“Let me guess, Carlisle?”
“No, we call it Hex, for the gate it came out of was in Hexham. The third giant has been moving around Wales and is currently outside of Cardiff. We call him Aberdare. His army is the largest by far, and it’s yet to meet any real resistance.”
Mina filed the names away. “Hyde, Hex, and Aberdare, okay. So the giants are definitely leading these armies?”
“Undoubtedly. We’ve been gathering reports from all over the country—local police stations, other newspaper offices, et cetera. People are blogging on the Internet like crazy, can you believe it? The world is at war, and people are sharing it all over the web like the latest Game of Thrones episode.”
“People are probably trying to keep themselves occupied. So what have we learned?”
“After the initial attacks, the demons converged to the three main locations I mentioned, each headed by one of the giants. There are outcroppings of smaller groups around, but they seem to be exercising guerrilla tactics—attacking randomly to cause disarray. What’s left of the British Army upper Brass believes that the three main armies are intended to destroy us. Similar armies are gathering abroad too, from what we can gather.”
“Are we fighting back?”
“Just trying to rally at this point. The Army made a dent in the enemy foot soldiers, but nothing has scratched the giants. People are calling them angels. If that’s the truth, then there may not be a way to take them down unless drastic action is taken.”
“Like what?”
“Nukes. The Government is already discussing a scorched earth policy. If it comes down to the survival of the human race, I don’t see what choice they’ll have. Hope they give us fair warning first. Would hate to look out the window and spot a bomb falling out the sky.”
Mina’s opinions on nuclear weapons had never changed since learning about them during her college days. The grainy video footage of Hiroshima had convinced her that atomic weapons were barbaric and invited calamity. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Do we have any chance, David?”
“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” He surprised her by putting a hand on her shoulder. “You and I made it through Hell together. Oxford Street was the enemy’s opening gambit. They won’t get a jump on us like that again. The worst has happened, but now we dust ourselves off and fight back. You and I, Mina, will do our part.”
Her tiredness wore off. “I’ll do whatever I can to make those monsters pay.”
David smiled. “Then get people ready. The hits on the website have started to rise. Other websites are linking to us and we’re making waves.”
“Really? That’s great. I’ll get right on it.”
“What are you waiting for then?”
“Right.” She hurried to her cubicle with renewed energy. Her work was important; people were reading her words and looking at the pictures she’d taken. People might have a chance of staying alive because of her.
Andras was waiting at her desk and pulled up a chair for her. “Ready for your command, mistress.”
Mina blushed and giggled. “Thank you, Andras. We need to update the website with anything we learn about the demons. What did we find out while I was asleep?”
“David told you about the three armies?”
Mina nodded.
“Okay, did you know there are three different types of demons?”
She leaned forward. “No, tell me.”
“Okay, well, um, there seems to be three different types of demons. There’s the extra crispy kind—the burn victims. They are the most common and strong as bulls. They can also talk and use weapons, but they die as easily as us.”
“Okay, what are the other two types?”
“There are the corpses—like zombies, except they aren’t braindead. They can also talk, but don’t die as easily as the burn victims. You can damage them, and they keep on coming. Damage them badly enough, though, and they’ll die. The third kind are less like human beings. They’re the ones that are hunched over like apes and have those nasty claws. They’re as agile as spider monkeys and can disembowel with a swipe, but they die easiest of all. The biggest problem with all three is their numbers. They just keep on coming through those gates. Mankind keeps dying, but the demons keep getting stronger.”
“So, to stand a chance, we need to find a way to close the gates. Has anybody tried yet?”
“Nobody has even got close. The gates are the enemy’s strong points, and the Army isn’t in any shape to stage an attack on them.”
“Then that’s what we focus on: Closing the gates.”
Andras raised an eyebrow. “No big thing then?”
“We aim high, or we lose.”
“I understand the stakes, Mina. We all have to do whatever is necessary to survive.”
Mina scrolled through the website and saw updates she hadn’t put there, as well as some of her photos. The picture she had taken of the stray Labrador had over a thousand views. “I assume David added these extra bits?”
Andras shrugged. “He told everyone to add whatever they could verify. I know Corporal Martin added a few things about how to kill the different demons. David added something about iron being helpful.”
“Iron?”
“Yeah, he got an email from some girl in Crapstone.”
Mina accessed the website emails and located an email from someone called Diane Potter. The subject-heading read: The demons can’t pass iron barriers!!!
She opened the email and read a hastily typed message from what seemed to be a teenage girl. There was a group of survivors in Crapstone where one of the gates had opened. They had taken refuge at a retired pop star’s house surrounded by big iron gates. Apparently, the demons couldn’t pass the iron bars or even touch them.
David had already posted about it on the website, and Mina found comments piling up. People cited their own stories of survival, thanks to the tip. A group of survivors in Stockport had fled to a local church after reading the website and were now safe behind its old iron doors. Another group was hiding out at a scrapyard, constructing barriers of their own from the iron junk collected there. People were surviving because of the website.
“It’s working,” said Mina. “Iron works against the demons and word is spreading. This is how we win, Andras. We find out the enemy’s weaknesses, and we spread the word.”
Andras seemed troubled when she looked at him, but he changed his expression to a smile. “I guess humanity has a chance after all—especially with a woman like you looking out for it.”
A brief flutter of butterfly wings in her belly made Mina blush. “I…”
Andras blushed too and turned away embarrassed. “Not really a good time to flirt, is it? Sorry.”
“No, no, don’t be sorry. Tell you the truth, it’s been a long time since a guy flirted with me. If it takes the end of the world, then so be it.”
Andras patted her on the knee and gave it a furtive squeeze. He nodded to her coffee cup. “Time for a refill. Allow me.”
Mina grabbed his hand. “Your job fetching the coffee is over. I’ll make this one.”
Andras smiled. “Milk, three sugars.”
“Wow, you like it sweet.”
“What’s life without the senses?”
On her way to get the drinks, Mina swung by to say hello to Corporal Martin. The soldier looked ready to drop, wobbling on his feet and rubbing at his eyes every couple of seconds. “You look ready to fall into a coma, Martin. You should get some sleep.”
He smiled at her. “I keep meaning to call it a day, but something else pops up that I need to deal with and another hour passes by.”
“Are you still in contact with the Army?”
He nodded. “I assumed they would call me back to base, but Command has asked me to remain here and pass on any intel you folks get.”
“Makes sense,” she admitted. “I’ll let you know whatever I find. You know about the iron, right?”
“Yes, I passed it up the c
hain of command. They’re already looking at ways to make use of it. Maybe setting up a central base surrounded by iron fences, or fashioning ammunition out of it, I don’t know. If only it wasn’t such an outdated substance. Wooden stakes would be better.”
“Like in the movies?”
“Yep. We have plenty of wood, but not so much iron. Would make the war a lot easier if people could just grab the nearest chair leg.”
“When is war ever easy?”
“I suppose you’re right. Still, most wars aren’t against supernatural creatures that aren’t supposed to even exist. A little help would be fair enough in my book.”
Mina’s phone rang. She pulled it out her pocket and sighed. It was her father again. “I have to take this.”
Corporal Martin nodded. “Of course.”
Mina headed away to get some privacy. The newsroom was still a chaotic hive, so she headed out the exit into the waiting area. There was a chair behind the reception desk, so she sat as she answered the call.
“Dad, I didn’t expect to hear from you again.”
“Mina, you are safe?”
“Yes. I’m fine, dad. Are you oka—”
“The monsters are here, Mina. Mrs Patel next door is screaming. I can hear her. Mina, what should I do?”
Mina bolted to her feet, clutching the phone and wishing she could yank her father right through it. “Hide, dad. You need to hide.”
“But your website says to fight. Should I go help Mrs Patel?”
Mina almost got stuck on the fact that her father had been reading her website, but she knew there was no time for pride. Her father was in danger. Could she really tell him to hide when she knew it was the wrong thing to do?
“How many are there, dad?”
“Hundreds. They just appeared in the streets, dragging people from their houses. They will be here soon, Mina. My God, Mrs Patel, has stopped screaming. I think they killed her.”
“Hide, dad. You need to hide, and I’ll find a way to come get you.”
There was silence on the line. Then: “No, Mina. I cannot hide. You are out there helping people and facing the evil. How can I hide when my daughter is so brave? I will not hide. I must fight the monsters so that there are less of them for you to face in the days ahead.”
“Dad, listen to me-”
“I love you, Mina. I am proud. And I am sorry.”
Mina shouted down the phone, but was forced to listen to her father’s manic shouts as he entered some unseen battle. She heard the shrieks of monsters, the screams of victims. Then the line went dead.
“Dad? Dad?” She knew it was of no use, but she couldn’t help it. She kept on shouting. “Dad?”
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Andras came into the waiting room, two coffees in his hands. When he saw the state she was in, he placed them down on the reception desk and went over to her. “What’s happened?”
“My dad. H-he was attacked. I…” She shook her head as tears came.
Andras put his arms around her and pulled her close. “I’m sorry.” He left it at that.
“He said he was proud of me.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t he be?”
She huffed. “You never knew my father. I’ve never seen him be proud of me, ever.”
“Then at least he got to be proud of you before he died. You’re helping people.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Well, it’s true. People are already fighting back because of your website.”
Mina’s phone went again. She snatched it up to her ear. “Dad? Dad? Oh, it’s you, David. Yeah, I’m in the reception area. I… What? No, I didn’t. I was just there, and everything was… Jesus. I’ll get back on it right away.”
She put the phone back in her pocket and looked at Andras. “Did you do anything on my computer?”
Andras smiled. “Like what?”
“David just told me that the website has been deleted. All the information we posted is gone.”
Andras frowned. “Weird.”
“Yeah, it is. You were sat at my computer when I came out here. What did you do, Andras?”
“Nothing. I… Maybe I did something by accident.”
“No, you’re an IT specialist. You wouldn’t accidentally delete a website. You could only have done it on purpose.”
Andras folded his arms. “What are you accusing me of, Mina?”
She sighed, rubbed at her eyes with her thumbs. “Nothing. Sorry. I need to take a look at my laptop and just hope I can get everything back online. I’ll soon find out what happened. Andras, if you did something by accident it could cost people their lives.”
“Good.”
Mina had been about to walk away, but the comment stunned her. She turned to Andras in confusion. “Good? What do you mean, ‘good’?”
He grinned at her, his teeth mouldy, his breath foul. “I mean good that your pathetic attempts to get people fighting are finished before they even got started. You really think you can change anything with a silly little blog? You’re all doomed.”
The venom in Andras’s words was enough to make her stagger back. “Y-you’re helping the demons?”
“No, I’m not helping them, you stupid worm. I’m one of them.”
Mina opened her mouth to shout for help, but Andras’s hand went over her lips and stifled her. His other hand went over her nose, and he forced her down to the ground and climbed on top of her chest. She couldn’t breathe.
Andras glared at her as she struggled.
“There will be no resistance,” he hissed. “You are all going to die, and this world will be ours. Do you know what it’s like to spend an eternity in the fires of Hell? You will find out.”
“Mina? Are you out here?”
It was David. He was looking for her. Mina was behind the reception desk—out of sight—with Andras pressing down on top of her. She tried to scream out, to kick at something and make a noise, but she could barely move. She raked at Andras’s neck and squealed as one of her nails tore away.
“Mina?” David called out again. “Damn it, girl, I need you to help me get this website sorted. Where are you?”
Mina tried desperately to cry out.
The door swung closed again.
David had gone.
Andras laughed as her vision began to darken. It felt like her head would explode, her eyes bulged out of their sockets. Breathing was so instinctual and automatic, but right now she couldn’t catch a single mouthful of air. Every cell in her body panicked. Andras kept on pressing down, squeezing her nose and mouth shut. He bent over her and licked her face. “Sweet dreams, maggot.”
Mina hated that the last thing she would see was her murderer laughing at her terror, but that’s exactly what happened.
PART THREE
“You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war.”
--Napoleon Bonaparte
~TONY CROSS~
8 miles north of the Euphrates, Syria
“We’re fucked,” said Tony as Aymun and the remaining fighters regrouped behind the vehicles.
Aymun agreed. “Yes, we die here.”
Tony looked around desperately. “Where’s Harris and that PKM? We need to get it firing again.”
Corporal Rose pointed over to a battered old van and shook his head. Private Harris was slumped up against the rear tyre with his chin resting against his chest. “He did’na make it, Staffie.”
Tony cursed the air. Harris’s wounds had caught up with him, and he had bled out from a torn gut. The PKM was nowhere in sight.
And the demons were coming.
Along with Corporal Rose, only two of the British soldiers still lived. Aymun’s men were all dead, but about ten of the villagers remained. Tony had witnessed the death of hundreds of brave men and women in less than forty-eight hours.
What was left of them returned fire, trying to take down the demons before they formed up again in groups. They had the advantage for now, pick
ing off the enemy one by one as they came through the gate disorientated, but the advantage would not last forever. They were running out of ammunition, and trying to keep up with the flow of demons flooding through the gate was already beginning to outpace them. Now and then, a demon would make it a few feet before going down to a headshot.
“We can’t keep this up,” said Tony. “We have to retreat.”
Aymun nodded. “Perhaps that is wise, but I will not go.”
“Don’t be a fool and die here, Aymun. This isn’t a test. Allah doesn’t require you to die.”
“No,” he said. “I require it of myself. I am tired of fighting infidels and invaders. It is time I struck at my enemy in their home.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will die having looked upon our enemy truly, so that I may pass on the information to Allah. He needs soldiers in the next life, as well as this one. This is not his work.”
Tony tried to understand and thought that he might. “You’re going to go through the gate?”
“Yes. Will you cover me, my friend?”
“I…” Tony saw there was no point in arguing. “I’ll make sure you get there.”
Aymun smiled, seemingly at peace. “Continue the fight after I am gone.”
“Damn right I will.”
“Good to have met you, Tony.”
“You too, Aymun.”
Without another word, Aymun broke cover and sprinted towards the glowing gate. Tony gave the nod, and the remaining men laid down covering fire, riddling the gate’s entrance with what remained of their ammunition. Demons danced and spun as bullets ripped them apart, but one by one, their rifles ran dry, and the chorus of gunfire lessened. Dead demons continued piling up in front of the gate, but more and more continued coming through.
Aymun ran so fast, he kicked up dirt behind him. He’d thrown down his rifle now, but held a grenade above his head—pin removed, ready to be released. The villagers shouted something in Arabic—numuur numuur—while Tony’s last few men gritted their teeth and remained silent.
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