He eased her back and studied her face, knowing it might be the last time. “I love you, Nancy.”
4
Crimolok senses the warm flesh cowering inside the tower. That such worthless creatures have survived so long is one of God’s so-called miracles. It would be undone now.
The human structure reaches as high as Crimolok’s middle, an ugly grey block with blacked-out windows framed in rotting wood. It yields easily to his massive fist, bricks and steel showering the ground below. A second impact removes the roof entirely.
The screaming begins. If ever there was a sound so pure, it is the screaming of tortured cattle. Human faces appear at the windows, distorted with terror. Some leak out of the tower’s base but are dealt with by Crimolok’s legions. His demonic foot soldiers leap upon the fleeing humans and tear flesh from bone as they babble in agony.
Crimolok hammers his massive fist on top of the crumbling tower, smashing apart a floor section and the rooms beneath. He uncovers more humans, hiding like lice beneath a rock. Many are already bleeding to death, crushed by debris, but those attempting to flee are still his to enjoy. He plucks a breasted human into the air and pulls off its legs, then tosses the torso with its flailing arms to the ground thirty feet below. His legions devour what’s left.
Boredom soon arrives. Crimolok raises a foot and stamps on what remains of the structure. It explodes in all directions – glass, wood, steel, and flesh. A fun distraction, but merely a stopping point on route to his destination. Blood will flow through the streets of Portsmouth. Humanity will reach its end.
Crimolok sneers, spotting a human hiding behind a large red vehicle. It calls out for God’s mercy as Crimolok crushes it into dust.
Tony assembled the soldiers General Thomas had allocated him and tried to hide his distaste. They were ambitious young men who would do whatever it took to gain favour. He didn’t trust any of them, which made it all the better that he’d arranged his own protection. Known only to him, a dozen Urban Vampires were going to join them on the road. Mass’s people were still loyal to General Wickstaff, even in her memory, and Tony wanted to get them out of the city before Thomas turned his wrath on them. Tony’s allocated team would bristle at the unexpected arrivals, but the Urban Vampire’s current leader, Cullen, had a story prepared. He’d claim to be looking for Mass too, and while Tony would act suspicious at first, he would eventually have no choice but to accept the additional manpower.
It’ll be tense, but it’ll work. At least, I sodding hope so.
The hard part would come if they discovered Mass alive. Tony had strict orders to kill Wickstaff’s most decorated soldier, but no way was he going to do it. He refused to kill an innocent man just to solidify Thomas’s illegitimate claim on Portsmouth.
Tony checked his ammo pouches, ensuring he had enough clips and magazines. He also filled a hip bag with loose rounds to make sure he had enough ammunition to obliterate anything he might encounter. He still carried the worn SA80 he’d had since leaving the US Air Force base in Turkey. It hadn’t let him down yet. To think his journey had started a year ago on the Iraq–Syrian border, only to end up back home in England. He’d never expected to ever have to fight on home soil.
Tony’s men assembled in a line and snapped to attention. Tony turned to see General Thomas approaching in full army dress – medals and all. The skeletal-faced old man marched across the tarmac on the outskirts of the docks, toecaps tapping an ominous rhythm. The regimented click-clack was a sound Tony had once enjoyed, but today it felt like a ticking clock.
Tony stood to attention and saluted just lazily enough not to get reprimanded. Thomas returned the salute and stomped to a halt mere inches away, close enough to make Tony uncomfortable. “Colonel Cross, are you ready to depart?”
“Yes, sir! The men are kitted out and mission ready.”
“And what about you, Colonel?”
Tony frowned. “Sir?”
“Are you ready to carry out your orders?”
“I understand what needs to be done, sir.”
General Thomas stood in silence, studying Tony’s face. When Tony refused to give anything away, Thomas relented. “You’re a good man, Colonel, which is why I have provided you the very best men Portsmouth can spare. This mission must succeed, and I have the utmost confidence I can trust you to do the job. Your service to me these last few months has been invaluable and you shall be properly rewarded upon your return.”
Tony nodded curtly. Thomas’s subtle attempt at bribery meant nothing to him. As a colonel, Tony was already several tiers higher than he’d ever planned to be. All he desired now was the chance to sleep a night in peace. His head was so full of nightmares that he wondered how he even managed to keep sane. “Thank you, sir. I’m grateful.”
General Thomas saluted. “Then you should get going. Sooner you leave, sooner you get back.”
Tony turned to his men, still standing at attention. “You heard the General. On the double. Move, move, move!”
The men formed pairs and marched towards the defensive wall that ringed the docklands. Tony snapped off a departing salute to General Thomas and joined them. He didn’t look back, but he felt the old man’s stare. Thomas didn’t trust him, which meant the twelve men he’d sent would have orders to shoot Tony if he did anything off the books – maybe even if he followed his orders to the letter. It was only because Thomas lacked concrete evidence of Tony helping Maddy escape the city that he didn’t just hang him. He couldn’t deal with the PR disaster that would follow a colonel’s execution one week after the death of a ranking general. Thomas was a despot dressed in democratic robes. He
