“Help me! Somebody, please!”
Nick glanced across the road to see a woman racing across one of the lawns. He recognised her as the middle-aged blonde that lived opposite. He’d rarely spoken to her, but he was pretty certain her name was Lara.
Now she was running towards him with the looming spectre of a man – possibly her husband – close behind her.
Nick stood still and watched in confusion. “What’s wrong, Lara?” he asked her once she got close enough. “Are you okay?”
But it was clear the woman was not okay. Her eyes were wide and bloated with fear. A ragged gash ruined the left side of her face. It looked like a bite mark.
“My…my husband. He’s trying to kill me. Please, you have to help m-”
Lara’s husband barrelled into the back of her, crushing her up against Nick’s car. From across the roof of the vehicle, Nick watched in stunned silence as a domestic disturbance commenced right in front of him.
He’s going to bloody well kill her if he’s not careful.
Nick had seen enough and raced around the car, ready to intervene. Lara’s husband had pinned her to the floor and was clawing at her neck and face. She screamed and writhed, batting away the attacks as best she could. But it was a battle she was losing. He husband was twice the size.
Nick thrust out both his arms and managed to shove Lara’s husband off of her. “What the hell are you playing at?” he demanded of the man. “You ought to be bleedin’ locked up.”
The man came at Nick without a word, squashing him against his car. The bodywork crumpled under the impact. Nick shook his head and tried to get to grips with the situation. The man was bigger than him by about half a foot and the extra leverage was all it took for his arms to give way. With each passing second, the crazed man managed to bring his snarling face a little bit closer.
The nutter’s trying to bite me.
Just like Deana.
Nick thought about the bite mark on Lara’s face and realised that her husband had obviously been the one to bite her. He looked down at her now and saw that she was scurrying away on her rump. He shouted for her to help, but she shook her head and continued backing away.
Thanks for nothing.
With no other obvious option, Nick performed, for the first time in his life, a head butt. His forehead connected firmly with his attacker’s nose and something stiff cracked and became soft, but the bigger man did not release his grip. Nick’s arms continued to grow weak as his attacker’s jaws got closer and closer.
After the head butt, the bigger man’s features had become a mashed-up canvas of blood and pus. It was then that Nick realised that whatever had taken a hold of the man’s senses was the same thing that had seized Deana and James. The man was beyond reason or retreat. The man was suffering with the same sickness as Nick’s family.
“Let go of me,” Nick pleaded, knowing it would do no good as his arms began to bend at the elbows. Jagged teeth snapped shut mere inches from his face. The smell of rancid breath became nauseating. But, just when he expected to feel the agonising crunch of being bitten, the weight in his arms fell away. He was once again free.
“You can’t mess around with these people,” someone said. It was the cankerous old man that lived in the detached bungalow at the end of the road. The one who was always complaining about people parking on the curb in front of his house. “You got to beat ‘em down, right away, before they get their teeth into you.”
Nick was doubled over and gasping for breath. He noticed the blood-soaked golf club clutched in the old man’s gnarled fists. The wood was clumped with hair and what might have been brain matter.
“You…you can’t just cave people’s skulls in like that. That man was sick. He needed our help.”
“You’re a naïve fool. These people aren’t sick. Don’t you understand? They’re goddamn zomb-”
The elderly man lurched forward, the golf club falling from his hands and clattering on the tarmac. Nick hopped out of the way just in time to see that two more of his neighbours had appeared out of the dawn shadows. The two of them were snarling and spitting like a pair of wolves and they took the old man down like a winded fox.
Nick stepped back, unable to take his eyes off what was happening. How is this possible? How has everybody gone insane?
He looked down at his elderly neighbour and saw that it was already too late to help him. The old man’s throat had been torn free of his neck and the tubular mass of his windpipe was hanging to one side like a loose tie. The two neighbours that had attacked him were now crouched over the body and doing the unthinkable.
Christ, they’re eating him.
Nick fought to keep his stomach under control. His mind turned to action. He grabbed the driver’s side door of his car and swung it open as hard as he could. It caught the nearest neighbour square in their face and sent him reeling backwards.
Nick wasted no time and leapt in behind the steering wheel, slammed shut the door, and engaged the central locking.
Click! It was the sound of safety.
His neighbours rose to their feet, discarding the remains of the old man and beating their bloody fists against the car’s windows. The vehicle rocked back and forth. Nick keyed the ignition and put the engine in gear. The automatic headlights flicked on and bathed the road in their harsh glare. It was then that he saw the full scale of horror taking hold of his neighbourhood.
This can’t be real. I’m in a twisted nightmare and any second Deana is going to wake me up with a nice cup of tea and let me know that it’s time for work. This has to be a dream. It has to be…
Ten feet ahead, a woman lay dead and mangled in the centre of the road while, several feet beyond her, was a desperate man battling with a group of attackers. They seemed to be eating him alive, tearing chunks of flesh from his flailing arms and wrists as he wearily fought them off.
The whole neighbourhood is under attack. It’s like bloody Sarajevo.
One of the houses on Nick’s right was billowing thick black smoke from some unseen fire taking hold. Muffled screams came from inside and joined the ones that were already filling the air with their collective buzz.
People were fighting and dying all around him.
Nick sat in his car, staring through the windscreen, frozen by what he was witnessing. There was just too much to take in. So much horror. It filled his eyes and ears.
Stumbling down the road towards him was a young boy, not much older than James. He wasn’t quite like the other sick people, though; he was slower and clumsier then they were, almost like he was drunk. When the boy stepped into the cone of the car’s headlights, Nick saw that his intestines were hanging out and dragging on the ground behind him. Every couple of steps the boy would tread on them and stumble.
How is that kid still walking? His guts are on the floor, hanging out like kebab meat.
Nick couldn’t take any more. He gear-changed into reverse and shot the car backwards. He kept going, until the shadows reclaimed the nightmarish child and the chaos of his street. Once there was nothing left to see, he stamped on the brake and stopped the car.
He sat there for a few seconds, hyperventilating. For a brief moment he almost convinced himself that it was all over and that he was the one who had been sick all along, hallucinating with fever.
There’s nothing happening here. When I head back to the front of my house I’ll see that I was just imagining it all. Maybe I’m the one with fever.
But he knew that wasn’t true. People were dying and he needed to get help. Help for Deana.
Nick shifted back into first gear and rolled the car forwards, picking up speed as quickly as the 2-litre engine would allow. The sooner he found help, the better things would be. Somewhere there would be people dealing with the situation. Somewhere there would be answers and-
Nick stamped on the brake again.
“Goddamn it!” he shouted, more out of fright than anger.
It was Lara.
She banged
on the windscreen with her palms. “Let me in, please!”
Nick shook his head. He didn’t have time for this, nor did he owe the woman anything after she had left him alone to fend off her husband.
He brought the clutch up, ready to take off.
“Please,” she begged him.
Nick sighed. He flipped the toggle on the dashboard to disengage the locks. “Get in the back. Quickly!”
She nodded gratefully and made for the rear passenger door but, before she managed to open it, someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her back into the shadows. Nick heard her screams, but he could not see what was happening. He waited a few seconds, unsure how to proceed, before finally deciding that Lara was a lost cause and that he should just drive off.
But then the woman reappeared out of the shadows and leapt for the car. She yanked open the door and sprawled onto the back seat. She was bleeding badly, but it was impossible to tell from where.
“Go,” she spluttered at him, pulling the door closed behind her. “G-g-get the fuck out of here.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Nick gunned the engine and took off as quickly as the car could accelerate. He had to steer erratically to avoid knocking over his various wandering neighbours, including the disembowelled young boy, but he managed to make it to the end of the road without running into any further trouble. There was a war being waged in his neighbourhood and he was retreating. The screams filled the air behind him.
Steering the car onto the main road, leaving the chaotic nightmare behind him, Nick let loose a sigh of relief. It felt good to be on the road and moving fast.
I’m just dreading having to stop again.
A few moments later, once his breathing was back under control, he turned and checked on his passenger. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
Lara nodded, but her skin had lost all colour. Her clothing was soaked with dark blood. She was an absolute mess. Hardly surprising considering the shock she had been through and the attack she had endured.
She’s lucky to be alive.
Nick focused on the road. The sun had now risen fully above the horizon and the shadows were shrinking away. The world seemed to be coming alive.
But it had awoken in a panic.
Travelling in the opposite direction on the main road was a police car. It was going full pelt; its sirens blaring, its lights flashing. A fire truck headed along right behind it.
“This is nuts,” Nick said. “What in Christ’s name is happening? Did I miss a terrorist attack or something?”
“M…my husband. He just went crazy.”
“It’s not just him, Lara. Everyone is acting the same. I don’t know why.”
“He…he’s never ever tried to hurt me before.”
Nick sighed. She wasn’t listening. “Your husband is sick. He wasn’t in control of himself.”
Other cars entered the main road from multiple side streets, creating a steady stream of increasing traffic. All of the drivers were exceeding the speed limit, some outrageously so. Nick had only been on the road ten minutes when he witnesses a turquoise Vauxhall Astra hurtle into a ditch at ninety miles an hour. The vehicle crunched up like an accordion. The chances of surviving such an accident seemed pretty unlikely and Nick wasn’t about to try and help someone so reckless. He drove on.
One thing had become very clear: what had happened in Nick’s neighbourhood was not an isolated incident; people everywhere were fleeing. To where exactly, Nick did not know, but his own destination was clearer. He had to make it to the hospital; talk to a doctor and find out if Deana could be helped; at least find out if they understood what was happening. Then, once he finally had some answers, he would start to face up to what he had done; start processing the fact that he had killed his own son. How he would ever come to terms with that, if at all, he did not know.
A pile-up up ahead caused Nick to slow down. A motorcyclist took it as an opportunity to overtake, but was quickly forced to decelerate as well. The entrance to the duel carriageway was choked by an overturned lorry and a crumpled police car. There was no room for another vehicle to get past and the road was a bust, but the guy on the motorbike had other ideas. The leather-clad rider obviously thought he could squeeze his chopper through the gaps and keep heading forward.
Nick stopped the car and put on the handbrake. He watched the biker trundle along at a snail’s pace, kicking the bike along manually and trying to manoeuvre it through the twisted wreckage. Just when it looked like he might actually get clear onto the highway, a female police officer ran at him from behind the lorry. She tackled him clean off his bike and dragged him to the ground. Seconds later the motorcyclist was screaming as more people appeared from the wreckage and started tearing him apart.
Nick took a breath and tried to keep his focus despite the fact that his heart felt as if it was about to beat out of his chest. He backed up the car as much as possible before coming up against the other vehicles queued up behind him. Then he performed a U-turn into the opposite lane and began heading the other way. The duel carriageway was the quickest way to the hospital by far, but he had no choice now but to take the back roads. The main roads and highways were quickly becoming too dangerous, littered with pile-ups and bewildered pedestrians.
Not to mention the other people trying to rip them apart.
He pulled off the main road onto a country lane that he knew would eventually bring him out near the hospital. The housing estates and shops gave way to woodland and private cottages. These properties seemed undisturbed compared to the chaos of Nick’s own neighbourhood. The middle-class families that lived here were likely still sleeping soundly, while everywhere else had spun into madness.
The lane became clear up ahead and Nick stamped on the accelerator to pick up speed. He kept the car close to the verge, not wanting to collide with anybody coming the other way. Overhanging branches whipped against his wing mirrors.
Nick took the opportunity to check on Lara. He glanced back. “I’m heading for the hospital, okay? I need to get help for my wife. Your husband will need help, too. Not to mention you could probably use a doctor yourself.”
Lara did not answer him. She just moaned something that could have been an affirmative response. Blood leaked from all over her body and she slumped on the back seat.
A van pulled out of a nearby brickyard and Nick had to slow down to avoid crashing into it. Unbelievably, the driver nodded a polite ‘thank you’ as he passed by. The man would get the shock of his life when he entered the main roads and saw all the chaos and bloodshed. Part of Nick thought about warning the man but, by that time, the van had already driven too far in the opposite direction.
Up ahead, the country road widened into a crossroad intersection. Nick slowed down again as he spotted a pair of crunched-up saloons. The two vehicles appeared to have smashed into each other head-on at speed, reducing them to shattered wrecks of jagged metal and torn rubber, rather than the luxury automobiles they were designed to be. The two cars were blocking the centre of the road, but there was still room to get around them if care was taken.
Nick pulled the engine down into second gear and kept his speed below twenty. The last thing he needed was to add his own vehicle to the wreckage and having to walk to the hospital.
A shuffling behind him made him look around at the backseat. Lara was lying face down now and having some kind of seizure. Her blood coated everything and the smell of it filled the car. He was pretty sure she was dying.
He brought the car to a crawl and swivelled around. “Hey,” he shouted back to her. “Hey, Lara, are you okay? I’m going to get you some help, but you need to stay with me until I get there. You need to stay awake a little while longer.”
Lara managed to lift her head slowly and glance at him. Her seizures stopped.
Satisfied that his passenger was still conscious for the time being, Nick turned back to face the road. He got the car moving faster again, picking up speed cautiously as he approached the
wreckage ahead. The two smashed-up saloons were close enough now to see that both were unoccupied. Seemingly the drivers involved had managed to walk away from the accident in better shape than their vehicles – luckily for them.
A groan made Nick turn around again. “Everything is going to be alright,” he told Lara. “Just hold-”
Lara lunged forward, diving through the gap between the front passenger seat and the driver’s seat. Nick was taken by surprise and both of his feet slipped from the pedals as he found himself shoved forward against the steering wheel. Lara climbed onto his back. She clawed at his coat and yanked at the wool of his collar with her teeth.
In the close-confines of the car, Nick was unable to fight back. He could not turn around and shove Lara off of him. The car was still moving forward, but losing speed as the engine idled. Nick was grateful he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt as he would have been held in place, helpless. It also made leaning down and shoving open the driver’s side door that much easier. It was his only chance of escape.
The road zipped by as Nick leaned down, the rough gravel only inches from his face. Against all instinct, he kicked out with his legs and managed to launch himself out of the car. He hit the road clumsily, cracking his elbow and grazing his face against the unforgiving surface. He tumbled and rolled for what seemed like forever, every split-second filled with agony.
Eventually, he came to a stop by the side of the road. He lay there, disorientated and staring up at the sky. His vision was muddled, but as he craned his neck he watched his car carry on without him. It was doing no more than fifteen miles an hour now, but it had been fast enough that the fall had hurt him badly.
The near-new Alfa Romeo collided with the smashed-up saloons in the middle of the road and seemed to hop slightly upon impact. It came to a sudden stop, letting out one last grumbling whine as the bonnet popped free and exposed the turbo-charged engine.
Nick blinked his eyes, trying to clear away the dizziness and flecks of gravel. There goes my No Claims bonus.
Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel Page 4