Hell Gate

by Josh Matthews

  Positive way to start a mission, he chastised himself. Jason tried to push that thought from his mind, although the prospect of death weighed heavily on him. Not that they hadn’t placed themselves in harm’s way before. For the three search and destroy teams, it had become a weekly occurrence. Yet those were calculated risks, carefully prepared missions undertaken in terrain they were familiar with that probed the countryside looking for and eliminating demons. This trip to Paris was insanity. Jacques was sending them into the heart of a major city, more than likely overrun with Hell Spawn, to close the portal despite not knowing its location or whether Doc’s device would actually work. A shiver ran down Jason’s spine at the prospect of what they would face. Drawing in a deep breath, Jason held it until he tamped down his fear. He had to make sure this mission succeeded no matter what the cost. He had to close the portal to rectify his mother’s mistake and to clear her name as well as the family name. That’s what a dutiful son would do. That’s what a man would do.

  A gust of wind blew several strands of blonde hair across his face. Jason pushed them back behind his ears. He examined each of his teammates, wondering who would survive the next few days.

  In addition to himself and Slava, Andre’s team consisted of some of the toughest men in the city. David had been a security guard at CERN who had escaped with Jason and Doc and stayed with them all the way to Mont St. Michel, protecting them until they made it to safety. David had maneuvered his horse to be beside Jason as he had done on every previous mission. On the other side was Antoine, from Morocco. He towered over Jason, standing at six-foot-four and weighing in at close to two hundred and fifty pounds. Though quiet and unassuming, in combat Antoine was a fierce and violent fighter. Only Sook-kyoung, the exchange student from the University of Seoul, seemed out of place. Tall, slender, attractive, and quiet, no one had assessed her as much of a fighter. However, her black belt in Taekwondo made her as tough as the others. Usually, Sook-kyoung let her brunette hair hang loosely around her shoulders, only tying it in a ponytail when she expected to go into combat. He noticed this morning that it hung in a single tight strand down her back. Doc and Neal rounded out their team, the former carrying a large saddlebag containing the device.

  Haneef’s team stood next in line. Franco sat off to Haneef’s right. With the exception of Doc, Franco held the distinction as the oldest member of the group at thirty. He had olive-colored skin, dark hair, and a weathered visage. Because Franco had once been a sergeant in the Spanish army, making him the most skilled soldier at Mont St. Michel, Jacques had asked him to train the three search and destroy teams in combat tactics. He did this with all the sadism of a Hollywood drill instructor, and with a vocabulary that would have made the sergeant from Full Metal Jacket cringe. Although no one liked Franco, they all knew that they were alive today thanks to him, and thus he had earned their begrudging respect. Ray came from Texas. Short and muscular, he talked with a thick southern accent. Jacques had included him in the team because of his military training. Ray and Franco each carried one of Haneef’s spare ammunition backpacks. Petra had been an Italian flight attendant who fit the part, a tall woman with short blonde hair pinned back with bobby pins. She was willing to defend the city, and as a flight attendant had been trained to calmly respond to crises, earning her a spot on the team. Renato had been touring western France and had been unable to make it back to his hometown of Florence, eventually making his way to Mont St. Michel. Short and stout, he didn’t know any English, which didn’t matter since Haneef considered him one of his toughest fighters. Philippe rounded out the group. Only a few months older than Jason, Philippe was a native of Mont St. Michel and had volunteered to defend his city. Jacques agreed because he thought it appeared appropriate.

  Sasha’s team brought up the rear. Three American college students who called themselves the Gainesville Mafia, because they all came from the University of Florida, dominated the team. Shane, the older of the trio, was a mid-Westerner of average height and build. Bill had been an amateur boxer from Key West, and still maintained the muscular body and close-cropped black hair. Josh was a stocky Georgian five-foot-six in height and with a boisterous personality that more than compensated for his short stature. Shane and Josh carried Sasha’s extra ammunition backpacks. Bald and lanky, Reinhard was the polar opposite of the three Americans. The German never smiled and rarely spoke, and when he did he used short curt sentences. Christophe rounded out their team. He had been an Austrian student, tall and thin, with wavy blonde hair and a pair of glasses that constantly slid down his nose. Sasha rode at the end of the group. She looked like one of those warrior princesses in the comic books that Jason used to fantasize about. She wore the same green flight suit they all did, although Sasha filled it out much better than even Petra and Sook-kyoung. The minigun rested in a special mount strapped to her right leg. Her auburn hair cascaded across her shoulders and down her chest.

  When Sasha saw Jason staring at her, she smiled. His body tensed. Damn it, Sasha didn’t have the right to be angry at him on a whim and then expect to be forgiven so easily, especially after the way she had insulted him in front of everyone. Jason had good reason to be mad at Sasha and was not ready to accept her apology yet. He turned away.

  The head guard for the outer wall defenses walked up to Andre. “Are you ready?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  The guard strolled to the opening that led to the bay. He grabbed a pole-mounted lantern, stood at the end of the walkway, and waved it back and forth. Jason pictured his counterpart on the opposite coast responding in kind. After a few seconds, the guard placed the lantern against the wall and waved on the teams. Andre spurred his horse forward. One by one, the others fell in line. As each passed, the guards on duty gave them thumbs up or wished them luck. The head guard shouted, “May God be with you.”

  The group left Mont St. Michel and crossed the bay in single file, with twenty feet between each horse. Everyone remained on edge, half expecting to see a swarm of soul vampires or other Hell Spawn charging at them from out of the darkness. Lucifer and Lilith stayed on either side of Jason, their attention focused on potential danger. Soon they made landfall and navigated up the remains of the destroyed causeway, the horses moving more assuredly once on dry land.

  A throng of refugees had gathered along the side of the road to see them off, though no one showed enthusiasm. Maybe they realized that the city’s sole defenders were going off on a suicide mission. If they had any idea what the teams were about to face, though, none of them showed it. They all stared at the group with the same hollow, blank expression that had become the norm. Only a little girl about six years old with curly blonde hair and a tattered dress offered any emotion, waving to the teams as they passed. Jason waved back. He wondered what type of world they’d be leaving her once they completed this mission.

  Andre followed the road to the left and headed away from the camp. The others followed. Jason looked back at Mont St. Michel before he entered the tree line, knowing he might never see that monstrosity of a city again.

  Off to the east, the first rays of dawn tinted the clouds a beautiful shade of reddish-orange.

  Book Two

  Chapter Ten

  No one spoke for the first few hours of the journey, which suited Jason. He enjoyed the serenity, which allowed him to be alone with his thoughts. The morning was pleasant, with a warm sun complementing a cool breeze blowing in from the English Channel. The clopping of the horses’ hoofs on asphalt competed with the chirping from flocks of birds that nestled among the trees. As they approached the village of Montitier, the horses startled a family of deer grazing by the roadside. Each one bolted and made a mad dash across the field, eventually disappearing into the high grass. Jason grinned. With humans having been almost completely wiped out, wildlife now began to flourish and repopulate the countryside.

  Of course, that would all change when the Hell Spawn finally made their way into this area.

  The route tha
t took them into central France was all too familiar. Andre had designed it to avoid large towns and major highways, both of which offered too many opportunities to be ambushed. South of Bas Courtils, the group got onto Rue de Mont St. Michel and followed it west to Le Pommeray where they picked up the D113. They passed north of Pontaubault and, shortly after, crossed underneath the A84. Normally, at this point, they would head northwest for the Normandy coast via Avranches. This time, they headed northeast, winding along back roads until they reached Ger approximately thirty miles away. Ten miles beyond that sat the town of Flers, their first scheduled stop.

  Jason sat upright in his saddle and began to be more attune to his surroundings. Most of the others did the same. Lucifer and Lilith sensed the tension and moved in closer to Jason. This was unchartered territory for all of them. Jacques had limited their previous search and destroy missions to the coastal region, reasoning that any Hell Spawn that entered the area would follow the contour of the land. No one had ventured this far out in over six months. Occasionally, the group passed an abandoned vehicle that had died when the EMP hit, yet they never saw any signs of the former owners. At one point, they came upon a tour bus sitting on the shoulder. The main door was open, although it didn’t seem as though the occupants left in a hurry. Jason wondered what happened to those who had been stuck out here in the middle of nowhere.

  They entered the southwest outskirts of Ger when Andre raised his palm in the air for the others to halt, and then swiped his hand across his neck several times, gesturing for everyone to remain quiet. The reason for the sudden stop became apparent when the wind shifted, blowing the sickeningly sweet odor of rotting flesh in their direction.

  Nachzehrer.

  Andre came back to the others. He spoke so softly they could barely hear him. “There’s trouble ahead. I can smell them from here.”

  “How many are there?” asked Slava.

  “I have no idea. Judging by how strong the stench is, I’m guessing there’s a lot of them.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “I want to check it out. Slava, take the others and fall back about a mile and wait for me. If I’m not back in half an hour, circle around south of town and head for Flers. If I don’t catch up to you in two hours, take command and continue without me.”

  Slava’s eyes widened. “What about you?”

  Andre forced a grin. “If I don’t catch up to you in two hours, it’s because I’m dead. Now move before those things see us. Have Sasha join us.”

  “Dah.”

  “Bait, you’re with me.”

  “Okay.”

  The Russian motioned toward Lilith and Lucifer. “Leave them here.”

  Jason ordered the two werehounds to go with Doc. Lucifer stared at him with his brown eyes and whined, yet both animals did as they were told. Jason set off after Andre.

  Sasha rode up a minute later. Her features were hardened into a grim determination, what she referred to as her battle face.

  “Slava says there’s a swarm of Nachzehrer up ahead,” she whispered.

  “I don’t know how many. That’s why I want to check it out.”

  “You’re not planning on engaging them, I hope.”

  Andre shook his head. “I want to get an idea of how many there are and in which direction they’re heading. I don’t want to be camping out with a swarm of those things roaming the countryside. At the first sign of trouble, we’ll fall back with the others.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Andre brought his horse around and sidestepped up to Jason. “Bait, you sense anything?”

  Jason closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt the presence of Nachzehrer not too far from here, but they already knew that much. There were too many auras, all of them blending until they overwhelmed his senses. He cleared his mind of all thoughts, yet he still could not get an accurate picture of where the Hell Spawn were or how many they numbered. Finally, he opened his eyes and sighed.

  “I can’t get a thing. Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. If you get a sixth sense that we’re about to be attacked, don’t even bother telling me. Haul ass out of here. We’ll be right behind you.”

  With that, the three headed toward the center of Ger.

  Chapter Eleven

  The three rode into town at a slow, steady pace to maintain their stealth. Andre took the lead. Sasha stayed to his left and Jason to his right, each three horse lengths behind. Jason kept a cautious eye on his surroundings, searching for any movement in the shadows that might forewarn of danger. He divided his concentration between scouting the area and listening to his sixth sense that would hopefully warn of an impending attack. Sasha had removed the minigun from her leg mount and clutched it in her right hand. Her left hand still held the bridle, although she would be ready to fire her weapon in less than a second if need be.

  At the juncture with the first road they came upon, which was on the left and two hundred feet from the center of town, Andre paused and raised the binoculars to his eyes. Jason watched as the Russian’s features tightened. Andre handed the binoculars to Jason. A large roundabout dominated the main square where all five major roads into town converged. A swarm of Nachzehrer at least a hundred strong filled the roundabout, moving in a slow shamble from north to south. God only knew how many were in this swarm. None of the demons had spotted them yet.

  “Do you notice anything unusual about them?” asked Andre.

  Jason studied the Nachzehrer more closely. The demons swarmed like all the others they had encountered. And they looked the same—emaciated bodies and leathery skin. Half were naked. The other half wore a variety of outfits, though at this distance he couldn’t determine what type of…. Then it hit him.

  “They’re clothed.”

  Andre nodded and removed the map from his jacket pocket. “It’s the first time we’ve run across any of these things with clothes.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, and anything I’d guess would probably be wrong.”

  Sasha moved up between the two. “Is it bad?”

  “It’s about as bad as it gets,” replied Jason.

  “Shit,” said Sasha. “What now?”

  “Wait here for a minute.” Andre pointed on the map to the road on their left. “Bait and I are going to scout down here.”

  “We can’t afford to split up. It’s dangerous.”

  “Relax, girl. I’m only going down to the bend. I want to get an idea of how many there are. If you see any of those things start to head this way, scream your pretty little head off, and we’ll come running.”

  Sasha seethed with anger. If Andre noticed it, he didn’t care. He headed off down the side road. “Come on, Bait.”

  The two traveled to the bend and paused. Andre scanned the area with his binoculars. Jason’s blood ran cold. At the end of the road, a mass of Nachzehrer dragged themselves toward the center of town. They packed the main street for at least a mile, and that was what he could see. He had no idea where this stream of demons began and ended.

  Andre passed him the binoculars. “Want a look?”

  “No. I’ve seen enough.”

  “Then let’s not push our luck any more than we already have.”

  The two made their way back and picked up Sasha, and together the three of them left Ger.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jason inhaled deep, sucking the aroma into his lungs. His mouth salivated. He scooped up a forkful of chicken and scrambled eggs, sighing with delight at the taste. He usually didn’t eat much, but he could not pass up this. It had been months since he had chicken. Considering the way the others around him were wolfing down their dinner, he assumed they were enjoying the meal as much as him.

  It was a pleasant end to an eventful day. After running across the Nachzehrer in Ger, the group had backtracked a few miles before Andre ordered a rapid dash south across the countryside, hoping to cross the road ahead of the swarm. They succeeded without
incident and made it out of the area undetected. Even so, Andre drove on for another few miles, wanting to get as far away from danger as possible. Though no one said it, they all realized how well their luck had held. A few hours later, and the swarm would have blocked them from their destination.

  Then they found the farm. It sat along the side of the road surrounded by fields overgrown with tall grass. There were still a few hours of daylight left. However, the horses had already traveled well over thirty miles since leaving Mont St. Michel and needed to rest, so Andre had ordered everyone to dismount and set up camp. Sook-kyoung and Petra had put the horses in the barn and gave them hay and water from a nearby well while Haneef’s team checked out the farm house. Scouting around out back, the Gainesville Mafia had discovered a fifty-five-gallon drum cut in half to form a makeshift barbecue as well as several dozen chickens milling around the remains of a ramshackle coop. Within an hour, the three Americans had prepared a hot meal. Andre had ordered everyone to eat in shifts, with him, Slava, David, Franco, and Antoine manning the perimeter first while the others ate. The group dined by an old tractor. Lucifer and Lilith spread out near a pile of hay, devouring the whole chickens Josh had cooked for each of them.

  “This is great.” Neal raised his plate. “Much better than what we get back at the Abbey.”

  “Thanks,” said Josh. “It comes from years of tailgating.”

  “Do you guys always eat this well in the field?”

  “Hardly,” Josh snorted. “We usually don’t eat on search and destroy missions.”

  “We usually don’t spend more than one day in the field,” added Shane.

  “On a suicide mission,” chimed in Bill.

  Neal felt guilty for creating the sour mood. He decided to change topics. “How did you all get here?”

  “Jacques ordered it,” Ray said with a smirk. Josh and Shane laughed.