Savage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

by Wright, Iain Rob

Damien frowned. While he didn’t consider himself a good man exactly, he didn’t consider himself a bully either. I’m not trying to hurt these people; don’t they see that? Why are they acting like I’m the enemy? The fat guy looks like he wants to kill me, and the woman looks like she’ll want to piss on my remains.

  Damien bristled. He was unsure how to proceed. He didn’t know whether their accusations against Birch were true or not, but he knew that they at least believed them to be. Damien was an unwanted guest who had brought trouble to their doorstep. They weren’t about to compromise with a man they saw as defending a rapist. Even an alleged rapist.

  Damien lowered his sword. “Look, I don’t know what happened here. All I can say is that my sole intention is to locate the man I came here for. I don’t want to cause you people any more trouble than I have to, but I’m not leaving here until I have him.”

  Anna folded her arms across her chest. “He’s not here. You already know that.”

  “I know that’s what you say.”

  “They’re a pack of liars,” spat Birch. “They have him hidden somewhere.”

  “You’re the liar,” said Poppy in a voice as forceful as any adult.

  “I’m not leaving,” said Damien. “I can’t.”

  Anna laughed at him spitefully. “Well, then we’re shit out of luck, because you say you’re not leaving, but I promise you that you are. Either you go nicely or we’ll send you back to your precious mothership in bait buckets.”

  Damien sighed. “You’re not being smart. I’ll fight you all if I have to.”

  “And I’ll back you up,” said Fox.

  “Try and stop me,” snarled Birch.

  Alistair laughed. “You think you can cut us all down? I dare you to try.”

  Damien raised his sword and let out a long sigh. “Don’t make me do this. Just hand over the man I came for.” I really don’t want to have to do this.

  “We don’t have him,” said Anna.

  “I don’t believe you.” Don’t make me do this. You’re pushing me.

  Anna shrugged. “Then you’d be best off leaving.”

  Damien glared at the woman. Her stony gaze showed no signs of wavering. Her brown eyes were like orbs of conviction. “I can’t leave,” he said coolly. “Not without the man I came for.”

  “For the last time, he’s not here.”

  She’s not going to budge. She has balls as big as I do. Damien gripped his sword tightly, preparing to use it. But violence isn’t going to solve anything. That’s not why I’m here. From the corner of his eye, Damien saw Birch move. He was edging along the deck towards the railing. Damn it, Birch. Don’t do it.

  “He’s going for his knife,” shouted Poppy. “Stop him.”

  Alistair charged at Birch, but Birch was quicker. He couldn’t get a decent grip on the handle in time, but was able to smash the grip into the fat man’s nose, dropping him to the deck.

  “Stop,” shouted Damien. “Birch, stand down. This is not helping.”

  Birch turned on Damien and snarled. “Fuck you, Roman. This prick broke my nose.”

  “Stand down!”

  Birch ignored him and marched over to Alistair. The man was clutching his face and bleeding heavily from a broken nose. “Now we’re even, you fat fuck,” snarled Birch. “But maybe I need to teach you a lesson on top.”

  Damien shoved Birch aside just as he was about to deliver a kicking to the downed man. “Will you cool it, you bloody muppet!”

  “Calm down, Birch,” said Fox. “You’re acting like a bleedin’ psychopath?”

  “He is a psychopath,” said Alistair, spitting blood onto the deck as he propped himself up on his elbow. “He’s a kiddie fiddler, too.”

  Birch exploded with rage. “You’re a dead man.”

  Damien tried to restrain Birch, but the larger man threw a punch and struck him on the jaw. Damien’s vision exploded with stars and he stumbled sideways.

  Birch charged at Alistair and booted him in the ribs. Alistair cried out in agony. Anna dove at Birch and clung to his back, clawing at his face. Birch thrust his head backwards and caught her under the chin. She dropped to the floor like a sack of spuds.

  Birch resumed his attack on Alistair, standing over the man and snarling like a wolverine. He raised his knife in the air, blade pointed downwards. “Say goodnight, you fat piece of shit.”

  Alistair grinned wide. Blood stained his teeth red. “Kiddie fiddler.”

  Birch roared and plunged his knife downwards.

  Damien had shaken the stars from his vision but had not recovered quickly enough to stop Birch. As it turned out, it was Poppy who managed to stop him from killing Alistair.

  A split-second before Birch drove his knife into Alistair’s gut, the young girl barrelled into him from the side. He stumbled onto one knee, cursing, but was quickly upright again. He glared at Poppy and snarled. “You little bitch!”

  He slashed his knife at her face.

  She screamed.

  Damien leapt. Drove his spear into Birch’s ribs. Yanked it free. Stabbed again.

  Birch wheezed and dropped down onto his knees. Then he started bleeding…badly. He glared at Damien and went to speak, but only blood spilled from his mouth. He fell face down on the deck and stopped breathing, looking like a washed-up seal.

  Poppy staggered backwards, a small sliver of blood on her cheek where the tip of Birch’s knife had kissed her. I saved her just in time.

  Fox was shaking his head and pacing. “This is a complete mess. Jesus. What the hell, Roman? You killed Birch”

  Damien swallowed back a mouthful of bile. “I had no choice.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Anna said quickly. “Birch tried to hurt a child and you stopped him. You had no choice.”

  You people gave me no choice. Damien stared down at Birch’s body and let out a snarl. “I came here to collect a criminal. If you people hadn’t messed me around then this would never have happened. I wish you’d just fucking lied about having him here in the first place.”

  “He’s not here,” Anna said. “He was, I admit it, but he disappeared. I don’t know where he is. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I’m here,” said a voice, which caused them all to turn their heads as one.

  Damien’s eyes narrowed. There you are indeed.

  The cripple was striding down the pier on his double crutches like some strange insect. A slender black man walked beside him with a look of noble concern upon his face. The remaining members of the pier approached, too, several paces behind. Suddenly Damien and Fox were outnumbered ten to two. I really shouldn’t have killed Birch.

  “Here I am,” said the man who Damien had shot just a few days ago. “I hope you’re not disappointed to see me alive. I owe my life to the kind people of this pier. They patched me up and kept me safe until I had some of my strength back. I must have a guardian angel for them to have found me in the state you left me in.”

  “I must own the blame for having hid him,” said the black man in a soft African accent. “We have been beneath the pier,” he added. “On the sands.”

  The cripple hobbled forward on his crutches. “You wanted me, Roman, so here I am. But why don’t you tell these people what this is really about before you take me away.”

  “This is about you rigging a bomb in the Kirkland’s engine room. Over three-hundred people would have died if you’d set the bloody thing off – not to mention the danger it would have posed to the rest of the fleet.”

  The cripple grunted and edged closer on his crutches. In the moonlight of the pier, his copper hair looked silver, as if the night itself were an alchemist. His ripped t-shirt was heavily bloodstained, but it was obvious his wound was healing. He wouldn’t have been on his feet if it were not. “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “I did try to bomb the Kirkland, but not to kill innocent people. There’s just one man I mean to kill.”

  Damien pointed his sword out to sea, over towards where he imagined the Kirkland to be po
sitioned in the darkness. “The captain. Samuel.”

  “Yes, Samuel Raymeady, former CEO of Black Remedy Corporation. Former billionaire and all-around badass dude. I hear Time magazine were about to do a cover on him just before everyone went all Night of the Living Dead. A shame, really.”

  Anna’s eyes went wide. “Samuel Raymeady? You mean the richest man in the world is in charge of all the boats out there?”

  “Makes sense,” said Alistair. “The richest man in the world probably had a better chance of surviving than anybody else bloody well did, huh.”

  Damien growled. “It makes no difference who the captain is or used to be. He’s the reason all those people out there are alive right now – him and the money he put to good use when it mattered. He’s a hero and you tried to kill him, along with a bunch of innocent people.”

  “So it’s true?” Anna asked the cripple. “You did try to blow up the ship?”

  “I did, yes, although I failed quite epically. I have no idea how they discovered my plan.”

  “Then I can’t protect you,” she said. “You’re guilty.”

  Damien lowered his weapon and turned to Fox. “Thank Christ for that. We can finally get the hell out of here. Fox, go and grab him. I want to get off this pier before anything else goes wrong.”

  “What about Birch? Should we bring him back with us?”

  Damien shook his head. “I’m sure our friends here will do the honour of tossing him in the sea. Best place for him.”

  “But he was one of us. We should-”

  “He was a bloody moron, and the reason this situation went so far south. Long as we get the cripple back, that’s all that matters. Samuel won’t care about the rest.”

  The cripple tutted. “I do wish you’d stop calling me that. My name is Tim, not ‘cripple’. I’ll go with you willingly,” he said, struggling with his crutches. “But just let me share a little secret before you take me off to be executed.”

  Damien took a step forward and raised his sword. “You’ve got nothing I want to hear. I’ve already killed one man tonight. Don’t make me finish what I started with you several days ago.”

  “I think you should hear him out,” said the African man.

  “Do you know something, Rene?” Anna asked. “Is that why you hid him?”

  “Yes, he tells an interesting tale.”

  Anna nodded. “Then I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Damien shook his head and grunted. “I’m not interested in stories. If you don’t come with me now, you’re going to get these people killed.”

  “Then you should let him speak quickly,” said Anna. “The night has been long enough already. What are a few more minutes going to hurt?”

  Damien shrugged. “Fine. Speak. Then you’re coming with me.”

  The cripple propped himself up tall on his crutches so that everyone could see him clearly. When he spoke he spoke slowly, as if he did not want a single word to be misheard. “The man in charge of that Royal Navy frigate is Samuel Raymeady, former CEO of the UK-American conglomerate, Black Remedy Corporation. As its majority shareholder, he gained control of the organisation after the death of his biological father and mother, their American partner, Vincent Black, and all of that man’s heirs as well – their collective demise is not a coincidence, I assure you. Since taking over the company, Samuel Raymeady has had one intention – controlling the world, and then destroying it. With all his wealth, power, and numerous philanthropic facades, he made the world love him, which allowed him to succeed with his life’s work. That work is clear for all to see. He brought it all down on us. He caused the apocalypse, just to prove he could. I imagine it’s the ultimate power trip for a man that has already risen as far as any man can go. With unlimited wealth, power, and respect, what else is there but to become a god?”

  Everyone stood in shocked silence. Damien shook his head in disbelief. These people are buying it. I’ve never heard such a load of bollocks in my life.

  The cripple pointed to Damien. “This man here was the man who shot me, and he claims that Samuel Raymeady saved all of those people out there on the sea, but that’s not the truth. The truth is that Samuel Raymeady killed all but a few of us. The virus that took everything, the ungodly bio-weapon that wiped out 99% of the world’s population, was his sole creation. He made it, he released it, and he is responsible. Samuel Raymeady is the Devil, and from the ashes of the world he hopes to become a god. Those boats out there are his nation, and with them he hopes to build an empire. An empire of the damned.”

  Damien gripped his sword tightly and waved his spear arm through the air in a furious slash. “The world has ended, you muppet. We’ve lost doctors, scientists, Olympic athletes, inventors, and yet despite all that, we’re still stuck with deluded maniacs trying to blow people up because of misplaced blame. It’s ironic, that even now the world has been crushed to dust, there are still madmen combing over the rubble and trying to find a crusade to kill people for.”

  The cripple wobbled on his crutches and suddenly seemed to weaken. His wound was obviously still taking a heavy toll on him. “Perhaps I am a little nutty – I certainly wonder about my state of mind after all I’ve seen – but I promise you that I didn’t imagine Samuel Raymeady breaking my back when he was an eight year old boy. Not that anyone ever believed he was guilty – angel-faced little monster that he was. There were, of course, a few other true believers that joined my cause over time. Monopoly commissioners ignored at every turn, victims of Samuel’s aggressive corporate expansion tactics, competitors who stood in his way and were crushed, and even a group of priests who believed him to be the antichrist. We all tried to expose Samuel’s true intentions, but each of us was dismissed as hacks or paranoid fantasists. Samuel was too well loved and beyond reproach. Any deep digging into his affairs would be blocked at every turn. He controlled everything.”

  Anna put her hands up and rubbed her face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is frying my head. Are you saying that Samuel Raymeady, the world’s biggest philanthropist, tried to exterminate mankind?”

  “And broke your back?” Alistair added.

  Anna cleared her throat. “Yeah, and that.”

  Tim nodded. “Pushed me from the balcony of his home – but that’s a jaunty little caper to be told some other time. That was when I first met Samuel Raymeady. I’ve been keeping tabs on him ever since: hacking his computers, researching his financial activities, generally spying on him in whichever ways I could. I managed to gain a little traction on the Internet, and even got a few column inches in the paper, but Samuel wielded too much power – most of the press were in his pocket along with most politicians. It was impossible to stop what he was planning. I was helpless to do anything as he loaded a cruise liner full of deadly virus and sent it sailing for mainland Europe with a crew of doomed souls. I tried to leak his plans, and so did my colleagues, but the newspapers, the authorities, Samuel’s competitors, didn’t want to hear it. They dismissed me as a crank. Bet they wished they’d listened to me when the infection finally hit. That cruise liner was Samuel’s Trojan horse and the whole world was his Troy.”

  Anna frowned. “Are you talking about the cruise liner that sank in the Med over a year ago? How could it have released a virus in Europe if it sunk?”

  “Rescue workers contracted the virus from the wreckage and took it with them inland. It was all over then.”

  Damien stabbed the point of his sword against the deck with a thud! “What an absolute crock. This is all just a load of nonsense you read in an airport thriller novel.” He turned to the members of the pier. “This lunatic isn’t worth your lives. Hand him over.”

  “If I’m such lunatic, then why did I have help rigging the bomb on the Kirkland?” He grinned at Damien mockingly. “That’s why your glorious dictator wants me dead so badly. He knows someone else aboard the Kirkland is working against him, but he also knows that I will never give up the name of my co-conspirator. But my death will serve to send a clear
message to my partner not to try anything again. It would also stop me telling my story to the people on his precious ship. Last thing he wants is a mutiny. Don’t you think it’s strange that he sent you ashore to kill me several days ago, Roman? Why not bring me in to answer for my crimes? I’m only a poor cripple after all.”

  “I’m bringing you in now,” said Damien.

  “Only because Samuel doesn’t want the people on this pier to see his mercilessness. They may yet be of use to him; there’s no point scaring them unduly.” He looked down at Birch, face down on the deck. “Although, I think you might have ballsed that up already, though. Nice going, hero.”

  Damien was out of words. Was the reason Samuel was so adamant that Tim be killed that he did not wish the man to share his wild conspiracy theories? Was he so afraid of this man’s insane ramblings? Who would believe such a far-fetched tale anyway? And what about the man’s co-conspirator? “Tell me who your partner is,” Damien demanded, “or so help me I’ll cut you down right now and your new buddies will have to sweep you off the deck.”

  Tim looked amused by what he was about to say, like a Barrister ready to present a killer piece of evidence in some grand courtroom. “Of course, I’ll tell you,” he said. “It’s somebody you know, Roman – a good friend of yours, in fact. As I understand it, he’s the only friend you have. Which, might I just say, is pretty sad.”

  No.... Damien swallowed. “Harry?”

  “Yes,” Tim said. There was a belittling smirk on his bony, unshaven face. “Harry and I were working together. When he heard my story, he was more than willing to help. He’s a good man, but you already know that, right? He pretty much brought you up, or so he told me? So, Roman, tell me, do you still want to take me back to the Kirkland? What if Samuel breaks me? What will become of your only friend then?”

  “You lie!”

  “Speak to him, Roman – or should I call you Damien.”

  He knows my name. Only Harry knows my name. Damien felt faint. If Samuel found out that Harry was conspiring he would kill him. Is it even the truth? Or just the cripple’s veiled threat? If I take him aboard, will he insinuate that Harry is a terrorist? Is that his play here? Is he using Harry as leverage?