“Fuck this!” Mass broke away from his friends and charged the incoming enemy. He heard Tox shout after him, but then, to his surprise, his companions followed his lead. Suddenly, the four of them were charging down a hundred demons. It was Mass’s proudest moment and a great way to die.
The world exploded. The sky turned red. A coppery scent grew into an unbearable stench.
Mass threw himself at a primate but missed as it flew backwards out of his grasp. A flaming hole had erupted in the side of its head. Confused, Mass recovered and swung his fists, but his next target slumped to the ground before he could even make contact. More demons fell, not one at a time but in twos and threes. The vile horde wavered, gaps opening up in the onrushing multitude as bodies hit the road. Mass stood like a statue, covered in bloody mist and pieces of meat. For a moment, he thought God had rained thunderbolts from the sky. Then he recognised the mocking chatter of rifle fire and the angry bark of shotguns.
“Soldiers,” said Smithy, putting a hand on Mass’s shoulder and yanking him out of the fray. “Mofos came out of nowhere like the shitting riders of Rohan.”
Mass looked. Twenty, maybe thirty soldiers had lined up across the road. Professional and fearless, they fired their shotguns and rifles as quickly as they could, and they reloaded proficiently without the slightest of fumbles. Some men, those dressed in military fatigues, were complete strangers, but others Mass knew well. He briefly made eye contact with Cullen and the two of them nodded.
The Urban Vampires had arrived – and they were packing heat.
7
General Thomas gave Colonel Cross a passing thought. Was he still out there, searching for that imbecilic thug with the ridiculous name, or was he dead in a ditch somewhere with a bullet in his head? No matter which, the troublesome colonel was out of the way. Either Tony would return alive and well, recommitted to what Thomas was trying to achieve – the liberation of Great Britain – or he would die out there and never be heard from again.
The enemy was on the ropes. Wickstaff had defeated a great number of their foe, but it was Thomas’s duty to mop up what remained. Only a fool would allow their enemy time to regroup. Not that Thomas was naive enough to consider a scattered enemy an easy prospect – the Yanks had learned that lesson in Vietnam. Sometimes, letting two amassed armies fight it out to the death was worth the risk. To the victor go the spoils, as they say. The demons – if he must call them that – were disorganised, and deadly because of it. Unlike humans, an isolated group of demons did not lose hope or seek safety from battle. Each would die happily if it meant butchering a human first. Portsmouth could not sit idly by and await a death by a thousand cuts. Every day, patrols discovered the bloody remains of an incautious soldier or foolhardy civilian. Recently, the demons had even been so bold as to attack a supply team returning from a supermarket distribution centre south of Oxford. Those demons had been quickly dispatched, but two good soldiers had lost their lives. If Portsmouth continued to operate with an enemy on its doorstep, a war of attrition would ensue. Losses on both sides would be constant and devastating. That was why Thomas would do what the German Confederation had done in the Middle East and Eastern Europe. Defence would turn to attack.
Time to hunt these bastards down once and for all.
In the forty-eight hours since Colonel Cross had departed, Thomas had been making preparations. Portsmouth was under martial law, and every single citizen was either a trained soldier or a hardy survivor. While Wickstaff had lacked standards, her people were brave and motivated – he had to give the woman that. It was a necessary evil to include them in the battles ahead, unwise to leave them behind in Portsmouth while his more loyal men departed for war. It was a balancing act. On the one hand, too many of Wickstaff’s people at either Portsmouth or out in the field would threaten discipline and security. On the other hand, if he had to send men to their death in a fight against the demons, he would prefer it to be Wickstaff’s people. Eventually, he decided to leave five thousand loyal veterans behind to police and protect Portsmouth, while the other ten thousand would go to war. Of Wickstaff’s people, he took only five thousand and left behind ten thousand: the women, children, the weak, and the old. They would make good hostages if any kind of insurrection occurred in the field. He had tasked several dozen men with returning to Portsmouth upon his death to share the means and manner of such a tragedy. Any foul play, and Portsmouth would become a bloodbath.
No war has ever been won without contingencies.
To help manage the population, both military and civilian, Thomas had promoted several men to positions of high command. He was travelling to go and meet with them right now. His orders would be concise, for time was of the essence, but everyone would be on the same page. A great army was to depart Portsmouth at first light tomorrow, setting out to reclaim their homeland. Great Britain would be reborn.
Diane didn’t know why she’d been summoned to what Thomas called the ‘war room’, but her strange new friend, Damien, assured her that everything was okay. Tom hadn’t given up her role in the planned coup, nor had he shared her name with the people he’d recruited on her behalf. However, someone Tom trusted had clearly betrayed him, and despite Damien’s assurances, Diane feared she was walking into a trap.
“Stop worrying,” said Damien for the umpteenth time. The more she got used to his face, the more she noticed the tiny details. A thin scar dissected his right eyebrow and another sliced his bald head. His right wrist was ringed by a line of thickened flesh, like his hand had been cut off and reattached.
“Who are you, Damien? Where did you come from?”
“I’m a fighter like you, but if I told you where I came from, you wouldn’t believe me. Not yet, anyway. The only thing you need to know is that the guy I work for disappeared and left me stuck here with nothing to do. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in Portsmouth, trying to see where I fit in. I know what you’ve been doing, Diane, and I want to keep you alive long enough to succeed. Thomas doesn’t have anything on you, so don’t give him reason to think of you as anything other than a harmless girl. Just go in there and see what’s on the cards.”
“And what if it’s bad?”
“I wish I could say I’d pull your arse out of the fire, but I didn’t bring an army with me. Keep your cool, and be smart. It’s your only option.”
Diane tried to shoo the butterflies in her stomach, but they refused to retreat. In fact, they laid eggs and gave birth to caterpillars. Thomas had paid her zero interest since Wickstaff’s death, but now he was suddenly summoning her to a meeting, and only a few short hours after executing Tom and his friends.
This can’t end well.
If it looks like he’s going to have me shot, I’ll do everything I can to slice his throat open first.
She took a deep breath and tried to keep from shaking as she walked down the long hallway inside the port administration building. She entered by a door on the left and was surprised to find several people already inside. Commander Klein stood at the back of the room, and seeing his friendly face was a relief. The brief smile he gave her settled her nerves more than anything else could have. She approached the German and asked him why he was there.
“Ze answer alludes me also, Diane. Perhaps ze general wishes to have us all shot.”
“Not funny. You saw what happened yesterday?”
“Ja. Let us not speak of it. Young Tom was a fine canasta player.”
General Thomas entered the room through a separate door. Everyone – four men but no women besides Diane – stood to attention. She was no soldier, so she failed to salute the general. It earned her a glare. A bad start to whatever this was.
“Thank you for your presence,” said Thomas, eyeballing each of them in turn. Klein behaved as if he had some place better to be. “I am sure you are wondering why I summoned you here. Each of you is now part of my executive cabinet. Commander Klein, I understand you don’t like to acknowledge orders, but as you have possession of our o
nly nuclear capabilities, it felt prudent to include you.”
Commander Klein said nothing.
Thomas went around the room introducing the middle-aged white men one after another. “Colonel Wanstead is in charge of defence at Portsmouth. He will take control of security, law and order, et cetera.”
Wanstead raised a hand briefly to say hello. He was a chubby man, which was a rarity these days with rationing in effect. Diane had seen him around base before, making himself heard whenever Thomas wasn’t around. He always spoke slowly, each word perfectly pronounced. “It is an honour to receive such an important duty. I shall endeavour to carry out my obligations in an exemplary fashion.”
Thomas pointed to the next man, thinner and taller than Wanstead, with a long nose that seemed custom-made for snobbishly probing the air. “Commander Morrissey, you shall command our navy. Your immediate orders are to appoint your own sub-commanders and separate the fleet into domestic and operational. You will also inherit the small fleet previously commanded by that treacherous Yank, Commander Tosco.”
Morrissey sneered, making his already harsh face even harsher. “Less said about him the better, if you wish to hear my opinion, sir.”
“Indeed.”
Thomas turned to the remaining man, whose face was leathery and old. His eyes were a piercing grey. His lips were thin and pale. His neat brown hair suggested he held high standards for himself even during the apocalypse. Thomas spoke to him a little less abruptly than the others. “Colonel Livingstone, you are a veteran of countless skirmishes, more than I can name. Many would think you unkillable, and it is without question that you should take operational command of Portsmouth’s ground forces. You will answer directly to me in the field.”
Colonel Livingstone saluted. “It’s an honour, sir. Might I enquire as to Colonel Cross’s role in the battles ahead?”
It was a good question. Diane had been wondering herself why Tony hadn’t been mentioned already. Wasn’t he General Thomas’s second in command? Thomas nodded as if he also considered it a good question. “Colonel Cross is conducting an important mission on behalf of Portsmouth. Upon his return, he will most likely work alongside me in executive planning. Without him being here, however, I cannot confirm his place in events to come.”
Diane didn’t like the ambiguity of the statements. She knew Tony had left to search for Mass, but there was no way Thomas would want the Urban Vampires back in Portsmouth. Mass was a tough son of a bitch who wouldn’t swallow Thomas’s brand of bullshit. She suspected Tony’s mission was intended to fail.
Thomas waved an arm. “Okay, men, dismissed.”
The men began to file out of the room, which sparked Diane’s anxiety and made her speak up. “Um… can I ask why you summoned me here, sir?”
“Ah, yes, Diane, I almost forgot you. You acted as General Wickstaff’s head of security, yes?”
Diane nodded, which prompted Thomas to frown at her and tilt his head as if trying to hear her. “Y-Yes, sir. I was her bodyguard and head of security.”
“Needless to say, you failed,” said Colonel Livingstone, a smirk escaping his lips.
“She is just one woman,” said Commander Klein, not bothering to make eye contact with anyone. “It is a miracle she protected Wickstaff as long as she did. I doubt anyone here would have done better, ja?”
Livingstone’s smirk turned into a distasteful scowl. He was about to reply to Klein, but Thomas cut him off. “It is true, Diane had an impossible task. We live in the most dangerous of times, which is why I will take care of my own security from now on.”
Diane swallowed. “Then why am I—”
“I wish for you to use your skills in another way. You know Portsmouth and its people, and you have a certain knack for remaining unnoticed. Why, you’re just a tiny waif of a girl, aren’t you?”
She wanted to kill him, but Damien’s words kept echoing in her head. Don’t give Thomas any reason to see her as anything but an unimportant girl.
“I-I will be useful wherever I can—”
“I want you to find those plotting rebellion. As you’ve undoubtedly seen, I dealt with several traitors yesterday, but I am under no illusion that there are more. The weeds must be yanked if Portsmouth is to ever truly flourish. You were close to Wickstaff, which means those loyal to her will instinctively trust you.”
Diane’s mouth was dry, and her voice came out in a croak. “I-I suppose so.”
“May I ask you a question?”
All eyes in the room were on her as she nodded meekly. Inside, she was a cauldron of bubbling hatred.
“Diane, are you loyal to Portsmouth? Are you loyal to me?”
Every cell in her body yelled no, but if that word came out of her mouth, she’d catch a bullet in the skull. “You can trust me, sir. I swear.”
How’s fuck you, bastard, for swearing?
Thomas stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Good. If you are truly loyal, then I expect a list of names in due course.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Diane turned to leave, but Thomas called her back. “Understand me, young lady, Wickstaff might have been relaxed about a very many things, but I am a different breed of animal. When I dismiss you, I expect you to salute.”
Diane had never given a salute in her life. She wasn’t a member of the military, even with her recently gained ability to use a variety of firearms. Playing along was the smartest option, though, so she gave in. “I apologise, General Thomas.” She snapped off her best attempt to emulate what she had seen others do. “Permission to be dismissed, sir?”
So I can go back to plotting your death?
Thomas nodded, and Diane left the room in a hurry, followed by the small group of middle-aged white men. She picked up speed and left them behind, not wanting to chat or even make eye contact. Considering how quickly she exited the port administration building, it was a surprise that Commander Klein caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back a step. “Your anger is showing, Diane. I suggest you verk on that.”
She glared at the German and shrugged her arm free of his grasp. “That piece of shit! That skinny, stuck-up piece of shit. He made me salute him, when all I want to do is shove a blade in his throat.”
“War is a game, and Thomas has made his move. Now you must take time to consider yours.” He put a finger to his lips to shush her. General Livingstone walked past, smirking at Diane and sharing a chuckle with himself. Usually, she would’ve asked him what he was fucking laughing at, but Klein gave her a warning stare not to do so.
Once they were alone again, Diane glared at Klein. “What’s to consider? Thomas can piss right off if he thinks I’ll rat out the people who want him dead.”
“Then you shall be dead, ja? Do you not understand? Thomas has manoeuvred you into a situation you cannot vin. You either give up ze people you recruited, or turn up empty of hand and reveal your disloyalty. Either way, Thomas’s enemies die.”
“I’ll say I couldn’t find out who they were.”
Klein rolled his eyes at her like she was a silly girl. It made her furious. “Thomas vill know you are lying. I suspect he already knows you are a traitor.”
“Then why not just shoot me?”
“Perhaps he vud like more evidence before he executes another of Wickstaff’s people. Or perhaps your squirming amuses him. I have known many men who enjoy such things.”
Diane sighed. “I’m screwed then. I didn’t even have a plan, but whatever hope I had of taking the bastard down has just gone up in smoke.”
Klein shook his head and smiled at her like a mischievous grandpa. “Perhaps not. A veek enemy is still an enemy, and even a parting shot can still hit ze heart. Be calm, be patient, and make your move when you see it. You might have only ze one shot, so make it count.”
Diane thought about it. “You’re right. I know what to do. There’s a reason I’ve survived this long when everyone I care about is dead.”
&
nbsp; Klein nodded and walked away.
It was late in the day, and the demon attack had left everyone a little high on adrenaline, so they headed off-road and made camp. Mass had never met Colonel Cross before, but Cullen – a man whom he trusted completely – seemed unsettled by something. Mass needed to know what was going on before he was willing to travel the roads and risk being attacked by more demons. That giant beast still stalked the horizon and was no doubt sending out its hordes to find them.
They had found safety in a nearby field, pitching their tents at its centre. Mass and his companions had no equipment, but Cullen and the other Urban Vampires had brought along spares. The women had been allocated three tents, while Tox, Addy, Mass, and Smithy agreed to double up with other Vampires.
Being amongst his people again lifted Mass’s spirits. All he had been doing lately was losing people, so to be surrounded by people he cared about again was an unexpected blessing. It didn’t mean they were safe, but sitting in a green field as afternoon gave way to evening, Mass was at peace.
The women from the farm finally appeared hopeful. Until now, Portsmouth could have been a giant lie, but seeing twenty well-armed, well-fed soldiers made it all the more believable that there was a settlement nearby.
Cullen seemed like he wanted to talk, but he hadn’t yet found an opportunity to get Mass alone. Colonel Cross and his men had pitched their tents in a semi-circle opposite those set up by Cullen’s group. Mass didn’t know if he was being rescued or guarded. If they hadn’t been so shaken up by the attack, they could’ve been halfway to Portsmouth by now, but the risk was too great. In a straight chase, the demons would have caught them. And it wasn’t only adrenaline that had exhausted Mass. When Rick had healed him, it had left him feeling reborn. Now, he felt heavy and depressed, like he just wanted to sleep.
Hell On Earth (Book 6): Rebirth Page 11