Resurgence, p.1
Resurgence, page 1
part #5 of Hell on Earth Series
Resurgence
Hell on Earth: Book 5
Iain Rob Wright
Contents
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Foreword
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
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Foreword
So… if you are still with me, this is book 5 in the Hell on Earth series that began with The Gates. Book 6 will likely be the end, so things are now ramping up towards the end game. I hoped you enjoyed the previous book, although it was a slight departure. I needed to widen the scope of things before the final battle, which is why we visited the castle in the woods. This book will return to the main plot line, and book 6 shall bring everything together.
As with previous books, this one has a mix of old characters and new. I hope you enjoy every page.
Wit much appreciation,
Iain Rob Wright
Strong people stand up for themselves, but stronger people stand up for others.
— Unknown
Be careful when you cast out your demons that you don’t throw away the best of yourself.
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Oh look, carnage!
— Doug, Cooties (2014), Lionsgate Premiere
Dedicated to Stephanie Hardy. The most hardcore of proofreaders.
Chapter One
Aymun awoke on the ground, sweating, blankets kicked aside. The winter had been tough, sleeping in unheated houses and outside around dwindling campfires, but the ground had finally thawed and the sun had started making brief appearances. Last night had even approached warm, and Aymun had taken the blessing with a smile.
Waking amongst the twigs and brambles didn’t disconcert Aymun. He’d never lived a life of comfort or wealth, but over time he had come to enjoy the feeling of God’s earth against his back. Whether it be the shifting sands of back home or the leafy forests of England. Something, however, was wrong this morning. It wasn’t that a demon lay snoring three feet away from him. Or the fact that his tummy groaned from a lack of food. No, it was his missing companion that concerned him. Vamps never awoke first. He always needed stirring.
But this morning, Vamps had awoken and left their camp in silence. Or was it Crimolok – Red Lord and sibling to both Lucifer and Michael – who had left?
The archangel had found its way inside Vamps after a confrontation in Hell’s throne room. Such tales would once have been the domain of Aymun’s precious Quran, but in these times new chapters were being written out on blank pages. There was no way of knowing how mankind’s story would end, or even what would happen next. God had abandoned His children and monsters fought in His wake. Crimolok was the worst of them all, but he was trapped inside Vamps’ body.
Aymun reached out and shook the snoring demon to his left. “David? David, wake up.”
The demon bolted upright, as he often did when woken. The small creature was a bag of nerves. “I am David!”
“Yes, you are David. I am Aymun, your friend.”
The demon blinked and stared at Aymun. It spoke slowly. “Yes, Ay-mond. Safe Ay-mond.”
Aymun patted David’s sinewy thigh. “Vamps is missing.”
David leapt up and started hopping anxiously. He’d been naked when they’d first started travelling with him, but now the demon wore loose-fitting black trousers and a Tottenham FC shirt. “Bad thing. Bad thing. We must find.”
Aymun stood up. “Yes, we need to find Vamps and the abomination inside him.”
“Vamps good. Vamps bad.”
“Both. Help me look.”
David stopped hopping and gave Aymun a serious look. “Yes. Help.”
And so the two of them set off through the woods, a Syrian and a demon, both far from home. Which direction Vamps had travelled was unclear, but Aymun spotted some trampled leaves and a snapped branch that led him towards a nearby incline. He hoped he would find his friend at the top.
He hoped he would find his adversary too.
Truthfully, Aymun had been at a loss since surviving the battle at Kielder Forest. They had the Red Lord contained – imprisoned inside a mortal vessel – but the problem with human bodies was that they were fragile. Crimolok’s current confinement was temporary, which was why Aymun eagerly sought a path that would take advantage of their current, brief reprieve. With the Red Lord contained, now was the time to act. But act in what way?
The incline steepened, and the undergrowth gave way to stony earth. Soon, they were trudging upwards towards the edge of a rocky outcropping. Vamps stood on the highest ledge, staring down at the stony ground twenty feet below.
Aymun slowed his approach, not wanting to startle his friend and cause him to fall. “Vamps? Vamps, my brother, what are you doing?”
Vamps didn’t turn, but he gave a reply. “What d’you think would happen if I threw myself against those rocks? You reckon Crimolok would die with me?”
Aymun approached a few more steps, trying to see his friend’s face, to see what was going on there. “If you kill yourself, who knows what would happen?”
“I’d go to Hell, right? That’s what the Bible says. And the Quran.”
Aymun chuckled, but it was from nervousness not humour. “They are just books. Words on paper written by the pens of men. The truth is deeper than mere words, and it is ever unknowable. We were not made to understand the workings of existence. I fear we have learned too much already.”
“But there’s a chance I could throw myself from this ledge and take Crimolok with me? We don’t know, do we? I could end it all right now and this shit might be over.”
“You would be gambling with the lives of millions. Perhaps billions.”
Vamps finally turned to face Aymun. Despite his dark skin, he seemed somehow grey. Sickly. “I think you’re being extremely optimistic.”
Aymun shrugged and conceded the point. “Then I would tell you that even one life is too precious to gamble with. Vamps, you shoulder a great burden, but you have done so before with great courage. That courage is still inside you, as much as anything else might be.”
Vamps clutched his stomach as if it ached and his face creased in misery. His impassiveness fell away, and his emotions took over in a flood. “I can feel him in me, Ay. Every day, it’s like I’m getting more and more crowded out.”
Aymun put out a hand and took the final steps between them. He wished he could take this burden from his friend, but that was not the way of things. “We shall win this fight, brother. Mankind shall prevail as it always has. The evil inside you shall perish and we will see brighter days. This I promise you.”
Vamps nodded, tears in his eyes. “I… I didn’t sleep well. I think I just need to rest.”
Aymun took Vamps by the arm and moved him away from the ledge. “Then rest we shall, brother.”
Wickstaff grew more god-like every day. Before the gates had appeared, Maddy worshipped strong-willed women like Dame Helen Mirren and Deborah Meaden, but they all paled compared to the woman standing in front of her now. In Maddy’s mind, Wickstaff was the reason everyone at Portsmouth was still alive.
She never stops for a second.
Wickstaff caught Maddy staring at her and raised an eyebrow. “What are you staring at, woman? Do you have something to say?”
Maddy shook herself. “Erm, yes, ma’am, I have the reports from Field Team One. Mass is back on base after securing the southern outskirts of Reading, but he plans to head right back out after resupplying. He hopes to push our lines north to Oxford within three months.”
Wickstaff slapped a bunch of papers on her desk and chortled. “We really must discover that fine chap’s surname. It crawls the skin to keep referring to him as Captain Mass.”
Maddy smirked. “Makes him sound like a superhero.”
“He isn’t far off being one. Half the ground we’ve regained is down to Field Team One. If Captain Mass does any more to secure our welfare, I’ll marry the man. Sod it, have you seen his body? I’ll marry him regardless.”
Maddy had seen Mass working out topless one time at the docks, so she was more than aware of his physique. To be honest, though, the furthest thing from her mind was sex, which was why she merely nodded without comment.
“Have the captain meet with me when he has a moment,” said Wickstaff. “I would like to thank him personally for his efforts.”
“Understood. The other field teams are making progress too. We’ve taken back Bournemouth and Poole, but to the east we’re struggling to break through demon forces at Brighton. There’s a gate there. We’ve lost a lot of men.”
Wickstaff moved aside the papers on her desk and perched on the edge. As strong as she was, she looked weary. The last year had aged her five. Dark bags hung from her eyes as she looked at Maddy. “Are there still demons coming through this gate in Brighton?”
“A steady stream. The only relief is that not all the demons want to fight. Most just wand
“We’re still getting reports of their odd behaviour?”
Maddy perused her notes, knowing she had a direct quote somewhere. “Erm, yes, Captain Dawson reports they are ‘behaving like Arabs in the Arctic’.”
Wickstaff frowned. “What on earth does that mean?”
“I think it means confused.”
“With the fallen angels gone, they’ve become rudderless. That’s why we must act quickly and direct them back to Hell.”
“What are your orders, ma’am?”
Wickstaff rubbed at her eyes and breathed for a moment. “It’s tempting to go all-in on the offensive – we finally have the buggers on the run, after all – but there’s still too much stacked against us. The demons outnumber us ten to one, and it’s only their recent confusion that’s allowing us to pick them off piecemeal. If we overextend, we could find ourselves assaulted from multiple sides. While it pains me to leave people in need of rescuing, we must remain cautious in our efforts. Give the field teams a day of rest. Let them hold the line for a while instead of pushing to extend it. I don’t want to lose any more men. Meanwhile, I want to know why the demons are changing, and what exactly that means.”
Maddy cleared her throat. “What exactly would you like to do?”
“Use your head, woman. We need to capture one of the blighters alive and put him to the torch.”
Maddy raised her eyebrows. “A prisoner of war?”
“Yes, although don’t expect me to follow the Geneva Convention, because, last I checked, Switzerland is now a part of Germany.”
“Speaking of the German Confederation, Chancellor Capri is still demanding his nuclear submarine back.”
“He can whistle for it. Commander Klein has made it clear he wishes to remain in Portsmouth. He’s got quite the poker club going on Thursday nights, by all accounts.”
Maddy chuckled. “That’s what I told Capri, but he wasn’t happy. Also, Diane neutralised another assassin last night. It was attempting to sneak in on the back of one of our supply trucks.”
Wickstaff tutted. “Only one this week. They’re starting to give up on me. Does that mean they no longer deem me important?” She picked her papers back up off the desk and resumed studying them. “Thank you, Maddy. Now, if you don’t mind, I might treat myself to some light reading followed by a few hours’ sleep.”
“Yes, of course, but first there’s, erm, one last thing I need to tell you.”
Wickstaff eyeballed her over the top of her papers. “Yes? Well, spit it out, woman. What is it?”
“It’s General Thomas.”
“That blustering old fool? What about him?”
Maddy swallowed. She’d been struggling with this news all morning. They were a family at Portsmouth, and things were working just fine. They didn’t need a headache coming along and screwing things up. “General Thomas has stated he’ll be with us tomorrow afternoon. In the flesh.”
Wickstaff straightened. Her dark eyes narrowed. “General Thomas is coming to Portsmouth?”
“He’s crossing the channel as we speak.”
Wickstaff reached around the back of her head and tightened the knot around her ponytail. “Then I suppose we’ll have to roll out the red carpet. Wake me up at twenty-one hundred hours, please, Maddy.”
“Yes, ma’am. Should I—”
“Twenty-one hundred hours, thank you!”
Maddy wheeled around and left the room. A sickening puddle had grown inside her guts and it left her feeling unbalanced. Her anxiety arose from a certainty that things were about to change.
And change always left casualties.
With trepidation, Aymun studied Vamps. After his two-hour nap, he was looking better but was still ashen-faced and stiff. It reminded Aymun of the cancer patients he had visited in Syria’s run-down clinics, where he had offered them solace through Allah’s teachings.
Allah will help him who moves in the way of Allah.
Thinking of that young man he’d been made Aymun chuckle. One never knew where destiny would lead them, but in his youth he had thought there was a plan for everything. Most of those clinics were bombed or abandoned in the years that followed, and Aymun had put down his Quran to pick up an AK-47. Had that been Allah’s plan?
Probably not.
Allah’s only want for humanity was for it to survive. If humanity met extinction, it would render God vulnerable to attack by malevolent forces. Mankind was the battery powering His heavenly barricade. Perhaps it mattered little beyond that.
Vamps grunted after a moment. “We’re not achieving anything walking through the woods like this. We need to be doing something, Ay. We have to do something to help.”
Aymun sighed. “We are. We are heading back to Portsmouth to inform General Wickstaff about the settlement in the forest. Combined, Portsmouth and Kielder can take control of this country’s central region by attacking from the north and south. Then the two settlements shall become beacons, calling out to survivors across the land to cease their hiding and take up arms. Portsmouth and Kielder represent hope, my brother, and hope is many times more powerful than a bullet or a knife. Our journey is vital.”
“Vital,” said David, although the demon clearly didn’t understand the word. It was strange he knew English, seeing as how he’d told them he’d been a Briton from Roman times. And just a boy at that.
Aymun gave David a friendly pat on the back and then looked at Vamps. “We shall find our true purpose. Be ready when we do.”
Vamps reached out and snapped a branch that was threatening to whip him in the face. “That depends who’s at the wheel.”
Aymun nodded. He understood his friend’s concern, even if he could not fathom the horror of it. “Crimolok hasn’t appeared in eight days. He appears to have gone dormant. Perhaps he will remain so.”
“He hasn’t gone dormant,” said Vamps. “I can feel him scheming and pulling resources from my mind, trying to escape.”
“Then you must thwart him.”
Vamps smirked, which was a welcome sight even if it wasn’t a complete smile. “Thwart?”
“It is indeed a word, no?”
“Thwart,” said David.
Aymun nodded. “You see?”
Vamps left the smirk on his face, and for a moment they traversed the woodland in silence until Vamps lifted his head again to speak. Dark blood vessels invaded the rims of his eyes. “Look, Ay. I know I haven’t been myself these last few days but… cheers for having my back, yeah?”
“You are my brother.”
“More like a distant cousin but, yeah, we family.”
“Family,” said David. “Family good.”
Vamps frowned at the little demon. “D’you remember your family, David? Back in the old days.”
David smiled, which was horrifying on his twisted, skeletal face. “Family, yes! Big sister. Nori. Nori love David bad.”
Vamps frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Nori big sister. Not wife. Should not be. Bad to love.”
“Are you… David, did you screw your sister?”
Aymun tutted. Vamps possessed many good qualities, but tact was not one of them. Even in the dimly lit woods, Aymun instinctively looked around, embarrassed that someone might have heard the vulgar talk.
David frowned. “Nori love brother David. David love big sister Nori. But wrong way, they say. Family say. All say. I then young and understand not. Maybe understand now. Was wrong love.”
Vamps pulled a face at Aymun. David’s words were rarely straightforward, but they were obviously thinking the same thing. Aymun considered it, and was at first appalled, but then he realised that only his preconceived notions caused him to be repulsed. Deep down, he found himself unbothered by the revelation of incest. “There are worse things than love,” he said quietly, “in whatever form it takes.”
