Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6

by Wright, Iain Rob

  “Look, geezer, why are we having a pissing contest? We all need to stick together, innit? You boys must have served in the Middle East, yeah? Respect to that. You must’ve seen some real heavy shit.”

  The guard eyed Damien suspiciously. “You have no idea.”

  “I believe it. You know, I always wished I’d joined the army. Would’ve got me away from my old man for one thing.”

  The guard nodded. “Yeah, my old man weren’t up to much either. Barely knew him, to be honest. Guess it’s all in the past now though, so my advice is you get over it and move on before you get yourself shot. Thanks for sharing though.”

  “Don’t be like that, geezer. I’m just saying, we’re all the same, innit?”

  Mass moved his finger slowly towards his shotgun’s trigger. What the hell was Damien doing?

  The guard shouldered his rifle, ready to shoot. “Talk all you want, mate, but you ain’t coming through.”

  “Why do you insist on butting heads?” Damien yanked the guard’s rifle and planted a horrifying headbutt in the centre of the startled man’s face. His colleague reacted, but Damien spun around and dropped him with a roundhouse kick that would have made Jason Statham proud. The guards hit the ground, both unconscious. Damien immediately started jostling their prone bodies.

  Smithy pulled a face. “Whoa, what are you doing, man?”

  “Putting them in the recovery position. We’re trying not to kill anyone, right?”

  “That was some impressive kung fu,” said Addy, nodding appreciatively. “Where d’you learn that?”

  “It wasn’t kung fu, but I got it from another Damien.”

  Smithy frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “It means there was a Damien someplace else that knew tae kwon do. He died and all his knowledge passed to me. Now there are only two of us left, and I ain’t exactly alive.”

  Smithy raised an eyebrow. “You’re like Jet Li in that old film. You get stronger every time one of you dies. Shit, I miss blobbing out in front of a good action flick.”

  Damien looked down at the two unconscious guards, a pained expression on his face. “Not stronger, no. Their memories and knowledge filter down to me, but not their strength. It’s sort of like muscle memory. I don’t remember how I learned tae kwon do, I just suddenly did one day. Like I know I can ride a bike even though I haven’t since I was a kid.”

  Smithy nodded. “So you can just tae kwon do it.”

  Damien rolled his eyes. “Is there an off button on this guy. Look, you people wanted a quiet way in and I just gave it to you.”

  Mass patted Damien on the back. It was like hitting a slab of ice. “If I’d known we had Bruce Lee on the team, I might have planned differently.”

  “Bruce Lee didn’t believe in kicking above the knee,” said Smithy. “So it’s not really a good analogy.”

  Addy groaned. “Someone is going to kick you in the knee in a moment. Shut up, for God’s sake.”

  “Sorry.” He made a zipping motion over his lips.

  Mass looked at him and put out his palm. “I want the key.”

  Smithy made the motion of locking his lips and handing over the key. Mass took it and then waved a hand to get everyone moving again. The two guards remained unconscious on the floor.

  12

  “It’s late,” Addy whispered as they crouched in a dark alleyway, “but Wanstead could still be awake. Do we wait a little longer?”

  Mass nodded. “We can’t afford to delay any longer. Every second we take counts against us. We need to take control of Portsmouth and prepare ourselves for an attack before it’s too late.”

  Tox adjusted the peak of his baseball cap. “How? Thomas took two-thirds of the soldiers with him.”

  “Maybe he’ll succeed,” said Addy. “Maybe the only thing to turn up at the gates will be a victorious army.”

  “If that happens, I’ll be the first to worship at Thomas’s feet,” said Mass, “but I doubt any army can succeed against what we saw coming. At least not out in the open.”

  “Maybe Thomas has a plan we don’t know about.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Let’s just—” Mass ducked and put a finger to his lips as a guard appeared ahead in the light of a nearby barrel-fire. It was another man he didn’t recognise, holding a military-spec rifle. Addy moved into cover ahead, hiding behind a row of army Land Rover ambulances that must have arrived with Thomas’s fleet. They moved up to join her, and then waited for the guard to move out of sight. Mass gave the signal to get going again.

  The port administration building was right there. More guards should’ve been watching the entrance, but the place appeared deserted. All the lights inside were off. It was hard to know what time it was, but it couldn’t have been past midnight.

  “It’s quiet,” said Addy. “I know everyone’s left Portsmouth, but I would have expected more than a couple of guards.”

  “Thomas doesn’t care about the people left here,” said Damien. “He cares about wiping out the demons. For that he needs soldiers. I’m kinda sad I’m not out there with them. It’ll be a hell of a fight.”

  “They’ll be plenty of fighting here,” said Mass, “I can guarantee it. Right now, this is what’s important. Come on, let’s get inside.”

  They sidled along the modern glass walls of the port administration building until they reached the double glass doors housed inside the recessed entryway. They were unlocked, which wasn’t unusual; the offices were in use all hours and many people also slept inside. Maybe the lax security had contributed to Wickstaff’s death. She could have locked herself away inside and posted guards around her twenty-four-seven, but that wasn’t who she had been. Amanda Wickstaff wasn’t someone who hid.

  Mass held the doors open while Tox, Smithy, Addy, and Damien crept inside. The reception area was dark, bar a single dim lamp in the corner of the room. Magazines were stacked neatly on a coffee table. Comfy sofas surrounded the table.

  Mass glanced at Damien and got his attention. “Do you know where we can find Wanstead?”

  “No idea, mate. I never stepped foot in here before. Not a big fan of authority.”

  “Okay, we’ll have to check each room as we go. We need to be on the lookout for guards, not just Colonel Wanstead. Remember, safeties on unless there’s no other choice. Every man we kill is one less to fight the demons when they get here.”

  “If they get here,” said Addy. “Can we at least try to imagine an outcome where Thomas obliterates the demons forever?”

  Tox grunted. “Since when have you been a woman who looks on the bright side? There’re only two outcomes to anything these days: shit and slightly less shit.”

  “Hate to agree,” said Smithy, “but Tox is right. Take me, for example. After spending almost a year on my own, I finally find a place full of people, only for it to fall under threat.”

  “If we keep talking,” said Mass, “we’ll screw this up. Come on.”

  They moved through the open security door and entered the corridor. Wickstaff’s office lay at the end, although it was probably someone else’s now. Thomas had probably moved himself in before her body had even cooled.

  Using hand gestures, Mass instructed Tox to check the door on the left. It was locked.

  “Leave it,” said Mass. “If it’s locked, it’s probably empty. Either way, we can’t risk breaking in and making noise.”

  They moved on to the next door, and this time when Tox tried it, it opened. He peered inside, staying low to the ground.

  “See anything?” asked Smithy in a whisper.

  “It’s full of boxes and files. Stuff from before the war.”

  Mass nodded. “Keep moving.”

  Tox moved to the next door and found another empty office. There were two more doors to try in addition to Wickstaff’s former office. A stairwell led to the building’s upper three floors.

  Tox tried the two side doors. Both were locked.

  “I’ll get the one at the end,” said Mass. “I want
to see what they’ve done with Wickstaff’s office.”

  Everyone crouched and waited while Mass walked the final length of carpet. He was two feet away from Wickstaff’s door when it unexpectedly opened. A pot-bellied man, almost bursting out of his uniform, stepped out with a polite smile. “You must be Mr Mass?”

  Mass had already been on edge, but seeing someone step out of the room with a smile on their face completely disarmed him. He rose up out of his crouch, keeping his shotgun pointed downwards. “W-Who are you?”

  “Colonel Wanstead. Formerly a captain in the Adjutant General’s Corps, but recently promoted. I take it you’re here to kill me? Why else would you be sneaking around in the dead of night?”

  Tox and the others joined Mass, equally taken off guard. He looked at them, then back at Colonel Wanstead. “You knew we were coming?”

  “Why, of course! From the very moment you entered the ruins in fact. I have men hidden out there, keeping watch for demons.” He chortled. “Instead, they found Vampires.”

  “We’re not here to kill you, Colonel Wanstead. We’re here to warn you.”

  “About what?”

  “There are demons coming – a shitload – and they’re being led by Crimolok.”

  Wanstead tittered, his large belly jiggling. “Who on earth might that be?”

  “Crimolok is the monster behind all this – the cause of the entire apocalypse. He’s Lucifer and Michael’s brother. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

  “The devil himself? My, we do live in biblical times, do we not?”

  “Yeah,” said Mass, “and unless we get moving right now, we’re going to see Revelations part two.”

  Wanstead chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Was he actually listening? Thank God if he was. “I understand your concern, Mr Mass, but General Thomas has taken the army to deal with the very threat of which you speak.”

  “He doesn’t know what he’s up against. He thinks he’s going out to deal with a beaten enemy, but what he’s going to find is an enemy general waging war with everything he has left.”

  “Why, that is marvellous news. Thomas intends to wipe the demons out once and for all. If their leader is here, the task will be all that much simpler.”

  Mass ran a hand over his forehead and groaned. People like Wanstead didn’t listen to people like him. It had always been that way, but right now it was going to get people killed. “You need to prepare everyone for battle. There’s not much time. It’s probably already too late.”

  “Okay, Mr Mass, I shall do as you say. I promise you the people of Portsmouth will be prepared to defend the city. I shall see to it right away.”

  Mass sighed, relieved to have seemingly met a man of reason. “Thank you, Colonel Wanstead.”

  “Now, Mr Mass, please disarm. You and your people are under arrest.”

  Mass’s hands went automatically to his shotgun. “What are you talking about? Arrest for what?”

  “General Thomas gave explicit instructions to contain any Urban Vampires found in Portsmouth until his return. The curious thing is that when I attempted to round you all up this morning, your people were nowhere to be seen. Where are Mr Cullen and the others?”

  “This conversation is over,” said Mass, lifting his shotgun and pointing it in the colonel’s face. “We’re taking over Portsmouth, and you’re going to be a good boy and stand aside.”

  Wanstead seem unbothered by the shotgun. “Guards!”

  The sound of locks disengaging filled the corridor, and when Mass glanced back he saw soldiers filing out the three locked side rooms. They were quick and prepared, aiming their rifles, ready for the kill. At the same time, three guards stepped out of the office behind Wanstead, each of them sporting semi-automatic handguns that they aimed at Mass’s face.

  Wanstead still wore a polite smile. “Time to behave, Mr Mass. I have no personal grudge against you, so please understand that I am merely following orders.”

  Mass lowered his shotgun, sick to his stomach. “Don’t you care that your orders came from an egotistical maniac? General Thomas murdered Wickstaff to take over Portsmouth. He’s been executing people for daring to even speak against him.”

  “Yes, I suspected his involvement in Wickstaff’s death, but such things happen in war. If I don’t follow orders, I dare say I’ll end up the same way. Do you know, I met the woman once, Amanda Wickstaff, back before all of this started. She was an officer fresh out of Sandhurst, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It was an inter-regimental sports day, if I remember correctly, and even then it was clear that she was a force to be reckoned with. She was captain of the women’s junior rugby team, and she had those women moving back and forth like pegs on a string. I wish I had such a talent for leadership.”

  Mass shook his head, not understanding. “Why are you doing this?”

  Wanstead seemed genuinely pained. “Because Thomas has twenty thousand men out in the field, and they need a safe home to which to return. Whatever you are doing here, Mr Mass, it isn’t anything good. You’re a troublemaker, and I suspect you always have been. All the same, I promise you that your people shall not harmed while under my care.”

  “Until Thomas comes back and kills us all,” said Tox, still pointing his shotgun despite Addy and Smithy having lowered theirs.

  “You take us prisoner,” said Mass, “and my people will storm this place. You think we’re alone?”

  “No, I believe there’s a second larger group led by Mr Cullen. Ah, you seem dismayed? Don’t be, I’ve instructed my men not to use force unless absolutely necessary. All the same, no one is going to rescue you. Peacefully is my preferred way of doing things. Please do not force me to make a mess.”

  “We can take these guys,” said Damien, leaning up against the wall with his arms folded. “What you reckon, shall we start a ruck? I got this beady-eyed little princess with the pretty mouth.”

  The guard to whom he was referring growled, and looked desperate for the order to kill.

  “Don’t do anything,” said Mass, holding up his hand to Damien and staring at the angry guard. “We’ve warned Colonel Wanstead about the threat coming this way. Now it’s up to him.”

  Wanstead nodded. “There’s a good chap. Now, your weapons, please, gentlemen.”

  Mass turned and gave everyone the go-ahead. They placed their shotguns on the ground carefully, but Mass tossed his aside angrily. Things hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but it wasn’t the worst outcome either. Wanstead seemed a reasonable man – perhaps too reasonable. Either way, this felt like a defeat.

  Mass put his hands in the air. “Okay, we’re going to play nice.”

  “Wonderful news. I do so hate bloodshed.” Wanstead whipped a handgun from his belt and pointed it at Mass’s forehead. “I really am sorry, but my orders were explicit.”

  Smithy gasped. “Y-You lied? We gave up peacefully and you’re going to execute us anyway? Wow, that’s fucking cold, man, even for a baddie.”

  “I am no baddie,” said Wanstead, seeming utterly offended by the word, “but the reverence people have for the Urban Vampires is a concern. We don’t want a rebellion fermenting, do we? We can ill afford it.”

  “You kill us,” said Addy, “and you’ll make us martyrs.”

  “I imagine people would have said the same about General Wickstaff once upon a time, but alas, most have gone willingly to fight by Thomas’s side. Anyway, my orders are only to execute your leader, so don’t fret, young lady, you’ll be quite all right.” He looked at Mass and sighed. “I’m sorry for this, old chap, truly.”

  “You fucker!” Tox threw himself forward, a glint of steel flashing as he yanked a blade from an ankle sheath. With surprise on his side, he buried the blade in the colonel’s chest just as he fired off a shot.

  Tox grappled with Wanstead, trapping him in a bear hug. The knife disappeared somewhere between them. Wanstead cried out in pain. Mass tried to make use of the distraction, but before he could take a step, a guar
d walloped him with the grip of his 9mm. He stumbled but didn’t go down. Behind him, Addy and Smithy put their hands up as the guards aimed their rifles, ready to fire. Damien stood with his arms folded, leaning against the wall as if bored by the entire scene. Mass was just glad none of them were being shot… yet.

  Wanstead hissed and gave Tox a vicious shove, forcing him to the ground. The knife was sticking out of the fat officer’s chest, though not deep. He removed it and examined the blood on the blade with a curious expression on his face. “I’ve had worse, I suppose.”

  Tox was panting on the floor, but he soon went still. A bloody bullet wound marked his chest, a point-blank shot to the sternum. His glassy eyes were wide open and fixed in place.

  Mass felt woozy, but his anger kept him standing. He looked at Wanstead, a glare on his face. “I’m going to kill you.”

  Wanstead looked genuinely upset, but it didn’t stop him from pointing his gun at Mass’s chest. “That was inhumane, but I must say he brought it on himself.”

  “You’ll die for this.” Mass closed his eyes, hoping he would get a chance for revenge in the next life. “I promise you.”

  “Okay, enough chit-chat. Guards, get this over wi—”

  Alarms sounded, a mixture of sirens and air horns. The guard towers were equipped with whatever people could find to make a noise. Gunfire began seconds later.

  Wanstead lowered his handgun and frowned. “What the blazes?”

  “It’s happening,” said Mass. “The demons are here.”

  “But General Thomas—”

  “Is most likely dead, which means you’re in charge now. Forget your orders and listen to me. This is a fight to the death, and when the dust clears, it’ll either be us or them that’s left – most probably them. Now, you can kill me, or you can accept the fact that my people are the toughest bastards you have at your disposal. This is about survival, right? Let us fight.”

  For the first time since their meeting, Wanstead appeared uncertain. An uneasy grimace replaced his polite smile. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay, let’s be done with this nonsense and focus on what matters. Guards, let them go.”