Wickstaff nodded. “The demons will be back. This was just the start of something. We need to be ready.”

  “And we will be.”

  Wickstaff blinked slowly and waved a hand wearily. “But not until I’ve had some sleep. Good morning to you, General Thomas.”

  “And you, General Wickstaff.”

  Wickstaff started heading back towards the port authority building but then she stopped. She looked back at Maddy and frowned. “Maddy, could you accompany me, please? There are things I would like to discuss.”

  Maddy tried to keep from grinning. Butterflies in her stomach took flight and almost lifted her off the ground. She hurried after Wickstaff – Amanda – and tried to ignore the confused stare of Commander Tosco as she passed by.

  What must he think?

  Who cares? The world could end tomorrow.

  While the demons were busy, Mass told everyone to get to work. If they remained in the barn, they would be surrounded until they ran out of ammo. Then the demons would come in and tear them apart. No, if they had any chance of surviving, it would be by getting the hell off this farm once and for all. Smithy agreed. He had no intention of staying inside the barn with Gemma’s dead body.

  The odds were still heavily against them though.

  The coach outside was surrounded by demons, which was the only reason Smithy and the others were able to move out of the barn. Day had arrived, which meant the cover of darkness was gone. It took only a moment for the mass of demons to remove their focus from the coach.

  “Here we go,” said Tox.

  “Let’s make some demon salsa,” said Smithy.

  “That’s disgusting,” said Addy. “I like it.”

  Crimolok towered over the demons, body somehow now contorted to eight-feet tall at least. He stood motionless, allowing them to flow around him. If Mass still intended on taking him prisoner, there would be twenty demons to get through first.

  “We make our way to the containers,” said Mass. “Don’t fire unless you have to. We can’t waste a single round.”

  “I don’t have any rounds,” said Addy. “I put my last one in Gemma’s face.”

  “I’ve got about half a… clippy thing left,” Smithy said, wondering if the demons would line up for him so he could shoot them in batches.

  Mass sighed. “Use what you have. Don’t quit.”

  Smithy aimed, sighting a burnt man staggering away from the coach. The burnt men were manageable one at a time. Weak and clumsy, their bodies burnt and broken. More than a couple at once, though, and they could make life very hard, and death very easy. Smithy spotted only three primates amongst the pack, which was good news at least. Most had attacked the house last night, which meant many had already fallen.

  Mass turned to Smithy and shouted out a warning. Smithy spun to see a demon racing towards him. He was about to pull the trigger, but then he realised it wasn’t a threat. “It’s okay, it’s just Dave.”

  But the little demon didn’t stop running, even when he should have stopped and spoken. Smithy backed up, then realised the demon intended to tackle him.

  “Dave, what are you—”

  The tiny demon leapt at Smithy, a fleshy cannonball hitting him in the guts. He was too small to knock Smithy off his feet, but it knocked the wind from him.

  Mass lifted his shotgun but didn’t fire. “What do you want me to do, Smithy?”

  “Don’t shoot.”

  David was growling. He circled Smithy, spitting and gnashing his broken teeth.

  Smithy put out a hand. “Dave, it’s me. It’s Smithy. You don’t want to do this. This isn’t you.”

  “Dave kill. Kill, yes, humans.”

  “No. No, you’re my friend. This is Crimolok trying to control you. He’s just… He’s…” Smithy glanced around towards the demons that were approaching fast. Crimolok stared through their numbers, looking right at Smithy with a smirk. Smithy turned back to David. “You and me are friends, Dave, but if you need to hurt me, then go on.”

  David snarled and approached cautiously, as if wary of being tricked. He began to thrash his head back and forth, getting more and more worked up. It didn’t seem like the demon was listening. Smithy remained standing there but was anxiously aware of the other demons approaching. Mass and the others got ready to meet them.

  “Come on, Dave,” said Smithy, beginning to think this wasn’t going to work. “It’s me. Please don’t hurt me.”

  David hissed and rushed forward. Smithy brought his handgun up.

  Mass and the others fired their weapons.

  David leapt up and tackled a burnt man that had been about to collide with Smithy. Being clumsy, the burnt man tripped and fell to the ground, where David proceeded to tear its throat out with his tiny claws. Afterwards, he looked up at Smithy with sadness in his eyes. “David bad.”

  Smithy shook his head. “No, Dave good. Come on.”

  Mass took up the front, and the group moved towards the paddock with the containers. They kept the burnt men at bay through speed alone, as they were incapable of moving faster than a stumble. A quicker threat was approaching though.

  Smithy planted his feet and fired at the advancing primates, but they moved so quickly that he missed his first two shots. Soon he would be empty, so he decided not to waste any more rounds unless he knew for sure that it was worth it. He remained standing with his legs apart, handgun pointed ahead – and he waited. Waited.

  The first of the three advancing primates broke from its mates and made a beeline for Smithy. It was close enough for Smithy to see the malice in its eyes, the flesh between its teeth. It picked up speed, a galloping beast that would not be stopped.

  Smithy’s hands were shaking, and he fought to keep his arms raised. He closed one eye – then both eyes – and pulled the trigger. Smithy opened his eyes again and saw the primate tumbling towards him, burning off the momentum of its charge. It came to rest only inches from his feet. A bullet hole smoked between its eyes.

  Smithy gasped. “I am awesome.”

  The horde of demons were following Mass, Addy, and Tox, which left Smithy and David slightly removed from the fray. The demons had obviously assumed the primate would have been enough to take care of him and had kept their attention on the remaining prey. If Smithy wanted to, he could have probably made a run for it in the other direction and made it out of there. His hammering heart told him to do just that, as did a large part of his mind – but there was something inside of him that just would not let that happen. He wasn’t running out on the others.

  But he did intend on running.

  The demons had moved away from the coach and were getting further and further away as they stalked after Mass and the others. It was right there, unattended. Smithy looked down at David and grinned. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  David licked his cracked lips and blinked. “Day bright. Is nice?”

  “Yes, it is, my little friend. The day is bright. Do you sense Crimolok? Where is he?” The arch demon was conspicuously absent and Smithy couldn’t see him with the other demons nor by the coach where he had been previously.

  David placed two rotting index fingers against his temples and closed his eyes. “He is close.”

  Smithy squeezed the grip on his handgun, reminding himself it was there. There was no sign of Crimolok, and only one place to go. He sprinted towards the coach, knowing this would be the only chance to make it on board. Eventually the demons would spot him out in the open and turn their attack on him. Maybe after Mass and the others were dead. He didn’t intend to see that happen though.

  When he reached the side of the coach, he felt like he was about to get pranked. It couldn’t be this easy, could it? Then he realised his big mistake. Mass had Gemma’s key to the coach. “Damn it.” He punched the door, and it rattled and slid an inch to the side.

  “Your wagon is open,” said David.

  Smithy poked a hand into the gap and slid the door all the way clear. “Yeah, looks like it. Do you think this is too good to be true?”

  David hopped up onto the bus and went into the aisle. He didn’t alert Smithy to any danger, so he tested his luck further and went up to the driver’s seat. There was blood on the steering wheel, and the windscreen was cracked. Maybe they’d managed to hit Nas with one of their shots. Maybe he had hurt himself when the bus had skidded. Whatever had happened, there was no sign of the hook-handed bastard – but his keys were still in the ignition. Smithy turned them and the engine rumbled to life.

  David yelped. “Wagon is angry.”

  “It’s just the engine, Dave. Have you never… Yeah, I suppose this is your first time on a bus. It’s okay. The wagon makes a noise, but it’s okay.”

  David nodded. “Is okay. I sit down.”

  “Yeah, I would do that, because I’m about to take this thing for a spin.”

  David moved up to the front seat directly behind Smithy, peering through the windows in fascination as the coach trundled forward in first gear. Smithy had never driven a bus before, and he was pretty sure you needed a separate licence. As it was, he swung the large vehicle around in a wide berth, worrying that he might smash into the various outbuildings and equipment lying around the fields. Several times the coach hopped up over debris or crashed down into ruts. Even at five miles per hour the journey was heavy going.

  Smithy turned the large steering wheel until he saw the mass of demons through the cracked windscreen. There was no sign of Mass or the others, but he hoped with all his heart that they were still putting up a fight.

  Just hold on, guys, because the cavalry is on the way.

  Smithy stamped down on the accelerator at the exact same time that a sharp hook pressed down against his jugular.

  “Turn this coach around,” said Nas, whispering right into Smithy’s ear. “Or I’ll slice your throat.”

  Mass, Tox, and Addy made it into the paddock where the containers were. They were still locked. Were all those women still inside?

  “Addy, get these containers open. I hate to say it, but if there’s anyone alive in there, they need to help us fight.”

  Tox raised his shotgun. “My last shell. Wish me luck!”

  Mass grunted. “Good luck!”

  Tox took the shot and hit a burnt man in the chest. It was enough to drop the thing to the ground.

  “I’m out too,” said Mass, now holding Honeywell’s shotgun like a baseball bat. “Smithy, how ’bout you? Smithy?”

  Tox looked around and then frowned. “Shit, where is he? Did they get him?”

  Mass ground his teeth and cursed. “Goddamn it.”

  The demons finally caught up to them. Tox dropped the first by ramming his knife into its skull. He pulled it out again, but it took effort, and by the time he did, another burnt man had grabbed him from the side.

  Mass swung his shotgun and cracked it off the face of a burnt man wearing a ragged apron. You didn’t see many of them in outfits, and he wondered if the man had once been a butcher. He didn’t think about it for long because there was a primate eying him from the pack. Honeywell’s shotgun had shattered, the stock barely attached to the barrel, so he threw it to the grass and beckoned the creature with both hands. “Come on, you chimp-ass motherfucker.”

  The primate leapt and Mass caught it against his chest. The thing was heavy and strong, and it took all the strength he had to stay on his feet. He grabbed its arms to keep its talons from slicing him, and he rolled his head back and forth to avoid its teeth. Behind him, the sound of metal hinges was interrupted by Addy’s barking voice. “Okay, ladies, grab whatever isn’t tied down. If you ain’t out of this box in three seconds fighting for your life, then you’re going to be eaten alive. Come on! Move!”

  Mass dared a glance to his right where he saw Tox bringing up his knife and slicing the throat of the burnt man he was fighting with. Then he kicked another that was too close and sent it back into the pack. He saw Mass was in trouble, trying to stay alive against the attacking primate, and he came right over. He raised his knife and planted it in the demon’s back. It screeched so loud that Mass’s temples throbbed. To shut it up, he grabbed the broken shotgun stock off the ground and planted the splintered end right into its open jaws, shoving it down past all resistance until it was buried deep. The primate toppled over dead.

  The women spilled out of the containers, some holding weapons, others making a run for it. Tox, Addy, and Mass moved closer, barely armed and barely standing. More than a dozen demons still approached. It was hopeless. They couldn’t kill that many demons with their bare hands. Unless…

  “Get inside the containers,” Mass shouted. “Back up inside and form a wall. Whoever has anything sharp, make yourself known.”

  Addy ushered the women back inside the containers. The few who had run for it were now screaming as the demons broke off and took them down, tearing into their backs and ripping out their spines. It was their own fault. The only people who got to live during the apocalypse were those willing to stand and fight.

  Mass grabbed a broken mop handle from one of the women. Addy and Tox both had their knives. The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder in the opening on the container, restricting the demon’s abilities to surround them. The burnt men were forced to attack in pairs and threes, which allowed Mass, Tox, and Addy to fight them one on one. They took down the first three easily, throwing the burnt corpses to the ground and making it even more difficult for the remaining demons.

  Maybe they could do this.

  Mass turned to Addy, “Are all the women free?”

  “No, there’s another six chained up at the back. Who knows how many are in the other container.”

  “Get them free. We need everyone ready to go if a chance comes along. Remember the code? It’s 1-1-3-4.”

  Addy broke from the front of the container and shoved through the women to the back of the container. A few seconds later, she swore. Then she swore again. “It’s not right. 1-1-3-4?”

  Mas shouted back over his shoulder. “Yeah. 1-1-3-4.”

  “It’s wrong.”

  Tox started shaking his head and laughing, even as he lashed out and tried to slice a burnt man with his knife. “The bitch gave us the wrong number. Wow, she was really something, huh?”

  Mass groaned. Running was still their best option if the chance arose, but how could they do that if it meant leaving half a dozen innocent women to starve to death in a metal box? Not that there would even be a chance to run now that they were backed up inside the container. The demons still outnumbered them, and his legs were now trembling as if they were empty of blood. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

  Tox kicked a burnt man back and slipped. He fell to one knee and then rose slowly. “I… I can’t keep going much longer. My body is giving up on me.”

  Mass threw a sluggish punch at another burnt man and also slipped. His legs were so numb. “I know. Just… Just keep fighting until you can’t any more.”

  Addy rejoined them at the front, ramming her knife into a demon’s skull. It twisted and fell, taking her blade with it. She groaned and raised her fists. “Shit! Now I’m bound to break a nail.”

  The demons parted and Vamps appeared in their centre. No, thought Mass. Not Vamps. Vamps is gone. This is a monster. Crimolok.

  Knowing he had neither the strength nor stamina to get out of there alive, Mass tried and go down with a win. He burst out of the container and rushed at Crimolok, planning to tear the monster’s eyes out and leave it blind and defenceless. Maybe that would give someone else a chance to deal with him.

  Before Mass could make it even halfway, the demons closed in on both sides, crashing down on him like the Red Sea. He got struck from all sides and fell to the ground, covering himself and praying for a miracle.

  I tried my best.

  The demons didn’t tear him apart. Crimolok moved forward and stood over him, laughing. “Your friend cries out for you. He begs you to end his pain.”

  Mass lifted his head, stared at the monster wearing Vamps’ face. “Fuck you.”

  “Come on, don’t you want to use your last breath to try to save him? Try to kill me, worm. Amuse me.”

  “That’s what you want. No, you can rot inside my friend’s body. He might be in pain, but I know Vamps will be pissing himself laughing knowing you can’t do a goddamn thing to get free.”

  The growling was low and guttural, and Mass felt it in his chest. At first he thought it was coming from Crimolok, but it was further away. And getting closer. He didn’t realise what it was until the very last moment.

  Oh shit!

  Mass clambered up and threw himself back towards the containers. He turned just enough to see a large coach ram into the mob of demons and send them flying. Several fell, crushed underneath the tyres. Crimolok disappeared from view, lost in the chaos. Had he been hit? Killed? What would happen if he had been?

  The coach skidded to a stop, barely missing Mass’s outstretched legs. He shuffled back on his butt and flinched when hands grabbed him from behind. Addy and Tox were still alive. They had him.

  “It’s Smithy,” said Tox, beaming. “I really love that kid. Let’s get on board.”

  The door to the coach slid aside and Smithy appeared on the step. He didn’t look glad to see them. In fact, he looked dismayed. Someone poked him in the back and said, “Move!”

  Smithy stepped off the coach, revealing Nas and a shotgun behind him. “He wants the girls,” Smithy explained. “If we put the girls on the bus, he won’t hurt any of us.”

  Mass was too weak to do anything. He had an arm around both Tox and Addy, and he couldn’t let go. “Do you not see what a monster you are? Cam told me you used to be a good man. A father.”

  Nas flinched. “You do not talk of such things. My journey along God’s path has been difficult for a reason. Only through loss can we understand true strength.”

  “Then I should be strong enough to crush you,” said Mass. “And you can be sure that I will. I won’t let you get away with this.”

 

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