“Be careful, General.”
“Be careful of what, Chancellor? Are you threatening war? Are you seriously making threats against your fellow human beings after what we have all been through? Do you think that is what your people need right now? Be a leader, Chancellor, and fight for peace, not war. And keep your bloody eyes off my toys because you’re not having any of them.”
“General—”
She ended the call and almost threw down the phone. “Bloody imbecile. Can you believe him? Nothing’s changed.”
“It’s just a submarine,” said Maddy. “What does he even want it for?”
“It’s not the sub, it’s the warheads. We might have the only armed nuclear weapons in the world, and that makes us undeniably powerful—something the Chancellor does not like in the slightest.”
Maddy folded her arms and seemed to shiver. “You would never use them, would you?”
“Seeing as how Commander Klein and I have already discussed dropping them into the ocean, you may rest assured that they are not in any of my future plans.”
Maddy lifted her dark eyebrows. “You want to chuck them in the sea?”
“With men like Chancellor Capri, I feel it best they were lost altogether. He won't make a fuss about something we don't have. Commander Klein agrees with me, and after he hears what his Sovereign leader has been demanding, I imagine he will make his way to the middle of the Atlantic very soon.”
“Do you really think the Chancellor would start trouble with us?”
Wickstaff sat down at her desk and rubbed her forehead. “No, not yet. His land forces in Central Europe are larger than ours, but they also have war against the demons on a dozen fronts. The German Federation will be occupied for years to come. But while men might gain power slowly, they can abuse it in a second. I worry about our future, Maddy. Will it be any different from our past? If so, then I ask, what are we even fighting for? Humanity is a bird with a broken wing, and there's no point healing if we end up flying sideways.”
“It won’t be the same,” said Maddy. “We won’t let it. We fight for each other here at Portsmouth, and we will build a world people deserve. Chancellor Capri can suck our dicks.”
Wickstaff smirked and got up from her chair. “He most certainly can. I’m going for a coffee. You want one?”
“I wouldn't say no.”
They headed out of the Command tent beside the docks and headed for the coffee shop. While the city itself was in ruins, the docks had become a small settlement, full of canvas roofs and lean-tos housing families and loners alike. This was the seed from which a nation would once again grow.
People milled about everywhere, shoving past one another, but always nodding politely. They didn't curse or anger one another, not anymore. They were forever bonded. Family. One man, however, marched stiffly towards Wickstaff without stopping to apologise to the people he shoved. People hopped out of his way, confused by what would make him push so rudely.
Wickstaff stopped her walk and reached out to grab Maddy’s arm.
The man wore a grimy hoody, and he pulled back the hood to reveal his face. The snarling jaws of a demon opened. A handgun emerged from the hoodie's pocket and pointed at Wickstaff. An assassin.
The creature hissed with delight as it sighted a clear shot at Wickstaff. She could do nothing but throw her arms up vainly. Maddy cried out and tried to leap in front of her. But she was too slow. Too many steps required.
An almighty gunshot echoed off the parade square.
The demon slumped to the ground. Its mushed head splatted its grimy hoodie.
Diane stood over the corpse with a smoking shotgun. “Fucking bastard! That’s the third this week.” She looked up at Wickstaff. “I’m so sorry, Ma’am.”
Wickstaff waved her hand. “Better late than never. We’re going for a coffee, Diane. Fancy coming?”
Diane nodded. “Best stay close to you until we get a handle on all these assassins.”
“Don’t worry so much, Diane. It takes a lot to keep a good woman down, and with you two watching my back, the demons have no hope. Now, let’s go get that coffee before the next crisis begins. I swear, a woman’s work is never done.”
38
LUCAS
“Hello, Danny Boy.”
Daniel slumped in the corner of his cell, maggots festering in his flesh. His golden hair was filthy, and the stumps of his wings were sore. It hurt Lucas to see. It had been his actions that led Daniel here. When the Fallen Angel looked out through his bars and saw Lucas, he began to weep. “Lucifer? Are you here to torment me?”
“Behave, lad! You been locked away a long time, brother, and for that, I'll be eternally sorry. But much has changed. Name’s Lucas now, if you don’t mind. Gave my former mantel to some no mark from the Pits. This whole war on God thing is partly my fault. The new Lucifer turned out to be a bit of a wet fish, as it turns out. He let that bloody eejit, the Red Lord, get his hooks into the place.”
Daniel nodded. “I heard you’d changed. Wasn’t sure I believed it.”
Lucas waved his hands, and the iron bars melted away into nothingness. Then he blinked, and the maggots disappeared from Daniel’s flesh.
“Come here, brother. It has been too long.”
Daniel rubbed at his now-healed flesh, then crept apprehensively towards Lucas. As soon as he was near, Lucas reached out and pulled him into a hug.
Daniel sobbed loudly.
Lucas held him tight, trying to absorb his suffering. “I am sorry, brother, for leading you to your downfall. All of your sins, I own fully, and one day, I am sure Father will let you back into paradise. But that can only happen if he remains in power.”
“I tried to help,” said Daniel thickly. “The humans.”
“Aye, you did at that. Your actions made all the difference, lad. You did good.”
“Good?”
Lucas chuckled. “Takes a while to sink in at first, doesn't it? Yes, you did good, and can continue to do so. For a long time, I owned what I was, acted the Devil I was named, but one day I came to a remarkably simple revelation. I realised that what we were yesterday is set in stone, but what we are tomorrow is up to us. We were angels once, Daniel, and we can be again.”
Daniel glanced over his shoulder at the burnt stumps where his wings had been.
Lucas touched his face and got his full attention again. “Wings do not make an angel, Daniel. It’s more than that, and you know it.”
Daniel nodded. “I want to help.”
“Then come with me. We have a king to usurp.”
“You want to regain control of Hell?”
“It's the last thing I bloody want, but I need to take charge until I can figure something out. I need to get the place sealed up again. Hell’s leaking like an old dear's bladder.”
Daniel stopped walking and squinted at Lucas as if something suddenly occurred to him. “You kept me locked up for millennia, Lucifer. Why keep me prisoner if you turned back towards the light?”
Lucas sighed. “Because once you start opening cages in Hell, you never know what will get out. It was best your cage remained closed, but now that the patients are running the asylum, it doesn't matter. You are free. I can never give you back what I took, brother, but I hope to have eternity to make it up to you. Please, Daniel, forgive me.”
Daniel flinched, as if the very notion was absurd. It was. Lucas had locked Daniel up for thousands of years.
Slowly, the Fallen angel nodded. “God would have me forgive you, Lucifer, so forgive you I will. I love you brother.”
“And I you. Seriously though, it's Lucas now.”
Footsteps.
A newcomer's voice. “What the...? Hey, man. I know you!”
Lucas turned to see the most unexpected thing. The young thug on which he'd bestowed Daniel’s sword now stood in Hell's hallways, bumping into him as if they were old friends at a bar. “Jamal?”
“Vamps, man. Enough with the Jamal bullshit.” He waved his flaming sword
. “Thanks for this, by the way.”
Daniel’s eyes went wide. “Hey! Is that my sword?”
Lucas blushed. “Yeah, erm, about that... I kind of gave it to this fella.”
Daniel glared at Lucas, and then at Vamps. Vamps pulled the sword closer to him like a child protecting his favourite toy. Then Daniel’s eyes moved to one of Vamp’s companions, of which there were two. “R-Rick, is that you?”
Rick beamed and went over to Daniel, giving him a hug even harder than the one Lucas had given him.
“Daniel, you’re okay! What you gave to me… your gift...”
“Is gone,” said Daniel. “If you are here in Hell, my power has left you.”
“I know. As soon as I arrived, I could tell I was my old normal self again. It’s made surviving in this place a little tougher, but luckily I had help.”
“I have been here before,” said Aymun. “The place has not gotten any nicer.”
“We’re going to change that,” said Lucas. “Hey, who you got back there with you?”
Vamps yanked a chain he was holding. On his hands and knees, a naked, dirty man scurried towards them. “Prime Minister Windsor,” Vamps explained. “If you can believe it. He told us a group of soldiers caught up to him and tossed him through a gate. Lucky, we found him first.”
“He’s been helping the enemy,” said Lucas.
“We know,” said Rick. “We figure he’ll learn his lesson eventually, but for now he gets to play doggie.”
Windsor was broken but unharmed. Lucas could tell no one had beaten the man. A little humiliation, however, was the least the arrogant fool deserved.
“What are you doing here?” Lucas asked the three men.
“We came to end this,” said Rick. “But we’ve been lost in Hell for what feels like forever. This place is empty.”
“Haven’t eaten or drank anything in weeks,” said Vamps. “But…”
Lucas nodded. “You don’t need those things here. The damned are all back in their cages for now, and Hell is vast, which is why you haven't seen anyone. As for being lost, it's because you are still living. Only the damned may navigate the hallways. Luckily, you’re talking to the damnedest of them all.”
Rick nodded. “You can lead us to the Red Lord?”
“Aye! It just so happens to be the very place I’m heading. You fellas want to tag along?”
They all did.
So, Lucas strolled through Hell with a force far larger than he expected, yet smaller than he needed. He re-joined Damien, who waited sullenly for his return and gathered the dozen or so Fallen Angels wishing to fight for mankind's future. Lucas knew each of them ultimately hoped for God’s forgiveness, but it was not something he could promise them. It was frightening to admit he hoped the same thing for himself.
They gathered outside a giant set of gates, forged from the thickest iron. They were so tall that one could barely see the top while standing at the bottom. Lucas knew the gates well.
“I can’t touch the iron,” said Lucas. “Not since I gave up the throne.”
Damien stepped forward and placed his hands against the doors. They began to open of their own volition. The throne room lay inside. Lucas led the way.
“Can’t say I like what you’ve done with the place, Red,” he said, walking down the centre aisle. Human skulls covering the walls and ceiling were part of the new refurb, but what worried Lucas more were the Creator’s Crystals. In the centre of the throne room stood the Grand Repository. Inside were the ancient crystals. Each one represented a world. Each one allowed the reigning King of Hell to watch the lives of every man and woman on every world. Lucifer had spent millennia witnessing the acts of mankind, and it had been scenes of love, sacrifice, and devotion that had eventually led him to give up the throne and leave. A vast majority of the crystals were cloudy or black. The worlds were fading away, dying as the Red Lord laid siege to each one in turn. Only a handful still shone with their rightful vitality. One, he saw, was brightening by the second. A world the three humans by his side had recently departed. That world was healing. But the rest…
“Hey,” said Vamps, moving up to take a look at the crystals. “I can see zombies in this glass ball. And this one… this one has a bunch of animals killing people. What the Hell?”
“These are all of God’s creations,” explained Lucas. “He had to make numerous worlds to contain his vast life force. As each one falls, the protection around Paradise weakens. Soon, Heaven will fall vulnerable to attack, and God's enemies will seek to depose him. That’s what the Red Lord wants—to blacken all these crystals and take over Paradise. The human worlds are just a means to an end.”
The throne room echoed with slow applause. Lucas looked towards the back of the room where a giant chair made of flame flickered.
The Infernal Throne.
Damn thing still had his butt imprint in it, he was certain. Strolling down the stairs in front of the throne, a dark-featured child gazed upon them.
He continued to clap slowly.
“A guided tour of Hell, how nice for you Lucifer Primus—to see you fall so low.”
“Nothing wrong with menial labour,” said Lucas. “Builds character. Good to meet you finally, son.”
Rick frowned. “This kid is your son?”
Lucas blushed. “Yeah, it was a drunken night with his mum. Just the once, mind you. I should have worn protection. Turns out, I accidentally spawned the Anti-Christ. It wasn’t my finest hour.”
“My birth was pre-ordained before existence itself,” said the boy. “On Earth, I was named Sam, but here, I am the prince of Hell, Wormwood.”
“Didn’t I already kill this kid once?” Damien muttered at the back.
“You’re a brat,” said Lucas. “You couldn’t even destroy the one world you were on, let alone a thousand of them. What the Red Lord wants with you, I don’t know.”
“He wants me to gain my birth right, Father. Your death will complete the prophecies and endow me with the power of God’s greatest adversary. I shall take your place at the vanguard of a new war on Heaven. I shall drag God's corpse before the Red—”
“Look,” said Lucas. “Me and the man upstairs had a bit of a disagreement, but I wouldn’t call us adversaries.”
Sam snarled. “No matter. I shall end you, Father. And I shall become you. The new King of Hell.”
Wormwood ran at them then—his childish grin melting into a monstrous, toothy leer. His arms lengthened into sinewy claws, and he grew twelve feet, towering above them.
Damien leapt in front of the beast, but was swatted aside like a bug.
The three humans scattered. The Fallen Angels raised their hands to use their powers.
Lucas exploded. In the blink of an eye, he grew thirty feet, and from his back leapt fiery wings. His eyes glowed like embers. He threw out a hand and engulfed Wormwood in a hot, white glow.
The beast screamed, twisted and lurched.
The white light grew brighter, filling the cavern and blinding all within. Then it began to shrink, the glow compressing like an imploding star. Within seconds, the glow was nothing but a tiny ball at Lucas’s giant feet. Wormwood was nowhere to be seen.
A kitten meowed.
Vamps staggered. “Shit, yo! He turned that bitch into a pussycat. That’s gangster!”
Lucas shrunk back to his normal height and tried to hide how knackered he was by brushing himself off briskly. Wormwood purred at his feet. He picked the animal up and petted it.
“I always say you should try keeping a pet before having a sprog. And cats pretty much look after themselves.”
“The Lord still works through you,” said Aymun. “You have his light.”
Lucas put down the cat and looked away from his companions. “Any power I have is undeserved, but I hope to relinquish it one day and be forgiven.”
“Is he… Will he stay like that?” asked Rick, nodding at the fluffy white kitten.
Lucas shrugged. His shoulders ached. “Unless som
eone changes him back. He may be a little sod, but he’s still my son. Killing my offspring probably isn't the best way back into Heaven’s good graces. He’ll have to be someone else’s problem if he ever comes back.”
Damien rose from the ground, apparently unhurt by Wormwood steamrolling him. One of his ribs was sticking out, but he shoved it back into place with his palm. Then he went and stood at Lucas’s side.
“The throne is empty,” said Daniel. “Can you just take it back, Lucas?”
Lucas shook his head. “It’s not empty.”
As if proving the jig was up, the flames of the Infernal Throne began to rage, leaping higher and higher. Flesh and bone began to materialise in the fire—a figure taking shape. Lucas breathed heavy. He feared he would not be strong enough for the battle ahead. His brothers were with him, but their foe was almost as strong as God himself.
A being even more ancient.
“Get ready,” said Lucas. “The Red Lord is about to grace us with his presence.”
The Infernal Throne hissed and spat. Heat filled the chamber, and a million screams erupted from the flames. Something massive emerged and started down the steps towards them.
Something wicked.
“Holy shit!” said Vamps. “I’m gunna need a bigger sword.”
39
TONY CROSS
Tony Cross was now a captain, which wasn't bad going for a former Staff Sergeant. Being an officer wasn't like the old days though. All the plummy, silver-spoon idiots were dead, and the only Sandhurst-trained officers alive were the ones with half a brain. Most officers today had been promoted in the field, and seven out of ten had been NCOs in an earlier life.
After the war in Turkey—won when a cancerous old Sergeant-Major jumped through the gate in Istanbul, allowing humanity's forces to take down two angels with bunker busters launched from the back of a lorry—forces in the area refocused on liberating the Middle-East. Tony had re-joined British Forces in Iraq, and he once again served side by side with his countrymen. Not that they worked in isolation though. Men and women from every nation fought together now, and for the first time in history, the Persian Gulf was unified. Arguments of religion and sovereignty had all been forgotten. All that mattered now was sending the demons back to Hell.
Extinction: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel (Hell on Earth Book 3) Page 23