They were going to die here.
Angela’s chanting continued and more demons exploded. As soon as any got close, they erupted like fireworks. She was a one-woman army. An exorcist during a demon invasion.
Ted was in love.
Angela and Ted huddled together, demons failing to get anywhere near them. Angela spoke in tongues, words issuing like a mad rap. She showed no signs of tiring. Maybe she could keep this up forever. Ted caught his breath, safe within the invisible forcefield Angela had somehow put in place. Nothing could touch them.
But then Angela’s words were interrupted.
A chunk of masonry struck her in the centre of her chest and knocked her backwards. She landed in the blood-slick grass, unconscious or dead. Ted tried to reach her, to help her, but a giant hand engulfed him and plucked him from the earth. He felt massive pressure restricting his chest and suddenly couldn’t breathe. His eyes bulged.
Lord Amon lifted Ted twenty feet above the ground and glared at him with an expression of undeniable hatred. Ted spat, but there was too much distance to hit the monster’s face, so he resorted to swearing. “You sorry sack of shit.”
The angel roared, buffeting Ted’s face with hot, putrid air. He turned his head to protect his eyes and caught a glimpse of Angela down below. She was alive and dragging herself along the ground. The demons would finish her soon.
Ted was the last man standing at Kielder. It felt right somehow. A captain going down with his ship. The pressure in his chest increased. Lord Amon must have been enjoying the sight of his life slowly leaving him, but he wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him scared. He looked up into the sky, wanting to see that beautiful tangelo sky one last time before he died.
What he saw was beyond words.
Four blackbirds fell from the sky – mortar shells plummeting towards the castle at a hundred miles an hour. Ted cackled, and he didn’t stop for three whole seconds. Then the world became fire.
Mass headed for the walls that surrounded the well-lit military docks. Several guard towers had been erected in the last year, and vans and lorries were parked end to end in the longer sections, providing a second skin and flat roofs to fire from. In the city itself, people barricaded themselves inside old buildings or on rooftops, the entrances cluttered with whatever they had been able to find. With so much of the population having left with Thomas, the defences seemed sparsely populated. The various searchlights and campfires only highlighted the lack of manpower. Fifteen thousand people was a lot less than it sounded, especially when the number included the young, the elderly, and the incapable.
Wanstead had followed Mass outside with his guards. The colonel looked around now as officers and sergeants hurried towards him. He put a hand in the air to get everyone’s attention. “This is it, gentlemen. We are the last bastion of mankind, and our enemy is here to have at us. You have your duties, so gather your teams and hop to it.”
The officers and guards scattered, all apparently knowing what to do. At least Thomas had drilled them well. Or maybe it had been Wanstead.
Mass turned to his own team. “Smithy, you stick with me. Addy, go find out where Cullen is and tell him join back with us here. Damien, you…”
“I’ll do what I want,” said Damien.
Mass nodded. “Yeah, you do that. Okay, the rest of us, let’s get to work.”
“It sounds like we’re being attacked on all fronts,” said Wanstead, shaking his head in disgust, which was far better than despair. “No matter what we do, it’s going to spread us thin. I’ll call in the guns.”
“There are people living in the ruins,” said Mass. “We can’t risk killing them.”
Wanstead chuckled. “You’ve been away too long, Mr Mass. Thomas set up several bombardment zones. Civilians have been moved out of the areas and we used abandoned vehicles to form a funnel into those zones. If the bastards have come in force, I guarantee there’ll be hundreds of them standing right on top of our big, invisible Xs.”
Mass hadn’t considered that Thomas could have been competent, but it appeared that he was. It was a relief to hear that thought had been put into Portsmouth’s defences. “Okay, do it, Colonel. What are you waiting for?”
“Well, not your approval, certainly.” Wanstead produced a radio and called in the order. Then he turned back to Mass. “Now we wait.”
It took about fifteen seconds, but it felt longer, as Mass stood silently watching the sky. All the while, gunfire lit up the dark pockets of Portsmouth. The twin streaks that eventually cut a path through the stars were beautiful, more so because of the colossal destruction they brought with them. The resulting whoosh of air reached them a full second before a flash of fire lit up the distance. The inferno grew, lighting up the whole of Portsmouth. For a brief moment it was daylight, and Mass saw the frightened soldiers on the battlements, all waging their own private wars.
“I’m going to go get involved,” said Damien. “I’ll catch you guys later.”
Smithy lifted his shotgun and was unable to keep it from shaking. He looked at Mass. “What’s the plan, boss?”
“I haven’t seen you afraid before, Smithy. You good?”
“It just hits you, don’t it? One minute you’re coping, and then the next it’s all just too much. I’ve got this feeling like I’m… like I’m looking down on myself, and I’m like… fuck, it’s the end of the world and I’m about to go to war with demons. How do you wrap your head around that?”
Mass put a hand on the lad’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “By sticking close to your mates and remembering
