Savage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

by Wright, Iain Rob

  The end of the pier was where the games pavilion was located. It was far away, a five-minute walk. “Okay,” she said, confused. “What do you want to show me when we get there?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I hate surprises.”

  “You’ll like this one.”

  Mr Birch led Poppy along the pier. They walked in silence, yet there was a subtle smile on the man’s face, as if he wanted to laugh but dared not. Poppy sometimes wore that same expression when she was playing hide and seek and trying not to be discovered – the urge to laugh would always take over her and Garfield would find her in an instant.

  “Here we go,” said Birch, moving over to the railing at the end of the pier and waiting for her to join him.

  “Can I see what you want to show me now, please?”

  “Not yet, it’s still a surprise.”

  “Oh, pleeease?” Poppy hopped up and down.

  Birch shushed her. “Quiet! You don’t want the others to hear us. It’ll ruin our fun.”

  Poppy frowned. “I don’t see what fun we’re having yet.”

  Birch grinned at her. His teeth were a little crooked and the moonlight shone off them in all directions. He stepped up against her and started to rub her shoulders. It felt nice, but weird. She barely knew this man and he was touching her. Not even Garfield ever touched her like this. “What are you doing?”

  “Just being a friend. Doesn’t that feel good?”

  “Sort of. It feels weird.”

  Birch rubbed deeper, his thumbs and fingers probing over her neck, shoulders, and chest. “People used to make each other feel good all the time back before things got so hard. It only feels weird because nobody ever taught you about making another person feel good. Do you want to learn?”

  Poppy chewed at her lip. She suddenly felt very alone with this man, yet he wanted to teach her things – and treat her like an adult. “I guess so,” she eventually said.

  Birch smiled and leaned closer. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek and Poppy could smell the sweat on him. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Now, you rub me.”

  Poppy reached forward. Her hands were trembling. When her fingertips were only inches away from his neck, Birch grabbed her wrists. “No,” he said. “That’s not where you rub a man.” He kept a firm hold on her wrist and began to move her hand downwards, towards his…

  Poppy pulled away.

  Birch twisted her arm and made her cry out. He grabbed her chin with his other hand and snarled right in her face. “Now you be quiet, you little cunt, or I’ll throw you over the railing and watch you drown. I’ll say you was messing around and fell in. Adults never trust children so they’ll believe me. Behave, little girl, or else.

  Poppy whimpered. “Please,” she begged.

  Birch ignored her and shoved her hand up against his crotch. She cringed as she felt something hard and warm beneath his trousers. “There you go,” he said, shuddering. “Now you’re learning.”

  “Step the hell away from her.”

  Birch released Poppy’s hand and spun around. Poppy fell to the deck and and started wailing. She looked up through her tears and saw a man emerging from the shadows. It was Alistair. Am I going to be in trouble? Alistair is always telling me to behave and I’ve been really bad. Really really bad. I’ve let Anna down. I promised to stay with her.

  Birch straightened and smiled merrily. “Hello, there. Not just me who has trouble sleeping then, I see? How are you doing tonight, friend?”

  Alistair’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I’m doing just fine. I told you to step away from the girl.”

  “Of course. I was just having a chat with her.”

  “Like hell you were. Poppy, sweetheart, come over to me.” Poppy leapt up off the floor and raced over to Alistair. She felt safer as he shoved her behind him, but even so, she couldn’t help but tremble and sob. I don’t understand what’s happening.

  Birch put his hands out in front of him and clasped them together like he was saying a prayer. “I think there’s some sort of misunderstanding here, friend.”

  “He made me touch his thing,” said Poppy between sobs.

  Alistair patted Poppy on her head but kept his eyes on Birch. “Seems like things are pretty clear to me.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Birch went to walk back down the deck, but Alistair blocked him. The two men stood and stared at each other. Both of their big bellies wobbled.

  “Get out of my way.” Birch snarled.

  Alistair shook his head with disgust. It was the same face he pulled whenever they had crab for dinner. Alistair hated crab. He made a snorting sound, too, like the rhinos at the zoo. “Who the hell are you people?” he demanded. “Pirates and Paedophiles? I guess the world’s a playground, huh?” He turned his head and spat on the deck. “I have more respect for the dead.”

  Poppy grimaced. Alistair didn’t usually spit; her mummy told her it was a dirty habit.

  Birch’s eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. “Watch yourself, friend. You don’t want this fight, believe me.” He went to move past Alistair again, but Alistair blocked him same as before. Birch snarled and went to say something, but didn’t get a chance.

  Alistair punched him right in the face. Poppy was shocked and frightened, but also a little glad. He should hit him again. Birch stumbled backwards, but didn’t go down. He spat blood and swore loudly. Then he rushed at Alistair with his fists in the air. Alistair ran to meet him head-on, like a charging bull, and the two men collided. Birch rolled back on his heels, off-balance, and Alistair hit him in the face again.

  This time Birch went down and his nose began to bleed. “You’re a dead man,” he snarled from on his back.

  Alistair laughed. “You’re the fat knacker sat on his arse, not me.”

  Birch leapt up and came at Alistair again. This time Alistair kicked the man in the shin. Birch flinched and bent over to grab his poorly leg, which allowed Alistair to drive his knee up into his face and send him flying backwards. Poppy winced at the cracking sound.

  Birch hit the deck again. Blood covered his face and looked like an oil slick under the moonlight. Poppy scurried away and cowered behind the pier’s rusty pretzel stand. She wanted the violence to be over, but couldn’t help but watch. Alistair was winning, but the fighting was still making her tummy sick. I don’t like it.

  Birch clambered unsteadily to his feet again. His snarling, blood-soaked face made him look like a monster. Poppy watched him pull something shiny from his belt, and when she saw that it was a knife she almost threw-up in fear.

  “You don’t want to take it to that level,” Alistair growled, but he suddenly seemed less sure of himself. Poppy’s heart beat fast. Boom boom boom. If Alistair got hurt, would the bad man get her again? I don’t want to touch his thing.

  Birch came forward with the knife. The metal caught the moonlight as he waved it back and forth. Alistair stood his ground. Then Birch pounced, much quicker than a man his size should have been able to. He thrust out with the knife and managed to slash Alistair, who was barely able to sidestep in time to avoid the knife entering his ribs. Blood poured from a newly opened gash on his left forearm.

  Poppy placed a hand over her mouth.

  Birch swiped the knife again, but this time he missed completely. Alistair grabbed at the man and tried to wrestle the weapon away. Poppy stood frozen while the two men shoved and twisted against one another, each of them battling to gain control over the knife.

  Just as it seemed like Alistair was getting the upper hand, Birch head-butted him right on top of the nose. Blood exploded from his face and sent him staggering backwards.

  Birch leapt forward, knife plunging through the air.

  Poppy screamed out as loud as she could.

  The noise distracted Birch for a split second and Alistair was able to react in time to block the knife attack and lock in a bear hug. The wrestling match continued.

  Poppy could watch no more. She had to get help. She had to get
Anna or…someone. Before she knew it, she was racing back down the pier, screaming and shouting for someone to come. She would have called for Garfield, but he was not there. I told him not to leave.

  Poppy thanked God when she went hurtling into Anna. “What is it?” she asked her. “What the bloody hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night? Garfield is going to be so upset that you disobeyed me.”

  “It’s Alistair,” Poppy spluttered. “He needs your help.”

  “Alistair, why, what?”

  Poppy grabbed Anna by the arm and pulled her. “Just come, quick.” She raced back towards the end of the pier, taking Anna with her. Anna demanded explanations, but there was no time. Alistair was in danger.

  They reached the end of the pier and the two men were still fighting. Alistair now bled from a wound on his chest as well as the one on his forearm. Birch still held the knife and was swinging it through the air wildly.

  “What the hell?” said Anna.

  Alistair spotted her and shouted out. “Anna, you need to get the others. He was trying to hurt Poppy. We need to make the new men leave.”

  Anna looked down at Poppy and frowned in confusion.

  Poppy looked at her and tried not to cry as she spoke. “He tried to make me touch his thing.”

  Anna seemed to glow bright red in an instant and a scary look came over her face. She trembled for a moment, clenching and unclenching her fists. Then she ran straight at Birch. The man turned to face her, but he was too late to stop her from kicking him right in the balls. Poppy didn’t have balls but she winced all the same. Ouch!

  Birch said a bad word as the breath exploded out of him all at once. He swung his knife at Anna’s face, but Alistair tackled him just as the blade was about to part her cheek. The two men tumbled to the ground and resumed their fighting, rolling around like duelling cats, biting and scratching and punching. Blood spattered everywhere.

  Alistair was on top.

  And then Birch.

  Then Alistair again.

  Then Birch got the upper hand. He had the knife and was on top of Alistair again.

  Anna kicked Birch in the back just as he was about to plunge the knife into Alistair’s chest. She kicked him so hard that he bucked forward and dropped the weapon completely. The blade skittered across the deck and came to a stop over by the railing. Alistair punched Birch in the face three times and the man finally stopped struggling. He slumped forward and fell asleep.

  The fighting was over.

  Anna dragged Birch away from Alistair who remained on his back, panting. Poppy stayed by the pretzel cart, trying to catch her breath but finding that her lungs had turned to sand.

  There was nothing but silence for a long time. Only the sound of people breathing.

  Eventually Alistair let out a moan from on his back. Blood stained the front of his shirt, but belonged to Birch as much as it did him. Poppy went and knelt beside him, before giving him a great big hug. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, lass. Another fine mess you’ve got me into, huh.” Poppy laughed. She had always hated the way Alistair moaned at her and told her off, but she was glad of it now. If he were gone she would miss him. He went to get up off the deck but collapsed back down again and moaned again. “I’m too fat for this nonsense,” he muttered.

  Poppy giggled. “You are a bit fat.”

  Alistair rolled his eyes. “Bloody charming! I save you and that’s the thanks I get, huh.”

  Poppy kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  Alistair gave her a serious look. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  Poppy nodded but felt like she needed to cry. She tried to be brave and didn’t.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner, girl,” said Alistair. “If not for the fact I’m so paranoid, I may not have found you at all. I knew those men were trouble after the way they behaved in the diner. I was up and about, making sure they weren’t up to no good. Worst I expected was theft, but not…this.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Birch said between laboured breaths. He’d woken up again, but was still flat on the deck. “You people just screwed up big time. You’ll pay for this.”

  Anna booted the man in the face and sent him back to sleep. Poppy winced. “He was hurting me,” she told Alistair, “but you stopped him before he did anything really bad. Why did he want me to do those things?”

  Alistair sighed. “One day you’ll understand, but it’s not something a young girl should worry about. Stay a child for as long as you can, because it don’t get any easier with age.”

  “I thought you said I had to grow up and start being useful.”

  “And when did you ever listen to me?”

  “I’m listening to you now.”

  “Well, I was wrong. You grow up when you’re good and ready.” He kissed her on the forehead.

  “Everything’s okay now,” Anna told her. “Nobody is going to hurt you.”

  Footsteps on the deck made them all look up. It was Roman and the older man called Fox. Roman had his sword drawn and was glaring at them all. “You just made a big mistake,” he said.

  DAMIEN

  Damien couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Birch was bloody and beaten, lying half-conscious like Sonny Liston with the woman standing over him like Ali. Birch had come ashore in peace, an envoy for the fleet, and these idiots had beaten him half to death. The woman, Anna, who Damien had met with earlier, was standing over Birch with a defiant look on her face, while her fat companion was bleeding on the ground nearby with the little girl in plaits kneeling beside him. What the hell did I just miss?

  Birch was no friend of Damien’s, he barely knew the man, but his treatment was inexcusable. This tiny group of survivors at the pier seemed intent on defiance at every turn. They were protecting the cripple he was after, and now they had done this. Were the fools planning to turn their attacks on Damien next? Would he be forced to cut them down and return to the Kirkland soaked in their blood? He hoped not, but he was willing to do what was necessary. “You just made a big mistake,” he said, staring down at Birch.

  Surprisingly, it was not the fat man or the woman who came forward with an explanation, but the young girl, Poppy. “He started it,” she said, pointing her finger at Birch. “He took me out here all alone and was trying to get me to touch his thing. Alistair was just stopping him.”

  Damien’s mouth fell open. “Wha…?

  “It’s okay, Poppy,” said Alistair, dragging himself up off the floor and patting her on the arm. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

  Damien narrowed his eyes. Had Birch really been attempting something unthinkable? The man was lying on his back covered in his own blood, but when Damien spotted the man’s own knife lying on over by the railing, he began to have concerns. “Birch, can you get up? I need to know what happened.”

  Birch moaned and rolled onto his side. “Give me a second.” Everybody stood by in silence while he struggled up to his knees and then eventually onto his feet. The man’s nose was bloody and bent. His lower lip was swollen.

  “What the hell happened here, Birch?” Damien demanded.

  Birch spat a mouthful of blood, and when he spoke his words were wet and spluttery. “They attathed me for no reathen.”

  Alistair disagreed immediately. His plump face was a picture of hostility. “You tried to assault a child!”

  “Lieths.”

  “Quiet,” said Damien. He stood there impassively, trying to make sense of the situation. Who do I believe? My own man, surely? But what if he’s guilty? In the end Damien decided to get the truth from the horse’s mouth. He turned to the young girl, Poppy, and asked her what had happened. If she lies, I’ll know. She’s just a kid.

  The girl looked pale and frightened, but when she answered her words were clear and confident. “He wanted me to touch his thing. He grabbed my arm and told me he would throw me off the deck if I tried to struggle.”

  Alistair snorted angrily.

>   Birch denied the accusations.

  Damien rubbed at his forehead with the back of his forearm. “Please tell me they have the wrong end of the stick here, Birch.”

  “Yeah,” Fox chimed in. “Because if it’s true, you’re the one who should take a trip over the railing, Birch. Only a monster would hurt a child.”

  Damien gave Fox a chastising look. The last thing he needed was one of his men condemning the other. “Is it true, Birch? What the girl says?”

  Birch cleared his throat, puckered his lips, and endeavoured to speak clearly. “No, of course not. I was out here, taking in the night, when the girl came running around the corner like a bat out of hell. We was chatting for a while, but then the next thing I know, this fat shit is taking a swing at me.”

  Alistair snarled. “You’ve got a few rolls there yourself, mate. Least I can get myself a woman, instead of going after kids, huh.”

  “Quiet,” said Damien.

  “Who are you to quiet us?” said Anna.

  “All I know is that you’ve assaulted one of the men sent here in friendship. Not to mention that you’re harbouring a terrorist of the fleet. I’m in a fine goddamn position to make demands. In fact, I think it would be bloody cushty if you people stopped playing silly beggars and gave me what I came for. You’re starting to get right on my tits.”

  Alistair spat. “We ain’t giving you nothing.”

  Damien sliced his sword downwards in an arc and slit a furrow into the fat man’s blubbery gut. His shirt tore away and blood appeared. “Give me what I ask for,” said Damien, “or I’ll take it in strips of bacon.” Poppy cried out as Alistair fell backwards onto his elephantine backside. “It’s okay,” Damien assured her. “He’s not hurt. I was just giving him a warning.” It was true enough that the blow had been intended only to split a few layers of skin. There was more to gain from a threat than a murder.

  The little blonde girl looked up at him with fire burning in her eyes. “You’re a bad man.”

  “They’re all bad,” said Alistair from the floor, clutching his belly with his bloodstained fingers. “Nothing but bullies.”