Hot Cross sighed again but this time it was more like an irritation at being disturbed. Still sitting by the wall, he raised the other hand, made a fist then pointed his index finger, like a child playing with an imaginary gun.
“Let’s see if I can make like Bulls Eye!”
He concentrated and the next second shot a blast of energy at the head of a smaller Shade. It stumbled forwards crashed to its knees and exploded.
“Hot damn!” He realised that with his other hand connected to the buildings main circuit, he had an endless supply of energy shots. He started to blast all over the place, one managed to hit a policeman in the shoulder as he suddenly stood up. The copper spun round and fell without a sound.
“SORRY!”
Another policeman popped up his head, “What the hecks going on?”
“Is your friend ok?” Hot Cross asked as he fired off three bolts in quick succession.
“Just shocked. Are you using a taser….. Jesus !”
That in response to the fact Hot Cross was not using a Taser but firing what appeared to be bolts of lightning from his finger tip. The officer glanced over at the strange woman with flowing moving white hair and white eyes. He watched as she let loose another long wicked looking arrow that exploded another of these things. ‘Who the hell are they?’
But instead of asking, he took a deep breath and shouted, “Don’t fire!”
Jumping to his feet with his telescopic metal Asp at the ready, his intention was to recover the arrows that lay in the ash covered floor near the door.
Huntress shouted across to him as he gave a passing Shade one big whack to the side of its head and grabbed up four arrows with his other hand.”
“Rub an arrow head along your weapon then try it.”
Police Constable 846 Fitzpatrick did as he was told, even if he did remotely and somewhat disturbingly, find that suggestion sexually provocative. But he’d seen enough to know that these two knew what these creatures where and how to kill them. He ducked under the reach of a smaller Shade, hit it with his asp and watched as it exploded, but got smashed in the face by another. Hurled backward, he landed on top of a cowering powerfully built male.
“Get off me!”
Fitzpatrick was surprised when the male sounded so effeminate!
“Sorry sir,” He rolled off, slide along the floor keeping his head below the bench row. Seeing an arrow lying in a pile of ash, he made a grab for. A ghoul reached over the top of the bench and seized him by the hair.
The ‘sir’ in question smashed a double handed blow to the side of its head with a very large handbag, sending the ghoul skidding sideways. Helping the officer to his feet he smiled, “Used to be John now it’s Jane.”
The policeman would have kissed her if not for the two day growth on ‘her’ chin’. Instead he just nodded his thanks and rushed over to Huntress with half a dozen arrows.
Hot Cross was starting to enjoy himself in all this mayhem and confusion, “Huntress go see if that door behind the judges bench leads out of here. I’ll hold the fort!”
The ghoul that had attacked the officer came back for more, its blood smeared mouth reaching for his face. The bow in Huntresses hands came alive. In a fraction of a second she drew aimed and fired. The arrow missed the police officers face by half an inch as it took the ghoul dead centre in its forehead. Having been used once the arrows had lost some of there power and strength but could still do the job. The ghoul collapsed in a heap. Huntress leaned in past the gaping police officer and yanked free her arrow.
Jane smiled, “I love your hair. How do you get it to move like that?”
“Get yourself hung.” She replied, running to the door behind the judges bench, “Leads to a room with two doors leading off it.” Huntress shouted.
A court usher raised his head from the floor, “One door leads to his honours bathroom, the other a staircase down to the back entrance.”
There was a moments calm before more Shades arrived, giving Huntress time to look at the carnage.
Five people where down and dead, at least they’d stopped screaming so she presumed they were dead. More Shades were gathering in the shattered doorway to the crowded court.
“Shit!” she whispered.
Hot Cross saw a bunch of Shades enter and gave them all a prolonged blast that downed four but six or so carried on into the court. They could smell blood and saw the cowering public. Two however turned and reached for him. He blasted one right through the mouth but as it exploded the other sank its fangs into his arm.
Huntress snapped an arrow to her bow and shot the Shade through the neck, the head exploded and the body fell to ash.
The police officer was in trouble, he’d jumped in to help Hot Cross. He was fighting with a ghoul and a big chunk of flesh was missing from his left cheek, exposed several teeth along his jaw line. Huntress jumped over a Shade eating an already dead woman. Ignoring it she struck an arrow deep into the ghouls left ear, piercing the head. The ghoul collapsed along with the police officer, who looked more dead than alive. A Shade hit her across the back of her head, propelling her forward. She tripped over a body and went down in a heap.
Hot Cross decided it was time to get to his feet and used a passing Shades arm to pull him upright. “Bugger off!” He sent a flash of several thousand volts up its arm. It went off like a fire cracker.
Huntress was now back on her feet and had helped the policeman up as well, together they where herding the others towards the judges chambers and escape. A Shade stumbled into view blocking there path. Hot Cross hit the Shade across the face like Chris had done, but in this case there was a clap of thunder and a huge flash of light. When the light cleared, the Shade was gone, totally obliterated.
“Nice one! Didn’t know I could do that. Right you slime balls, who’s next?”
“I am.”A dry cold voice replied from behind him. Spinning around and preparing to blast whoever had spoken. Hot Cross saw for a second the flash of a silvery blade and then nothing.
In the private rear gardens of Aspley House once famous as the Duke of Wellington home. A battle royal raged fit to compete with Waterloo itself. Two hundred and eighty Shades had rushed out from Hyde Park Corners underground railway station, leaving behind dozens of mutilated corpses. Blubbering madly, they climbed the wall into the rear garden, intent on storming the house.
Although on display as a national heritage for arts and treasures belonging to the Duke, the house had a hidden side to it. The basement was home to the communications wing of MI5 and 6.
Jennings had sent two units to protect that area, recognising it as one of strategic importance. Starlight security was until yesterday, the agency tasked with its unobtrusive protection.
It was hard to try and second guess The Dark but in this case he had come up trumps. It was only the numbers of his enemy that he’d gotten wrong. His men concealed behind statuettes, low walls and dense foliage. Opened fire the moment the Shades started to pour over the far wall. The watch commander on duty at the home recognised their credentials and was acutely aware of the fact that all hell was breaking loose around him.
Watching from the monitors deep underground, he issued orders, “Inform Thames House we are under attack and to send re-enforcements now.”
The radio operator to whom he was speaking, looked up from his computer, “Mister Morrison Sir, they’re under attack as well as New Scotland Yard, the treasury Building, St Paul’s, The Houses of Parliament and Horse guard barracks. Besides that there are hundreds of incidents throughout the area. Every police patrol is engaged. Every hospitals either full or under attack.”
‘God help us all’ was the only thing he could think of.
Silently he watched the fire fight taking place above him. Starlight security seemed prepared for the attack. Apart from their normal side arms, he saw at least eight machine guns, Heckler and Koch MP5’s by the look of them. The men were firing in short controlled bursts. Dozens of those monsters were blasted apart but
kept on coming until finally they exploded in what looked like fire and ash.
‘Come on guys!’ he willed them to win.
Then right before his eyes, two figures materialised out of thin air! One was a leather clad gun Slinger for heavens sake! The other was a one armed man, also in leather, looking soaking wet but carrying a nasty looking knife. What was it called, a yes a Bowie knife or Rambo knife depending on your age, it was a nasty weapon indeed. But then again his body was covered in sheathed knives, including what looked like a short sword strapped down his back.
The one with the twin guns, (hang on they looked like Colt Peacemakers!) sprang to fill a gap between the still firing security men and women. He carried a large holdall, which he carefully lowered. He made no attempt to hide and stood with hands dangling on either side of each gun. My God it was your genuine gunfighters crouch. Then faster than he thought possible, both weapons sprang into his hands and started to buckle in his hands as he emptied each gun. A dozen monster exploded within as many seconds, each one a head shot.
‘Boy that guy can shoot!’ thought Morrison He watched as the gun fighter started to reload. The one armed man took his place and in the blink of an eye ran forward twenty feet. No one could run that fast! He started to spin and turn, the Kukri carving huge circles in the air before him. Shade after Shade exploded as each one was either beheaded in cut in two, the bodies just kept on exploding for Gods sake!
The gunfighter had reloaded and sidestepped to get a view and opened fire, his bullets whistling past on either side of the one armed knife fighter. Between them and the security guards, they destroyed nearly all of the Shades. The last few turned and ran for the wall but were cut down before they could escape.
Morrison breathed a sigh of relief, “They did it!”
Then a hundred and fifty plus Shades burst over the walls, “Oh shit.”
The one with the Colts spun each weapon back into there holsters, “No, No carry on firing!” He shouted.
The man wasn’t fazed and slowly he knelt to unzip the holdall and produced a bloody hand held mini Gatling gun with a belt of bullets leading back into the bag.
The gunfighter waited until they were within fifty feet, “Slash hit the deck!”
The one called Slash dived for the ground as the gunfighter opened fire. Hundreds of spent bullet casings bounced and spun through the air. The weapon roared with fire as over five hundred rounds were fired in fifteen seconds! When the rotating chamber slowed and stopped, the garden was empty except for a cloud of spreading red hot ash. A single bush caught fire and a thin tree fell slowly over into its side.
The security guards straightened up, waving away grey clouds of gun smoke and in that smoke the strange leather clad duo disappeared.
Back in Trafalgar Square, Priest screamed once in pain and screamed out one word, “Death!”
“NO!” Anvil roared.
Bulls Eye and Slash reappeared at his side. Chris ran over. “Old Bailey.” he said quietly. Closing his eyes, he willed himself and Anvil to the In Between, together they ran at an unbelievable speed. It took them no more than three minutes to reach there destination. Anvil smashed three Shades to oblivion who were blocking the entrance. Chris sent a wave of pure energy down the corridor.” Be Judged.” But this time it was in his voice and not that of Judgements. The air rippled like a moving wave of water. As it struck, Shade after Shade exploded in flaming ash. Chris charged down the corridor instinctively turning left and ran up a public stairwell. The others followed hot on his heals. They burst onto the corridor that led to several courts, over eighty Shades turned to stare at him. Anger showed on his face. Chris removed his wide brimmed hat, “Be Judged and damned!” He roared and sent his hat flying. Fire burst from the rim and like a giant Catherine wheel it cut through the Shades. A great bubbling wail rose and was almost instantly cut off. Chris’s hat completed a half turn and spun back to his hand, in its wake, nothing was left but a huge cloud of slowly settling black ash and red hot soot.
Even Anvil was impressed, “Which way?” He asked.
Chris shook his head, “Dread awaits us.” His voice was a strange mixture of both voices.
Stepping through the deep mound of ash, Chris pushed open two big thick wooden doors, leading to court number 1. He noticed both large brass handles where melted. A ghouls hand was stuck fast, charred and melted into the metal.
Inside, the place was a bloody carnage. Bodies lay everywhere. A Police Constable was sitting on a bench with a gashed face was holding onto a badly bleeding forearm. A door behind the Judges bench was wide open. Chris noticed that the police officer wasn’t looking at him but off to his left behind one of the wide open double front doors to the court.
Springing forward he raised a fist as if to strike before slowly lowering his hand. Anvil saw the look on his face and moved so he too could see behind the door, as did Bulls Eye and Slash.
Huntress was sitting on the floor, silently weeping. In her hands she held the body of Hot Cross. His head was missing.
She looked up as they entered, “He took it.”
Anvil cleared his throat, “What?”
She looked up into his eyes, “Edge did this. He took the head as a trophy.”
She turned to look up at Chris, “He told me to tell you this was for Shadow.”
Anvil rested a hand on Huntresses shoulder, “Come on let me carry him back to Priest.”
Huntress nodded towards the police officer, “We got the civilians out through the back but he stayed back to help, a damn brave human. The funny thing was Edge could have killed me but he left me as a witness so I could tell you who had killed Hot Cross.”
Anvil walked over to Constable Fitzpatrick instantly recognising the man had lost a hell of a lot of blood. “You need medical help my friend.”
The officer slowly looked up into Anvils face, blinking several times to clear his vision, “You’re a big bugger aren’t you!” He looked from his Asp that lay across his lap to Anvils hammer, “Swap you.”
“Son this man needs your help.” Anvil asked.
For a second he thought Chris hadn’t heard then reluctantly Chris walked over to kneel down besides the badly wounded officer and willed him to live. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he healed the policeman.
When he’d finished, the officer had a nasty scar on his cheek but would live. Chris slowly climbed to his feet and shrugged off his fathers arm, “Chris, son what now?”
Chris replaced his hat upon his head and stepped out into the corridor. Slash asked him what he was going to do.
“To Kill or forgive. The choice shall be theirs.” His voice was filled with sorrow as well as anger.
Chapter Twenty One
London was burning. At least a hundred and forty major fires raged throughout the city. Drury Lane theatre was well ablaze as was part of New Scotland Yard. The lower eight floors of the Gurkin burned fiercely as twenty fire fighters fought to save the building. Three underground stations where infernos. The House of Lords was full of black smoke as hundreds of years of tradition and history went up in flames but the fire brigade looked like they where getting it under control, Fire river boats sprayed thousands of gallons of river water in through shattered windows.
The London Eye was collapsed and partially submerged. A half dozen cruise boats drifted past with the tide, flames and black smoke billowing from each abandoned vessel, one sank as it hit broadside on with a section of the half submerged Eye.
Fleet Street was ablaze from end to end, burning so badly no one could get near to enough to fight the corridor of superheated gas. Several dozen stores also burned, including Harrods. Treasury House was only partially on fire but everything inside was smashed or shattered.
It was a terrible disaster but it could have been a whole lot worse. Eighty two percent of the city remained un-touched or only slightly damaged. Buckingham Palace and St Paul’s both survived thanks to armed police and armed palace guardsmen. The City of London has 32 boroughs
, of which 13 are in the inner damaged area. Out of approximately eight million people who live in London, a head count would eventually reveal that only eight hundred and ninety eight had died. Eleven thousand were badly injured, with some sixteen thousand; walking wounded.
The Prime Minster met with COBRA and declared martial law until the enemy could be identified and made to pay. A seven pm curfew was now in force and two regiments of the army now patrolled the streets of London together with every available police officer and for the first time in history, every one of them was armed, even those without any training. Tourists and locals, trapped in the war zone, were rounded up and moved into the grounds of Buckingham Palace and the adjourning army barracks. Tanks stood at the entrance gates to the Palace and at each end of every bridge that crossed the Thames.
The Home secretary had been briefed on the events of the day and it appeared they had Starlight security to thank, along with some ‘very special task force operatives’ as the Cobra memo stated, for initial damage confinement. He placed several question marks against that bit of information along with the name ‘Smith’.
Judgement (The Twelve) Page 24