Demon Gate: Beyond the 9th Circle: The Rapture Was Just The Beginning. (5 page)

A brief but meaningful service was held
for Lester as his severed arm was buried behind
the power station. After the service, Spencer
walked to his car, put his hands atop it, and stared
down at the ground.

“Are you okay?” Gretchen asked.
Spencer remained silent for a split second. “Are
we just postponing the inevitable?”

Spencer asked.
Gretchen momentarily thought back to
her stay in Dunn North Carolina, and her meeting
Spencer. She was about to answer when
something on Spencer’s back seat caught their
attention. It was a book, but not just any book; it
was his Bible. Spencer reached into the back seat,
grabbed the volume of scripture, and felt
compelled to look within its pages. The first
verse he came to was in Proverbs 3:5-6. “Trust in
the Lord with all thine heart and lead not into
thine own understanding. In all thy ways
acknowledge him…and he shall direct thy path.”
Spencer looked up from the biblical
pages. “Get in the car. It’s time to go.”
“Spencer?”
Spencer paused and looks to Gretchen. “If
it is the will of God that we die, then I’m going
down fighting.”
Spencer went to check on Louis and
found him by the bed of his truck. He was
holding a hand grenade, a finger latched onto the
pin.
“Louis, what are you doing?” Spencer
demanded, concern bubbling to the surface.
“I can’t go on anymore.” Louis replied
indolently, staring at the grenade in his hand.
“That’s crazy talk. Once we get to
Prescott we’re going to find an army of survivors
ready to take the fight to the demons of Hell, and
avenge your friend.” Spencer compassionately
explained.
Louis turned on Spencer incensed.
“Lester wasn’t just my friend, he was my
brother.” Louis snapped.
Spencer flushed with embarrassment. .
“A lot of people were killed this week. I
lost a friend that was like a brother. I’m sure
everybody I ever knew is dead. You’re still alive,
but if you want to throw in the towel fine, go die
in the trees. But I’m not giving up.” Spencer said
before he turned to walk away.
Spencer got twenty yards before he heard
the chink of the pin leaving the grenade and the
spoon popping. It was just a few seconds before
the grenade exploded killing Louis. Spencer
closed his eyes in reverence, but at the same time
cursing Louis’ choice to take the quick and easy
path. His death left them weaker. Left the whole
human race weaker.
Spencer felt uneasy about taking supplies
from Louis’ truck, but every bullet or MRE
would get Spencer and Gretchen that much closer
to the safe zone.
After Spencer finished loading the last of
the supplies he climbed into the GTO’s driver’s
seat. Gretchen was already seated in the
passenger seat.
“So, what are we going to do now?”
Gretchen asked.
“I think the best thing for us is to continue
on to Prescott, we’ll-”
Spencer stopped when he heard a sound
coming from the direction of the abandoned
truck, a sort of scraping and hissing sound. “Did
you hear that?” Spencer asked turning toward the
source of the noise. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Spencer reported, gazing into the driver’s side
mirror.
“Spencer!” Gretchen shrieked, drawing
Spencer’s full attention.
Out the passenger window Spencer saw a
demon like the one he saw in Dunn latched onto
the exterior of his car, shrieking and hissing as it
raised its head. Spencer drew his Glock and
aimed. As the demon’s cold red eyes settled on
the weapon it leapt from the side of the car and
quickly disappeared.
“Where do you think it’s going?”
Gretchen asked, still shaken about seeking the
demon outside her window. At that moment the
driver’s side window shattered throwing glass all
over the interior of the car. Spencer instinctively
raised his Glock to the window; his eyes fell on
the demon. Spencer noticed several injuries that
could only have been caused by a gun; was this
the same demon they faced off against in Dunn?
Spencer realized that if this very demon had been
tracking them, he needed to eliminate it or it
could communicate with others. He fired four
shots, and the demon dislodged itself from
Spencer’s car, and returned to the sky.
“I think we should get out of here.”
Spencer suggested.
As Spencer started the engine Gretchen
lean into the back seat for a weapon. Her choices
were the M-16 or the P-90, she chose the M-16.
Spencer slammed his foot onto the gas pedal and
sped out of hiding. Reaching the open road
Gretchen rolled her window down.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Spencer asked.
“That thing is going to dog us everywhere
we go.” Gretchen shot back.
“You realize that you probably won’t kill
it?”
“They
can
be killed. I’m going to shoot
and hope I get a lucky hit,” Gretchen retorted as
she leaned out the window and set the demon in
her sights.
“Be careful, you fall out and I’m on my
own.” Spencer yelled.
“Don’t remind me.” Gretchen racked the
weapon. The demon was following a hundred
feet behind, gliding thirty meters above the
ground. Gretchen fired several rounds at their
demonic pursuer, but most missed; the demon
didn’t even have to evade. The GTO was
swerving everywhere.
“Hold it steady.” Gretchen shouted.
Spencer managed to keep his GTO going
in a relatively straight line long enough for
Gretchen to get three decent shots. One by one
the three rounds slammed into the demonic scout.
Spencer peeked into the rearview mirror, but was
unable to see their pursuer.
“Where is it? I can’t see it.” Spencer
shouted.
Gretchen squeezed off a couple more
rounds. “I
can
see it, and it’s getting a little too
close.”
“Hang on!” Spencer shouted as he passed
the off ramp for Sweetwater Texas, accelerating
faster and faster. Soon his GTO had passed a
hundred miles per hour and the demon was still
trailing behind the hybrid car. However it was
acting rather erratically, circling in the air and
shrieking.
“Is it doing what I think it’s doing?”
Spencer asked. Gretchen glanced around and
spotted what looked like a dust storm about a
mile to the east, and another one to the south.
They were moving together, converging like two
drops of water.
“Shit, I think it’s calling for back up.”
Gretchen shouted as she slid back into the
passenger seat and dropped the M-16 into the
back seat; it was little more than a band-aid on a
broken leg.
“What now?” Gretchen asked.
“We make a run for it?” Spencer asked.
Gretchen glanced out the rear window, then out
the driver’s side window; was it even possible or
would they be lucky to make it to the next town?
Gretchen watched the two converging
hordes of demons; the south flank would be cut
off within minutes. They were forced to turn off
I-20 onto Highway 84, toward Lubbock Texas.
Spencer zipped down Highway 84 at
more than a hundred and thirty miles per hour,
pushing the modified vehicle to its limits, looking
for a place that would offer a decent defensible
position. Spencer bypassed several small towns
knowing that staying would leave them totally
exposed.
Highway 84 soon intersected I-27 as it cut
through the heart of Lubbock. Spencer turned
slightly and merged on to the interstate and then
he spotted an electric sign indicating a military
presence at Covenant Medical Center on the
north side of town.
“Do you think we should?” Gretchen
asked. Spencer responded by taking the 19
^th
Street exit where a sign indicated their new
destination. Spencer turned and headed west.
After three miles hope soared in their
hearts at the sight of a dozen military Hummers
parked in a defensive formation around the
emergency entrance to the Covenant Medical
Center surrounded by demon corpses and
dismembered human bodies; most had died
recently judging by their coloring.
A pair of soldiers emerged from within
one of the hummers and directed Spencer to stop.
One soldier stood guard while the other leaned
over to talk with Spencer through his shattered
window.
The soldier wore a combat helmet and
full combat fatigues. His dark-skinned face
conveyed concern for these civilians that just fell
into his lap. “Do either of you need any medical
attention?” the soldier inquired. His rank seemed
to suggest he held the rank of Major; his name
read Walters.
“No, but we may have been followed.”
Spencer announced. Major Walters’ look of
concern changed to terrified panic.
“Are you sure?” Major Walters asked.
Spencer said nothing. Major Walters drew his
own conclusions, and they weren’t good.
“That’s a problem; we’re not going to
survive another attack without a resupply.” Major
Walters said.
“We have some supplies and arms from
an overrun convoy outside Shreveport.” Spencer
commented. “We found more before we passed
through Sweetwater about two hours ago.”
Gretchen replied drawing the Major’s attention.
Major Walters quickly pointed toward the
hospital. “There are two parking garages on the
other side of the hospital, pull into the west
parking garage; hide your vehicle so the demons
don’t see it. There will be a squad of marines
there to unload the supplies and then I want you
all to meet me in the main lobby.”
Spencer nodded. Major Walters stepped
away before reaching for a radio on his shoulder.
“All units, we have incoming friendlies in front
of a new wave of bad guys.” Then he escorted
the other soldier into the hospital. “Perimeter unit
Charlie, there’s a resupply heading your way.”
Spencer pulled forward to the next street
and turned; passing the hospital they came to a
street that ran parallel to 19
^th
Street. There were
two walkways over 21
^st
Street, each one
connected the hospital to a different parking
garage. One looked a few years old and the other
parking garage looked much newer.
“This must be the west parking garage,”
Spencer guessed before pulling in, popping up on
the curb as he did.
Spencer turned and drove through the
parking garage. He turned onto the second level
where they were surrounded by a half dozen
marines. Spencer parked and shut off his engine.
One marine leaned his head into the
permanently open window. His combat fatigues
bore a captain’s insignia.
“Did you speak with Major Walters?” the
captain asked.
“We did, Major Walters asked us to meet
him in the main lobby,” Spencer said, “With your
resupply”. Spencer popped the trunk allowing the
four marines access to the lethal cargo before he
and Gretchen climbed out of the car.
“Where did you find this?” one of the
marines asked.
“A convoy unit went down fighting. I
took all I could, I hate to tell you there were no
survivors,” Spencer replied before he reached in
to a crate of explosives and grabbed an
ammunition can before heading into the hospital.
Gretchen and the six marines arrived
several minutes later with a majority of the
trunk’s contents, leaving the sword, some food
and provisions, the P-90, a case of ammunition
and a case of explosives.
“This hall connects with another hall
which cuts through the Cardiac Center on its way
to the main lobby,” the captain said and after a
couple minutes they rounded the corner and
wounded started coming into view lined along
the total length of the wall, no, they weren’t
wounded, they were casualties, probably
dismembered in the last attack. Terrifying images
from Dunn came flooding back. Spencer started
to feel queasy, but managed to retain his
composure and push through the aisle of the
dead.
As they neared the main lobby, the sound
of gunfire made their hearts drop.
Has the demon
horde finally arrived?
As Spencer, Gretchen and their Marine
escort strode into the main lobby they were met
by Major Walters.
“What’s going on?” Spencer inquired as
he approached.
“We’ve got a flier inbound, he seems to
be circling.” Major Walters replied.
“Where’s the commanding officer?”
Major Walters darkly grimaced as he
pointed at a motionless form that was being
moved into the hall of dead bodies. “He was
injured in the attack this morning; he died just a
few minutes ago. I’m in command now.” Major
Walters admitted.
“In that case, I have intelligence that is
crucial to our survival. The demons are organized
into ‘hives’ and lead by a ‘queen’.”
“Kind of like a beehive?” Major Walters
asked.
“Exactly, only when you kill the queen,
her troops get really angry and that’s when her
army is vulnerable, you can kill them once she is
dead.” Spencer explained, and then let the
concept hang in the air before briefly summing it
up. “They become mortal.”
Major Walters smiled. “Tell me about this
‘hive queen’.
“The only way to kill her is to take off her
head, and to get close you need a lot of bullets to
stun her.” Spencer summarized as a marine
approached.
“Sir,” the marine began. “It looks to be
retreating.
“Outside Sweetwater there must have
been thousands of the things, there’s no way it’s
retreating. It must be going to tell his buddies
where we are.” Spencer guessed.
Major Walters glanced at the marine.
“Take it out.”
The marine saluted and left while
reaching for a radio off his shoulder.
“Snipers, if you have a shot of the flier,
take it!” The marine ordered before disappearing
deeper into the hospital. As time passed, more
than three dozen shots were heard tearing
through the sky.
One of the snipers radioed back. “I’m
sorry sir, it’s out of range.”
“What about Morris?” Major Walters
asked.
“He’s dead, sir. He was killed before the
damn thing bugged out.”
Spencer looked sternly at Major Walters.
“What’s your plan, Major?”
“You said all we have to do is kill this
‘hive queen’?” Major Walters asked.
Spencer nodded. “That’s right, how many
men do you still have?”
“At last count, we had fifty,” Major
Walters replied.
“Captain Huddleston!” Major Walters
shouted over the chaos, and soon a soldier in dark
combat camouflage approached.
“Yes, sir.” Captain Huddleston saluted.
“Captain, how many claymores do we
still have?” Major Walters asked
“We still have two dozen but the
detonator was destroyed last night.” Captain
Huddleston announced.
Gretchen smirked, “Captain, I think I can
help you with that.”
“You?” Captain Huddleston asked
dubiously.
“My father was an IRA trained guerilla.”
Another soldier approached and