Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

by Iain Rob Wright

  Why is nobody helping her?

  “I told you,” Shawcross shouted. “I told you this would happen, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  Annaliese fought against a growing lump in her throat. She spluttered as she spoke. “I-I’m sorry.”

  Shawcross still held the meat tenderiser in his hand. He rushed up to Bradley with it raised over his head. He swung the wooden mallet in a wild arc.

  The first blow opened a wide divot in Bradley’s skull, but it didn’t stop him from chewing on Kimberly’s neck. The second blow dropped him like a switch had been flipped in his brain. His legs folded and he hit the floor in a crumpled heap.

  Kimberly looked at Shawcross like he was her saviour. She even managed to smile amid the thick, dark blood that spilled from between her lips. Shawcross smiled back at her, almost pityingly.

  Then he smashed the mallet into the side of her skull, cracking open her temple and sending her to the floor.

  Annaliese threw up on the tiles. The sight of Shawcross bludgeoning Bradley, and then that innocent woman to death was the final straw. She should have been shocked, but somehow she knew he was just doing what was necessary. Kimberly had been infected the moment Bradley had bitten her. There was no place for mercy. If Annaliese had understood that earlier, perhaps Kimberly would still be alive.

  “S-she let me inside,” Annaliese spluttered. “She saved me and now she’s dead.”

  Shawcross stared at her with bulging eyes. Blood spattered his face and streaked his ginger hair. With the mallet in his hand he looked like some kind of Scandinavian berserker. “I told you this would happen, but I let you have your own way. I should have dealt with Bradley the moment you brought him in. A woman is now dead because of my mistake.”

  Annaliese shook her head. “This wasn’t your fault.”

  “No,” he said, thrusting the bloody meat tenderiser in her face. “You’re right. It’s your fault.”

  Annaliese looked down at Kimberly and Bradley. Was it really her fault that this had happened? Was a kindly, courageous woman dead because of her?

  “I want to get out of here,” somebody said. “I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t get some air.”

  Annaliese took a deep breath through her nose and noticed a cloying odour hanging in the air. She didn’t know how she had missed the smell to begin with, but it was unmistakable. It was the stench of death.

  Shawcross was still irate. The others in the room kept their distance as he raged and gesticulated angrily. “We can’t leave,” he said. “Those things are out there. As soon as we step foot outside they’ll be on us like a pack of bloody hyenas.”

  “But we can’t stay in here forever,” someone said.

  “I’m leaving,” said somebody else.

  Shawcross huffed. “You’d rather die a horrible death than stay here a while until help arrives?”

  Annaliese thought about the call to emergency services that Shawcross had made hours ago, and how help was still yet to arrive. She didn’t like any plan that involved waiting around to be rescued because she wasn’t sure any help was coming. They needed a better plan.

  “How about causing a distraction?” she said.

  Shawcross glared at her irritably, but his silence suggested he was willing to listen to suggestions.

  “Those things seem to operate on sight and sound more than anything else. Maybe if we could lead them away from this part of the house, we could all sneak out without them seeing us.”

  Shawcross shrugged. “And go where? You said you were attacked in the gardens, so those things have obviously gotten outside, too.”

  Annaliese shrugged. “I only saw one. I think the park and zoo would be a safe place to go. We could even make a break for our cars.”

  “Well, none of that makes any sense without a plan to get us there. How on earth do we distract them?”

  Annaliese stared down at Kimberly’s dead body. Then she looked at the frightened faces of the various strangers in the kitchen. “I’ll go out,” she said. “I’ll try and lead them away so the rest of you can escape.”

  Shawcross frowned at her, but a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested that he might actually be impressed by her suggestion. “That’s insane,” he said. “They’ll rip you apart.”

  “Maybe. But these things have chased me once already. They’re fast, yes, but they’re also clumsy. If I know exactly where I’m going, I think I can stay ahead of them.”

  “That’s all very well, but what do you do once you’ve led them away? You can’t run forever. Eventually you’ll have to shake them off.”

  Annaliese thought for a moment before offering a suggestion. “Can’t I slip inside one of the bedrooms and lock the door behind me? I could climb through a window and re-join you all outside.”

  “You’ll never make it,” Shawcross said. “Besides, I don’t have my keys. I was cashing-up the bar when the first attacks happened. My keys are still in the till.”

  “I have my room card,” said a young guy over by the room’s industrial ovens. He had a bloody handprint on his light blue shirt but seemed in good shape otherwise. She put his age at about thirty by the style of his gelled black hair. “You can take it to get into my room.”

  Annaliese took the card from the man and thanked him. “What number is your room?”

  “Seven. It’s just up the stairs on the right. It’s not far.”

  “Great. I’m sure I’ll be able to get there, no problems.

  “You really want to do this?” Shawcross asked her.

  She nodded. “A woman is dead because of me. Least I can do is try and get you people out of here.”

  “Then, you should take a weapon.” He offered her the bloody meat tenderiser.

  She waved it away. “It’ll just slow me down. Plus, I still think these people are just sick. I’m not about to bash somebody’s skull in unless there’s no other choice.”

  “Sometimes there isn’t,” he said.

  “Wait,” said the young man whose key card she had taken. “How will we know when the coast is clear?”

  “You won’t,” she said. “Just come out five minutes after I leave and pray that they’ve all followed me.”

  “The first sign of danger and we will return back here,” said Shawcross. “If everything is all clear, then we head out the front doors and regroup at the zoo. Hopefully Annaliese is correct when she says it’s safe out there.”

  “It is,” she reconfirmed. “Like I said, there was just the man who attacked Bradley. I didn’t see anybody else.”

  “Just be careful,” said the guy from room seven.

  Annaliese smiled at him. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

  “Mike.”

  “Good to meet you, Mike. I’m Anna. I’ll see you outside, okay? Anything you want from your room?”

  “There is actually. My wallet is on the bedside table. It would mean a lot to me if you could get it for me.”

  Annaliese was confused, but shrugged in agreement. “Okay. I don’t think there’s going to be much need for your credit cards, but I’ll grab it if I see it.”

  “Shall we get this over with?” Shawcross asked. He was standing next to the barricaded exit, leaning close to the doors and listening. “I think they’ve wandered off. I can’t hear them anymore, but who knows when they will wander back.”

  Annaliese rubbed at her eyes and blinked. “Okay, I’m ready. I’ve had three hours sleep in the last thirty-six hours and I’m stuck in a low-budget horror movie, but I’m ready.”

  Shawcross started sliding the fridge away from the doors, shuffling it a little bit at a time so as not to make a noise. Mike went and lent a hand and the two of them eventually moved it out of the way. They slid away a heavy table and flipped the latch on the door.

  Shawcross looked at Annaliese. “You ready? Things get too dangerous, you come right back here and we’ll think of another way.”

  “There is no other way,” she said. “We don’t know when hel
p will get here or how long we can stay safe inside this kitchen. We have to get outside.”

  Shawcross opened the door a crack and peered through the gap. “It seems all clear,” he whispered. “I think that when they lose sight of people they wander off and disperse. Then, if they find someone again, they screech. It’s almost like a rolling net. Spreading out till they find someone and then closing in when they do. At least for now the coast is clear.”

  “They’re still out there somewhere, though,” said Mike. “So be alert.”

  “Will do,” she said. Then she slipped through the kitchen doors and was in the dining room again. Blood still caked everything and the smell had become a sharp metallic haze in the air. Bloody streaks and dirty handprints covered the back of the kitchen’s doors where the mob had previously been battering to get inside.

  But they’ve gone now. Where?

  Annaliese bent her knees and kept low. It was an instinctual movement and she instantly felt less exposed as she ducked down beside the room’s large mahogany table.

  While she could not see anybody else in the dining room, her ears picked up the slightest sound of movement. It would not quite register what it was exactly, but it was regular, almost rhythmic.

  She crept onwards, heading for the foyer, her wellington boots sticking to the tacky bloodstains on the stone floor as she moved. As a vet, she was no stranger to blood, but so much of it, and spilled so unceremoniously, was a little hard to handle. She had to take deep breaths in order to keep her stomach and bladder under control.

  As she crossed the dining room, staying close to the table, the mysterious rhythmic sound became louder. Either that or she was closer to the source.

  Tap, tap.

  Tap, tap.

  Annaliese rounded the corner of the table and stepped out into the open. There was an overturned chair in front of her, but it was too small to provide cover. She would have to just hope and pray that none of the sick people were in a position to see her.

  Tap, tap.

  The noise seemed to be coming from her right, over in the far corner of the dining room. As she looked over, she saw movement amongst the overturned furniture. She couldn’t help herself but take a couple of steps closer. Her curiosity demanded to know more.

  Tap, tap.

  She took a moment to check behind her as she took another step. The last thing she needed was to be jumped from behind. When she turned back around, she finally spotted the source of the noise. It was a sight she wished she could un-see.

  She put a hand to her mouth and felt her eyes water. “My God.”

  Ten feet away, lying amongst a pile of broken chairs was an infected person. It was one of the slower ones – one of the dead ones? It was lying on its back. Perhaps a male, but it was hard to know for sure. His face was a half-eaten mess, only the chomping jaws still left intact. The tapping sound was coming from the man’s thrashing legs. They had been stripped clean of flesh from above the knees downwards. The exposed bones of the foot and ankle were clicking against the stone floor as the decimated figure tried to move. With each attempt to get up, his withered legs folded uselessly beneath him.

  Tap, tap.

  Tap.

  The torn-apart man finally spotted Annaliese and let out a pained moan in her direction. It was almost like a plea for help, but she knew what would happen if she got too close. The body dragged and clawed itself across the floor, trying to get at her, but its progress was snail-like. As long as Annaliese kept moving, the body would pose no risk.

  She crept onwards, trying to shake the disturbing images from her mind. The doorway to the reception hall was just up ahead. She could see the front doors of the foyer that led outside to the grounds. A voice in her mind urged her to just make a break for it; get outside on her own and run for help. But then she remembered that the others would be coming out in five minutes. They were counting on her to clear the way.

  I have to do this.

  Okay, here goes nothing.

  Annaliese straightened up and stepped out into the foyer. She prayed with every ounce of her spirit that the space would be empty, just like it had been when she’d first entered with Bradley.

  That was not the case, though.

  When she stepped into the reception area, there were at least a dozen infected people staring directly at her. All as one, they let out a scream.

  And then they came for her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Annaliese was surrounded on all sides. Infected people came at her from behind the reception desk, from inside the function suite’s entrance, and from atop the staircase. The only place left to run was back towards the kitchen, but she knew she wouldn’t make it. They had the jump on her.

  A stocky man in a navy blue jumper came at Annaliese from her left. He snarled and growled like a pit-bull. He collided with her so hard that she went hurtling back into the dining room. Her foot struck something and suddenly she found herself off-balance. She looked down to see that the body with the skeletal legs had managed to crawl across the stone floor and reach her. She’d stumbled right into its grasp. The decimated man was now clawing at her leg, trying to bite down on her ankle. If not for her thick wellington boots, he might have succeeded.

  The stocky man in the blue jumper came at her again. She managed to kick her leg free from her attacker on the floor and hop aside just in time. The stocky man went crashing into the dining room table and tumbled to the floor.

  More were coming.

  Annaliese looked up to see the horde of infected rushing into the room. Seeking the nearest barrier to protect herself, she leapt up onto the mahogany dining table and clambered down its length. She was counting on the erratic, uncoordinated movements of her pursuers to buy her some time. Sure enough, as they reached the table themselves, they struggled to gain purchase and lift themselves up onto its polished surface to come after her.

  Annaliese dodged candelabras and centrepieces as she made her way down the table. She peered back over her shoulder to see that only a couple of infected people had managed to clamber up onto the table after her – they slid and skittered about as they tried to keep their balance – but most of the remaining mob pursued her from the ground. They reached up at her as they kept pace alongside her.

  Pure survival instinct urged her onwards, but it soon became apparent that she was running out of table, like a plane nearing the end of a runway. She had to think fast.

  I have to clear a way through to the reception area.

  She put on the brakes, skidding on her heels and turning around. An infected girl sprinted towards her from further down the table. Annaliese ran towards her, meeting the charge head on. They ran at each other like fighting bulls.

  Oh God, oh God. What the hell am I doing?

  At the last moment, she ducked down and skidded sideways on her knees. The highly-polished surface of the table allowed her to slide easily. She collided with the girl charging towards her and knocked her aside like a skittle. The woman tumbled off the table and into the baying mob that surrounded them.

  Annaliese’s rubber wellington’s sapped the last of her momentum and brought her to a stop. She hopped back up to her feet and continued running, heading back the way she had originally come from, back towards the foyer. There was one more infected person on the table: a large man with an ample gut. She threw herself at his large belly, tucking in her shoulder and turning herself into a battering ram.

  The man rocked and staggered, lost his footing and slipped off the table, leaving her free to sprint down what was left of the mahogany runway. Within seconds she had reached the end and leapt off into the air. As she landed, she looked over at the mob to see that they had changed direction and were coming right after her again.

  But this time she had options.

  Looking left and right, Annaliese realised she now had a chance to make it back to the safety of the kitchen. But she also realised that, with the gang of infected now behind her and leaving the foyer clear,
she had the opportunity she needed to create a distraction.

  The safety of the kitchen called to her, but somehow she found her feet travelling towards the reception foyer. Once she’d decided on her destination, she picked up speed. The screeching mob of murderers at her back pushed her onwards at a level of effort she didn’t know she had.

  She fled into the foyer and saw that the only infected person present was the woman she’d tied up earlier with the keyboard cord. Annaliese wasted no time in rushing around her for the staircase, hoping that there would be no dangers lying ahead of her on the second floor. She didn’t need to look back to know that the entire mob was chasing after her. She could hear their screams and frantic footfalls across the tiles.

  Her heart revved up and threatened to burst through her chest. Her feet throbbed as they struck the cold stone steps. But she couldn’t afford to stop, because the death that pursued her was relentless.

  She reached the top of the staircase and turned right. Her stomach threatened to purge itself as her flight reflexes kicked in and sought ways to make her body lighter and faster. Her inner cavewoman took over and sent her racing across the landing at a speed that would leave her bedridden with muscle soreness tomorrow. But the pain would be worth it if it meant getting out of this situation alive.

  Her destination was Room 7 and she hurtled past the lower numbers on either side of her: 1…2…3…4.

  The mob was still behind her, crashing into the walls of the hallway like drunken pinballs, smashing into potted plants and side tables.

  Keep running. Don’t stop. Ignore the pain.

  Just as she passed room 5, someone jumped out at her. Her instincts almost made her stop, but her brain took control and reminded her that stopping would mean death.

  The two people in front of her were both young and attractive. They had slipped out of room 6 and were clearly not infected. They stared at Annaliese with wide, terrified eyes as they quickly realised that she was in no position to help them. If they had been hoping for rescue, she was going to have to disappoint them.