Having fun destroying all things that make my day hard.

Here's a little excerpt from my third Kongomato novel. It's proving to be fun trashing all the things that make my day driving around London so hard. After destroying Buckingham Palace in book two I'm running out of really worthwhile places but I've managed to find another. Who knows what will happen by the time I finally finish the book.

     ‘Trouble,’ murmured the driver with masterful understatement before revving the engine hard and accelerating with enough power to throw Hendry back into his seat. Anxious to see more he lunged forward and immediately wished that he had not. There, before them lay Admiralty Arch, or more precisely, what was left of it.

     The one hundred year old building, a memorial by King Edward VII to his mother Queen Victoria was a shattered pile of rubble. Parked near to the remains of the previously curved structure was a single empty police car, the blue lights of which were providing the eerie light show. Hendry looked, but as far as he could see absolutely no policemen were in attendance. Where they had gone was as puzzling as the fire which although beginning to gutter seemed recent but sufficiently ferocious to demolish it entirely.

     ‘Stay here,’ said the driver after cocking his enormous pistol and jumping from the still moving vehicle. Hendry’s cry that he should stay or at the very least get them out of there were unheeded as the man went to check – on what, he could not imagine; the entire structure had been destroyed. Parked this close to the fiery remains he looked on aghast. Of course the fire would not burn on ground level for long since what lay above the road was largely stone, but there were multiple levels below ground and God only knew how many people had been there. Had the prime Minister escaped? The questions and terrifying sight surrounded him as he tried to think. Then any more thinking was unnecessary for above the crackling of the flames and single siren echoing about the burnt out rubble, another sound shattered the air. Hendry had it heard it many times before and then as now, it petrified him. That explained where the police had gone, either fled or eaten. Of course the enormous fire would attract any Cryptid for miles around. Leaning from the door he shouted at the top of his voice for the man to return.

      He saw him for one moment as a strong gust of wind blew most of the remaining flames to one side and a shower or sparks flew away in a incredible curtain of orange sparkles.

      ‘Get back here now!’

      The man looked up, saw what was above him and with either the most incredible bravery or utter foolishness pointed the weapon upwards. Five shots, five very deliberate and well aimed shots flew upwards to the Cryptid Hendry could still not see. A shrill scream of rage suggested that at least one had found its mark. Then apparently the gun jammed or the creature had moved out of sight, for a moment later the driver turned and ran towards him. One hundred feet, seventy; it seemed he would make it for by now Hendry could see his wide open terrified eyes, the sweat running down his face until with yet another screech, this time from another direction, and the man halted, fell to his knees and with a horrendous scream of his own covered his face.