“I-I read this thing about Godzilla once,” said Smithy, a hand over his mouth in an expression of shock. “It said gravity makes giant creatures impossible because they would be too heavy to move their own limbs. What a crock of shit. Look at that thing.”
“It’s Crimolok,” said Rick in a voice devoid of emotion besides an underlying, loathsome hatred. “The fiend has escaped its mortal prison and arrived in its true form. We are not prepared for this confrontation.”
“No shit,” said Smithy. “That thing’s ball sack could crush a Ford Fiesta. We need to get the hell out of here.”
The magnitude of what Mass had done rooted him to the spot. How many people had he doomed, or at the very least endangered, with his actions? This monstrosity had arrived because of him. Because he had freed his friend Vamps.
Was this what you were holding onto? This is the thing that was tearing you apart from the inside?
The ground shook with every step the giant took. The trees swayed. Hedges rustled. Birds fled. Demons swarmed into view. The monster had brought an army.
Smithy grabbed Mass by his biceps. “Come on, man. We need to get out of here. Must go faster, yeah?”
The group got moving, each of them sprinting down the road despite their exhaustion. The ground shook like the surface of a drum. The wild screeching of murder-thirsty demons filled the air, getting closer. Portsmouth had never felt so far away.
“Into the hedges,” shouted Addy, hustling the women along. “We need to lose them.”
Mass nodded. “Everyone, move!”
The demons were three hundred metres away, but gaining fast. The primates at the front of the pack were too quick to outrun over long distances. Addy was right, their only chance was losing the demons in the hedges, but even that might not be enough. They were thin, merely a border between the road and adjacent fields. In the distance there seemed to be some kind of industrial yard, with cranes and heavy machinery, but they would never make it there in time.
“Damn it!” Tox looked around frantically and picked up a fallen tree branch. It wouldn’t save his life, but at least he could go down swinging. The first demons broke through the hedges and entered the field, whipping up a whirlwind of twigs and crunching leaves.
Mass started gathering the others. “Everyone, group together. Maria, get the women behind us.”
“We’re fucked,” said Tox. “Every time it looks like we might catch a breather, things get worse.”
“Keep calm,” said Rick.
“And carry on,” said Smithy.
Mass planted his feet and prepared to meet the enemy. “When has it ever been different, Tox? Life was a marathon with two broken legs and a bent neck before the demons even got here. I’ve been fighting my entire life.”
“If the world has always been shitty,” said Smithy, “what’s the point of trying to save it?”
Mass eyed the hedges, waiting for more enemies to emerge. “Because for every piece-of-shit drug dealer and gangbanger that used to be on the estate, there was a Mrs Gardner or a Mr Zebrowski.”
Smithy raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t they Postman Pat characters?”
“Mrs Gardner was my Year Nine English teacher, who sat with me during detention and finally taught me how to read like all the other kids. Mr Zebrowski was the window cleaner on our estate. Whenever he saw me getting my ass handed to me, he would step in and chase the fuckers off, even though he was just this skinny Polish dude that barely spoke any English. He taught me what bravery was – risking yourself to help someone when you could just as easily look away. Those are the people I’m fighting for, Smithy. You feel me?”
Smithy nodded, serious for once. “Yeah, man, I feel you. For Mr Zebrowski, right?”
Mass gave his friend a fist bump and prepared to meet his fate. The demons broke through the hedges, ferocious and unstoppable.
Rick stepped forward and threw up a hand. A primate made a beeline for Tox, but then it folded in on itself, its malformed spine arching backwards and snapping. A plume of jet-black smoke erupted from its mouth and spiralled upwards, knocking aside branches and leaves like it had physical substance. Then Rick swept his arm horizontally and summoned a gale, sweeping everything up in its path. Half a dozen demons went tumbling through the air.
Rick glanced back at his companions. “I shall hold them here while you make it back to the road and escape. It is unlikely to work, but I will do my best.”
Smithy shook his head. “Man, you’re insane. You can’t fight them all on your—”
Rick’s eyes crackled, and something akin to electricity flowed through them. “Go or die!”
Another wave of demons crashed into the field. Rick threw out both hands, causing the demons to twist and transform into black vapour. Hundreds more came. Mass ordered everyone back to the road, giving Rick one last glance before bolting. The strange man was busy conducting a supernatural orchestra, hands directing back and forth.
What the hell is he? He’s not human.
I don’t even think he’s Rick.
They were back on the road in seconds, while the demons continued swarming into the trees, not realising their prey had changed its course. Miraculously, the road was clear, and the only visible threat was the gigantic monstrosity stomping along the horizon. Its casualness was its weakness. If it hurried, it would’ve spotted their retreat.
Mass urged everyone to run, and they didn’t need convincing. The road was long and straight, which was less ideal than a twisty one with branching paths. It meant that even after outdistancing Crimolok by a quarter-mile, they still weren’t in the clear.
A primate spotted their retreat. It spilled out of the trees and
