by Michael Todd
War of the Damned Boxed Set
War of the Damned Boxed Set (Books 1-8)
Michael Todd
Michael Anderle
Laurie Starkey
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018-2019 Michael Todd, Michael Anderle,
Laurie Starkey
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, October 2019
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64202-532-3
Contents
Resurrection of the Damned
No Quarter
Dark Is The Night
Dim Glows The Horizon
Waking The Leviathan
Subversive Giants
Juntto
Redemption
Resurrection of the Damned
War of the Damned Book One
Chapter One
The cars sped by, throwing the rainwater up from the gutters outside Ducali Pizzeria and Bar on Union Street in Boston’s North End.
The section of Boston known as Little Italy was a huge draw with tourists with its wide variety of eateries, bars, and shops, and Ducali’s was a local favorite. The pizzeria and the North End usually teemed with people enjoying life, but the vibrant sector had become considerably quieter since Incursion Day.
People stayed inside after dark. They locked their doors, closed their blinds and hid from the newest threat to their existence—demons.
There were, nevertheless, still a few stubborn Bostonians who continued about their daily lives, doing the same old things they had always done, their fathers had done, and generations before them had done. Boston had seen its fair share of dark times throughout America’s turbulent history, which was part of the reason Bostonians prided themselves on having such thick skins.
And sometimes thick skulls.
Inside Ducali’s there were more than a few of these thick-headed Bostonians. They gathered to eat and watch the game—just a bunch of decent, hardworking guys there to grab a slice and a beer with their buddies at the end of a long day of construction work.
“No, no, nooo,” one guy shouted at the television. “That was a fuckin’ foul. What the fuck? The Celtics are gonna go to their fuckin’ graves never catchin’ a damn break.”
The bartender wiped the bar and smiled. “Aw, Jimmy, now when has anyone in Boston ever gotten a break?”
Jimmy looked at her and turned on the charm. “You could give me a break by lettin’ me take you out Sunday night. C’mon, darlin’. I know you ain’t gotta work.”
She flicked her cloth at him. “Come on now, you know I got that church event with Ma. Who says you better get your ass to church before God smites you, by the way.”
Jimmy threw his head back and laughed, then waved a hand at the screen as he took a drink of his beer. “He already has, sweetheart. Look at my boys there. It’s rotten, just fuckin’ rotten.”
A collective cheer brought their attention to a group of guys with dirt-covered hands and muddy boots walking through the door. Three of them broke off and came over to the bar, nodding at Sally as they took the stools around Jimmy.
“Jimmy! What’s the story? The Celtics gonna kick the Cavaliers’ asses or what?”
“It’s close, my friend. Close but you know how our luck goes. We’ll have a wicked drive the first half and then lose our shit at the end.”
The halftime buzzer rang and the bartender handed out the beers she’d poured as the waitstaff came out from the kitchen bearing their pizza orders.
Sally muted the television to avoid the noise of the halftime show, leaving just the one over the bar on low. The guys milled around, talking about the day’s work and whose family was getting together for church on Sunday.
It was a normal night at Ducali’s. However, it wasn’t a normal night for the country or even the world. People were still reeling from the realization that there was a hell, and that the demons weren’t playing around anymore.
Sally wiped her hands and leaned back against the counter, shaking her head at her phone. “Another demon found right here in Boston. Fucker had three hostages and parts of people stashed in his fridge. It’s like we’re livin’ in a fuckin’ nightmare.”
“I’d like to come across one of those red-eyed bastards,” Jimmy grumbled.
“Yeah?” his buddy joked. “You gonna talk em’ to death about the inadequacies of basketball referees?”
“Ha-ha, very funny. No, I’d take a fuckin’ shovel to the bastard’s head.”
Another of the guys leaned forward with a smirk on his face. “Then your Pa would hit ya over the head for usin’ his shovel and for wearin’ those Bobos around like a fuckin’ fairy.”
Jimmy looked down at his Sperrys and shrugged. “Say what you like, asshole. They fuckin’ fit and I don’t gotta buy new shoes. My aunt got ‘em for me for Christmas.”
The news came on with a special report and everyone stopped talking and twisted around in their chairs as Sally turned up the volume so they could all hear. The news broadcast’s familiar intro blared as the station’s logo with the words ‘Breaking News’ superimposed over it filled the screen.
“We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this breaking news on the latest incursion battle, which is occurring as we speak in Phoenix, Arizona. Our sources tell us that dozens of demons are ravaging the suburb of Paradise Valley, an affluent area with a population nearing fifteen thousand. Both government and mercenary teams are on the ground, and so far we have reports of at least thirteen casualties, although we know from past incursions that this number is subject to change.”
The news anchor’s face slipped for a second and disapproval flashed across her features before she resumed her dispassionate recounting of the story.
“The mercenary teams working these incursions have become a topic of controversy since Incursion Day just three short months ago. With a few notable exceptions, they are rarely shown on camera and not much is publicly known about them. It is believed that these soldiers themselves are infected.”
One of the guys waved his hand at the television and turned back to the bar. “That shit always happens out west. You never see some stupid fuckin’ demon rollin’ up in Southie or Little Italy.”
Jimmy laughed. “Damn straight. They know it’s worse than hell here.”
The news reporter continued, “While we wait for further information, let’s recap the events of the last three months. While the government was well aware of the threat, for most Americans the revelation came just three months ago tomorrow when this sleepy little Wyoming town literally found itself in the center of hell on Earth.”
Video footage of the incursion ran across the screen, ending on a freeze-frame of T’Chezz’ head lying in the grass.
“There was silence from the Capitol for days after the incursion. Survivors of that day-long standoff were ushered to milit
ary facilities, where they were treated for shock and given whatever other medical treatment was necessary. In the meantime, the Capitol became a ghost town. America held its breath and waited for light to be shed on the events, and shortly after day four post-incursion the President finally made this statement.”
The screen flashed to the President sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office.
“Fellow Americans and people across the world, it is with great sadness that I address you this evening. You are all aware that an unprecedented attack has occurred on US soil, and I apologize for the delay in communication between the government and the people while our advisors and heads of state were brought up to date on this situation. I am here to rectify that.
“Creatures not of this world invaded a small town in Wyoming, leaving hundreds dead. By deploying a combination of specialized military units and specially trained civilian teams we were able to stamp out the threat, but unfortunately, we don’t believe this is the end. There have been smaller incursions all over the country. All over the world, for that matter. Therefore, until we are able to get this under control, we ask that every American take precautions when traveling and make sure to go to our Federal Defense website for a list of telltale signs that you are facing a non-human counterpart. The site will also give you survival tips if you are caught in an incursion like the one we just faced...”
Jimmy shook his head and turned his attention to the game on the other tv. “Shit just gets worse every day. Now we got demons runnin’ all over the fuckin’ place.”
“Yeah, but at least we got hot chicks kickin’ their asses. Did you see the super-fuckin’-hot leader of Katie’s Killers? Those fuckin’ curves, I’d let her exorcise my demons.”
Sally threw her cloth at that guy. She shook her head. “Fuckin’ pig.”
“What? I... Fuck, another three-pointer. The Cavaliers are kickin’ us all over the court with those three-pointers.”
The newscaster came back on the screen. “Since the President’s speech, the country has been on high alert. We have seen a dozen large incursions and a few smaller. On a positive note, the majority of riots and acts of vandalism have settled down in cities and towns across the world, though there are still reports of looting in sections of New York, London, and some Middle Eastern cities.”
“I ran into some of those crazy protesters on my way to work that first month.” Jimmy sighed. “They were nuts.”
“Had a few in here but they were causin’ problems with their conspiracy theories, so we threw ‘em out,” the bartender confided.
A picture of a crowded church in Chicago came up on the side of the screen.
“Since Incursion Day and the use of the term ‘demon’ to describe the creatures, there has been a two hundred and twenty-percent increase in attendance at local and national churches. Crosses have been erected throughout the West to pay tribute to the fallen soldiers and victims of the Incursion. Meanwhile, Attorney Generals across seven states are blocking attempts by the ‘Church of the Benevolent Alien Overlords’ to file for a 501-C Tax-free status. Members of the church have been linked to several false-flag events across the country, which have diverted vital resources from real incursions. Allen Avers, the Texas Attorney General had his own words for the group.”
Avers came on the screen. He stood at a podium with the hot Texas sun shining down on him, surrounded by reporters. He scoffed angrily at the BAO church members waving their placards on the sidelines.
“501-C was created to provide charitable religious institutions the opportunity to make a go of things financially. It was not created to foster the hatred these aliens have brought to our great country. The members of the Church of the Benevolent Alien Overlords are nothing more than, and you can quote me, fucking idiots for wanting to follow demons.”
The news station bleeped ‘fucking’ but everyone knew exactly what he had said. The video ended and the broadcast switched back to the newscaster as the BAO members booed the senator.
“In an attempt to rally more followers, the head of the church met with reporters shortly after. This is what they had to say.”
“We have not been involved in any false-flag events, no matter what the government wants to pin on us. We believe these creatures are misunderstood, and instead of blowing their heads off we should be looking for a way to peacefully reach an agreement. They are superior beings, no matter what we humans wish to argue. They could, and likely will, be the new masters of this planet, and you’ll have to decide whose side you want to be on when they take over. We believe that, together with our alien overlords, we can make this planet a much fuller and richer place.”
“Turn that shit off,” a couple of guys yelled.
The bartender hit the mute button and leaned against the counter. “I think that with the mercenaries, no matter if they are demonized or not, we stand a fightin’ chance against these bastards.”
“You’ll still go to church and pray for salvation, though.” Jimmy laughed.
“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t wanna be there for the downfall if we fuck it up.”
The guy next to them leaned forward. “I read an article that said we’ve been fightin’ these demons for a wicked long time, but they kept it under lock and key so us Average Joes didn’t panic. Apparently, there’s a whole section of the government for it and mercenaries all over the country. They tame their demons and use their powers to fight back. Makes ‘em stronger and more powerful. The report even said there’s a special weapon they got that can take the bastards down so the mercs can finish ‘em off.”
“You need to put down the Enquirer.” Jimmy chuckled and swigged his beer.
“It wasn’t that, it was like BBC or some shit.”
Sally took a deep breath and put a bottle of beer in front of the guy. “All I know is, whatever’s poppin’ out there, I don’t wanna be no part of it.”
General Brushwood tapped his fingers on the long mahogany table at the front of the conference room. Since he had leaked the secret about the demons to the public he had been inundated by meetings with his counterparts from all over the world.
They looked to him for answers about where this war was going.
The screens in front of him began to light up with the faces of the other leaders, some cool and collected, the others obviously shaken by the latest incursion in Phoenix.
Brushwood prepared himself to put on the face of a man who had everything under control. He had at least faced these demons head-on, something none of the others had done or would do in the future—he hoped. His superiors had supported his decision to stay off the front lines, especially once it went public. However, his military branch was still a rumor. Nothing had been confirmed, and most people laughed it off as some sort of conspiracy.
Brushwood thought they would be wise to keep the public out of their business.
When all the leaders had checked in and quieted down, Brushwood sat forward and cleared his throat. He wanted the meeting to be over and done with quickly, but he figured he would end up fielding the same questions about the mercenaries that he had since Incursion Day. They were curious, which was only natural.
What Brushwood worried most about was that some were fearful of the hunters.
“Thank you all for joining me on such short notice. I know everyone has questions, but let’s get through the Phoenix briefing first and then we can go from there.”
No one said a word, just stared at Brushwood. “So, an incursion occurred in Paradise Valley, Arizona. We have confirmation that thirteen civilians were killed, eighteen demons vanquished, and three servicemen injured, although all are expected to recover. This incursion is a hot topic because, as you know, we are one day away from the three-month anniversary of Incursion Day. That being said, we have no credible information that would lead us to think that the same demon who was behind the Phoenix Incursion was behind Incursion Day, at least not at this time.”
One older man with grey-and-black-peppered hair spoke
up. “I’m not really sure if it matters who is behind it. If this is the hell we are all familiar with, all fire and brimstone, then we should have a pretty good idea who is at the center of it all already.”
“None of the insider information that has been gathered over the last two years names Lucifer as a participant in any of the battles. From what we know, he hasn’t even made contact with our head guy.”
“You mean the one whose head was chopped off? How could he continue to be a part of this?” someone shouted.
General Brushwood sighed and closed his notes. “We have been over this before. T’Chezz was not acting alone. He had accomplices, including a much higher-ranking demon named Moloch. Moloch was the one opening the portals, but he was not physically part of Incursion Day. He sent his band of mercenaries—'the Enlightened,’ or so they called themselves.”
The head of the London-based terrorism sector spoke. “General, where exactly are you getting this ‘inside information?’ You told us we have not yet found a way to enter hell.”
“We have our sources.”
“You mean the mercenaries?”
“They are definitely part of this, yes.”
Another man spoke, leaning back as he buttoned his jacket. He was a snide self-serving smart-ass and had zero tactical skill or military experience to base his stances on. He was one of many Brushwood couldn’t stand.
“What the general is not saying,—but we all know to be true—is that the majority of the information comes from the mercenary they call Katie, who sometimes goes by the name Pandora. Her demon is incredibly strong and powerful, and she is the one who took T’Chezz down in that little town. I saw the special video footage provided this group. We all did.”