World Killer: A Sci-Fi Action Adventure Novel

by Barry J. Hutchison

  “What if they’ve bugged the phones?” Daryl asked.

  “So what? It’s not like I’m going to give them our address,” Ash said.

  “And even if he wanted to, he doesn’t know what it is,” Riley said. “Just that it might have a six in it.”

  “Hilarious,” said Ash. The legs of his chair scraped on the floor as he shoved it back from the table and stood up. “I’m going to phone home. I need to know my mom’s OK.”

  Daryl and Riley stayed sitting, watching Ash cross to the payphone and pick up the receiver. He studied a list of numbers printed on the front of the phone, then stabbed three digits with his finger. From all the way across the restaurant, Daryl heard the ringing tone, then the click as the operator answered.

  “Hi, yeah, I’d like to place a collect call to the US,” Ash said. He hesitated, then lowered his voice. Daryl still heard every word. “The number? Uh, yeah, it’s 323… Uh. 323… I have it stored in my cell, but… 323-5…”

  Ash tutted. “If I give you the name, can you just find the…? No, in the US.”

  “Think he’s getting through?” asked Riley.

  Daryl shook his head. “No. He doesn’t know the number.” Daryl leaned back and raised his eyes to the ceiling. He might not like Ash, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He just wanted to talk to his mum, and Daryl could fully sympathize with that.

  His eyes stopped on a white security camera that was mounted on the restaurant’s ceiling. It was pointing straight at Ash. Daryl heard the whirr of the lens as it zoomed in.

  He let his gaze creep down to the counter, where the two staff members on duty were washing down the work surfaces. Another camera was fixed to the wall behind them. Like the first, it was locked onto Ash.

  Ash hung up the phone. Daryl watched both cameras follow him as he returned to the table and slumped back onto his chair.

  “Any luck?” Riley asked.

  Ash shook his head. “I gave the name, but we’re not in the phone book, so she couldn’t give me the number.”

  Daryl leaned forward, doing his best not to glance up at the two cameras which were both watching them.

  “We need to leave,” he said. “Right now. Don’t look round.”

  Riley and Ash both immediately looked around. “Or do look round. It doesn’t matter,” Daryl said. “The cameras are watching us.”

  “Do you think they recognize us?” Riley asked.

  “Me, maybe,” said Ash. He shrugged. “So the manager of a burger joint has us on camera. So what?”

  “So we don’t know who is actually watching,” Daryl said. “It might be the manager, but it might be Hath. Or it could be anyone.”

  “Jesus, paranoid much?” said Ash.

  Daryl opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. He tilted his head, listening to something only he could hear.

  “What is it?” Riley asked.

  Daryl stood up sharply. “A helicopter. We should go.”

  Riley slurped the last of the drink down. “Lead the way.”

  They hurried to the door, moving as quickly as they could without running. Daryl heard the cameras turn to follow them.

  “Just keep cool,” he said, as they filed out through the door and stepped onto the empty street.

  “Go left,” Daryl whispered.

  “Why?” asked Ash. “That’s not the way we came.”

  “There’s a man in a doorway back there. Don’t look,” Daryl said, taking a left down the street. “I think he’s watching us.”

  Ash and Riley glanced back. “I can’t see anyone,” Riley said.

  “Neither can I. But I can hear him,” Daryl said.

  “So? He’s probably some homeless dude,” Ash said. “What’s the problem?”

  Daryl ignored him. “We’ll go this way and double back round, then…”

  Up ahead, a shiny black 4x4 turned onto the road and stopped, its headlights aiming right at them. Daryl about-turned.

  “Change of plan. Go this way.”

  They hurried past the McDonald’s and continued down the street. Daryl led them across the road, avoiding the doorway where he could hear the man trying not to breathe. He could still hear the thudding of the helicopter’s rotor blades in the now not-so-distance, and the change in pitch of the 4x4s engine as it began to creep forward.

  “They’re following,” Daryl said, picking up the pace. Riley and Ash hurried to keep up.

  “Is it the PPA?” Ash asked. He flexed his fingers. “Tell me it’s the PPA. I’ve got a score to settle with those guys.”

  “No settling scores,” Daryl hissed. “We can’t afford to get into a fight with them.”

  “We can’t lead them back to the station,” Riley said. “I mean, that would be bad, right?”

  Up ahead, they could see the neon glow of the Piccadilly Circus billboards. Daryl led them toward it. “There were some people there. They won’t try anything with people around.”

  “You hope,” Riley whispered. She looked up, finally hearing the sound of the approaching helicopter. Ash glanced upward, too, then back over his shoulder.

  “Car’s still coming,” he said.

  “I know,” said Daryl. He led them around a curve in the road and they blinked in the electric glow of the billboards. There were still a few late-night wanderers roaming around. A couple of them took photos of the illuminated signs, while others just milled around looking lost.

  Daryl slowed. “We should be OK here,” he said. “They won’t try anything with people watching.”

  “Uh, Daryl,” said Riley. She looked the others up and down. The red dots of several laser-targeting scopes swam on their chests like fireflies. “You may want to rethink that.”

  Twenty-Three

  “Where are they?” asked Ash through gritted teeth.

  “Windows ahead and to the left. Three floors up,” said Daryl, his eyes scanning the buildings on all sides. “Two up on the roof to our right.”

  “I can take them,” Ash said, his hands ready at his sides.

  “No,” Daryl hissed. “We can’t. If they start shooting, people might get hurt.”

  Ash shook his head. “That’s not our problem.”

  “Worth pointing out that the people getting hurt might be us,” Riley said. There were four red dots on her now, plus five or six on each of the boys.

  “Exactly,” said Daryl. “And we can’t afford that. Not now.”

  The rhythmic thumping of the chopper’s blades grew louder around them, echoing off the high buildings so even Daryl struggled to pinpoint which direction it was coming from.

  “So what do you suggest?” said Ash. “We just surrender?”

  Daryl nodded. “If it comes to it, but I’m hoping it doesn’t. We can get out of this, you two just need to be ready for my signal. OK?”

  “Gotcha,” said Riley.

  Ash scowled. “Whatever,” he said, but he kept his hands ready.

  The black 4x4 mounted a curb twenty feet away and came to a stop. Spotlights sparked up on its roof, flooding Daryl and the others in their harsh white glow.

  An identical vehicle crept toward them from another direction, hitting its own spotlights just as it came to a stop. Everything behind both vehicles became darkened silhouettes, and the bystanders who had been watching were swallowed by the shadows.

  “Why aren’t they making a move?” Ash demanded.

  “Maybe they’re waiting to see what we’re going to do,” Daryl guessed.

  “Or maybe they’re waiting for whoever’s in the helicopter to arrive,” said Riley.

  “I should knock it out of the sky,” said Ash. “Soon as it appears, I could just, like—boom. Take it down.”

  “Hey, you’re right, you could do that,” said Riley. “Except for one tiny thing.”

  “What’s that?” asked Ash.

  “It’s the stupidest idea in the history of the world.”

  “I’m with Riley,” agreed Daryl. “Taking down the helicopter is insane. Don�
��t do it.”

  Ash didn’t reply.

  Daryl glanced at him. “I mean it. Don’t.”

  “You’re not the boss of me,” Ash said.

  “If you bring down that helicopter then—”

  “Fine. I won’t! Jesus Christ, already.” Ash rocked from foot to foot. “Just wish someone would hurry up and make a damn move.”

  “They’re making it,” Daryl said. “No traffic. They’ve blocked the roads off all around here. Nothing’s getting in or out.”

  “Hath is so going to kill us,” Riley muttered. “What are they doing? Can you hear anything? Anything useful, I mean.”

  Daryl cocked his head to one side and listened, but the churning of the 4x4s’ engines and the echoing of the rotor blades made picking out anything else almost impossible.

  Then, from behind, he heard the creaking of car doors opening. Daryl turned to see four armed men exit the first 4x4. They spread out into an evenly-spaced straight line and advanced slowly, assault rifles trained on the group in the center of the spotlights.

  The doors on the other vehicle opened, too. Daryl could see the men who emerged speaking to one another, but the helicopter’s rotors was a roar that came from all directions at once now, and he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Judging by their faces and the way they held their guns, though, they weren’t saying anything nice.

  “Sure you don’t want me to take them out?” Ash said.

  In reply to the question, Daryl slowly raised his hands above his head. Riley quickly followed suit, jerking her arms up so quickly that two of the approaching PPA agents stopped and trained their weapons on her.

  Ash sighed. “You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered, then he put his own hands in the air, too. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Just be ready,” Daryl said, then the rest of his sentence was lost as a sleek black helicopter buzzed over the rooftops and slowed to a hover in the air above them. The wind pushed down on them and swept across Piccadilly Circus, sending empty cans and paper cups rolling across the tarmac as if trying to make their escape.

  Daryl and the others watched as the helicopter slowly descended. It touched down in the middle of the street, the tips of its rotor blades just a few feet from the street lights on either side.

  The gunmen kept their eyes and weapons trained on Daryl’s group. There were twenty-two guns pointing at them at least—more if there were snipers without laser sights out there that Daryl hadn’t noticed. Even he couldn’t move fast enough to dodge all those, and Ash and Riley would have no chance.

  “We should be taking the offensive here,” said Ash, as if reading his mind. “Not giving them more time to get ready.”

  Daryl said nothing. He watched the side door of the helicopter glide open and another man in a dark combat outfit step out. The man was older than the others and didn’t have a gun in his hand as he strode with an officer’s confidence toward them.

  “This has to be the boss,” Daryl said.

  “You grab him. I’ll blast the chopper, we use him as a human shield and then we—”

  “Shut up, Ash,” said Riley.

  Ash muttered. “Just a suggestion.”

  The PPA officer stopped three car lengths away. Like the rest of his squad, he wore a matte black helmet and heavy body armor. Unlike the others, there was a crop of grey hair visible at the edge of the helmet, and his face was lined with deep wrinkles and crags. He looked the group up and down, then pulled his mouth into something vaguely resembling a smile.

  “Daryl. We’ve been looking for you,” he said, his voice betraying just a hint of an accent. French, maybe, but it was hard to be sure. “And you’ve met the great Ash Stone, too. How interesting.”

  He looked between them both as he tried to figure out the connection between them, then turned his attention to the third member of the group. “And I see you’ve made a new friend, also. This one I do not know. Who are you?”

  “Don’t tell him, Riley,” Ash whispered.

  “Riley,” said the officer, raising his voice. Behind him, one of the gunmen took out a radio and began talking into it. “How lovely to meet you, Riley,” the officer continued. “But I hope you realize you’re in very dangerous company.”

  “I can handle myself,” Riley said, although she didn’t sound particularly convincing.

  “Yes. Yes, I’m sure you can,” the officer said.

  There was a buzzing from near his wrist, so quiet that only Daryl could hear it. The officer raised his arm in front of him as if looking at his watch, and swiped a gloved finger across an iPhone-sized screen mounted on his forearm. His face was lit up as the screen came to life.

  After a moment, the PPA man lowered his arm and nodded at Riley. “You’re a long way from home, Miss Harper,” he said, then he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “On your knees.”

  Riley glanced at the others. “What, just me or…?”

  “All of you. Now.”

  Ash narrowed his eyes. “If you think I’m letting you ass-hats take me again, you’re in for a big—”

  Daryl lowered himself to his knees. Riley hesitated, then followed his lead.

  “Aw, come on,” Ash spat. He sighed heavily, then got down onto his knees.

  The PPA officer gave a satisfied nod. “That’s what I like to see.”

  “You’re making a big mistake,” said Daryl. “You can’t take us in. Trust me.”

  “I can. Trust me. I’ve got two dozen highly-trained, heavily-armed men here, all of whom are deeply unhappy at being called out in the middle of the night,” the officer said. “I can do pretty much anything I want at this point.”

  “The world is in danger,” Daryl said. “Someone is coming, and you’re going to need us to—”

  “The world is always in danger, kid,” said the officer. “That’s why organizations like ours exist, so everyone else can continue going about their lives while we take care of the monsters who would otherwise do them harm.”

  He slowly pointed a finger to each of them in turn, making a tocking sound with his mouth when his finger paused on each of them.

  “We’re not monsters,” Riley said.

  “We’re the only chance you have,” added Daryl. “That anyone has.”

  The officer cast his cold gaze across them. “I’ve been doing this a long time. I know monsters when I see them.”

  Suddenly, the neon lights of the billboards flickered then went black. Daryl’s group and the officer all looked up in time to see the scrolling adverts replaced by… something else. A single fuzzy image now covered all of the boards. It took a moment for the image to sharpen, bringing into focus a face with dark slits for eyes and a broad bat-like nose.

  Daryl heard Riley gasp and felt his own pulse quicken. That face. It was the face of the monster in Hath’s simulation.

  The face of the World Killer.

  The walkie-talkies of the PPA gunmen crackled and squawked. The screen on the officer’s arm flicked on, and Daryl caught a glimpse of the same face lighting up the glass.

  A voice emerged from the wrist-screen and the walkie-talkies, as the face on the screen began to speak.

  “Is that… is that him?” Riley asked. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

  “Who?” demanded the officer. “Who is that?”

  “That’s your monster,” said Daryl. “That’s who’s coming.”

  A series of hissing grunts and snarls spat at them through the speakers. The sounds were fierce and animal-like, but Daryl could make out a structure to them that suggested they were words and sentences, and not just the random growling they appeared to be.

  “What’s he doing?” asked Ash.

  “Talking. He’s telling us something.” Daryl shook his head. “But I have no idea what.”

  “Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good,” said Riley.

  The officer jabbed a finger toward the big screens. “What do you know about this? Who is that?”

&
nbsp; “He calls himself the World Killer,” said Daryl. “He’s coming. He’s coming here. Now. To kill all of us. Everyone. And we—us three—we’re the only ones who can stop him.”

  The PPA officer looked down at him, his craggy face giving nothing away. “Really? Fascinating,” he said, at last. “But I don’t believe you. This… This is someone in a mask. This is a trick. What, you think I’m an idiot?”

  “No trick,” said Daryl.

  “He rules a planet called Skalgorth. It travels through space—”

  “The planet? The plant travels through space?” said the officer.

  “That’s right.” Daryl nodded. “It travels through—”

  “Skargorth?”

  “Skalgorth,” Daryl said. “It travels through space and—”

  “How does it do that?” the officer asked. There was a smirk at one corner of his mouth.

  “You don’t believe me,” Daryl said.

  “Of course he doesn’t believe you,” said Ash. “Hell, I barely believe you myself. We send these guys packing now, right?”

  He pointed his hands out in front of him. “Wait!” yelped Daryl as the agents’ fingers went tight on their triggers. “Stop. Ash, put your hands up, don’t point them at…”

  Daryl realized no one was listening to him. Instead, Riley, Ash, and the officer were watching the face towering above Piccadilly Circus. It took him a split-second to work out that the voice was now speaking in perfect English.

  “…on all transmissions across your world,” crackled the voice from the walkie-talkies. “You stand in the presence of the High Ruler of Skalgorth, just as billions have done before you,” said the alien. The movement of his lips and the sound of his voice were disconnected, as if his words were being fed through a translator.

  “And just like those billions, you all shall soon be dead.”

  He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. Even the gunmen had taken their eyes off Daryl’s group and were staring intently at the World Killer on the screen.

  “Soon, Skalgorth shall fill your skies, then I will slaughter your children like cattle and pick their flesh from my teeth with their bones. I shall take everything you have ever fought for, everything you have ever loved, everything that you ever were, and then I shall burn whatever is left,” rasped the voice.