The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel (28 page)

~GUY GRANGER~
Atlantic Ocean

The coast of the United
States was three hundred miles behind them, and the vast, blue ocean seemed to
stretch on for eternity. Guy didn’t know what he would find in England, but
there was no doubt in his mind that things would be tough. The U.K. had been hit
as badly as America, but its citizens lacked the freedom to bear arms. The citizens
of the U.K. would have only their bare hands to defend themselves against the
demons. But Alice and Kyle had been with the British Army, as safe as they possibly
could be. There was a chance, and a little hope was all a father needed.

He strode across the launch deck and stood in
front of his old friend, Frank. They had covered his body with the Hatchet’s Star
Spangled Banner and placed him onto a plastic gurney. He had been positioned at
the rear edge of the deck so that he could be slipped off into the sea, where
he belonged.

The men had assembled, a mixture of sailors,
civilians, and a handful of children. Guy wasted no time in addressing them. “Men,
women, and children, the days past have taken their toll, and even a piece of
our souls. The part of us that was innocent is no more, and our days of peace
and pacifism are behind us, replaced by pain and war. You are all a part of
something greater than each of us. Each of you represents humanity’s fighting
spirit. All of you have survived horrors and faced intolerable nightmares. The
human race will survive too, as each of you has survived. This ship is a
weapon, and every man and woman aboard it, a warrior ready to wield it.
Together, we will strike the enemy down and take back our world. We will make
it safe again for our children, and resign this terrible period of history to textbooks
and memory. John F. Kennedy once said, ‘
Mankind must put an end to war
before war puts an end to mankind
’ and that has never been truer than now.
I trust each and every one of you, and I will die to protect you. You must also
be willing to die to protect others. It is not a choice, but a sacred duty. We
are a part of mankind’s army, and we will win back peace. While the blood in our
veins is warm, humanity will keep on fighting.”

A brief cheer rippled through the crowd, but Guy
halted it with the wave of his hand. “For now, we put to rest a great man; a
man who devoted his entire life to serving his country and protecting the
innocent. My oldest friend and a man I will always look up to—Chief Petty Officer
Frank Theodore Jacobs. I would like to read you all a poem that I know Frank
would have liked.” Guy unfolded the piece of paper in his hands and began to
read:

 

“Sunset
and evening star,

And
one clear call for me!

And
may there be no moaning of the bar,

When
I put out to sea,

But
such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too
full for sound and foam,

When
that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns
again home.

 

Twilight
and evening bell,

And
after that the dark!

And
may there be no sadness of farewell,

When
I embark;

 

For
tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place

The
flood may bear me far,

I
hope to see my Pilot face to face

When
I have crost the bar.”

 

After a moments silence, Guy directed the men to
tip Frank into the sea. He didn’t blink until his old friend had disappeared completely
beneath the waves. The reason he shed no tears was because his sadness was
propped up by pride—pride to have served with a man as honourable as Chief
Petty Officer Frank Jacobs.

Eventually, Guy headed to the pilothouse where a
skeleton crew had remained to keep the ship on course. They all saluted him
when he arrived.

Tosco stood at the console, plotting their course.

“Are we all set, Lieutenant?”

Tosco nodded. “The journey should take us about four
days, if we keep a decent speed. We’ve fallen too far south to make it any
quicker.”

“Four days is acceptable. I would like it to be
four minutes, but I’m realistic. Thank you for joining me, Lieutenant.”

Tosco chewed his lip as if he wanted to mention
something. Eventually, he did. “Do you know what you’ll do when we reach
England, Captain? Will you disembark?”

“I’ll decide when we get there.”

“I will stay behind. Perhaps, head back home, if
we can refuel again.”

Guy sighed. He didn’t want to have this
conversation now, but it wasn’t going to go away. “Let me make one thing clear,
Lieutenant. The Hatchet is
my
ship. If you head home, it will be because
I ordered you to, not because you take the ship while I’m off doing other
things. When I find Kyle and Alice, I will be bringing them home, so the
Hatchet
will wait for me to return.”

Tosco looked embarrassed for a moment, then
sniffed loudly and lifted his chin. “I think we both understand this ship is
stolen from the U.S. government. Who it belongs to now is a matter of interpretation.
I want you to find your children, Captain, but the Hatchet cannot sit around
and wait for you. What if you take weeks to return? We all have jobs to do, and
do them we must. Helping to rescue your children is a courtesy, not an
obligation.”

“Be very careful, Lieutenant. I made it clear when
we embarked that anybody coming along would be expected to help me find Alice
and Kyle. Whatever happens afterwards will be my decision.”

Tosco smirked with all the confidence in the
world. “If it comes to a popularity contest, Captain, you’ll lose.”

“Then let’s not make it one. Just do your job, Lieutenant,
and we’ll all get along just fine.”

“I always do my job, Captain, and will continue to
do so.” With that, the disgruntled Lieutenant left the pilothouse, leaving Guy
to endure the sideways glances of his men. He was tired of having the same
conversation with Tosco, but it would eventually come to a head. When it did,
he just hoped he had Alice and Kyle safely in his arms. Then Tosco could do
whatever the hell he liked.

Guy looked out at the Atlantic Ocean and wished he
could stretch his arms out across the vastness and touch his children’s cheeks.
He longed to hold Kyle and Alice so badly that it hurt his chest.
Please let
them be alive,
he prayed.
Just let them be alive.

~DAVID DAVIDS~
Slough, Berkshire

David sat at Mina’s desk
with his laptop open, ready to hit ‘upload’. Corporal Martin just got word from
what was left of British Intelligence that somebody destroyed a gate in Syria
and stopped the demons pouring through. It was hope. But hope was only as good
as the amount you spread it. Closing a gate required a human sacrifice—someone to
jump inside and break some kind of cosmic rule that short-circuited the portals.
Mitchell posited that a living person could not enter Hell, and whoever had
done so in Syria, had been the equivalent of a computer virus, corrupting
whatever code kept the gates open. Typical of Mitchell to use such a technical
metaphor, but what mattered most was the message—that the gates could be
closed. Just so long as a person was prepared to step inside and end their
lives. It would take a brave soul to make such a sacrifice, but David had faith
that there were heroes out there. It was his job to give the world the
opportunity to find them.

Carol tapped him on the shoulder. “What are you waiting
for, David?” She, and everybody else in the office, had gathered in a semi-circle
around him, waiting for him to update the new website with all the information
they had gained so far. News of refugee operations and safe areas, sightings of
enemy armies, and a warning that demons could take human form—like Andras. The
main thing they needed to know was how to close the gates. The gates were the
demons’ means of reinforcements. Closing them would be vital to gain a foothold
in the war.

“I’m just a little nervous,” David explained,
reaching up and adjusting the bandage over his missing eye. The cotton had
stuck to his burned face and made him wince every time he moved. “This could be
the moment the tides change. We hold the information on how to fight back. It’s…
Momentous.

“We’re not the only ones who know,” said Martin.
“British Intelligence is getting word out wherever it can.”

David looked at Mitchell. “How many subscribers
does the website have?”

“Ninety-three thousand.”

David nodded. “Enough to make a difference. Our
entire careers have been about giving people the news, letting them know what
they need to. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m about to achieve
that goal.”

“Just press send, you daft apeth,” Carol urged.

David clicked the mouse and uploaded the website.
Then he sat back and sighed. “It’s done.”

There was silence in the room, and nothing
happened. They hadn’t expected anything right away. The amount of comments on
the website had been tapering even before Andras had deleted it, but there were
still thousands of subscribers who were paying attention. Hopefully, some of them
would make use of the information.

David glanced around the room until he located whom
he wanted. “Corporal Martin, let me know the moment we receive word of any more
gates closing. We need to pray that the one in Syria was not a fluke. We need
to pray that people fight back.”

Martin nodded and got to work. Carol went back to
giving orders, and David just sat there at Mina’s desk. He had just finished
what she had started. He was proud of the work they’d done together.
We did
it, Mina. We got something useful and sent it out, just like you wanted.

Little Alice wandered over to him a couple of
minutes later, carrying a mug of tea. She gave it to him, and he took a sip
through his ruined lips; it was much stronger than before. “You’re getting very
good at making tea, Alice. You were very brave yesterday, when you helped me
fight Andras.”

She nodded, looked afraid, yet brave at the same
time. “He was one of them, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was. You did the right thing. You could
have run away, but instead, you fought. If all people are as brave as you, we’ll
be okay.”

“Kyle didn’t run. He fought.”

David sighed and put his arm around the girl. “I’m
sorry I didn’t get to know the lad better. I think I would have liked him.”

“Mom and dad will be upset when they find out.”

“They still have you, and for that, they will be
grateful, trust me. Is Corporal Martin still trying to reach them?”

“I think he’s busy.”

“Well, I’m sure your mummy and daddy are waiting
to hear from you. We’ll try them again soon.”

Alice looked at him like she didn’t believe it,
but she trotted away obediently. Of all the tragedy David had witnessed, seeing
that little girl lost in a foreign country and watching her brother die was the
saddest. He would do whatever he could to see her reunited with someone who
loved her.

For now, he left his seat and headed out of the
office. He had something to attend to, and was very much looking forward to it.
His face was a ruined mess, and he had witnessed the death of thousands—the man
he had once been was gone, and it was time to do what was needed.

Andras was still tied up when David entered the
storage closet outside in the waiting area. Cleaning supplies and an old floor
buffer had filled it previously, but now, it made the perfect cell for a
paralysed demon.

“Hello, Andras. How are you feeling?”

Andras scowled, both eyes still useless and blind.
“You think you can keep a Marquis of Hell prisoner?”

David chuckled. “In a dirty broom closet, no less.
Such audacity, I never thought I was capable of.”

“I will gut you.”

“Perhaps, but not now, and not today. Today, I get
to be the one doing beastly things to human flesh.”

“There is nothing you can do-”

David pulled the steak knife out of his pocket and
buried it in Andras’s collarbone, making him scream. While the pain was still
fresh, he grabbed a bottle of bleach and emptied it onto the wound. “So
fortunate you still have some feeling left. Makes this a lot more fun.”

Andras squealed like a stuck pig.

“You and I are going to become very well
acquainted, Andras, dear boy. You’re going to tell me all about The Fallen and
the dreadful monsters that serve them.”

Andras grunted, got on top of his pain enough to
curse and swear. “I will never!”

David grabbed the steak knife and pulled it free,
before burying it in Andras left ear. Once it slid in, he twisted it and sliced
the flap of skin in two.

Andras bellowed so loud that it made David flinch,
but it was music to his ears, and he ended up grinning. “Another thing you need
to know about humans, Andras: We don’t cope terribly well with pain. What was
it you said? We’re all so weak and mushy. I am going to teach you all about pain,
one scrap of skin at a time, and for every life that your abominable colleagues
take, I will extract retribution on you. You might have come from Hell, but you
have seen nothing yet. I’m going to be the biggest monster you’ve ever met.”

David got to work, mastering the various ways to
make a human being scream. Even if the demons conquered the world, this one
would pay dearly. If mankind had a chance, they would have to lose a part of
their humanity and become more like the monsters.

Blood covered David within minutes, and he embraced
it.

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