The Final Winter

Chapter Thirty-Five

Despite the three of them being huddled together, Jess felt no warmer. Damien managed to get the fire going again by setting fire to some of the surplus duvets. They wouldn’t burn for long, but they were better than nothing. Now the three of them lay shivering beneath a dozen sheets and blankets, trying to hold on to as much warmth as possible.

“Poor Old Graham,” said Steph, still upset but past the worse of it. She’d wailed for almost twenty minutes when she first discovered the old man had expired. Jess knew that Steph felt responsible for it, but the truth of it was that it was all because of Nigel.

Pervert. Hope he’s frozen to death out there or being eaten alive by one of those monsters.

Jess thought about the things she’d seen outside with Jerry and found it hard to imagine them clearly. With the hours that had passed it all seemed like some absurd hallucination. Monsters under the bed did not exist, she’d told herself, but she could not deny the death and bloodshed that she had occurred tonight. Ben. Peter. Old Graham. They were all good guys. She prayed that the others would make it back safely. She’d do anything, right now, to sit and listen to Jerry’s inane pop culture references.

“How long did you know Old Graham?” she asked Steph.

Steph let out a huff that was almost a laugh. “Whole time I worked here. Eighteen months, I guess. He could bore you to death something awful, but he didn’t have a bad bone in his body. Complained a lot; but never about anyone, or anything, in particular. I think he was a lonely old man that just wanted to be around people.”

“Least he lived a long life,” Damien chimed in, his voice jittery from the chill that affected everyone’s lungs.

“He didn’t deserve to go like this though. He survived a war and this is how he dies? It’s such a waste.”

Jess squeezed Steph’s hand under the blankets. “I think he went the way he would have liked. Drunk as a skunk and the centre of attention.”

Steph and Damien laughed.

“So, Damien,” Jess moved on, “are you really as much of a hard-knock as you like to make people think?”

Damien was silent for a moment, but eventually answered. “Who says I want people to think that?”

“Guess it’s just the impression you give off. It confuses me though because, after tonight, I’m starting to think it’s all bullshit.”

Jess didn’t know why she felt the need to goad Damien, but she wanted a serious conversation to keep her mind occupied. Plus, she was intrigued about the kind of person Damien actually was.

Damien cleared his throat. “You reckon?”

“Yeah,” said Jess. “I actually think you’re a nice guy. You just don’t want people to know it.”

“I agree,” said Steph.

Damien was silent again for a moment. Jess could feel him rustling beneath the sheets. When he finally spoke up, he sounded tired. “Maybe the only reason I’m not a nice guy is because people think bad of me no matter what I do.”

“But you make people think like that. You chose to make people think you’re a thug.”

Damien laughed. “You think I made people see me this way? I had no chance of ever being anything other than a thug.”

Jess sighed. “Is this the part where you say your daddy never hugged you enough?”

“No,” said Damien. “This is the part when I tell you my dad had me selling drugs for him at eight years old. No one would ever expect a kid, huh? Or how about how my dad put a lad in a coma a couple years ago and made me take credit for it around the local estate. ‘It will make people fear you’, he said. You’re absolutely right; my dad never hugged me because that’s not what monsters like him do.”

“Are you shitting me?” Steph asked. She sounded mortified.

“No, Steph. I’m not shitting you. Truth is I was glad the day he went to Jail. Thought it would set me free from his fucked-up demands, but I was just wishing on a fucking star. He called me at least once a day, making sure I was running his little empire for him ‘til he got back. Selling the merchandise and bringing in the dough.”

“You can’t blame everything on your dad,” Jess told him. “I saw you cause enough trouble to see that you enjoyed being the big man.”

“Yeah, course I did. The only love and respect I got was from the guys I hung with. If people on the estate don’t fear me then I’m nothing. I’m alone with nothing.”

“Why didn’t you get out?” asked Steph. “You could have done something, I’m sure.”

Damien was quiet once more but the sound of his breathing was heavy and distinct, laboured. “I was getting out tonight. I had a bunch of money stashed and I was going to stay with an old girlfriend that moved to Edinburgh a couple years back. I just had one last thing to do tonight and then I was out of here.”

“One last thing?” asked Steph.

“Warn someone.”

“Who?”

“The guy who gave evidence on my old man and sent him down. Took over a year but my dad’s mates finally managed to find out who it was. My orders were to kill the guy tonight; take him outside and stick a knife in him. Guess my dad was beginning to doubt my loyalty.”

“Jesus,” said Jess, not believing her ears. “You weren’t going to do it though, were you?”

“That’s what I’m telling you.” Damien raised his voice and it seemed to cause him pain. “I was… going to warn him, tell him to get the hell out of… town. Soon as the snow stopped I was going to get on a train and never come back. Maybe go to college and do business or something.”

No one spoke for a while. It was a revelation, for sure, and not one Jess had expected. She felt sad that Damien might not get the chance to fulfil his plans for atonement; such things were important. Jess closed her eyes, feeling more tired than she’d ever felt in her life. The cold was no longer bothering her as much; in fact she was starting to feel quite numb. Maybe now she could finally rest for a while.

So tired…

Harry’s legs ached and he wasn’t sure how much further they would take him. He didn’t know whether the pub was two yards away or two thousand. All he could see was snow, and although he could see nothing following, angry growls and wailing from unseen beasts filled the air all around him.

Harry could no longer feel his feet from the cold and it felt as though he was walking around on nerveless stumps. Kath was obviously suffering too. She hadn’t spoken since they’d watched Nigel die. Lucas however seemed fine, unaffected by the cold for reasons that Harry was eager to find out. Was the man any more human than the hooded figures?

“So,” said Harry. “If the things wearing hoods are Angels, what are the dog things?”

Lucas continued looking forward as he walked, but answered the question promptly. “Hounds of Hell.”

Harry scratched his chin. “But don’t Angels come from Heaven.”

“Aye, they do, Harry Boy, but Angels have dominion over both heaven and hell during certain circumstances.”

Harry felt himself confused already. “Circumstances such as what?”

“You know, family reunions, birthdays, The Apocalypse.”

Harry spluttered. “The Apocalypse?”

“Aye, you know, Armageddon and all that, but it’s not as dramatic as you might think. There’re no horsemen, none of that fire and brimstone nonsense. The old man upstairs likes to do things a bit more efficiently. Biblical floods and such are more His style.”

“Or biblical snow storms,” Kath added glumly.

Lucas smiled. “Indeed, lass.”

Harry was trying to follow, but things still didn’t add up in his mind. If this really was the end of the world, and God intended to simply freeze the world to death, then why did he need…?

“The Angels,” said Harry. “Why are they here?”

“Call them overseers if you will. God can’t just make the snow fall unendingly without having a presence on earth. He needs vessels to channel his power through - conduits. That’s why the Angels have come down here, to exercise His will.”

Harry nodded, an idea forming in his head. “So if we take out the angels, we can stop this?”

Lucas laughed, loud and hearty. “Do you know how many of them there are? We’re talking tens of thousands, and they don’t play nice. You can’t kill an Angel anyway.”

Harry sagged. “I still don’t understand why they are doing this. It can’t be because of me?”

“I already told you Harry Boy, it’s not just because of you, strictly speaking. It’s because of everyone, really. God gave Noah a second chance, but that’s all the big man had in his pocket of goodwill. He vowed that if the human race threw it in His face one more time then they wouldn’t get another reprieve. But that’s what you all went and did anyway, with your sinful ways and what not. Fucking, murdering, raping, stealing, cheating, Facebook. You name it; you people have over indulged in it. Over time, you all tipped the scales way past the point of no return.”

“But not everyone is like that. Why can he not just punish the bad?”

Kath sighed. “Because there were probably too few to make it worthwhile.”

Lucas nodded. “Aye, there are a few decent souls, admittedly, and He took that into consideration. He allowed man to pass judgement on man.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“I mean, that he decided to judge mankind by its own values. Harry, after your wife and son were mowed down you made the choice for everyone.”

Harry spat. “I had no choice. The guy had lost his license a year before, but got behind the wheel anyway. He was a lousy, fucking drunk and had probably mowed down a dozen children before he killed my son. He was an alcoholic. No good to anyone.”

“Sounds like you, Harry,” said Kath, spitefully.

It made Harry angry, but what was the use in arguing? “Maybe it is,” he conceded. “What would you have done after losing your family?”

“That’s the point,” said Lucas. “You had a choice. Did you get on with your life and make the memory of your family proud or did you give in to vice, rejecting the gifts God gave you? Did you know that the reason Thomas was a drunk was because he too lost a son in a tragic accident? Just like you, Harry. Ironic, no? Have you really behaved any differently than him?”

“No,” said Harry, understanding the hypocrisy. “But I never drove drunk. I never let my problems endanger anybody else.”

“No, you just got hammered one night and murdered the chap who accidently killed your family. Understandable, I guess, but definitely not the right path. God decided to judge humanity by your actions and your choice was vengeance. Now vengeance has been reaped upon you all. You committed man’s final sin – the last one that counted anyway - and you picked a gem: Though shall not kill.”

Harry thought about the night he’d murdered Thomas Morris; the night he crept into the hospital ward where the man had been admitted for a simple hernia operation. Getting past the lone prison guard was easy. It wasn’t as if they were going to place a highly-paid special detachment outside the door. It was just one guard who didn’t want to be stuck at a hospital at 3:00AM on a Friday night. Harry easily snuck past him and entered Thomas’s room. The man was in a deep sleep. Even after Harry shoved the plastic bag over his head.

It took several moments for Thomas to wake up and realise what was happening. The last thing he would have seen, through the clear plastic smothering his face, was Harry’s dark, grinning expression as he suffocated the life out of him.

When it was all over, Harry had vomited in the en-suite toilet, before hurrying out of the room and snagging the back of his hand on the sharp edge of an unused gurney in the corridor. The blood had gone everywhere and a nurse in a nearby ward had sat him down and stitched the wound, remarking on how much it resembled the shape of a star. Harry had been silent the entire time the nurse looked after him, staring into space like a zombie until she was done. Somehow he had walked out of the hospital that night without incident. He’d just killed a man and no one noticed a thing.

Harry had then gone home immediately and drank for seven days straight. Later he sold his successful furniture business, as well as his house and car. The sales left him with just over half-a-million-pounds to drink himself to death with. He had hoped it wouldn’t take long. A year later, here he was, responsible for the death of mankind.

“Bullshit!” he said finally.

Lucas put his hands up. “Hey, I don’t disagree. I don’t want the world to end any more than you do – I’d miss Manchester United playing, for one – but it is what it is.”

“And there’s nothing we can do?” Kath pleaded.

Lucas shook his head. “Unless you can convince the big man to change his mind – but I don’t think he’s listening. You can hold the choir off temporarily with objects of depravity like the porno mags. Same reason they can’t enter the pub: it’s a den of inequity and they can’t step their holy toes in it.”

“How do you know so much?” Harry demanded. The snow was sapping his strength and he needed answers before he was too tired to ask for them anymore. “How do you know so much about Angels?

“Because I used to be one, laddie. Long time ago.”

Harry understood. It came to him in a flash of inspiration. “They called you wormwood.”

“That they did, but I prefer you to use my rightful name; the name given to me by my lord.”

“And what’s that?” Kath asked, obviously not yet understanding what Harry did.

Lucas turned to the woman and grinned, pointy teeth shining. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Lucifer, the Prince of Hell. Pleased to meet you.”

Harry frowned. He should have been shouting ‘bullshit’, but somehow he knew it was true. Somehow the reality of the situation just could not be denied. He was trudging through the snow with the Devil, pursued by murderous angels. There was just one more thing that didn’t make sense. “Why the whole Irish jig then, Lucas Fergus?”

“Would you prefer I had horns and a red suit? Let’s just say that Ireland is close to my heart. Good, fun-loving, people that love a good time. Although I can take many forms, and appear however I wish, Irish is my favourite. Plus the chicks dig the accent.”

Harry laughed. What a head fuck. “Why are you here? Are you helping the Angels?”

Lucas shook his head vehemently, snow falling from his hair. “Those righteous do-gooders? Hell no. They may be my brothers, but we parted ways a long time ago for good reason. Any of the choir that were any fun joined me in Hell. It’s the place to be, as long as you haven’t been sent there for, you know… treatment, as it were.”

“So, we’re all going to Heaven or Hell after this?” Kath sounded hopeful. She obviously thought she was destined for Heaven.

“Afraid not, luv. After the final sin was committed, God forsook you all. You’re all coming downstairs with me to whichever level you deserve.”

“Level we deserve?” Kath sounded worried.

Lucas nodded. He seemed to be getting a bit impatient now as they continued through the snow. “The levels dish out appropriate punishment. A murderer gets murdered. Over and over. Forever. A rapist gets raped. A bully gets beaten. You get the general theme here, right?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Kath shut up and stayed that way, seemingly lost in disturbing thought.

“That just leaves you,” said Harry. “You still haven’t told us what part you have to play in all this. You’re the Devil, which means you’re evil and can’t be trusted… doesn’t it?”

Before Lucas had chance to reply, Harry realised that, once again, they were surrounded.