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Savage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

Page 27

by Wright, Iain Rob


  Damien examined the sword in his hands, eyes moving up and down the sharp shaft. He seemed possessed. The vacant expression had returned to him and he seemed more animal than human. He turned to face Anna.

  Anna wouldn’t beg like Tim had, she had already decided that. She was going to die, one way or another, sooner it just be over with. One thing she did do, however, was stare Damien in the eye. She wanted him to look at him as he killed her. I hope my face haunts his dreams.

  Damien lifted the sword in the air and let it hover above her neck. There was utter silence from the crowd.

  “Frank, be ready,” said Samuel. “Cut him down the moment it looks like he might make a bad decision. We’ll torture the woman for the next year while he watches.”

  Anna saw a brief flicker in Damien’s eyes and a quivering lump in his throat. He still has a conscience, she thought. This isn’t easy for him, but he has no choice. Can I even blame him? Now that she knew he felt guilty for what he was about to do, Anna did Damien the kindness of closing her eyes and looking away.

  “That’s it Roman,” said Samuel. “Do it, and all will be forgiven.”

  “My…name…is…Damien.”

  Anna opened her eyes and saw Damien spin around and kick Frank in the guts. Two crewmen immediately went to accost him, but he sliced both of them down with a vicious slash from his sword. Blood splattered his rage-filled face and made him look like some ancient berserker. Anna wanted to get up and flee, but there was nowhere to go. She was frozen on her knees as the chaos erupted all around her. I need to do something.

  Samuel pulled a pistol from inside his officer’s coat and pointed it in Damien’s face, ending his rampage before it even got truly started. Frank recovered from being winded and seized Damien by the shoulder. “Big mistake,” Samuel said. “You think I wasn’t ready for that? You fool.”

  Damien smirked, blood covering his face. He threw his bloody sword down on the ground at Samuel’s feet. “No, captain,” he said. “But were you ready for this?” He dove down to the floor and flopped on top of Anna, pancaking her to the deck. Anna struggled and squirmed beneath Damien, but was confused as he yanked something from the back of his jeans. It’s whatever Harry handed to him.

  Samuel pointed his pistol and hissed in anger.

  Damien pressed a button in his hand and all hell broke loose. Again.

  DAMIEN

  Damien had known right away what Harry had slipped into his waistband. It was a detonator. Working in the Kirkland’s workshop meant Harry was no stranger to a bit of chemistry and he had inferred earlier that he had rigged something up to do what Tim had failed to. There were many industrial chemicals in the workshop, from cleaning fluids for the machinery and tools, to gasoline and fuel for the welding rigs and acetylene torches. If anyone could rig a bomb aboard the Kirkland, it was Harry. What Damien had not known was where the bomb was or how big it was. When he pushed the button he was finding out the answer along with everybody else.

  The answer turned out to be: very big.

  The explosion started as a deep rumbling beneath their feet but quickly travelled throughout the ship until it shook the deck like an earthquake and bucked the entire frigate forward. Bodies flew everywhere and water travelled upwards like rain in reverse, exploding from the sea. Damien lay on top of Anna and clung to the deck to keep them from going overboard. Dozens were less lucky and plummeted into the sea like flailing ragdolls. Blood and screams filled the air like a whirlwind. Holy shit, Harry. What the hell did you put in that bomb?

  The Kirkland’s bow raised up at a 45-degree angle as the aft deck began to sink beneath the water. The entire rear of the ship sloped towards a maelstrom of flaming saltwater, which waited to consume the flesh of anyone unlucky enough to fall into its boiling waters.

  Anna moaned beneath Damien. “Why do people keep blowing me up? This is like the third time today.”

  “I don’t know,” said Damien. “You must be a real arsehole.”

  Anna laughed and Damien suddenly felt better. He was certain he would die in the next five minutes, but at least his final actions had brought a smile to a woman’s face. Harry’s talk of redemption was not lost on Damien; he wanted to make his final minutes count.

  He leapt up and looked around for his sword, but it was gone. No doubt it had skittered down the sloping deck and into the sea. He was sorry to see it gone. I have a man to kill but no weapon. Guess my bare hands will have to do.

  Anna got up from the tilting deck and staggered towards him. He caught her in his arms and set her right on her feet. “Thanks,” she said to him. “What’s the plan, Rambo?”

  Damien shrugged. “We could go to the bow and cuddle. I could shout ‘I’m the King of the world’?”

  Anna frowned. “I’m more of a Terminator 2 kind of gal.”

  Damien held his hand out to her. “Then come with me if you want to live.”

  Anna took Damien’s hand and they raced through the chaos on deck. People wept and bled everywhere, but Damien held no compassion for them. They were happy enough to execute Harry and Tim. They got what they deserved.

  “Where are we going?” Anna asked breathlessly as they ran. It was hard keeping balance on the uneven deck. He wondered if her shins were crying out as much as his were.

  “We’re going after Samuel,” he told her. “If he’s still alive, there’s only one place he’ll be.”

  “His chambers?”

  “No. He’ll be on the bridge, readying the guns. He won’t take this lying down.”

  “Shit!” said Anna. “He’ll fire on the pier again?”

  “Yes, only this time he won’t be using the cannons. He’ll fire missiles.”

  “We have to stop him. There are another eleven of us at the pier. They were away when everything started, but they must have come back. We have to save them.”

  “We will,” said Damien. “Samuel Raymeady is going to go down with this ship, I promise you.”

  They entered a hatch door at the side of the ship and entered the passageway inside. It was cramped, narrow, and at an angle, but the walls made it easier to balance. Damien turned a corner up ahead but skidded on his heels. Anna bumped into the back of him. She has to stop doing that. I’m going to end up with a bruised arsehole.

  Lieutenant Dunn was blocking the passageway with another man standing beside him. The man had a hand missing just like Damien did, but his stump was bloody and bandaged. It was the American, Wade Cannon. The guy I dismembered. Wonderful. In Wade’s good hand was Damien’s sword. Guess it didn’t fall into the sea after all.

  Dunn smirked. “End of the line, Roman. You’re about to die by your own sword. How deliciously ironic.” He turned to Wade and gave an order. “Civilian, kill these two terrorists and you’ll have the thanks of the captain and the entire fleet. You’ll be a hero.”

  Wade grinned and raised Damien’s sword. “You took my hand, Roman,” he growled, but then he turned to face Dunn beside him. “But it wasn’t so long ago that you were going to execute me as a criminal, Lieutenant Dunn.”

  Dunn suddenly looked unsure of himself. He eyed the sword wavering in the air between them. “Now…look. That was just my job. I was doing wha-”

  The American shoved Damien’s sword into Dunn’s guts and left it there. Blood exploded from the officer’s mouth and splatted the walls of the passageway.

  Dunn staggered towards Damien with his blood-soaked hands out, pleading. Damien head butted him in the face and let him fall to the floor. He yanked his sword free from the man’s guts and left him to die in pain.

  Damien strolled up to the American and cleared his throat. “So did you want to take a shot at getting your revenge on me? Because now’s the time, Wade. I’ll be dead later.”

  The American smiled and shook his head. “You saved my life. A missing hand was a small price to pay.”

  Damien nodded. “Plus the chicks dig the stump. You’ll see.”

  The American laughed.

  �
��Get out of here, Wade. If you’re lucky, you’ll get picked up by one of the boats of the fleet. The Kirkland is going down.”

  Wade nodded and fled through the passageway towards the deck.

  “I’m not going to even ask about the history between you two,” Anna said. “The stumpy twins.”

  “Best you don’t ask,” he said, and then led her down the passageway to a ladder leading upwards. “The bridge is up there. You ready?”

  Anna nodded.

  They climbed the ladder quickly. With the ship canting the way it was, it was more like crawling forward than climbing upwards.

  Damien entered the bridge ahead of Anna and was taken by surprise when someone tackled him before he had chance to straighten up.

  Anna called out to him.

  Frank glared at him.

  Damien raised his stumped arm and tried to bring his elbow across the man’s chin, but Frank kneed him in the thigh and sent searing pain throughout his entire body. Damien tried to bring his sword up, but Frank swatted it away and judo-threw him to the floor. Damien lay on his side and winced. This old sod’s tougher than he looks.

  Samuel stood at a wide console across the room, fingering buttons and pulling levers. Anna emerged from the hatch and froze when she saw what was happening. Frank booted Damien in the ribs to keep him down, but it didn’t stop him from calling out to Anna. “Samuel,” he wheezed. “Get…Samuel.”

  Frank snarled. He yanked Damien up off the floor like a ragdoll and looked him in the eye. “You try to kill my son? You try to kill my little boy. You don’t understand anything. You’re an idiot. AN IDIOT!” He head butted Damien in the nose and broke it. Damien fell to the floor, clutching his face in agony. I probably deserved that.

  Anna sprinted towards Samuel but was knocked to her knees by a vicious backhand. Samuel followed it up by booting her in the stomach and sending her into heaving spasms. He took off his captain’s jacket and threw it to the floor angrily. “Do you people never learn? You are like mosquitoes on my hide. I am a lion and you are worthless bugs. The fleet is the future of humanity. I will lead mankind to a new dawn, for I am its new god.”

  “You’re insane,” said Anna. “No man is a god. You’re no different to any other deluded lunatic from history who thought power equals greatness. But look around you, Sammie; Rome is burning. Your empire is crumbling.”

  Samuel chuckled. “An apt metaphor, considering the company. Frank, stop playing with Roman – or whatever his name is – and bring him here. I would have these two watch while I show them what strength my crumbling empire still possesses.”

  Frank shoved Damien forward and held him against the console in front of the window. Samuel picked up Anna and shoved her up beside him. Through the bridge’s wide glass window, Damien saw a hundred ships scattered across the sea. Some headed towards the Kirkland, collecting men-overboard, but many others sailed away into the distance. They’re fleeing. The Kirkland’s charade of safety has been shattered and they’re scurrying away like cockroaches found beneath a fridge.

  In the distance, Damien spotted the ruined pier. It was too far away to see anyone, but he imagined a tank hidden on the shoreline, ready to sink them with one last shell from its mighty turret.

  Samuel lifted up a Perspex lid, which covered a large red button beneath. The fact that the button was big and red was almost comical, but there was no cause to laugh when Samuel began to prep the frigate’s missile bay. Two hatch doors opened on the foredeck, revealing the two Tomahawk X triple-launchers hidden there. Damien knew that each missile carried a 1,200lb warhead – Harry had told him about them after having been put in charge of their maintenance one time. If Samuel fired the entire barrage at the pier, there would be nothing left for a square mile.

  “Would anybody like to do the honours?” asked Samuel. “No? I thought not.”

  He was about to press the button, when Frank spoke out. “Samuel, enough people have died today. The Kirkland is lost. We must leave while we have chance. Vengeance has no use.”

  Samuel turned on his father with a vengeance. “I will not tolerate any more disobedience from you, Frank. Vengeance is all we have left. The Kirkland was what gave me power and I must make use of it if I have any hope of regaining control.”

  “You don’t need to be in charge,” said Frank. “You’ve already saved enough lives that people will forever respect you.”

  “I was born to be in charge. I was born a leader.”

  Frank looked at Samuel pityingly. “You were born a babe like anyone else. Circumstances made you who you were. The things that happened to you as a child hardened you, but now you have a chance to step back and be the man you want to be, instead of the man you were born to be. There’s no reason to fire those missiles, son. Let’s just get out of here.” He reached out his hand.

  For the first time Damien had seen, Samuel’s face softened and a sliver of doubt appeared. For a brief moment, he sounded remorseful. “You have served me well, father. You raised me when everybody else had died or abandoned me. I had dreams of you growing old by my side and watching me achieve greatness.”

  “You have achieved greatness, Samuel.”

  “I haven’t, but there is still time.” Samuel pulled his pistol from a holster beneath his armpit and fired it into Frank’s forehead. The old man fell backwards like a domino and hit the floor. Damien blinked. Jesus Christ. Anna shook her head silently.

  Samuel turned the pistol on the two of them, preventing them from capitalising on the distraction. There were tears in his black eyes as he spoke. “I always knew Frank was weak. He fought it as much as he could, and I naively hoped he would overcome it, but he was never cut out for the new world. I’ll miss him.”

  Damien snarled. “You just killed your own father, you psycho. Now you say you’ll miss him like it was some kind of tragedy.”

  Samuel sighed. “He was no one’s father. My own father died many years ago. I barely knew the man.”

  “So you have daddy-issues,” said Anna. “Figures.”

  Samuel snarled. He pointed the gun at Anna, apparently done with idle chitchat and reminiscing. “Press the button,” he told her. “I want you to say goodbye to your precious pier.”

  Anna shook her head. “I won’t. You want them to die, you do it.”

  “Oh, but where is the fun in that? I like to see people take responsibility for their actions. Press the button or I’ll take out both your knees.” He lowered the pistol and aimed it at her legs.

  That was all the chance Damien needed. He smashed Samuel in the face as hard as he could with his fist, but the blow was weak. His body was tired and broken. His strength had departed him. Samuel staggered backwards, more from surprise than pain.

  His pistol went off.

  Damien had to follow up the attack before Samuel recovered. He threw his arms out and shoved the captain back against the command console. He tried to get his fist up, to throw another punch, but his arm would not rise. It remained limp at his side.

  Samuel growled, clamped his teeth around Damien’s ear and tore away a chunk of lobe. Then he smashed him in the side of the head with his elbow. Damien slumped to the floor and spotted the reason his arm had not responded: the bullet from Samuel’s pistol had shattered his elbow. Fuck, that hurts.

  Samuel aimed the pistol down at him and fired again.

  Damien’s vision went white, then black, then every colour in between. Stars speckled his vision and a deep sickness washed over him. He glanced down at himself and saw blood spilling from his stomach like water from a leaky pipe. He tried to move but couldn’t. He tried to shout but couldn’t. His mouth filled with a thick liquid that tasted like old pennies.

  Samuel chuckled. “You lose again, Roman. How many times must I beat you? Oh well, if you want something done right, best you do it yourself.” Samuel reached out for the big red button on the console, ready to launch the missiles.

  Damien tried to get up, but the whole world spun before him.
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br />   Samuel’s fingertips settled on the top of the button and he grinned at Damien. “Here come the fireworks,” he said, grinning even wider.

  Then the smile turned to a grimace and the tip of a sword appeared through his chest.

  Samuel’s black eyes bulged like swollen inner tubes. His mouth opened to speak, but only thick, dark blood came out. He clutched at the sword jutting from his chest and stumbled around to face the other way. Anna stood before him, panting and wincing, but unflinchingly defiant. Samuel reached out for her neck, perhaps to try and throttle her, but he fell to his knees before he was able to get her. Anna grabbed the top of his head and pushed him sideways, where he promptly toppled and bled out on the floor. “Hasta la vista, bitch,” she said.

  Damien wanted to cheer, but his lungs felt like two blocks of ice and he couldn’t find his breath.

  Anna stared down at him with concern. “Shit, are you okay? You’re shot.”

  Damien tried to smile, but could not feel his lips. The only thing he felt was cold. His vision was curling inwards at the edges like a piece of rolled-up parchment.

  Anna dropped down beside him and looked into his eyes. “I can help you,” she said. “I used to be a vet.”

  Damien managed to swallow whatever liquid had filled his mouth and caught a shallow breath. His words were frothy and wet as his spoke. “D-don’t be a dickhead. The ship is…sinking. I’m done.”

  Anna shook her head. “I’ll get you out of here. We’re leaving together.”

  Damien blinked. Sadness and happiness combined to overwhelm him. His life did not flash before him like the movies said. Instead he saw only the present; it was a place without guilt or regret, a place where he had done what was right. That was all that mattered in the end: not how things started or even progressed, but how things were finally left. He couldn’t help but feel peaceful as he felt his life slipping away. The battles of his life were coming to a finish and he was satisfied with how they had ended. The last few minutes of his life almost made the errors of his past meaningless. Violence had consumed his entire life, from his childhood to now, but he was thankful that his final act of rage had served a purpose. The people on the pier would live. Anna would live. Most importantly of all, Samuel would not. Damien was happy with how the scales of his life had balanced. He was ready to let go. And so he did.

 

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