Guy took a moment to reply. “Then it appears these hell gates are beneath the oceans and on land. We should all keep an eye on the radar and steer a clear course. Over.”
“Copy that, Captain. We fled Norfolk hoping to regroup, but ran right into another battle. Over.”
“You were at Norfolk? So were we. Did you see how things ended there? Over”
“There’s nothing left. The USS New Hampshire went under and took a thousand men with her, but several vessels got away. We count our blessings. Over.”
Guy slumped back against the port side railing. “At least some of us got out alive. We’re not beaten yet. Over.”
“Copy that, Captain. Gives us a chance to regroup and head back to coast. Now that you saved us, we’ll be able to fight another day. Naval Command is operating out of Florida now, and all ships are to make their way to Jacksonville. It’ll be a pleasure to have the Hatchet along for the ride. Over.”
“Negative. The Hatchet is crossing the Atlantic. Over.”
“Why? Over.”
“I have a personal matter to attend to. Over.”
“We have orders to assemble at Jacksonville. Disobey and you’ll be considered a deserter. Over.”
“Call it what you want. I’m going to the U.K. to get my kids. Over.”
“I can’t allow you to do that, Captain Granger. The Hatchet is United States property, and your men have a duty to protect their country. You need to return to coast, or relinquish command to someone who will. Over.”
Guy looked around at his crew, each of them panting and ferocious, like blooded wolves. Tosco had his arms folded, but Guy couldn’t tell if he was for or against what his counterpart on the Augusta was suggesting. His opinion would be key to persuading the rest of the crew one way or another.
“With all due respect, Lieutenant Hernandez, I don’t take orders from you. Over.”
“The U.S. Coast Guard has been ordered to relinquish command to the Navy. I am the senior naval officer in this region, and I am taking authority of your vessel. I will have one of my junior officers take command of your crew. Prepare to be boarded. Over and out.”
Guy swallowed a lump in his throat. He had already made his mind up about deserting and heading to the U.K., but how far was he willing to go? And how far would his crew be willing to go? Would he allow them to get into a firefight with their own countrymen, just to save his children? No, he couldn’t do it. He would have to relinquish command. There was no other option.
I’m so sorry Kyle and Alice.
“Fuck them,” said Frank.
Guy looked at his Chief Petty in shock. “You don’t agree with them? What about your belief in the chain of command?”
“Fuck the chain of command. The chain of command allowed two-thirds of our Navy to get obliterated at Norfolk. It’s you who has kept us all safe. We rescued those goddamn blue dicks and this is how they repay us? Any man tries to board this ship will have to go through me.”
The crew looked worried, but none said anything. Guy looked at Tosco, who still had his arms folded. The lieutenant glanced over at the Augusta, then back at Guy. “Those lightweights think they can come aboard and take control of our ship, give orders to my men, they got another thing coming. I say we line up and prevent them from boarding.”
“We can’t beat them,” said Guy, laying it on the line. His crew had earned that much. “They have more guns and a thicker hull. If we get into a firefight, we can’t win.”
“Don’t have to win,” said Frank. “Just make it clear that we’re more trouble than it’s worth. They might take this ship from us, but we can make sure they won’t have enough men left to run it.”
“We can also make sure that our first bullet takes out Hernandez,” said Tosco.
Guy straightened up, pride swelling in his chest. “Okay. Lieutenant, get everyone armed and lined up against the railings. Frank, back on that MG.”
“It’s out of ammo.”
“So is the other one, but the men aboard the Augusta don’t know that.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
The men got busy, reloading their weapons and forming up along the rails. Bloated demon corpses littered the deck, but were forgotten for now as the USCG Hatchet had a new enemy: The USS Augusta.
The Augusta drifted in close enough that the hulls of the two ships were almost touching. Its marines lined up along the railing, but they were not pointing rifles—yet. A small man stood amongst them, unarmed. His officer’s uniform and Hispanic complexion led Guy to assume that he was Lieutenant Hernandez in the flesh.
“Tell your men to stand aside, Captain Granger. I hereby seize this vessel in the name of the United States Navy.”
Guy stood at the railing, also without a weapon—two generals meeting across the battlefield. “Your access is denied, Lieutenant Hernandez. I am the captain of this ship, and my word is law. Be grateful for your rescue and take your men wherever you choose, but they will not come aboard this ship.”
“You have American citizens on board. Do you plan on kidnapping them?”
“No man or woman is here against their will. In fact, any who wish to join you now may do so.” Guy turned around to look at the civilians, but not one of them stepped forward to leave.
“You have them scared,” Hernandez remarked.
“Considering you were all but dead in the water when we arrived, I think maybe it’s you they are afraid of. The men on this ship survived the attack on New York, the attack on Norfolk, and now the attack on the USS Augustus. They are safer with me than anywhere else. They are survivors and—as my own Lieutenant called them earlier—warriors. We came to aid you in your time of need when running away would’ve been easier. My crew is fearless and ferocious. Come aboard if you dare, Lieutenant.”
Hernandez laughed like a hyena. “You really think you will win a fight against my ship, Captain? You don’t stand a chance.”
“Perhaps, but are you willing to lose the men it will take to put us down? I promise that for every one of us you take, we’ll take three of yours. We have two machine guns and my ship’s main gun aimed at you, not to mention about a hundred rifles. I’m over-manned, you see. That’s what happens when you win fights—you get stronger. I look at your crew, Lieutenant, and all I see is fear and exhaustion. They have lost their commander and inherited you. How long do you think they will tolerate your command if you force them to kill fellow Americans? Fellow Americans who just saved their lives. Or perhaps they won’t have to tolerate you much longer. Maybe the very first shot fired will be right at your forehead. You’re a pretty good shot, aren’t you, Lieutenant Tosco?”
Tosco raised his riflescope to his eye and grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain. I can shoot the nutsack off a navy officer from a hundred metres. In fact, I’m ready to pull the trigger right now.”
Hernandez tried to respond but tripped over his own words and ended up offering nothing but bluster. He shifted uncomfortably and retreated a step, as he no doubt felt Tosco’s sights falling on him. It sent the wrong message to his men, who all suddenly seemed completely unsure of themselves.
Guy didn’t want to undermine the Lieutenant too much. The man still had a Navy frigate to command, and his help would be sorely needed back on the coast. “Look, Commander Hernandez, I see you’re a good man—a good American—but after Norfolk, it became every man for himself. We all need to do whatever we can in whatever way we can to make a difference. The Hatchet is crossing the Atlantic, and we will lend our help wherever it is needed, just like we did to save your ship, but we will make our own way and decide our own fate. It’s survival now, don’t you see? There’s not going to be any great war because we’ve already lost. There’s no more United States, there’s just us—people. All that is left is resistance, and no resistance ever worked by following empty orders. It will only work by doing what needs to be done when it needs doing. Take your ship, and do whatever you can to help, but if you try to fight us you’re only helping the enemy.�
��
Hernandez seemed to mull it over for a long, long time, struggling to find words and scratching at his head. Guy wished the man was more decisive, quicker to reply, for it showed his lack of confidence by thinking so hard in front of his men. Eventually, he found something to say, and it was less rational than Guy had hoped for, but it was sufficient. “I consider you a traitor to your country, Captain Granger, but I will not command my men to fire on fellow Americans. I disagree about the war being lost. It has only just begun. Your country requires your ship and your crew, but I can see that you have brainwashed them to abandon their beliefs—and even stand by while you deny the existence of the United States. I will not risk lives, but when America is victorious, men like you will be strung up for cowardice. If you have any honour at all, you will step down now, Captain Granger, but I don’t expect that you will.”
Guy sneered. “The last thing anybody aboard my ship is guilty of is cowardice. I wish you a safe journey, Commander Hernandez. Do try to keep your men alive. We won’t be there to rescue you next time.”
Hernandez turned away and disappeared from sight.
Guy kept his crew lined up along the railings, ready for a fight, but was relieved when the Augusta moved away. Bloated corpses fell into the sea as its crew jettisoned them into the water.
“We should do the same,” said Frank. “God knows what diseases these things might carry. Even if they don’t, I don’t fancy having to look at them.”
Guy gave the order for everyone to kick and shove the demon corpses overboard. Their slimy carcasses left behind slick trails of blood and seawater. Many of the sailors gagged.
“Yikes,” cried Frank. “This one looks like my aunt.”
The men all laughed and gagged a little less.
Guy took a moment to study his enemy close up. The shrivelled up penis dangling between its flabby grey thighs gave no ambiguity as to its sex. Had it been a man once? Its dead eyes were strangely human.
“We got a live one over here!” Someone shouted.
Guy glanced across the deck to see that one of the demons was back on its feet, stalking after one of the civilians. It was badly injured—one arm hanging attached by a thread. Guy had no weapon, but he hurried to help. Frank and Tosco did the same. The creature was missing an eye, but the remaining one bore into them with hatred. In a slurping voice, it spoke to them. “We will drag your souls into Hell and violate your bodies.”
Guy sighed. “Will somebody please kill this thing?”
Frank lifted a handgun from by his side. He pulled the trigger three times, and the demon reeled back, spilling over the port side railing and disappearing into the ocean.
“They’re here to exterminate us, aren’t they?” muttered Tosco.
“Yes,” said Guy. “They are.”
Frank tucked the gun into his waistband and spat over the side of the ship. “They’re welcome to try, but I’m not going down without a fi-”
Frank’s head shuddered and his left eye disappeared in a flash of red. He slumped against the railing, exposing the wide-open crater at the back of his skull. A loud crack skipped across the ocean.
“Sniper!” Somebody shouted.
Tosco lunged at Guy and shoved him to the ground just as another shot was fired. The lieutenant took the bullet high up on his body and flipped backwards like an acrobat. Guy was forced to watch, stunned.
Skip was the one to give the order. The old sailor kept his calm and yelled out instruction. “Take cover and return fire. Don’t make it easy for ‘em.”
The Hatchet’s crew crouched down at the railings and fired at the Augusta, but the larger Navy vessel was at least a mile away and too far to hit with an assault rifle. The enemy sniper fired a series of follow up shots, but by then, everyone had taken cover and remained there safely.
Guy looked over at Frank and felt a rage bubbling in his chest. His oldest friend shot dead by a faceless sniper on the orders of a jumped up lieutenant. Hernandez would pay for this.
Tosco lay on the deck nearby moaning. Guy crawled over to him and checked for a bullet wound, finding it on his left shoulder—a leaking hole in his trapezius muscle. “You’re going to be okay, Lieutenant. It’s just-“
Tosco managed to lift himself slightly. “A flesh wound? Yeah, I know… Jeez, hurts like a mother though. How’s Frank?”
Guy shook his head and fought back tears.
Tosco cursed, from anger now, instead of pain. “That idiot must have thought we were firing at him when Frank shot that demon.”
Guy snarled. “Hernandez was waiting for an excuse. He didn’t want to order his men to fire on us without cause.”
“He’s stopped firing now,” said Tosco through gritted teeth. “They’re still heading away from us.”
A nearby radio squawked. It lay on the deck, and the voice of Hernandez came through it loud and clear. “Men and woman aboard the USCG Hatchet. Your senior officers are dead. Please put me in contact with whoever has inherited command. I wish you no harm, only that you follow the Augusta back to the coast where it will be added to the Navy’s relief effort. You are no longer bound to fulfill whatever promises you made to Captain Granger. You are free.” A brief pause. “Come in, come in, Hatchet. Whoever is most senior, please respond.”
Guy crawled over to the radio and answered it with venom in his voice. “Hernandez, this is the senior ranking member of the USCG Hatchet, Captain Guy Granger. You just killed a man worth ten of you, and I’m going to make you pay for it. You see, when this war is over, they will string men like you up. I will be the one to do it. As soon as I find my kids, I’m coming for you.”
There was the mutter of a reply as if someone was about to speak but had changed their mind. The line went dead.
***
Everyone aboard the Hatchet remained in cover until the Augusta was a mere dot on the horizon. Guy shouted for the ship’s medical officer, Gonzalez, and got Tosco some help. The lieutenant was in good spirits as a group of enlisted men carried him off to the sickbay. Guy remained on deck, staring out across the vast ocean and feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Frank’s body lay beneath a blanket at his feet.
The old captain, Skip, came up beside Guy and stared right at him. “Your second in command is quite a hero,” he whispered. “Led the men against the demons and took a sniper bullet for you.”
Guy nodded. “If more men had his backbone, we would already have driven those monsters back to Hell.”
Skip nodded, but exhaled as if something worried him.
“What’s on your mind, Skip?”
“I worry for you.”
“That was always Frank’s job.”
“Then it’s a job vacant for me to fill. He was a good man, the Chief Petty? Your friend?”
“The very best of both, friend and man. I don’t know how I would have fared these last few days without him questioning my every move. He was always my conscience, making me consider my actions.”
“Well, if I can attempt to fill his boots, I have some advice for you, Captain. Keep Lieutenant Tosco onside. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but these are his men more than they’re yours.”
The insult was grave, almost unforgivable, but the old captain was right. “I know what you’re saying,” he admitted, “but he gave me his word he would help me find Kyle and Alice. After that, I’ll just have to be ready for whatever happens. Don’t worry about me, Skip.”
“I always worry about good men. We’re back to the old days now, Captain Granger, and in the old days, there was only one way for a captain to lose his ship.”
Guy looked down at Frank’s body beneath the sheet and thought about his friend’s earlier advice. Be firm. He turned to Skip and smiled. “You’re wrong, you know? These aren’t the old days, Skip. They’re the new days. And if Lieutenant Tosco tries to take my ship, I’ll kill him.”
~MINA MAGAR~
Slough, Berkshire
When Mina awoke, the day was in full swing and
approaching late afternoon. She felt refreshed for a few moments, but then the grogginess hit her and she craved coffee. She got up off the floor, knees and elbows clicking, and went out into the office. It was as frantic now as it had been when she sneaked off to take a nap. David was in the centre of the room directing things, having apparently taken control away from Big Jimmy.
Andras stood at the kettle, and Mina went and joined him. “You seem to spend a lot of time here. I’d love a coffee,” she said.
“Coming right up. It’s the only thing I’m good at apparently.”
“They won’t let you help, huh?”
“Nope.” He made her the coffee and handed it over. “It’s not that they won’t let me help, it’s more that I don’t really have any way to help. I don’t have a network of contacts to call.”
“You can help me,” said Mina. “I’m used to being treated like a spare part around here. Nobody ever wants help from a photographer.”
“So what are you working on?”
“Updating the website with information people can use. We need to get people fighting back. It’s our only chance.”
Andras smiled at her. “I’m all yours.”
Mina had a thought. “Where’s Alice?”
“Asleep in Carol’s office. Carol’s taking a nap too. David’s in charge at the moment, I think.”
“I’d imagine he is. Go over to my computer, Andras. I’ll join you in five minutes. I want to check in with David and see where we’re at.”
“Sure thing.”
Mina interrupted David in the midst of giving orders to the paper’s sports editor. The bump on the side of his head had turned a sickly green colour. “Ah, Mina,” he said when he saw her. “Back in the land of the living?”
She ignored that he had gone off for a nap too. “I needed sleep.”
“The news never sleeps.”
“What’s the latest?” she asked.
“Much the same as before. The demons—that’s what we’re officially calling them now—have formed up into three main armies within the U.K. Most of the smaller groups merged together, and the largest army is now currently south of Luton. It’s being led by the same giant we encountered in Hyde Park. As such, we’ve started referring to him as Hyde. The second largest army is based outside Carlisle, on the Scottish border. It, too, is being led by one of the giant beings. We call this one-”
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