There had been a time when Super-Route One had been the primary logistics supply line for the forces deployed in Hell. Then, the highway had been backed up from Hellgate Alpha all the way to Al Tarmia, trucks moving nose-to-tail in convoy, mixed in with tank transporters and all the other vehicles that modern armies found indispensable. Those days had passed, now there were more than fifty permanent portals linking Earth and Hell with additional temporary portals being formed as necessary. That had taken the strain off Super-Route One and the traffic on the highway had accelerated accordingly. At long last, the great Oshkosh HEMTTs, the Russian Maz and their Chinese and European equivalents actually had a safer distance between them
“What’s the cargo Sergeant?” Amy Seinfeld was a little nervous about asking the question. Not because of any security implications but from the fact that her Sergeant was Gerry Links, one of the heroes of the Tenth Mountain Division that had fought the daemons hand-to-hand at Hit. He’d been a private then, was a Sergeant now and was viewed with quiet awe by the rest of his unit.
“Relief supplies for Haiti.” His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. The traffic might have eased over the last year but it was still denser than any other road he’d driven on. “We’re taking them through Hell to a hellgate at Port-au-Prince Airport. Them poor folks need the stuff we got here bad.”
“Saw it on the television last night. Everything in ruins, the daemons working to pull people out of the wrecks. They say Abigor himself went there to help with the rescue efforts.” Seinfeld stopped as Links grunted. “Must be odd for you Sarge, seeing them daemons helping us.”
“They got guts, I’ll always give them that.” Links paused for a second, his memories of the Battle of Hit flooding back. “Even when we were hammering them with everything we had, they kept coming at us. They just didn’t stop. We had thirty-plus troops in the unit when the battle started, seven of us came out. They pushed us back. All the way through the town. Building by building, room by room. In the end, we were there, with our backs to the river, the bridge blown and nowhere left to go. If it hadn’t been for the hajjis with their truck bombs, we wouldn’t have held. They’d have torn us up on the river bank. But the hajjis blew themselves up right in the middle of the Baldrick groups and that bought us just enough time. We didn’t win at Hit, Seinfeld, they did.”
There was silence in the truck cab, Seinfeld having the understanding to keep quiet and leave her Sergeant with his memories. Eventually he started speaking again, more to himself than to her. “So yeah, its strange to see them here on Earth helping us. But, they never pretended to be anything other than our enemies and when we beat them, they accepted that. And the average Baldricks, the little guys like us, they were as much victims of Satan as we were. Just like the Germans and the Japanese I guess. Now, they’re doing what they can to make it right. But them Angels, they pretended to be so good and noble and our saviors and all that. All the time they were sending us to Hell. Now, they’ve run off and hidden and just launch their beasts and weather storms at us. We’ve got a real score to settle with them.”
“Yahweh.” There was a wealth of distaste in Seinfeld’s voice. “You reckon he was behind the Haiti Earthquake?”
“Who knows? It’s the Angels style all right but there were some egg-heads on Discovery Channel a few nights ago said it was natural, just a fault moving or something. Might as well blame Yahweh for it though. If he didn’t do it, he’s done a whole load of other things just as bad he didn’t get blamed for so it’ll all even out. Bridge up ahead Seinfeld, get on the radio and warn the rest of the column.
The great towers of the Al Tarmia Suspension Bridge were a mile or two ahead. This was another bottleneck in the Highway. Not from volume, the bridge had six lanes each way, just like the highway. It was weight that was the problem. The builders hadn’t taken into account the fact that all of the vehicles on this bridge would be heavily-laden military trucks mixed in with a large number of armored vehicle transports. So, the number of vehicles allowed on the bridge was restricted and the spacing between them carefully enforced. Sure enough, the traffic was slowing down as the bridge drew nearer. By the time Links had got up to the on-ramp, it was down to a barely-moving crawl so he was hardly surprised when it stopped completely.
Whatever was crossing the bridge to cause the delay was outsize and overweight. Links could feel the vibration building up under his vehicle and saw the towers staring to sway. There was something wrong about what was happening, but he couldn’t quite work it out.
Seinfeld was in no doubt though, she was from California and the movement of the ground was unmistakable. “Earthquake, a big one!” Her cry was desperate as she looked for a way to get to solid ground.
That’s what was wrong. The Al Tarmia Bridge wasn’t really one bridge, it was two parallel bridges, one for each direction. Yet, they were swinging in perfect synchronization. That simply could not have been caused by the traffic, it had to be an earthquake. “Stay put Seinfeld, we’re better off in the trucks.”
Ahead of the stalled traffic, the suspended roadways were writhing and arching as the tremors thrust them around. This was only the start for as Links watched, a roaring noise drowned out the sound of his truck’s diesel engine. The whole surface of the Euphrates River was arching upwards and formed a wave that struck the moving bridge to send a cloud of spray upwards. It flooded over the roadway, sweeping the trucks that had been unable to get off into the river. Then, the wave was past and was heading down south towards Baghdad. Incredibly the bridge was still standing, its motion slowly damping out as the water poured off it. Beneath it, the bed of the Euphrates was dry.
“Radio from the traffic office Sarge. The bridge is closed while it’s checked for structural damage.”
“Any word what caused that?” Links was still shaken by the suddenness and violence of the flood.
Seinfeld spoke into the truck radio again. “A mass of boulders got dumped into the river quite a way north of here. Masses of rocks, hit the ground fast and hard, enough to cause a quake. Came from a portal high up. The Euphrates is dammed up as well, the rock pile goes on for miles. No water is getting through at all.”
Links looked south. “Baghdad isn’t going to be too healthy when that wave hits it. Damn Yahweh.”
Human Expeditionary Army Command Headquarters, Hell
“Well, that was the Sixth Bowl.” General of the Armies David Petraeus looked at the members of his staff meeting.
“Tells us what the Seventh will be as well.” General Michael Jackson wasn’t happy at the news. One of the supply lines the HEA depended on had just been cut. As Petraeus’s Chief of Staff, he was responsible for making sure his General didn’t have to worry about supplies getting through to the front-line units. “Rocks from a portal high up dumped on a city. Question is, which one?”
“According to my mythology-wonks, the target will be ‘Babylon’. The problem is, ‘Babylon’ is taken to mean the seat of sin and depravity. I suppose by biblical standards that could mean any large modern city.” Richard O’Shea thought for a second. “How about Bangkok, Khunying General Asanee?”
Major General Asanee eyed O’Shea, primarily to try and guess whether he was serious or just trying to goad her. She’d always had a problem telling when Europeans were joking and when they were being serious. Eventually she’d adopted a policy of assuming they were the latter unless people started laughing before she said anything. Applying it now could be a good idea. “It is quite possible. Bangkok is certainly Sin City by the standards of your bible. Only, we are not the head of any great empire and we are of regional importance only. Also, my city is built on sediment and it may absorb the blows. Tokyo, however, that is different. The Seventh Bowl falling there will be devastating. It might cause another great earthquake. That is part of the legend also is it not.” She looked at O’Shea again and raised an eyebrow.