Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga by Iain Rob Wright

Author:Iain Rob Wright [Wright, Iain Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SalGad Publishing Group
Published: 2017-01-11T00:00:00+00:00

Vamps’s arms were numb by the time he was led inside the warehouse at the back of the theatre district. His blond captor had shoved his hands so far up behind his back that he could scratch his own head.

They were now inside some kind of prop factory. Mannequins stood before massive wooden backdrops. Pretend cars parked beside plywood furniture and cabinets. One wall was almost entirely lined with masks, including one that looked an awful lot like Shrek.

“You better hope I don’t get another shot at you,” Mass told the brunette cronie, who now sported a rather severe black eye.

Ginge and Ravy were silent, afraid. Instinctively, they moved together.

The blond prodded Vamps in the back with his gun. “In here!”

Vamps staggered into a cage full of people, perhaps two dozen. It was meant to be a storage cage for the warehouse stock, but it had been turned into a prison. Those inside all wore blank expressions. A young woman in the corner had pissed herself, sitting with her bare feet in the puddle.

Mass went in behind Vamps. The door swung shut and locked them in. Their two jailors left.

“I’m going to kick the shit out of those fuckers,” said Mass, smashing his fist against the cage and making the whole thing rattle.

“Chill out,” said Ravy. “You’re going to bring them back.”

“Good! You think I want to rot in here? They best come back so I can snap their necks.”

Ravy folded his arms. “Look, man. We alive. Let’s just be grateful right now. I’m tired of this shit. I want to see my family again one day.”

Vamps said nothing. His ankle was swollen and causing him pain, but it kept him lucid. He looked around at his new companions and saw they had been frightened beyond the point of usefulness. These weren’t gangsters from Brixton or hooligans from West Ham. They were city workers and shoppers—ordinary people used to worrying about car tax and mortgage payments, not demon invasions or being locked up. Come to think of it, who on earth really was ready for this shit?

Ginge pressed his forehead up against the cage and started panting. His cheeks grew bright red, but his clammy forehead looked like it had been rubbed with chalk.

Vamps patted his friend on the back. “We’ll be okay, man. I promise.”

Ginge sighed, keeping his head pressed up against the cage. “We should have made a run for it like everybody else. What the hell were we doing?”

“We were doing what was right. Hold your head high because we didn’t run.”

Ravy joined in. “Yeah, Ginge. You a gangster. For real. The only reason I stuck around was because you did. I was like, if Ginge has got the balls to face this, then so do I.”

Vamps patted him on the back again. “Be proud, man.”

Ginge sighed. “How can I be proud when I wanted to run the whole time? It’s only because you and Mass were so down with sticking around that I didn’t have a choice.

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