The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel (11 page)

Upon closer inspection, the boy wasn’t so young—a
teenager in fact, and probably as tall as she was. She took a step back. “I’m
not here to hurt you. I just want to see if you’re okay.”

When the boy spoke again, she noticed his American
accent. “I’m fine,” he snapped. “Just leave us be.”

Mina frowned. “Us?”

A girl popped up from behind another of the seats.
Unlike her older brother, she had golden blonde hair. “Kyle? Is she another
monster?”

“No, Alice. She’s just a normal lady, but she’s
going now.”

“I don’t want her to go.”

“We have to stay here, where it’s safe.”

“It’s safer if you come with us,” said Mina.

The boy pulled a face. “Out there? Everybody’s
dead.”

“I want to go home,” Alice moaned.

Kyle placed an arm around her. “I know you do,
Ally, but home is far away. We have to keep ourselves safe. I’ll look after
you, I promise.”

There was the sound of footfalls coming up the
stairs, making them all fret, but it was only David. He rounded the last few
steps and entered the upper deck. “Crikey,” he said when he saw them all
standing there. “Two children? How did you both survive?”

“We hid,” said Kyle, puffing out his chest. “We
were on a school field trip—my entire grade plus a few from the grades below. We
were all headed to the zoo, but we got attacked by a bunch of monsters. All our
friends and teachers are dead. Only reason we got away is cus I had to take
care of my sister. I got her and ran. One of our teachers was with us for a
while, but he left us.”

Mina gasped. “He left you?”

“Yeah, more of those monsters came at us from down
an avenue and Mr Campbell ran into an alleyway. We didn’t have a chance to
follow him, so we hid inside a store—that’s where I got this hammer—but then
the store caught on fire and we had to run again. Alice spotted this bus, and
that’s where we’ve been for hours.”

“We need to get you out of the city,” said Mina. “David
and I will protect you. We won’t run away on you like your teacher did. Will
we, David?”

“What? Oh, no, of course not. You’re safe with us,
lad. We’re journalists.”

Alice looked at her brother like a hungry kitten.
“Please, Kyle. I don’t want to stay on this bus anymore. The monsters are all gone.
We watched them leave.”

“I think it’s safe for now,” Mina assured them. “The
monsters seemed to have gone someplace else.”

Kyle huffed. “Yeah, but where? They didn’t just
vanish.”

“Which is why you need to come with us,” she said.
“It’s getting dark, and the monsters could be back any minute. You’d be all
alone out here if they do.”

Alice whimpered.

Kyle’s expression lost some of its confidence, and
the hammer he held so confidently lowered to his side. “Okay, we’ll come with
you folks, but only if you promise to get us back home to America. No offence,
but London sucks balls.”

Mina laughed. “It’s certainly seen better days.
Good to meet you, Kyle and Alice. This is my colleague, David, and I’ve already
told you that my name is Mina.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Alice, offering out
her little hand and shaking Mina’s.

“Are we ready?” David asked impatiently

Kyle raised his hammer and nodded. “I want to get my
sister home.”

***

They had headed east
through Mayfair, planning on using the first working car they came across, but
they were yet to find an area where the traffic hadn’t snarled up into an
impassable wall at every intersection.

Hyde Park was ahead, Marble Arch sat just a little
way off in the distance. For now it was as good a place as any to head, so
that’s where they went.

“They say that’s where you used to hang people,”
said Kyle, a macabre grin on his face.

David returned the boy’s smile. “That’s right,
lad. They called it Tyburn in those days, and the elm trees here were used to execute
condemned men. The most famous of them all, the Tyburn Tree, used to be at the
site where Marble Arch now sits. Executions were entertainment.”

Alice looked horrified. “They used to enjoy
watching people die?”

“They don’t anymore. Great Britain doesn’t execute
people in this day and age. America would be wise to follow our lead. It’s uncivilised.”

“America is the greatest country in the world,”
said Kyle.

“For now, yes,” David conceded. “But the British
Empire once ruled the world, and look at it now. All great empires are destined
to eventual mediocrity and extinction. No dynasty lasts forever. Before the
British Empire, there was the Ottoman Empire, and before that, the Holy Roman Empire.
Before that-”

“We get the point,” said Mina. “I think what David
is trying to tell you, Kyle, is that you should never think yourself better
than anybody else. We’re all just people, and we should stick together. Especially
now.”

Kyle chewed at the inside of his cheek and seemed
to consider the lesson being taught to him, which Mina thought was pretty level
headed for a teenage boy.

“I like England,” said Alice. “Even with the
monsters. I like all the big statues and the palaces. America should have a
King instead of a president. Presidents are rubbish.”

“My mum says they’re all crooks,” Kyle added.

Mina smiled. “Are you sure you can’t remember your
mother’s telephone number, Kyle? It would be good to call her.”

“It’s stored on my phone, but the teachers made us
leave our phones in the hotel.”

“Unfortunate,” said David. “Where are you children
from again?”

“Nebraska, originally, but our mom moved us to
Maine. It’s where Stephen King lives.”

“Yes, I’m aware. What about your father?”

“He lives on a boat.” Kyle said it contemptuously.
“Don’t see him much.”

“He’s a United States Coast Guard,” Alice added.
“He rescues people.”

“Wow,” said Mina. “I wish my daddy did something
cool like that. My daddy runs a chip shop.”

Alice frowned. “What’s a chip shop?”

“It’s where they sell English French fries,” Kyle
told her knowingly.

Mina smiled. “That’s right.”

“Can we have some?” Alice asked.

“Sure we c-”

David put a hand up to halt the conversation. “Oh,
yes! Oh, bloody well thank the stars. We’re saved.”

Mina put her arms around each of the children and
squeezed them tight as they all saw what lay ahead of them.

“Soldiers,” cried David. “It’s the British bloody Army.”

Hyde Park was covered in a vast collection of
military jeeps and trucks. Soldiers milled about like ants, and were setting up
sandbag walls, or mounting scary-looking machine guns on tripods. Mina noticed
other survivors wandering into the park from every direction, spilling out of
side streets or stumbling out of nearby buildings. From out in the open, it was
clear that London was burning, but this large area of grass and water had been
spared. People were being rescued. This was salvation.

A squad of soldiers spotted Mina’s group and
immediately approached. The lead soldier’s name patch read: MARTIN. “Identify
yourselves,” he barked.

David spoke on their behalf. “My name is David
Davids, journalist for the
Slough Echo
. This is my photographer, Mina Magar.
These children were unfortunate enough to be on a school trip from America. We
picked them up on our travels.”

“I’m Corporal Martin, good to meet you.” The
soldier looked at the two children and seemed sympathetic. “Your parents are
back in America?”

They both nodded.

“Sorry to hear that. We’ll try to contact them for
you.” He focused on Alice and said, “You’re lucky you had your big brother
watching out for you.”

Kyle wrapped his arm around his little sister and stood
proudly.

“Have you got everything under control?” Mina
asked the soldier, nodding to the large military force spread out over the park.

Martin shook his head. “Not even close. The Army
deployed in three sections of the city, but we all took a hammering. Orders
came through to fall back either here or at Greenwich Park. We’re concentrating
on getting civilians out of the city. You’re lucky you found us.”

“We need to get to Slough,” said David.

“No can do. We’re choppering people out to
Cambridge. They’re setting up a refugee camp there, but it’s not safe to go
north or east.”

“Why not?” Mina asked.

“Because London isn’t the only place hit. Birmingham
and Manchester are both under attack too, and so are Southampton, Swindon,
Plymouth, and a shit-tonne of other places. The enemy are coming at us from all
sides.”

“Do we know what they are?”

“Not a clue. Some of the men have been calling
them demons; said those glowing gates lead straight to Hell.”

Mina caught David glancing at her, but she asked
another question, “Where have all the demons in London gone?”

Martin shrugged. “We made a dent in their numbers
when we caught them out in the open at Regent’s Park. Choppers made a real mess
of ‘em at first, but then they took rifles off our dead squaddies and aimed
them up at the sky. The RAF pulled out and left us to look after ourselves. Typical
Crabs.”

Alice tilted her head. “Crabs?”

Martin smiled at her kindly. “Yeah, sweetheart, the
RAF pilots. Ask ‘em to lend a hand and they crawl off sideways. That’s why we
call ‘em Crabs.”

Alice frowned and remained confused.

“Where are the demons now?” Mina asked.

“North of the city. The enemy army in Birmingham
is heading south—they took a battering as well—so we think they might plan to merge
their forces. More of those creatures are pouring through the gates every
minute, so we’re doing our best to secure each one.”

“So we’re getting a handle on it?” asked David
hopefully.

“Huh, hardly. We gave ‘em a good seein’ to, admittedly,
but they outnumber our forces fifty-to-one. Eventually, we’ll run out of
weapons and men—most of our veterans are overseas and we’ve had to call in the
reserves. This ain’t like bombing a bunch of Afghans. These are our own cities,
full of civilians. The only way we can fight back is by putting boots on the
ground—but that’s not something we can do indefinitely. People need to join the
fight.”

David frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you civvies will have to start diggin’ in
instead of running and hiding. The only way we’ll win this war is by matching
the enemy’s numbers. Everyone needs to get involved in this one, but the TV and
radio are warning them all to stay in their homes. Not my call, but if you ask
me, that will be our downfall. The Armed Forces can’t win this war on its own.”

“We’re reporters,” said Mina. “We can tell people
to fight back.”

David scoffed. “Against an army of demons, Mina? Really?”

Corporal Martin shot David a glance. “Either that
or we all die, pal. Simple choice when you think about it. Come on into the
camp. There’ll be a chopper heading out in an hour or so.”

“To Cambridge though,” said Mina. “If you want us
to tell people to fight, we need to get to our offices in Slough.”

“No can do. The CO has already been begging the
Press to rally the public, but they’re getting their orders straight from the
PM—wherever that cowardly bugger is hiding. The Government is trying to keep everyone
out of harm’s way—I understand where they are coming from— but they don’t
understand that they’re dooming us all.”

“We’re from an independent paper,” said David. “We
don’t have politicians pulling our strings. We can report the truth.”

“At a piddling paper in Slough. Ha!”

Mina tried to get the soldier to see sense. “It’s
a start, isn’t it? We have a website. Who knows who might read it? We say the
right things and word will spread. What other chance is there?”

Martin rubbed at his chin and thought about it.
“Okay,” he eventually said. “I can’t redirect a chopper for you, but I can
spare a couple men and a jeep to get you out of the city. Slough isn’t too far
to take the risk, I suppose. If you can get some civvies to fight, I can hardly
say no.”

Mina and David looked at each other and smiled. They
were finally getting the hell out of this city.

Sound carried well across
the dawn waves, which was why the Hatchet’s crew heard Norfolk Naval Station
long before they saw it. The report of gunfire and explosions was an omen none
of them appreciated, and when they came within visual distance, they
encountered the largest collection of military and Coast Guard vessels any of
them had ever witnessed. Frigates and cutters floated alongside monolithic destroyers
and sleek gunships. Guy even spotted an aircraft carrier he was certain was the
USS New Hampshire, not even due to be finished for another eight months.
Completing the fleet were several dozen littoral combat ships and patrol boats—quick
and agile craft with small crews. It was a veritable invasion force, but the
battlefield had come to them.

All the ships in dock were playing host to enemy
forces—those same burned creatures that had attacked New York. They were also
under attack by a second army of animalistic creatures with deadly talons. Guy
watched a massive group of them tear right through the crew of a Hazard Perry class
frigate, like termites through a table leg.

Unlike the attack on New York, this latest enemy
had a clear leader. The giant beast towered above the docks and looked like a
man, but it had the twisted spines of broken wings on its back. A loincloth
covered its waist, but it was otherwise naked. Long golden hair fell across its
muscular shoulders.

An angel acting like a beast.

The giant was so strong that it lifted a petrol
tanker parked on the docks and hurled it. The metal cylinder collided with the
decks of the USS New Hampshire and conflagrated. Burning sailors scattered across
the decks while a scorched hole appeared in the aircraft carrier’s runway. A
helicopter tilted over on its side and fell into the water.

“It’s a massacre,” said Tosco, standing beside Guy
in the pilothouse.

Guy kept the binoculars pressed against his eyes.
“They must have somehow known the Navy was assembling here.”

Frank’s eyes went wide. “You mean they hit us strategically?”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” said Tosco. “There
could be a gate nearby. We need a confirmed list so we know where’s safe and
where’s not.”

It was a good idea so Guy nodded. “Lieutenant, can
you focus on that going forward? Every time we get intel, or an enlisted man
calls home and finds out about an attack, make a note of it and stick it on the
map.”

“Roger that, but what do we do right now though?
Should we retreat?”

Guy studied the battlefield and considered turning
around and leaving, but ended up shaking his head. “I think it’s time for us to
start acting like heroes. Get the big gun ready, Frank. Tosco, get men on the
MGs.”

Tosco left the pilothouse while Frank passed
orders to the ship’s gunner, Petty Officer 3
^rd
Class Carrie Bentley.
The woman got to work, flipping switches and inputting commands at a rate Guy
himself could never hope to match.

“Main gun online,” she said after a few moments.
“Give me a target and it’s gone, sir.”

Guy looked through the binoculars and tried to
figure out where best to strike. The problem was that the battlefield was a
melee; man fought monster at close quarters. There were few places to hit that
would not result in casualties on both sides.

Then he saw his opportunity.

“Hit the big son-of-a-bitch.”

Bentley looked at Guy. “Just to confirm, Captain,
you’re asking me to target that giant, winged, can’t possibly exist,
son-of-a-bitch we’re all looking at right now but can’t quite believe?”

“That’s the one, sailor.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Guy stood behind Frank with a hand on the man’s
shoulder. “Take us in closer, Chief Petty, but not so close that we can get hit
with anything that son-of-a-bitch throws.”

The Hatchet forged ahead, all those standing in
the pilothouse enraptured by what they were seeing. All those on the decks were
busy as bees as they readied weapons and prepared to fight. Every ship lying in
Norfolk’s dock was a war zone, with men being torn apart in their dozens as
they ran out of ammo and could not reload quick enough. The ships lucky enough
to be at sea were relatively safe from the fighting—some were even leaving—but the
enemy snatched assault rifles from dead sailors and fired at them. Anyone not smart
enough to be in cover ran the risk of being peppered with 5.6mm NATO rounds. The
enemy were smart.

It was a massacre.

The giant son-of-a-bitch bellowed and grunted his
commands, directing his creatures like a medieval general. The monsters spread
out over the docks like vermin, devouring everything in their path.

“I have the target locked, Captain,” Bentley
informed him.

“Fire when ready, sailor.”

The ship rocked, and an explosion followed. The
shell was too fast to see in flight, but when it hit the son-of-a-bitch in the
chest, everyone in the pilothouse cheered. Staggering backwards, the giant was
stunned and off balance. A scorch mark on its chest released tendrils of smoke.

Bentley turned in her seat and grinned. “Hit
confirmed, sir.”

“Good work, Bentley.”

The giant roared. It had not toppled, and was in
no way beaten.

“Fire again, sailor.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Bentley let off another shot.

Another direct hit.

Once again, the shell struck the giant squarely in
the centre of its chest. This time, it dropped to one knee, but it was straight
back up again, glancing around until it spotted the Hatchet and understood from
where the shell had fired. It pointed its massive hand and bellowed.

 “Sir, I think we pissed the target off,” came
Bentley. “Permission to shit my pants?”

“Permission granted.”

The giant stomped towards the docks; as it picked
up speed, it glared across the sea at the Hatchet.

“It’ll never reach us,” Frank muttered. “We’re a
half-mile out.”

Guy grunted into his radio. “Tosco, open up the
MGs.”

“Roger that.”

There was an almighty rat-a-tat-tat as the
Hatchet’s
two side-mounted machine guns unleashed on their target. The giant roared and
swiped at the air as if surrounded by flies. It staggered again, but still did
not go down, nor did it even bleed.

Frank had grown pale. “Its flesh must be made of
iron.”

Guy crossed his arms, narrowed his eyes. “Fire
again, Bentley. Take its goddamn head off.”

Bentley loaded up another shell and let rip. The
impact knocked the target’s head back with such force that Guy actually winced.
The giant toppled backwards and fell to the ground, crushing its own minions
beneath it.

The Hatchet’s crew cheered and whooped.

“Eat that!” Bentley shouted in victory.

“Good work,” said Guy, patting her on the back.

Then the giant leapt back up to its feet, so angry
that it kicked a group of its own creatures up into the air like a petulant
child kicking toy soldiers.

Guy swallowed a mouthful of dread. “We can’t kill
this thing.”

“It can’t reach us,” Frank said again.

Silence descended over the pilothouse.

The giant sprinted for the edge of the docks.
There was nowhere to go as the ground ahead disappeared and the water neared, but
it did not slow down. When it reached the end of the dock, it launched itself
into the air and came down right on top of the damaged runway of the USS New
Hampshire. It sprinted down the entire length, knocking aside wounded sailors
and stomping on inert aircraft. Then it leapt onto a nearby frigate. The
smaller ship lurched, tilted, but stayed afloat. The giant kept on running.

“Get us out of here,” Guy barked.
“Full-turn-one-eighty, now!”

Frank took the controls, hustling men out the way.
The ship vibrated as the engines went to max output. Everyone on board held on
to whatever was bolted down.

The giant leapt from the frigate to a smaller
patrol boat that couldn’t bear its weight, so it leapt to another frigate. It would
be right on top of the Hatchet soon, a clear causeway of Navy vessels all the
way.

The horizon panned through the pilothouse window
as the Hatchet turned to port full speed. No large ship could quickly perform a
one-eighty, but Guy was satisfied that his crew was doing it as fast as
possible.

But they were not going to make it.

The giant continued leaping from ship to ship, getting
closer and closer. It would be on them any second, landing right on their decks
and sinking them.

Guy had to do something. “Bentley, load another
shell.”

“And fire?”

“Not until I give the command. Just keep a lock on
the target.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The Hatchet carried on turning.

The giant kept on getting closer.

They were sitting ducks.

“Sir, if we don’t fire soon, the ship will be
pointing in the wrong direction, and I won’t be able to hit the target.”

“Just hold, Bentley.”

“But sir…”

“Hold!”

Several ships sank as they bore the giant’s
weight. Another ten seconds and the son-of-a-bitch would reach the Hatchet and
sink it just the same.

“Sir, I must fire now.”

“No, Bentley,
hold
.”

There was a tense silence. The men in the
pilothouse clenched their fists and waited for the captain’s orders.

The giant let out an almighty roar as it launched
itself from the final stepping-stone, aiming itself right at the Hatchet’s launch
deck.

Guy threw out his fist. “Fire!”

Bentley launched the shell.

It hit the target in the middle of its chest and
spun it in mid-air. The force of the blow had altered the giant’s trajectory
and sent it tumbling into the ocean instead of onto the rear deck of the
Hatchet.

Guy turned to Frank. “Cease turn, full engines
fore.”

The Hatchet sped away.

The giant broke the surface of the water and
roared, but it would never swim fast enough to catch them now, they were headed
in a straight line. They left Norfolk Naval Station ablaze behind them, a hundred
ships sinking to their doom.

“Where to next?” Frank asked once they had some
breathing room. The crow’s feet at the edge of his eyes had extended.

“How are we doing for fuel?” Guy asked.

“Almost empty. We can go about another six-hundred
miles.”

“We need to fill her up. Whatever happens we’ll
need to be on the move. I won’t risk a situation where we need to get somewhere
in a hurry and can’t.”

“There’re refuelling facilities at Norfolk, Captain,
but I guess that’s out.”

“Head down to Cape Fear, Frank. We’ll refuel
there.”

“Aye. It’ll take a few hours.”

“Good, it’ll give us all time to come to terms
with what’s happening, and for Tosco to make a start on that list. Time to find
out the state of our beloved country.”

“Should we contact Command?”

Guy considered his last orders from Command, to head
to Norfolk, and decided his men’s welfare was better left to him. “No, Frank.
Let them contact us.”

***

As Frank had predicted, it
took a few hours to reach Cape Fear, but the region on the eastern coast of
North Carolina was as green and pleasant as ever. The civilian refugees took to
the ship’s railings to look out at the beauty, and it was obvious that for some,
their worries were momentarily forgotten.

The Hatchet hugged the shore on its way down to
the Coast Guard station, and during that time, it became clear that a great
fear had fallen over the various towns and villages. People here were not under
attack, but the country they loved was.

Tosco had compiled a list of confirmed attack
sites, and it made for grim reading:
Jacksonville, Los Angeles, San
Francisco, Anaconda, Memphis, San Diego, Clearwater, Billings, Pittsburgh,
Fresno, Atlanta, Omaha, Tulsa, Newport, Wichita, Seattle, Minneapolis,
Honolulu, Riverside, Newark, Toledo, Irving, Richmond, Sacramento, San Jose,
Norfolk, New York, Des Moines, Brownsville, Peoria, and Elgin.
And the two
that were likely the reason the residents of Cape Fear were so worried:
Charlotte and Raleigh.

There appeared to be no discernible pattern to the
attack locations. Some states had relatively few gates, such as Illinois, where
neither Chicago nor Springfield had been hit. The Prairie State’s biggest
disaster site was Carbondale. California, on the other hand, was staging its
own Armageddon with nearly every major city hit.

Although every bone in his body begged him not to
do it, Guy had allowed his men free access to the radio, telephones, and internet.
All the services were spotty, but it had soon become clear that mankind was at
war. Every radio and television station had devoted itself to news coverage,
but none could seem to agree on what was happening, or what to do about it. The
theory that had the most supporters was that the gates to Hell had opened up and
demons now walked the Earth seeking to destroy humanity. The second most
popular opinion was that aliens were responsible.

It was difficult to draw any conclusions.

The giant the Hatchet had encountered was no
anomaly. There had been sightings of similar winged creatures all over the world—including
one in London where Kyle and Alice were hopefully still alive. Guy prayed they
were. The general assumption was that the giants were Angels of Death come to
smite mankind, but that was adamantly hand-waved by the religious-right who
would hear nothing of it.

Guy hadn’t made up his mind about the truth, but
he decided it would be best to refer to the enemy as demons from now on, for
efficiency’s sake, if nothing else. If the men knew what they were fighting,
they would be less afraid and more focused than if they were battling shadows
and monsters. The fear on board the Hatchet was enough to incite desertion, and
that was something that would need addressing soon. The crew could not be
relied upon if their minds were set on leaving.