Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

by Iain Rob Wright

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It took more than thirty minutes for Annaliese to help Clark carry Charlotte’s body into the ground floor office. What made it more difficult was that blood spilled from the girl’s body whenever they tilted her slightly. It had been a challenge not to get covered in it.

  Is the blood infected?

  Now she and Clark were in the middle of disposing of Tom’s body. The security guard was far heavier than Charlotte had been and both Annaliese and Clark were sweating buckets.

  “Did you know him?” Clark asked, nodding to Tom as he hugged the man around the waist.

  Annaliese shook her head. “Never met him. I wonder what happened to him, though. I wonder how he got infected inside here all alone.”

  “Maybe he came to work already infected.”

  Annaliese reaffirmed her grip on Tom’s legs as she felt him slipping. They were almost back at the office with the corpse now and it was going to be a relief to finally set it down. “I don’t know how it’s even possible for a virus to infect the entire world over night. It should be impossible.”

  Clark kicked a chair out of his path and shuffled backwards into the office. He began to pivot around to find a space to set Tom’s body down. “Maybe whoever is to blame coordinated several outbreaks of the virus at once. Maybe a bunch of terrorists synchronised their watches before tipping the biological motherload into the local water supplies.”

  Annaliese bent her knees. She and Clark set Tom down on the ground beside a large photocopying unit. She thought about the theory that terrorists were responsible. “You know, that sounds pretty plausible. If this was terrorists then it would make sense to release it simultaneously in multiple locations. I just can’t believe that anyone would be so insane. Surely no one is that much of a monster.”

  Clark huffed. “The only difference between Adolf Hitler and an ordinary lowlife on the street is power. When people get the power to destroy their enemies and further their own agendas, then that’s exactly what they do. If any terrorists had the ability to wipe out the western world then I bet all of them would press that little red button in a heartbeat.”

  “We don’t know that this is exclusive to the western world.”

  “No, we don’t. But maybe time will tell.”

  “You’re quite the theorist for such a young guy.”

  Clark sighed. “I’m studying History part-time – not that I expect to go to classes ever again. You can learn a lot about mankind from its past. People aren’t that different now than they’ve ever been. Same nature, same behaviour; it’s just the technology that changes.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I’ve always been more of an animal person than a people person.”

  “Well, then you’re in luck, because it looks like the human race has been turned into a bunch of animals.”

  She looked at Clark and tried to figure out his condition. He seemed to have snapped out of his shocked daze and was now more than happy to have an engaging conversation with her; but he was being very negative.

  “How are you doing, Clark?” she asked him.

  “How do you think?”

  “I know, I know. We’re all doing shit. But do you need anything? Are you going to be okay?”

  Clark turned away, as if unable to look at her. “I really loved her. She didn’t know that, but I did. She was way too beautiful for me. I felt lucky when we were together.”

  “You’re going to get through this, Clark. We’re all going to stick together and come though the other side, okay?”

  Clark turned back around and nodded at her. “Thanks. I’ll be alright. I think I just need to be on my own for a while. Would you mind leaving me alone? I want to say goodbye to her in private.”

  Annaliese looked down at Charlotte’s body where they had positioned her under a desk. It almost looked like she was playing hide and seek with them. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll leave you to it. Just stay back from the window in case there’re any infected people that have made it out from the manor.”

  “Will do. And thanks again, Anna. Me and Charlotte would still be cooped up in that hotel room if you hadn’t rescued us.”

  “No problem.” She stepped out of the office and closed the door behind her. Mike was in the corridor and approached her as she headed back to the staffroom.

  “Hey,” he said. “I was just coming to find you. Everything okay?”

  Annaliese nodded. “As well as can be expected. I’ve left Clark to himself for a while. He’s not doing well, but I think he’ll be okay. He’s still talking and that’s the main thing, but he’s in a lot of pain right now.”

  Mike nodded. “Not surprised. He’s what, twenty maybe? That’s pretty young to be stuck in a situation like this. Losing Charlotte probably left him feeling pretty alone. But, hey, what can you do?”

  “Nothing, I guess. We’re all lucky just to be alive. I suppose we should try and find the positive in that.”

  Mike held open the door to the staffroom and let Annaliese pass by in front of him. The pool table was now home to a modest collection of snack food and some bottled water.

  “I’ve been checking around for rations,” Mike explained. “Found some odds and ends in people’s desks upstairs, but that’s pretty much it right there. We’ve got the vending machines in here to go through as well, so we should be good for a day or two.”

  Shawcross entered the room. He was carrying a fan heater in his hands. “I found this in one of the offices upstairs. I’m thinking it might get pretty cold during the night so it might help to keep us all nice and snug.”

  “Good idea,” she admitted. “But if things are as bad as they seemed on the news, then I figure it isn’t long before the power goes out.”

  “Shit, I never thought of that,” said Mike. “How long do we have, you think?”

  “There’s a backup generator,” said Shawcross. “They built it to keep the heated exhibits like the reptile house functioning even during a power cut. I don’t know how much juice they keep in the batteries, but I think we’ll get at least a couple days.”

  “How do you know about that?” Annaliese asked him. “I didn’t think you had anything to do with the zoo.”

  “I was here when they installed it. It’s buried in the woods behind the zoo where guests can’t see it. Thing makes a terrible racket up close, but thankfully it’s only been put to use once before.”

  “Well, at least we have a little bit of additional grace if the electrical grid fails,” said Mike.

  “Or we’ll be lit up like a beacon. The only place with power for miles.”

  “A beacon to whom?” asked Shawcross.

  Annaliese shrugged. “I don’t know. I just think our biggest asset right now is anonymity.”

  “I think the opposite. The news said there are still rescue operations in place in some places. Tomorrow we should light a signal fire and let people know we’re here. Smoke from all the way up here would be seen for miles around. We have a better chance than anybody at being rescued.”

  “I think that would be a totally dumb idea. We have something that everybody in the world will be looking for: a defensible position. The last thing we want to do is advertise what we have to a desperate population.”

  “She’s right,” said Mike. “What if we light a fire and a hundred people turn up on this hill. What food we have left would be gone in an hour. And what if some of them are bitten on their way here? We could be crawling with infected before the day is through.”

  Shawcross thought about things for a moment, but then shook his head adamantly. “If we still had access to Ripley Hall then I might be inclined to lay low, but we’re all doomed if we try to stay here indefinitely. We’re too exposed. Rescue is our only priority, and tomorrow that is what we must work towards.”

  Annaliese went to argue, but stopped herself. She didn’t have the energy. She put her hands on her hips. “Fine, whatever you say. I’m going to get some rest. If the world stops end
ing then you have permission to wake me.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she ambled over to the staffroom sofa and collapsed onto it face first. The slumberous feeling that immediately washed over her was heavenly. The blood in her body seemed to stop moving and settle in her veins. Her muscles turned to jelly. Within seconds, she felt sleep coming to snatch her away.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Every time Annaliese went to sleep without having drank alcohol first, she dreamt about her baby. She dreamt about the baby she never knew. The little boy that never was. She dreamt about Baby.

  She saw her son’s face. His closed eyes and tiny nose. Eyes that would never see and a nose that would never take a breath. She only got to hold her baby boy once, and he had been dead.

  Once upon a time, Annaliese had given birth to a baby boy with no name. Every time he crossed her mind she thought of him as Baby. She thought about what Baby would have looked like now, ife he had lived to see four years of age. She wondered if Baby would have looked like his dad. She wondered if Baby’s dad would still be around.

  Then she would wake up in tears. Every night the same.

  Until she found alcohol.

  Then the dreams stopped. But the headaches and nausea started.

  Tonight, though, she could not escape her dreams. They kept a hold of her and twisted and tore at her soul. Tonight she dreamt of Baby as a ghoul, back from the dead to come and drag her down to Hell where she belonged. Baby had died in childbirth, murdered by his mother who was too weak, too inhospitable to bring him to term. He was denied the most basic gift of life, while his wicked mother lived on. Now Baby was back. His tiny teeth were bloody, and coming for Annaliese’s flesh. They would tear her apart, chew her up slowly until there was nothing left but her disembodied screaming.

  And as she screamed, so too did Baby.

  Baby screeched like the infected people. It hurt her ears and she begged for it to stop.

  Stop, she cried.

  Please, Baby, stop.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

  I wish it was me who had died.

  I wish you were alive and I was dead.

  Please, Baby, stop screaming. I’m begging you to stop.

  Annaliese woke up in darkness. Something covered her face. She shot bolt-upright and clawed at her neck, trying to get free of whatever clung to her.

  It was a coat. Someone must have covered her with it.

  Annaliese’s kicked out with her legs and found the floor. Then she remembered that she had fallen asleep on the sofa in the staffroom. Then she remembered, with oily sickness in her belly, all of the other things that had happened.

  All of the death.

  Everywhere, death.

  The room was dark and Annaliese could hear snores from several sources. She also heard something else; something she was sure was the reason she had woken up.

  Wailing?

  The muffled sound of someone – or something – in pain floated into the staffroom like a ghostly visitation. It seemed to echo off the walls and entwine with the darkness. Moonlight shone in through the gaps in the room’s now-closed curtains and made things seem even more ethereal.

  Am I imagining it?

  She straightened up and went over to the nearest window. She ducked her head beneath the curtain and peered through the glass. There was nothing outside but the narrow silhouettes of the trees outside.

  But the wailing continued. It was a weak, pining sound.

  Eventually, she realised what the sound was, and where it was coming from.

  Lily.

  The female orang-utan was still pining the loss of her family.

  She’s lost everything. She’s all alone now, not even watched over by her keepers.

  Suddenly the thought of such a noble creature being totally alone and in such pain was more than Annaliese could bear. Pain bloomed in her chest cavity like a growing fist. It was a pain she only ever felt when she thought about Baby.

  She fiddled with the bottom of the window and searched for a catch. She eventually found it, not at the bottom but at the top. It slid open with ease, letting in the cold air with a frosty hiss.

  Against all of her common sense, she lifted her leg up onto the windowsill. She tried to keep her movements quiet, to avoid waking the others. She heard the soft whirring of Shawcross’s fan heater and was glad for the audible cover it provided for her own soft noises.

  She lifted her other leg and slid out through the window. Her wellington boots came down on soft grass outside.

  Lily’s wailing continued, full of anguish, full of pain. Annaliese prayed for it to stop. But it didn’t.

  She rounded the corner of the building and headed for where she thought the orang-utan habitat was. It was disorientating to walk around the park in the dark. Bradley had always been there to guide her around.

  Poor Bradley.

  She missed her colleague. She wished she had had the chance to take him up on his offer of eating a lovely meal someplace in town, instead of being in the nightmare she was in now. There were many things she regretted.

  But do any of them even matter anymore?

  Up ahead, the wailing got louder. The ghostly silhouette of a mangrove tree came slowly into view. Annaliese found Lily sitting at the base of the tall tree, staring down at the ground and weeping loudly. The body of Brick and the infant were lying in the centre of the enclosure, placed together in a small huddle that resembled a cuddle between father and son. Lily was not looking at them. Perhaps it was too painful.

  “You poor, poor thing,” Annaliese said softly as she observed the heartbroken creature.

  In the silence of night, and with keen animal hearing, Lily heard her voice. The orang-utan slowly raised her head up and scanned left and right until she spotted Annaliese standing there outside the enclosure.

  “I’m sorry,” Annaliese said. “I didn’t mean to creep up on you. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

  Lily stared at Annaliese for what seemed like forever, but during that time her weeping had stopped. Then the orang-utan did something that took Annaliese by utter surprise. Lily raised up one of her arms and waved. It was a sad wave, a weak wave, but the fact that she now had ceased whimpering made it clear that the animal did not want to be alone. She was glad Annaliese had appeared. Lily was glad not to be on her own.

  Amazing.

  Annaliese had an extremely stupid idea, but she was determined to try it out anyway. It was something she needed to do, but also maybe something that the broken soul inside this enclosure needed even more.

  She headed around to the enclosure’s bungalow and approached the entrance door. It could be opened by a magnetic keypad for which she knew the code. While she had not examined the orang-utan herself in the past, Bradley had once allowed her access to show her around. She remembered the number.

  1235

  She keyed it in and let herself into the bungalow. Inside was a cement prep area and a small office cubicle. There was also a wire mesh enclosure that housed an indoor sleeping area for the orang-utans. It led right out into the enclosure.

  To Annaliese’s dismay, the caged area was locked with a padlock. She let out a sigh, but didn’t let it defeat her. She pushed on the office door and was happy when it opened.

  The room inside was dingy, but the glow from a computer monitor gave her pupils enough light to make out a few details. Her attention was immediately drawn to a small metal closet, the size of a house brick, on the wall. She went over and fumbled with its edges.

  Please be unlocked.

  She found a small catch and managed to slide it. The small metal closet fell open without any effort at all.

  And inside was a single brass key.

  She snatched it up and headed out the office. She took the padlock in her one hand and prodded the key into its base with her other. It slid in perfectly.

  When the cage unlocked, she took a deep breath. Was she really about to do this?

  Yes. Abs
olutely.

  With her mind made up, Annaliese slid inside the cage and entered the small paddock. Set into the concrete wall was a four foot hole. It led out to the mangrove enclosure.

  She crawled through it and went outside.

  The smell of death hung around the enclosure, but so did the natural musk of the orang-utans. It was a strange mixture, one which she put out of her mind as she crept towards the Mangrove tree ahead.

  Lily was still sitting in the same position, leaning back against the base of the tree and staring down at the ground. When Annaliese got closer, Lily turned her head and snorted, and for a second the whole thing seemed like a really bad idea. The last time humans had been in this enclosure there had been bloodshed. Annaliese wondered if Lily could distinguish the difference between her and the infected people that had attacked her mate and infant.

  If not then I’ve made a horrible mistake.

  Despite her fears, Annaliese kept moving forwards towards Lily. The animal eyeballed her suspiciously.

  “Hey, there,” she said softly. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  She was now within a few feet of the orang-utan and nothing had happened so far. The atmosphere was tense, but the primate seemed to tolerate her proximity.

  “There you go,” she said, reaching out her hand. “It’s okay, Lily.”

  Unbelievably, Annaliese found herself within a single foot of the great ape now and was beginning to bend her knees and sit down.

  Letting out another billowing snort from her nostrils, Lily extended one of her long arms. Her huge fist struck Annaliese and made her cry out. But she quickly realised that the orang-utan was not seeking to hurt her. She was just being curious. Lily’s fingers caressed the fabric of Annaliese’s shirt.

  “I’m usually a little cleaner than this,” she explained without knowing why. She sat down on the ground beside the animal.

  Lily stared at Annaliese and hooted. It was a curious sound, but not aggressive in the least. Annaliese shuffled up next to the animal so that their shoulders were touching.