Hell Gate

by Josh Matthews

  “Let me help,” said Jason as he rushed toward Doc.

  Doc grabbed Jason by the shoulders. “You stay here.”

  “She’s my mother.”

  “I don’t have time to argue.” Doc pushed Jason back against the partition wall. “Promise me you won’t move from this spot.”

  “I promise.” Jason stayed put as the others scrambled for the exit, watching the rescue attempt through the fractured glass.

  Doc stepped into the doorway and was dragged across the decelerator room by the roaring wind. Jason thought he would be sucked into the portal. At the last minute, the hose grew taut, jerking Doc to a stop a few feet from the opening. He maneuvered over to Lisa, held out his left hand, and clasped it around her wrist. She hesitated, too scared to react, then released her grip on the console and wrapped her hands around Doc’s arm.

  Another massive surge occurred, and the vortex’s size increased again, along with a similar increase in the flow of the wind, which yanked the hose out of Kim’s and Bernard’s hands. Jason gasped as he watched the airflow suck his mother toward the portal. Doc still held on but was dragged along behind her. His scream of “No!” could be heard even over the roar. A second later, the hose grew taut again as it reached its full length. His mother was on the opposite side of the vortex, her legs dangling in the air as the wind tried to yank her away. She still held onto Doc’s arm, which extended through the vortex up to his upper arm, the rest of him still on their side.

  Doc yelled, “Pull me back!”

  Bracing his feet against the wall, Kim yanked on the hose. It wouldn’t move. Bernard joined him. They two pulled with all their might. Finally, the hose moved back a foot.

  In the decelerator room, Doc screamed. As his arm emerged from the portal, the exposed skin blackened and exploded into a cloud of ash, severing it above the elbow. With nothing left to anchor Lisa in this world, she was sucked into the other realm, still clutching Doc’s severed arm. She landed alongside Nancy and Andre.

  Jason rushed to the door. Kim noticed him at the last second. Dropping his end of the hose, Kim wrapped his arms around Jason.

  “You can’t go in there. You’ll be sucked in, too.”

  “I have to save my mother.”

  “It’s too late for that.”

  As Jason struggled to break free, the wind died out. The swirling papers floated to the ground, and the hose went slack. Doc dropped to the floor, crying and writhing around in pain. An eerie calm settled over the facility. Bernard took advantage of the lull to race into the containment room and help Doc to his feet. Despite Doc’s arm being severed above the elbow, it didn’t bleed. In fact, the end appeared cauterized.

  “Jason! Stay there!” The voice belonged to his mother, although it sounded muffled and far away. He turned to the portal. He could see her on the other side. She had helped Nancy to her feet and, as the young woman stumbled toward the portal, bent over to assist Andre. After a second, his mother lowered her head, closed Andre’s eyelids, and set off after her colleague.

  Jason moved toward the portal. “Hurry up!”

  “Send them back,” huffed Doc as he leaned against the doorway.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They’ll never make it through.”

  “Of course they will. The wind has died down.”

  “No.” Doc held up the remains of his left arm. “They won’t.”

  Realizing the danger his mother and the other scientists faced, Jason stood in front of the portal, waving his hands and yelling for them to stay back. Neither woman listened. Nancy reached the portal first and jumped through. Her body crumbled as it passed through into their side, becoming an ashen silhouette that fell to the cement and erupted into a cloud, showering Jason in dust. On the other side, Jason’s mother stopped short of the vortex. Her gaze scanned the circumference as if trying to find a way to cross back. Jason knew there was no way for her to do so and survive.

  An inhuman moan sounded from behind her. Their eyes both focused on the silhouettes that had been in the background, only now much closer and more threatening. When his mother turned back to him, a single tear streamed down her cheek.

  “Jason, get out of here while you can.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Her voice became calm and soothing. “There’s nothing you can do for me now. I’ll be fine. I promise to find a way out of here. I need to make sure you get to safety. I love you.”

  Without waiting for his response, she ran out of his line of sight, away from the approaching figures. Jason went after her. If he couldn’t get his mother out through the portal, the least he could do is join her in the other realm and protect her. A hand clutched his arm. He spun around to see Kim holding him.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Don’t be an ass. You’ll only get yourse—”

  The wind picked up again, only, this time, it blew from the portal into the facility. It increased in intensity, pushing the loose papers across the floor of the decelerator room. Jason couldn’t hear the gusts because the sound was drowned out by the moaning that came from the dozens of silhouettes on the other side. Jason could finally make them out. They reminded him of walking corpses, naked and emaciated, and with pale leathery skin. They were within a few yards of the portal.

  Doc stepped over to Jason, standing between the teenager and the vortex. “We have to get going.”

  “Wh-what about…?”

  “You can’t help your mother if you’re dead.” Doc reached out his remaining hand and placed it on Jason’s shoulder. “We’ll figure a way to rescue her, but we have to get out of here first.”

  They darted into the control room. Before Jason exited into the corridor, he stopped, hoping to catch a glimpse of his mother. The portal’s façade vibrated, causing a shimmering effect.

  “Hey, you should see this. Something weird is happening.”

  “Come on!” yelled Doc.

  Jason had started down the corridor when a massive pulse exploded from the portal. It shot through the building, knocking over everyone in its path. Jason sat up, dazed and unable to see a thing. He thought maybe he had gone blind in the blast until Bernard flicked on a lighter, allowing them to see. They would need it because moaning emanated from the control room. Doc and the others got up and ran, with Jason right behind them.

  For the first time in his life, he thought he might not live through the next few minutes.

  It would not be the last time he felt that way.

  Chapter Six

  Sasha stood along the right side of the conference table with Andre and Haneef on her left and Gruber on the right. On the opposite side, Doc shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Father Chirac glanced over at Doc’s fidgeting; the usual displeasure spread across the cleric’s puffy face. Jacques had not yet arrived, which didn’t surprise Sasha. Keep everyone waiting so he could make a grand entrance and remind the others who was in charge. Even after the world had come to an end, some people still needed to display their status and show off their rank in the social order. Sasha wondered if others noticed that Jacques made the political members of the group stand along one side of the table and the military along the other as if separating them by caste. The important and the unimportant. Those who gave orders and those who carried them out.

  Those who were not expendable and those who were.

  Sasha crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, drawing glances from the others, who then averted their gaze. In all honesty, Sasha didn’t blame Jacques for categorizing people the way he did. There were only a few at Mont St. Michel who possessed the skills to keep the survivors alive, Doc being one of them. Almost everyone at the sanctuary was college students, sales clerks, lawyers, businessmen, and a whole host of other careers whose occupations, like so many other things, had been swallowed up by the Hell Gate. Most ended up doing menial tasks around the city, like tending the stables or growing crops. Those who were capable and foolhardy enough to fight th
e Hell Spawn were allowed to join the protective force Jacques had created to defend the city, with the most qualified being assigned to the three search and destroy teams. Youth, strength and courage were the only things the military members brought to the table.

  She glanced over at the others. Andre was the overall commander as well as one of the team leaders. He stood six-feet-one-inch in height and barely weighed one hundred fifty pounds, giving him a lanky appearance. He cropped his blonde hair into a buzz cut, and he bore a scar on his right cheek from a knife fight in the streets of Moscow. Sasha thought he was in his early twenties, although Andre never said. A Russian Jew from Siberia, he had moved to Moscow at sixteen to make a living. With no education or skills, he soon found himself enmeshed in the organized crime that had taken over the city following the collapse of the Soviet Union. Andre and his best friend, Slava, had run a drug and prostitution ring until they crossed paths with the local crime lord who had ordered their execution. They emigrated to Chartres where they had hoped to re-establish their criminal empire. The opening of the Hell Gate had put an end to that plan. Andre’s behavior hadn’t changed much at Mont St. Michel. He bullied everyone under him, especially Jason. However, he knew how to organize a fighting force and had proven himself fearless in combat, so Jacques had placed him in charge of the search and destroy teams. Behind the Russian’s back, Jacques referred to Andre as “a necessary evil.”

  Haneef, the other team leader, was Andre’s polar opposite. He stood five-feet-seven-inches and possessed a quiet, personable demeanor. A devout Muslim from Sudan, he had shunned the Jihadist movement that plagued his country and gone to Paris to study international law. He had been in his third semester of college when the apocalypse began. Despite everything, Haneef never lost his faith and still prayed to Mecca whenever possible, although he did shave his head and forewent facial hair to show his disdain for Islamic fundamentalism. He had once told Sasha that the Hell Gate was Allah’s punishment for the extremism that had taken hold of the three main religions–Islam, Christianity, and Judaism and that he felt lucky to be among the righteous who had survived.

  Sasha studied Gruber, realizing only then that she didn’t know anything about him other than he was a German student from Bonn who had graduated from college and been taking some time off to explore southern France when the world came to an end. His team usually stayed behind to defend Mont St. Michel when the others went out scouting, so he readily volunteered for the reconnaissance mission to Geneva. Less than half his team had returned. She remembered Gruber as being an optimistic and outgoing guy and wondered what had happened to make him so sullen.

  Her own story had not been that much different. After graduating from Salem State University with a degree in elementary education, she had decided to join her boyfriend, Norman, on a six-week tour of Europe. The romantic vacation ended prematurely in Florence when Norman dumped her for some Italian whore he had met in a nightclub. Angry and heartbroken, she had decided to fly home and had been waiting for her connecting flight at Leonardo da Vinci International Airport when the Hell Gate opened. Following the flood of panicked refugees away from Rome, she made her way to Mont St. Michel and eventually had become the leader of one of the search and destroy teams.

  The door to the private quarters swung open, and Jacques entered accompanied by Bishop Fiorello, the religious leader of the city. All eyes focused on the two men. To Sasha, it seemed as though central casting had put out a call for someone to play the lord and bishop of the manor. Jacques appeared older than his sixty-plus years, mostly because of the burdens of trying to keep Mont St. Michel safe. His long, unkempt hair had turned white over the past few months. Wrinkles creased Jacques’ face, and dark circles shadowed his eyes, and he walked with a slight hunch. However, on seeing his trusted companions, the barest hint of a smile pierced his lips. Bishop Fiorello, on the other hand, bore the perpetual stern visage he always wore around the city, part of his “God is punishing us for our sins” demeanor. It did not help that in a city where the food supply neared starvation levels, his paunch strained against the fabric of his cleric uniform.

  “Thank you all for coming at this late hour.” Jacques stood at the head of the table, with Bishop Fiorello behind and to his left. “Gruber, we’ll start with you. What did you find in Geneva?”

  The German stood up straight and took a deep breath. “We made it to CERN without incident. We encountered only a few Hell Spawn, all of them Nachzehrer that had wandered down from the north. There were none at the facility, so gaining access was easy.”

  “How bad was the damage?” asked Jacques.

  “It was confined to the control and decelerator rooms. The portal was just as Doc described it. Thirty feet in diameter with a pulsating surface, like water on a pond.”

  “So you were right,” Jacques said to Doc. “It stopped growing.”

  Doc shrugged. “That’s one thing in our favor.”

  Jacques turned his attention back to Gruber. “If there were no Hell Spawn at the facility, what happened to your team?”

  “We didn’t see anything moving on the other side of the gate, so Hans, Greta, Francois, Andrea, and Robert crossed over—”

  “Damn it!” Doc pounded his fist on the table. “I warned you not to do that.”

  “They wanted to see if they could locate Dr. McCreary,” Gruber yelled back. His anger subsided as quickly as it had flared, and the sullenness resumed. “When they tried to come back they… they…”

  “Disintegrated?” asked Doc.

  Gruber nodded. Doc involuntary reached up to massage his missing arm.

  “I’m sorry,” Doc said softly.

  “I am, too. I should never have let them go.”

  Father Chirac crossed himself. “At least they’re with God now.”

  Or stuck in Hell, thought Sasha.

  Jacques ignored the priest and glanced at Doc. “So your theory about the gate being a one-way portal was correct.”

  Doc nodded. “Sadly we lost five good people proving it.”

  “What theory?” Gruber asked.

  “It’s why I warned you not to send anyone over to the other side. It came to me when I saw the technician who had been sucked through try to escape back into the facility, and when I lost my arm. The Hell Gate is a one-way portal. It allows you to cross into the other realm, but won’t let anything come out.”

  Gruber bristled. “You could have been a bit more specific! I wouldn’t have allowed my people to cross over if you had warned me that could happen!”

  “Enough,” Jacques said in a soft manner, like a father admonishing his children. “Doc feels your loss as much as I do—”

  “And me,” interrupted Fiorello.

  Jacques ignored the bishop. “Thank you, Gruber, for all you’ve done and for the sacrifice you made. You’re excused.”

  Gruber stared at the three men for a moment, anger flaring in his eyes, and then exited the conference room. Jacques waited until the German had departed and continued his conversation with Doc.

  “If your theory about the Geneva gate being a one-way portal is correct, that leaves only one possible answer as to where the Hell Spawn are coming from.”

  “I’m afraid so,” replied Doc. “There has to be a second gate allowing these things into our world.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sasha looked between Doc and Jacques, uncertain if she had heard correctly. “What do you mean by ‘a second gate’?”

  “Let me explain.” Doc walked over to Jacques’ desk and removed a letter opener and a plastic gallon-sized bottle of water. He grabbed a wastebasket off the floor and brought the three items back to the conference table. Placing the basket on the surface, he asked Haneef to hold the plastic bottle above it. “Hell is a self-contained realm separate from our world. Under normal circumstances, there is no connection between the two. Now, think of this bottle as Hell and the area outside of it as our world.”

  Using the letter opener, Doc punctured t
he top of the bottle near the neck and held the letter opener in place. “This is the gate we punched open in Geneva, the entry gate.”

  Sasha nodded. “Okay.”

  Doc shoved the letter opener deeper into the bottle until the tip poked through the bottom. When he withdrew it, water flowed from the hole. “Our antimatter experiment also punched an exit portal from Hell somewhere into our world. That’s where the Hell Spawn are coming from.”

  “It makes sense,” said Jacques.

  “Where is the exit portal?” asked Sasha.

  “I can’t be certain,” Doc answered as Haneef put the leaking bottle of water into the wastebasket and placed them both on the floor. “Normal geometrical equations are useless in a situation like this.”

  “In English, Doc,” said Andre.

  “There’s no scientific way to determine it. My best approximation is somewhere in Paris.”

  “Why Paris?” asked Sasha.

  “Based on the eyewitness accounts of the few survivors who were in Paris at the time, and based on the migration pattern of the Hell Spawn that we’ve tracked over the past several months, I’m speculating that the exit portal is located somewhere in the downtown area. I don’t know exactly where, and anyone who saw the gate open probably didn’t make it out alive.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Jacques. “It should be easy enough to find.”

  “What are you going to do once you find it?” asked Haneef.

  “Close it.”

  A moment of awkward silence passed before Sasha asked, “How?”

  “With the bomb Doc has made.”

  All three team leaders stared at Doc.

  “It’s not actually a bomb,” he explained. “The device contains antimatter. When it hits the portal it will disintegrate, releasing the antimatter contents. Once the antimatter inside the device connects with the antimatter portal, they should cancel each other out and blast the portal shut.”