Wasteland in Red Square (Hell Gate Book 2)

by Josh Matthews

  Jason ignored the battle playing out behind him, concentrating instead on the first Hell Spawn. Jason raised his crossbow and aimed. When the demon jumped to its feet and spun around to face him, Jason fired an arrow into its left eye. The orb ruptured. Fluid and blood flowed out of the socket and down its face. The demon swiped its hand, breaking off the extended bolt. The wound healed instantly. The Hell Spawn surged forward, its arm above its head, ready to slash Jason open.

  ***

  Jeanette headed for the field beyond the horses. She knew it would not save her, but what choice did she have? She and Sook-kyoung ran as fast as they could, waiting for death to catch up to them.

  A scuffle broke out behind them, accompanied by intense clicking from the Hell Spawn and the sound of blades slashing into flesh. After a brief moment, the noise died out and things grew quiet except for the disturbed neighing and shuffling of the horses. Sook-kyoung looked over her shoulder and stopped running.

  “Eotteon ssibal geos-ibrida?”

  Jeanette spun around. The two Hell Spawn lay scattered across the ground, beheaded. Three figures stood above the corpses. They each wore long, black cloaks with the hoods pulled up over their heads, which cast their faces in shadows. Two of them brandished broad swords which they held in front of them, the tips of the blades resting on the ground, gloved hands clasping the hilts. The third knelt and picked up the severed head of one of the Hell Spawn. The figure examined it before dropping back into the dirt.

  “It’s safe to come back, ladies,” said a deep, low voice from under the hood. “They’re dead.”

  ***

  The Hell Spawn charged straight at Haneef, its arms extended and its talons pointed at him. Haneef prayed to Allah that the end would be swift and painless, and that he would be deemed worthy enough to ascend into Heaven. He stood straight and prepared to meet his death with dignity. Instead of attacking, the demon jerked to a halt. The blade of a broadsword pierced its abdomen from behind. The demon stared down at the protrusion. The blade flicked up, slicing its way through the creature’s chest and neck, and cleaving its head into two separate halves. A moment later, a horizontal slash of the blade lobbed off the two sections of the demon’s head. The carcass fell to the ground. Behind it stood a figure dressed in a long, black cloak.

  ***

  Jason reached for his machete to fend off the approaching Hell Spawn, a gesture he knew would be futile. A figure in a red hooded cloak stepped between him and the demon. The Hell Spawn lashed out with its right hand. The cloaked figure used the trident-shaped dagger in its left hand to hook the demon’s wrist in mid-swing, catching it on the sharpened quillion and blocking the slash. Its right hand emerged from under the cloak holding a saber which the figure thrust through the demon’s chin up into its skull, stunning it. The figure spun to its right and flipped its left arm down, the dagger still hooked around the demon’s wrist, which forced it to bend at the waist. As the figure completed its spin, it slashed down with the saber. The blade cut through the demon’s neck, slicing off its head in one clean stroke. The cloaked figure jiggled the dagger, releasing the Hell Spawn, and then slid the twin weapons back into their scabbards. The demon flopped into the dirt.

  Lucifer growled. A second figure in a dark gray cloak had stepped up to the Hell Spawn the werehound had pinned to the ground. Lucifer and Lilith backed away from the hooded figure, not sure how to respond. The figure placed one foot on the demon’s chest to hold it in place and lifted a broadsword above its neck. Clasping the hilt in both hands, the figure drove the tip of the blade into the demon’s throat and moved it from side to side, severing muscles and tendons and shattering its spine. After a few seconds, its head popped off and rolled a few inches from the body. The two werehounds retreated back to Jason.

  Jason focused on the mysterious figure that had saved his life. It faced him. Silver armor shielded the front of its fore and upper arms. A larger plate protected the chest from the neck to the waist. Emblazoned in the center of the chest plate was a circle surrounding a raised R in the upper left quadrant and a raised A in the lower right. A brass crucifix centered between the two letters glistened in the morning light. Gloved hands extended from under the cloak, the tops of each finger covered in small silver armor plates. The hands reached up, clasped the edges of the hood, and pulled back the cloth to reveal strands of long red hair.

  “Oh my God,” Jason exclaimed.

  Sasha smiled. “Are you surprised to see me?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “But you’re . . . ” Jason struggled to find the words. “I mean, I thought you were . . . were . . . ”

  “Dead.” Antoine finished the sentence as he joined the conversation. He stepped up to Sasha, his eyes locking on hers. “I saw a horde of Nachzehrer push you off the bell tower of Notre Dame Cathedral.”

  Sasha sighed. “Technically, I am dead.”

  Lucifer and Lilith raced up to greet Sasha. When she reached down to pet them, Lucifer backed away and whined. Lilith ran over to Jason and stood behind his legs. By now, the rest of Jason’s team had joined them, each staring in disbelief.

  Jason focused on her aura. It belonged to Sasha, but not the young woman he had known before Paris. This aura seemed like a hybrid between a human and a Hell Spawn, although without the malevolence. He shook his head, unable to grasp the situation. “How can you be here if you’re dead?”

  “Jason, I came back to help you.”

  “We came back to help you.” The figure in the dark gray cloak moved up beside Sasha and pulled the cowl off his head. He stood six feet in height with a lean yet muscular figure. The man was older than the rest of Jason’s team, probably in his late thirties or early forties. He possessed hard features, most notably the cold, brown eyes as well as lips locked in a perpetual scowl.

  “Who are you?” Jason asked, not attempting to hide his suspicion.

  “Father Belsario. And while you have legitimate questions to ask, may I suggest that you save them for later? Right now, we need to take care of your friend and get out of here while we have the chance.”

  “Are there more of these things in the area?” Jason asked. “I don’t sense any?”

  Jeanette reached out and clasped his hand at the thought of having to fight more of those demons. Sasha flinched at the gesture.

  “There are none nearby, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

  “Agreed.”

  Jason stepped around Father Belsario and moved beside Werner. Neal knelt by the German, checking his vitals. The other members of the team gathered around their friend. Jason patted Werner’s leg. “How are you doing?”

  “He’s lucky,” answered Neal, pressing his fingers along Werner’s right side. “He’s only cracked two ribs.”

  Werner winced when Neal touched a bruised area. “How is that lucky?’

  “You could have broken one, which would have been excruciating. Or worse, you could have punctured a lung, in which case we’d be digging your grave right now.”

  “Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired,” Werner joked, wincing when he chuckled.

  “Sit up,” ordered Neal.

  When Werner did, he gasped.

  “It’s going to hurt for a few weeks. Stay still.” Neal waved Vicky over. “Bring me a roll of bandages and some pain killers.”

  Vicky went off to get the medical bag. Jason asked, “How long will it take to patch him up?”

  “He’ll be ready to move in about fifteen minutes, although the horseback ride is going to hurt.”

  “Something to look forward to.” Werner meant it to be humorous, but because of his pain the joke fell flat.

  “Did we lose any of the horses?” Jason asked Sook-kyoung.

  “Three. Those things ripped them apart.”

  “What about you?” Jason asked Father Belsario. “Are your horses tied up nearby?”

  “We travel on foot.”

  “It’s over three hundred miles to Moscow. You’re goin
g to get tired.”

  “We don’t tire.” The cleric’s tone hung heavy with exasperation. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll set up the perimeter guard while the rest of you get ready to depart.”

  Father Belsario snapped his fingers and pointed away from the camp. The other four cloaked figures split up and moved to the edge of the woods. As Sasha walked by, she mouthed the words “we’ll talk later” to Jason and then disappeared amongst the trees. Jason waited for them to leave the area before addressing his team.

  “Pack up and prepare to move out. We hit the road in an hour.”

  His team responded, all except Ian who crouched in front of the carcass of the creature Sasha had cleaved in half, poking around its insides with his bayonet. Jason squatted beside him. “What’s so fascinating?”

  Ian pointed out the various organs with the tip of his bayonet, occasionally using the blade to push one aside to expose another. “This thing has a heart, liver, two kidneys, two lungs, and large and small intestines.”

  “Don’t most animals?”

  “Yes, but I think these things were once human.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Ian slid the bayonet across the dirt to dislodge the viscera, and then rubbed the blade against the leg of his pants to clean it. “There is a lot more trauma to these organs than I’ve seen before, but the size and configuration are the same as those belonging to a human. To be certain, I’d need to study it more closely.”

  “We don’t have time. For now, keep this between us. I don’t want to spook the others.”

  Ian nodded and slid the bayonet back into its sheath.

  “Come on. I want to get away from here as soon as possible.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The team traveled all day in silence. No one trusted the cloaked figures. Even having Sasha among them did little to dispel the uncertainty. The werehounds, who used to enjoy Sasha’s company, stayed as far away from her as possible. Jason felt the same way. These people made him uneasy, especially the four who had yet to pull back their hoods and reveal their faces. He had declined Father Belsario’s offer to head the column, fearing his team might be led into a Hell Spawn ambush. Putting them at the rear caused as much consternation. Jason lost track of the number of times he checked behind him to see what the cloaked figures were up to. Occasionally, he tried to ping on Sasha’s aura, hoping to get a feel for her. Every time he picked up the same sensation, a combination of human and Hell Spawn with a mix of emotions. He detected nothing evil or threatening.

  The team set up camp for the night along the northern sector of Nalboki State Park in a garage used for maintenance equipment, most of which sat useless inside the building. When Father Belsario offered to have his people stand watch, several of Jason’s team shook their heads. Jason understood their concern because he felt it himself. Yet Sasha’s eyes pleaded for him to agree. He did, although with apprehension.

  Everyone stared at their plates during dinner, making the meal quiet and awkward. That is, everyone who ate. Sasha and Father Belsario sat together in the circle around the campfire opposite Jason. They did not eat, but waited patiently for the others to finish. When the last of Jason’s team placed their plate on the floor, Sasha cleared her throat.

  “I guess now is a good time to explain what’s going on.”

  Jason gave her his attention.

  “Just to be clear, I did die in Paris. However, I was given the opportunity to come back as one of the Purgatoriati.”

  Jason held up his hand to cut off Sasha. “What do you mean ‘come back’? What is the Purgatoriati? And who gave you the opportunity?”

  “I did,” said Father Belsario. “To answer your other questions, the Purgatoriati were established by God to return to Earth and assist in closing the Hell Gates.”

  Antoine scoffed. “There is no God.”

  Father Belsario glared at the Moroccan. “Do you believe in Hell?”

  “Of course I do. We’ve been fighting their demons for months.”

  “If there is a Hell, then there must be a Heaven. If there’s a Heaven, then there must be a God.” When Antoine did not respond, Father Belsario switched his attention back to Jason. “Millennia ago, God and Satan agreed not to interfere on Earth and allow man to use his free will to choose the path of good or evil. That all changed with the opening of the portals. Although Satan did not plan the destruction of civilization and the disgorging of millions of his demons into our realm, he used the situation to his own advantage. God wants to counter that by providing mankind with help. The problem is, no one in Heaven is willing to return to Earth.”

  “Good Christian virtues,” scoffed Slava.

  “It has nothing to do with Christianity or virtue,” explained Father Belsario. “No one wants to give up paradise to come back, especially since the gates were opened because of man’s own arrogance.”

  Jason bristled at the comment yet remained quiet.

  “I had to travel to Purgatory to find volunteers. The only incentive I had to offer was a promise that anybody who joined would have a five hundred years taken off their banishment. Even then, God only allowed me to recruit five members as a trial run.”

  “Hence your title?” Jason asked.

  “The Purgatoriati,” said Father Belsario.

  “And you went with him to recruit?” Jason asked Sasha.

  Sasha shook her head. “I was in Purgatory when Father Belsario arrived. He tracked me down and asked if I would come back. Of course, I agreed.”

  Jason wanted to know why Sasha ended up in Purgatory rather than Heaven, yet did not want to embarrass her by asking. He pointed to the chest plate with the raised R and A emblazoned in the center of the circle. “What do the letters stand for?”

  “Repentance and Atonement,” said Sasha. “It’s the only way to save our souls. We have to be genuinely sorry for whatever sins we committed, and then must make things right. We can do the latter by returning to Earth and joining the war against the Hell Spawn.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” said Jason. “But there are only six of you.”

  “The Purgatoriati have been granted increased strength and agility,” said Father Belsario. “We don’t need to sleep and we don’t become tired. In battle, we have the strength of five mortals.”

  “Can you be killed?” Jeanette asked.

  “We’re already dead. We feel pain the way you do, but it doesn’t impair our ability to fight. When our bodies are destroyed or take enough damage to be rendered useless, our souls leave them and return to Purgatory.”

  Jason didn’t know what to say. Sasha stared at him, her eyes pleading for him to accept that she and the others had returned from the dead. The concept seemed fantastic, yet so did the existence of portals into Hell and demons walking the Earth. He honed in on the Purgatoriati’s auras, hoping to find a clue to their true motivations. Jason picked up nothing from Father Belsario, although he could not determine whether the emotional blank slate came from the cleric concealing something or from his unusual multi-afterlife heritage. The four cloaked figures standing watch gave off an air of darkness, more like sorrow and repentance than anything threatening. Sasha’s aura, on the other hand, buzzed with a myriad of emotions, with one standing out more than any of the others—sadness. Jason could not detect anything from the newcomers that suggested malice. After listening to Sasha and Father Belsario, he felt more comfortable with accepting the Purgatoriati.

  “So?” prodded Sasha.

  “Welcome to the team,” said Jason.

  Sasha took Jason’s hand in hers and squeezed. “Thank you for trusting us.”

  “God knows we can use the extra help.”

  “More so than you realize,” added Father Belsario.

  “What do you mean?” asked Haneef, a tone of concern in his voice.

  “When you eliminated the portal in Paris, Satan recognized that the gates were vulnerable. Rather than lose access to our realm, he has reinforced the Hell Spawn around the portals
to defend against further attacks. When we get to Moscow, it won’t be as easy to close that one as it was in Paris.”

  Jason felt morale around the campfire plummet. Not that he blamed them. The news depressed even him, except that he couldn’t show it. Jason put on a false bravado and slapped his hands against his knees. “Then it’s a good thing you found us when you did.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Because they did not require rest, Father Belsario had volunteered the Purgatoriati to man the watch until dawn, allowing Jason’s team to sleep through the night. Although Jason still harbored a few apprehensions about them, he felt comfortable enough to agree. As his team sauntered off to bed down and the Purgatoriati took up their positions, Jason motioned for Slava and Haneef to hang back. Jeanette stayed with them.

  “What’s up?” Slava asked once they were alone.

  “What do you think of our new friends?”

  “You want the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know they saved us this morning, but I don’t trust them.”

  “I’m glad I’m not the only one that feels that way,” added Jeanette. “It seems convenient that they show up now.”

  “Haneef?”

  “I trust them because of Sasha.”

  “Are you sure it is Sasha?” Jeanette asked Haneef.

  “I’ve known her for a long time, and it’s her.”

  “It is,” added Jason. “I can sense Sasha’s aura.”

  “So, what do we do now?” Slava asked.

  “Spread the word to the others to stay alert. Have everyone keep their weapons nearby to use on a second’s notice. I also want someone to stay awake to keep an eye on the Purgatoriati. I’ll take watch until ten. Slava will take it until two, and Haneef will finish off until dawn.”

  “You want us to check on them?” Haneef asked.

  Jason shook his head. “I don’t want them to know we’re watching them. Just stay awake and keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear anything suspicious, raise the alarm.”