Road to Hell by Peter Cawdron

Author:Peter Cawdron [Cawdron, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Detective
ISBN: 9781465840059
Publisher: Peter Cawdron
Published: 2011-06-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: Night Watch

“Where the hell is she?” Harrison muttered to himself.

He didn’t like this. They shouldn’t be here. They needed to get to Rosie’s. They didn’t need to be here at all, he felt. And it wasn’t just the fact they were in a cemetery that spooked him, it was that they’d departed from the plan.

Harrison wasn’t fearful in a superstitious sense. He never expected the dead to rise out of the graves as zombies or for a vampire to jump out at him or anything silly like that. But they were off the beaten track, they were isolated and exposed. Anyone could have been out there, hidden in the darkness waiting to strike.

The soil felt soft underfoot, the ground was a little muddy. A light mist rose up from the damp grass. The day had been warm, but the temperature had plummeted with night fall and a chill hung in the air. A fog had formed, sitting low over the gravestones.

Harrison looked around for Susan as he moved between the rows of old graves. The headstones would provide excellent cover in a fire fight from in front, he thought, but they would be a death trap if someone fired sideways down the rows, and for two reasons. Firstly, he reasoned, there wouldn’t be any real cover from the sides. Secondly, although the plasma rounds would be absorbed by any roughhewn gravestones they would probably ricochet off the polished marble head pieces and that would concentrate the fire into a channel. Realising that, he tried to be more aware of his periphery vision rather than just looking straight ahead. And besides, thinking tactically about his position helped stave off any irrational sense of fear.

Harrison raised the stock of his blaster to his lips and whispered. His breath condensed into a fine soft white mist as he spoke.

“Plasma rounds, double tap.”

The dim charge light on the side of the gun blinked in acknowledgement of the instruction. If it came to it, he’d give as good as he got.

The crypts lay at the back of the cemetery, in the old sector, dating from before the war. Slowly, the low headstones were replaced with statues of angels and obelisks reaching up eight to ten feet in height, casting long, dark shadows on the ground. The moon cast an eerie glow over the graves. The damp cold seemed to seep into his bones. Damn, this is creepy, he thought. But apparently, this was where the daemon had gone to ground.

Where the hell had Susan gone?

The fog swirled around his feet. The leaves in the trees rustled in the soft breeze, casting a moving shadow on the ground around him. Who’s goddamn idea was this anyway? He asked himself, hating every moment, his heart racing.

Harrison checked the charge indicator on the side of his blaster for the fifth time. Still green. Like it would be any different, he thought. He approach the crypts cautiously, his eyes struggling to make out any distinct shapes in the grainy half-light.

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