, but her strange new friend, Damien, assured her that everything was okay. Tom hadn’t given up her role in the planned coup, nor had he shared her name with the people he’d recruited on her behalf. However, someone Tom trusted had clearly betrayed him, and despite Damien’s assurances, Diane feared she was walking into a trap.

  “Stop worrying,” said Damien for the umpteenth time. The more she got used to his face, the more she noticed the tiny details. A thin scar dissected his right eyebrow and another sliced his bald head. His right wrist was ringed by a line of thickened flesh, like his hand had been cut off and reattached.

  “Who are you, Damien? Where did you come from?”

  “I’m a fighter like you, but if I told you where I came from, you wouldn’t believe me. Not yet, anyway. The only thing you need to know is that the guy I work for disappeared and left me stuck here with nothing to do. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in Portsmouth, trying to see where I fit in. I know what you’ve been doing, Diane, and I want to keep you alive long enough to succeed. Thomas doesn’t have anything on you, so don’t give him reason to think of you as anything other than a harmless girl. Just go in there and see what’s on the cards.”

  “And what if it’s bad?”

  “I wish I could say I’d pull your arse out of the fire, but I didn’t bring an army with me. Keep your cool, and be smart. It’s your only option.”

  Diane tried to shoo the butterflies in her stomach, but they refused to retreat. In fact, they laid eggs and gave birth to caterpillars. Thomas had paid her zero interest since Wickstaff’s death, but now he was suddenly summoning her to a meeting, and only a few short hours after executing Tom and his friends.

  This can’t end well.

  If it looks like he’s going to have me shot, I’ll do everything I can to slice his throat open first.

  She took a deep breath and tried to keep from shaking as she walked down the long hallway inside the port administration building. She entered by a door on the left and was surprised to find several people already inside. Commander Klein stood at the back of the room, and seeing his friendly face was a relief. The brief smile he gave her settled her nerves more than anything else could have. She approached the German and asked him why he was there.

  “Ze answer alludes me also, Diane. Perhaps ze general wishes to have us all shot.”

  “Not funny. You saw what happened yesterday?”

  “Ja. Let us not speak of it. Young Tom was a fine canasta player.”

  General Thomas entered the room through a separate door. Everyone – four men but no women besides Diane – stood to attention. She was no soldier, so she failed to salute the general. It earned her a glare. A bad start to whatever this was.

  “Thank you for your presence,” said Thomas, eyeballing each of them in turn. Klein behaved as if he had some place better to be. “I am sure you are wondering why I summoned you here. Each of you is now part of my executive cabinet. Commander Klein, I understand you don’t like to acknowledge orders, but as you have possession of our only nuclear capabilities, it felt prudent to include you.”

  Commander Klein said nothing.

  Thomas went around the room introducing the middle-aged white men one after another. “Colonel Wanstead is in charge of defence at Portsmouth. He will take control of security, law and order, et cetera.”

  Wanstead raised a hand briefly to say hello. He was a chubby man, which was a rarity these days with rationing in effect. Diane had seen him around base before, making himself heard whenever Thomas wasn’t around. He always spoke slowly, each word perfectly pronounced. “It is an honour to receive such an important duty. I shall endeavour to carry out my obligations in an exemplary fashion.”

  Thomas pointed to the next man, thinner and taller than Wanstead, with a long nose that seemed custom-made for snobbishly probing the air. “Commander Morrissey, you shall command our navy. Your immediate orders are to appoint your own sub-commanders and separate the fleet into domestic and operational. You will also inherit the small fleet previously commanded by that treacherous Yank, Commander Tosco.”

  Morrissey sneered, making his already harsh face even harsher. “Less said about him the better, if you wish to hear my opinion, sir.”

  “Indeed.”

  Thomas turned to the remaining man, whose face was leathery and old. His eyes were a piercing grey. His lips were thin and pale. His neat brown hair suggested he held high standards for himself even during the apocalypse. Thomas spoke to him a little less abruptly than the others. “Colonel Livingstone, you are a veteran of countless skirmishes, more than I can name. Many would think you unkillable, and it is without question that you should take operational command of Portsmouth’s ground forces. You will answer directly to me in the field.”

  Colonel Livingstone saluted. “It’s an honour, sir. Might I enquire as to Colonel Cross’s role in the battles ahead?”

  It was a good question. Diane had been wondering herself why Tony hadn’t been mentioned already. Wasn’t he General Thomas’s second in command? Thomas nodded as if he also considered it a good question. “Colonel Cross is conducting an important mission on behalf of Portsmouth. Upon his return, he will most likely work alongside me in executive planning. Without him being here, however, I cannot confirm his place in events to come.”

  Diane didn’t like the ambiguity of the statements. She knew Tony had left to search for Mass, but there was no way Thomas would want the Urban Vampires back in Portsmouth. Mass was a tough son of a bitch who wouldn’t swallow Thomas’s brand of bullshit. She suspected Tony’s mission was intended to fail.

  Thomas waved an arm. “Okay, men, dismissed.”

  The men began to file out of the room, which sparked Diane’s anxiety and made her speak up. “Um… can I ask why you summoned me here, sir?”

  “Ah, yes, Diane, I almost forgot you. You acted as General Wickstaff’s head of security, yes?”

  Diane nodded, which prompted Thomas to frown at her and tilt his head as if trying to hear her. “Y-Yes, sir. I was her bodyguard and head of security.”

  “Needless to say, you failed,” said Colonel Livingstone, a smirk escaping his lips.

  “She is just one woman,” said Commander Klein, not bothering to make eye contact with anyone. “It is a miracle she protected Wickstaff as long as she did. I doubt anyone here would have done better, ja?”

  Livingstone’s smirk turned into a distasteful scowl. He was about to reply to Klein, but Thomas cut him off. “It is true, Diane had an impossible task. We live in the most dangerous of times, which is why I will take care of my own security from now on.”

  Diane swallowed. “Then why am I—”

  “I wish for you to use your skills in another way. You know Portsmouth and its people, and you have a certain knack for remaining unnoticed. Why, you’re just a tiny waif of a girl, aren’t you?”

  She wanted to kill him, but Damien’s words kept echoing in her head. Don’t give Thomas any reason to see her as anything but an unimportant girl.

  “I-I will be useful wherever I can—”

  “I want you to find those plotting rebellion. As you’ve undoubtedly seen, I dealt with several traitors yesterday, but I am under no illusion that there are more. The weeds must be yanked if Portsmouth is to ever truly flourish. You were close to Wickstaff, which means those loyal to her will instinctively trust you.”

  Diane’s mouth was dry, and her voice came out in a croak. “I-I suppose so.”r />
  “May I ask you a question?”

  All eyes in the room were on her as she nodded meekly. Inside, she was a cauldron of bubbling hatred.

  “Diane, are you loyal to Portsmouth? Are you loyal to me?”

  Every cell in her body yelled no, but if that word came out of her mouth, she’d catch a bullet in the skull. “You can trust me, sir. I swear.”

  How’s fuck you, bastard, for swearing?

  Thomas stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Good. If you are truly loyal, then I expect a list of names in due course.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  Diane turned to leave, but Thomas called her back. “Understand me, young lady, Wickstaff might have been relaxed about a very many things, but I am a different breed of animal. When I dismiss you, I expect you to salute.”

  Diane had never given a salute in her life. She wasn’t a member of the military, even with her recently gained ability to use a variety of firearms. Playing along was the smartest option, though, so she gave in. “I apologise, General Thomas.” She snapped off her best attempt to emulate what she had seen others do. “Permission to be dismissed, sir?”

  So I can go back to plotting your death?

  Thomas nodded, and Diane left the room in a hurry, followed by the small group of middle-aged white men. She picked up speed and left them behind, not wanting to chat or even make eye contact. Considering how quickly she exited the port administration building, it was a surprise that Commander Klein caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back a step. “Your anger is showing, Diane. I suggest you verk on that.”

  She glared at the German and shrugged her arm free of his grasp. “That piece of shit! That skinny, stuck-up piece of shit. He made me salute him, when all I want to do is shove a blade in his throat.”

  “War is a game, and Thomas has made his move. Now you must take time to consider yours.” He put a finger to his lips to shush her. General Livingstone walked past, smirking at Diane and sharing a chuckle with himself. Usually, she would’ve asked him what he was fucking laughing at, but Klein gave her a warning stare not to do so.

  Once they were alone again, Diane glared at Klein. “What’s to consider? Thomas can piss right off if he thinks I’ll rat out the people who want him dead.”

  “Then you shall be dead, ja? Do you not understand? Thomas has manoeuvred you into a situation you cannot vin. You either give up ze people you recruited, or turn up empty of hand and reveal your disloyalty. Either way, Thomas’s enemies die.”

  “I’ll say I couldn’t find out who they were.”

  Klein rolled his eyes at her like she was a silly girl. It made her furious. “Thomas vill know you are lying. I suspect he already knows you are a traitor.”

  “Then why not just shoot me?”

  “Perhaps he vud like more evidence before he executes another of Wickstaff’s people. Or perhaps your squirming amuses him. I have known many men who enjoy such things.”

  Diane sighed. “I’m screwed then. I didn’t even have a plan, but whatever hope I had of taking the bastard down has just gone up in smoke.”

  Klein shook his head and smiled at her like a mischievous grandpa. “Perhaps not. A veek enemy is still an enemy, and even a parting shot can still hit ze heart. Be calm, be patient, and make your move when you see it. You might have only ze one shot, so make it count.”

  Diane thought about it. “You’re right. I know what to do. There’s a reason I’ve survived this long when everyone I care about is dead.”

  Klein nodded and walked away.

  It was late in the day, and the demon attack had left everyone a little high on adrenaline, so they headed off-road and made camp. Mass had never met Colonel Cross before, but Cullen – a man whom he trusted completely – seemed unsettled by something. Mass needed to know what was going on before he was willing to travel the roads and risk being attacked by more demons. That giant beast still stalked the horizon and was no doubt sending out its hordes to find them.

  They had found safety in a nearby field, pitching their tents at its centre. Mass and his companions had no equipment, but Cullen and the other Urban Vampires had brought along spares. The women had been allocated three tents, while Tox, Addy, Mass, and Smithy agreed to double up with other Vampires.

  Being amongst his people again lifted Mass’s spirits. All he had been doing lately was losing people, so to be surrounded by people he cared about again was an unexpected blessing. It didn’t mean they were safe, but sitting in a green field as afternoon gave way to evening, Mass was at peace.

  The women from the farm finally appeared hopeful. Until now, Portsmouth could have been a giant lie, but seeing twenty well-armed, well-fed soldiers made it all the more believable that there was a settlement nearby.

  Cullen seemed like he wanted to talk, but he hadn’t yet found an opportunity to get Mass alone. Colonel Cross and his men had pitched their tents in a semi-circle opposite those set up by Cullen’s group. Mass didn’t know if he was being rescued or guarded. If they hadn’t been so shaken up by the attack, they could’ve been halfway to Portsmouth by now, but the risk was too great. In a straight chase, the demons would have caught them. And it wasn’t only adrenaline that had exhausted Mass. When Rick had healed him, it had left him feeling reborn. Now, he felt heavy and depressed, like he just wanted to sleep.

  Rick came and sat beside Mass on the grass. The peculiar man had lingered on the periphery for the last hour, staring off into the trees that bordered the field. Maybe he had demon radar. It wouldn’t be surprising.

  “Hey, Rick. What’s up?”

  “You will feel normal again soon,” he said, and then added context. “I used life itself to heal you, which is why you felt so virile, but it has worn out your body’s reserves and you need rest. Tomorrow, your strength shall return.”

  Mass nodded as if he understood, though he didn’t really. “Thank you for what you did, Rick. We only met the once, and you were a weird dude then, but now… you seem different.”

  “I am different.”

  “So what the fuck are you?”

  “An angel. An angel that brought you back from the brink of death. God’s miracles exist, even now.”

  “An angel? I thought the angels were all a hundred feet tall.”

  “In their true forms, yes. This is not my true form.”

  Mass waited for more but received only silence. “Okay then. Good talking with you, man. Maybe when you get a minute, you can—”

  “These men plot,” Rick interrupted, staring at the assembled tents. “It pains me to see no change in humanity.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Rick turned his gaze to Mass. “But you have changed, haven’t you? You are a better man than you were. Did you follow your friend’s example, or was it always in you?”

  “Huh? You mean Vamps? Yeah, maybe it was him that caused me to change, but…” He shrugged. “I dunno, I kind of want to think it was all me. I grew up in a bad place surrounded by bad people. It’s like being in prison. You can try to do good, but as soon as you do, you hit bars. Eventually, you stop reaching out and just accept your life inside a cell. If the end of the world did anything for me, it got rid of those bars.”

  Rick nodded. “I understand. Thank you.” He stood up and walked away, back off into the field.

  “Weird bloke.”

  Cullen caught Mass’s eye from the next tent over, and his friend mouthed a word. It was unclear, but it seemed like he was saying ‘be ready’.

  Colonel Cross appeared in front of Mass, unarmed and alone. “Can we speak for a moment, Mass?”

  “Yeah, no probs.” He stood with effort, bones creaking. “Shit, I feel like a bus hit me.”

  “I expect you’ve been though the mill. We can talk here if you’d like, but I thought it would be best to be away from anybody earwigging.”

  Mass put his hands on his lower back and groaned. “I doubt you plan on sharing
anything good. Let’s go over here a bit, but not too far. I don’t trust you.”

  Colonel Cross didn’t appear offended. In fact, he chuckled. “I’ve been told you were smart. Looks like it’s true.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as smart, but I wasn’t born yesterday, Colonel, that’s for sure.”

  “Please, just Tony. I’m not even a colonel. I’m a sergeant at heart.”

  That made sense. Nothing about Colonel Cross suggested officer. He was a rough, no-nonsense type who seemed uncomfortable with formality. He reminded Mass of someone: Sergeant Honeywell.

  Hope you’re somewhere back with your family, Rich.

  “Okay, Tony, let’s get this over with before I collapse.” Tony reached out to help Mass, but Mass waved him away. Slowly, they walked twenty metres from the nearest tent. “So what do you want to speak about, Tony?”

  “Amanda Wickstaff.”

  “First name basis, huh? You must have made quite the—”

  “She’s dead.”

  Mass stumbled. Fortunately, Tony steadied him before he fell, which was good because he might not have made it up again. He glanced over at the tents, wondering if anyone had seen his weakness. It seemed like the coast was clear. “What d’you mean, she’s dead? She can’t be. I don’t believe you.”