Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

by Iain Rob Wright

  Annaliese barged past Shawcross angrily and made her way inside the building with Mike right behind her. The door slammed shut and finally she was safe again. But for how long, she did not know.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You were just going to leave me out there to die!” Annaliese shouted in Shawcross’s face. The building they were now standing in was the zoo’s reptile house. The atmosphere was humid and the only lighting was from flickering lengths of weak strip-bulbs.

  “I have to look out for the group,” he rebuked. “I thought you were done for. They had you. You were never going to make it.”

  “And yet here I am, alive and well. Thanks to Mike.” She turned to the man that had saved her life and bowed her head to him. “I owe you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. “We never would have gotten out of that damned kitchen without you, so we can call it even. Looks like you ran a little rescue mission, too.” He motioned to Clark and Charlotte.

  Annaliese nodded. “Yes, this is Ch-”

  “Charlotte and Clark. Yeah, I know,” said Mike. “We work together at the Tamworth branch.”

  “It’s good to see you’re okay, Mike,” Charlotte muttered.

  “You too. I was beginning to think no one else made it.”

  “Where did those infected come from?” Shawcross demanded. He was leant up against a tank full of corn snakes. The reptiles were pressing their triangular faces up against the glass in a vain attempt to inspect him further.

  Annaliese shrugged. “We had to jump from an upstairs window. The infected followed us out.”

  “Damn it!” Shawcross banged a fist against the corn snake’s terrarium, making them hiss and flick their tongues. “Then we’re trapped in here no better than we were in the kitchen.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said. “We have multiple exits now and open space inside and out if we have to make a run for it. Besides, Mike took two of them out. There’s not many out there now – just a couple.”

  “What if they keep coming through the window?” Charlotte asked. “There could be dozens and dozens of them.”

  Annaliese shook her head. “If they can’t see you, they just tend to mill about aimlessly. I don’t think they’ll jump out the window unless they spot someone to chase. They should all be secure inside the house as long as we don’t get close enough for them to see us.”

  “So they’re all locked up safe?” Charlotte asked, obviously looking for reassurance.

  Annaliese nodded. “As long as we lay low, everything should be-”

  She stopped mid-sentence.

  “What?” Mike asked. “What is it?”

  “The doors. You left the front doors of the house wide open. There’s nothing to stop them just wandering out into the grounds.”

  Mike stamped his foot. “Shit! You’re right. We were in such a panic that we all just ran outside without even thinking.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s done. But we need to get those doors shut before they gather back in the foyer and leak out onto the lawns. We won’t be safe otherwise. We don’t know how long it will be until help arrives. I’ll have to go back outside.”

  “No way,” said Mike. “You’ve already risked your neck enough times already. Look at you, you’re exhausted.”

  “Then who? Is anybody else willing to volunteer?”

  There was silence amongst the group.

  Annaliese tutted. Their lack of courage didn’t surprise her. People were selfish. Test them and they would always look out for number one. Her ex-husband had taught her that lesson. “I’m going back out in five minutes,” she said. “I just need to catch my breath first.”

  “Then, I’m coming with you,” said Mike.

  She shrugged. “Fine. The more the merrier.”

  Least one of you has some balls.

  “I’ll see if I can find you something to defend yourself with,” said Shawcross, wandering off into the darkness of the reptile house. Annaliese had the feeling that he just wanted to be away from her.

  He probably feels more at home with the snakes.

  Mike took Annaliese to one side. “I’m really sorry to ask, but did you-”

  “Find your wallet? Yes, I have it. Almost died trying to get it, but I got it.” She slid her hand into her jean pocket and hissed as a bolt of agony shot through her knuckles.

  “What is it?” Mike asked.

  Annaliese held her hand out in front of her. Her little finger was bent back at an unnatural angle.

  Mike looked as though he might heave. “Bloody hell. It looks broken.”

  She examined her twisted digit and then shook her head. “No. It’ just dislocated. I must have done it when I fell out the window onto the mattress.”

  “What do we do?”

  She grabbed her little finger with her other hand and took a deep breath. “We don’t do anything,” she said. Then she snapped the finger back into place, yelling out against the worst agony she had ever felt in her life besides childbirth.

  Then the pain was gone, replaced by a cold numbness.

  Mike looked at her, astonished. “That was pretty hardcore,” he said.

  “No point being a vet if I can’t even fix myself. Now, let’s get the doors to Ripley Hall closed so we can finally catch our breaths and sort this whole thing out. Here’s your wallet.”

  Mike took it from her and nodded. His stare was slightly dazed, no doubt due to the horrors he had witnessed. Annaliese knew that the more time passed, the more Mike and the others would start to struggle with the emotional trauma of what had happened to them. She just hoped she could keep herself together long enough to help some of them.

  Mike started to unbutton his bloodstained shirt, exposing a gleaming white vest beneath.

  She put a hand out to stop him. “You sure that’s the best thing? Going out there in just a vest? What if one of those things bite you? Not to mention the fact that you’ll probably freeze your tits off.”

  Mike started fastening the shirt back up again. “Good point. I’m just starting to freak out at the feeling of all this blood on me, you know?”

  “Whose is it?” Annaliese asked. She could see it wasn’t his, but from the pained expression that flashed across his face, she was sorry for asking the question so bluntly. “Sorry,” she added.

  He waved his hand. “No, it’s okay. It wasn’t anyone I was close to, just a co-worker, James Craddock. But he had two sons and a wife, you know? He was a happy guy. Deserved better than to be ripped apart like...” His words trailed off and he seemed to lose himself for a moment, staring off into space.

  Annaliese placed a hand on his shoulder and was surprised by how tense his muscles were. The guy was on edge, even if he hid it well with courage and an amiable personality. “Hey, we’re going to get to bottom of this, okay? You’re doing really great. You’re my hero, in fact.”

  He smiled at her and straightened up. He could have been dashing if not for the circumstances, and the fact that he was covered in blood. “Thanks,” he said, and then let out a deep sigh. He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his messy black hair, and seemed to ready himself for whatever came next. After a few moments, he smiled at Annaliese. “Let’s do this,” he said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Annaliese didn’t get going right away. She and Mike took Shawcross up on his offer of finding them weapons first. The man was at the rear of the building, rooting around the staff access that ran behind the exhibits.

  “Here, take this,” he said, handing Annaliese a long metal pole with a kink at the end. It was a pole used for dealing with the exhibit’s many snakes. Mike found himself a shovel and weighted it up in his hands.

  “So what’s your plan?” Shawcross asked. “You know, eventually your luck is going to run out, taking all these risks?”

  She glared at him. He seemed perfectly happy to let her take all those risks when they benefited him. “If nobody does anything, then we’re up shit
creek with only half a paddle. I don’t want to go out there, but somebody has to. If you’re worried about me so much, why don’t you go out and close the doors?”

  Shawcross gave her a thin-lipped smile. “I’m needed here. Guest welfare is still my responsibility.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Mike. “I think you’re officially off-duty, mate.”

  “I’m never off-duty. Ripley Hall is my building and these are my guests.”

  Annaliese looked at the gathering of shell-shocked survivors. There was less than a dozen of them in total, an even mix of men and women. Their faces were starkly pale in the dim light of the reptile house.

  “Fine,” she said. “Then you carry on playing host while we go and risk our necks.” She turned to Mike. “You ready?”

  He nodded. The two of them headed back over to the building’s exit.

  “Should we try heading out through a different door?” he asked her. “They could still be right outside where we came in.”

  Annaliese thought about it. “To be honest, I don’t think we’re going to be safe coming out of any door. At least we know what to expect by heading out of this one. There’s the one that attacked us right outside and then I know there’s at least one more – a guy with a busted ankle.”

  Mike hefted the shovel up and held it in front of him. “Okay, I’m ready when you are.”

  “Just remember,” said Annaliese. “Don’t let them bite you.”

  “Hey, I stopped getting hickeys at fifteen. Not about to start again now.”

  Annaliese stepped up to the doorway and grasped the handle. She held the steel pole tightly in her right hand, reassured by its balanced weight. Shawcross and the others were stood several meters back, hushed in anticipation.

  “Here goes,” she said, then eased open the door, peering outside carefully. Once she felt safe enough, she opened it wider and stepped through.

  In just the last fifteen minutes, dawn had turned fully into day. The autumn sunshine painted everything with shades of orange and the moist green grass of the park’s numerous embankments seemed to glisten and sparkle. To her right, multi-coloured macaws had awoken in an aviary.

  “It looks all clear,” said Mike, stepping out ahead of her and looking around. “Wonder where he went?”

  “He’ll be around here somewhere. Stay alert. We need to get to the house.”

  Annaliese took cover behind the concrete chameleon statue and checked up ahead. Past the trees of the lawn, Ripley Hall was silent. Its doors remained open and its lights were still on, but all was quiet.

  “Come on,” she said, ushering Mike to follow.

  They kept low and raced towards the lawn, cutting a path through the sycamore trees. The man that had attacked Bradley, and the woman he had killed, were still lying in the grass. Annaliese barely even noticed them now – they were just another part of the landscaping.

  Garden gnomes from Hell.

  Through the open doorway up ahead, Ripley Hall’s foyer was now overly-lit, what with the sun now fully risen and reflecting off the tiles. It made it hard to see anything inside in detail.

  Mike moved up beside her. “What do you see?” he whispered.

  “Nothing. I think it’s safe. I’m going to head up and close the doors.”

  “I’ll watch your back.”

  Annaliese gripped her steel pole tightly and made her way forward. She listened out intently as she took each step, ready for the first sign of danger. As she got closer, the odour of blood wafted over her. The stench of rot and open gut-wounds had taken over the building. She was grateful she didn’t have to go inside.

  She placed a foot onto the front steps of the house and put herself in the open doorway. She could hear the infected milling about in the depths of the building, but the foyer seemed empty.

  They must all be upstairs where I led them.

  Good.

  She reached forward for the door handle. She imagined a spark of electricity as she wrapped her hand around it, but there was none. She had the handle in her grasp and now all she had to do was close the door.

  “Look out,” Mike shouted.

  Annaliese stumbled backwards off the steps as a woman lurched out of the foyer and collapsed on top of her. It was the maid. The one she had tied up with the keyboard at the reception desk. Now the keyboard swung from the woman’s neck, banging against her hip like a weird purse. The cord wrapped around her neck was frayed from where it had snapped free of the desk.

  Annaliese forced herself to stay calm. The maid was no longer erratic and wild; she was slow and clumsy. The cord around her neck had throttled the life out of her and now she had become one of the stumbling dead. Her flesh was grey and mottled, just like the hanging businessman that Shawcross had shown her in the kitchen pantry.

  She shrugged loose of the maid’s uncoordinated grasp and stepped backwards.

  “Get away from her,” Mike urged.

  “I got this.” She gripped her steel pole with both hands. Her injured pinkie finger cried out in pain.

  As the maid stumbled towards her, moaning and grasping at thin air, Annaliese brought the pole up over her shoulder. Then she shoved it forward like a pike. The tip entered over the dead maid’s heart and sent her reeling backwards on her heels. Annaliese put her weight behind the pole and shoved harder. She cringed at the wet, sucking sound it made, but was surprised by how easily the steel passed through flesh – dead flesh.

  The woman didn’t go down. She clawed and grasped at Annaliese, even with the steel pole through her chest. It was as if the eviscerating wound failed to even register.

  Annaliese yanked on the pole and tried to retrieve it, but it was stuck. The blood and leaking organs must have caused an airtight seal. It was clear that the chest wound was not sufficient to put an end to the maid. Now she had no weapon to inflict an additional killing blow. She did have control over the woman, though, via the steel pole jutting out of her chest like a lever.

  As the dead woman struggled and writhed on the end of the pole, unable to get free, Annaliese had an idea. Mike rushed up to help her, but she put a hand up to tell him to stay back. Then she returned both hands to the pole and shoved it upwards sharply. The maid went staggering backwards. Then she shoved the pole downwards, towards the ground.

  The spike hit the mud and broke the surface, delving into the turgid soil beneath. Annaliese bore down on the pole, shoving it deeper and deeper into the earth. The maid fell onto her back, the metal shaft running right through her chest and into the ground. With one last push, Annaliese forced the pole deep enough into the mud to anchor the woman down permanently. The pole still jutted out the maid’s chest by a good two feet, long enough to prevent her from pulling herself free.

  Annaliese stepped away, huffing and puffing. Her palms flared in pain, a layer of skin shorn away by her struggle with the pole. The maid lay pinned to the ground, reaching up at her and snatching at the air. Her moans were distorted by the steel passing through her lungs and came out as a tinny vibrato.

  Mike stepped up to the woman and raised his shovel above his head.

  “Don’t,” said Annaliese. “I’m seen enough blood spilt for one day. Just leave her there. She isn’t going anywhere.”

  Mike looked at Annaliese for a moment, as if he didn’t understand, but then, slowly, he lowered the shovel and shoved it down into the dirt, deep enough that he was able to leave it standing up on its own.

  Annaliese headed back up the steps to Ripley Hall and carefully closed the front doors. The sound of the lock catching was like an audible victory, one that had been quite easily achieved if she was honest. She had expected worse.

  Am I getting used to this?

  The thought worried her; that she might no longer be frightened of monsters, and was now ready to face them in a calm and pragmatic manner. She wondered if it meant she was becoming a monster herself. If she had adapted this quickly in a matter of hours, she dreaded to think what would become of her if the situa
tion continued for an extended length of time. A Nietzsche quote from her college reading days popped into her head.

  Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

  “I don’t see any more of them around,” Mike said. “Not even the one we were looking out for. Where did he go?

  As if to answer his question, a beastly cry erupted from within the zoo. The one thing Annaliese recognised immediately was that the sounds were not human.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What is that?” Mike asked Annaliese as he spun around on the spot.

  “It’s coming from deeper in the zoo,” she said. “Over there.” She pointed.

  “Well, should we go check it out?”

  Annaliese looked back at Ripley Hall. The doors were closed and a majority of the windows were obscured by curtains. With the additional cover of the sycamore trees on the lawn, the infected people in the house should not be able to see outside. If everyone kept their distance, then the infected people in the house should pose no risk. But there were still infected people outside the house, wandering the grounds of the zoo and park. As long as they were around, it still wasn’t safe – they would all be forced to hole up inside the reptile house and would be no better off than they had been in the kitchen.

  With adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Annaliese made a decision. “Let’s go find out what it is. We need to know what we’re up against.”

  Mike seemed to be in a similar state of mind as she was. He nodded grimly, a look of determined resolution etched across his increasingly handsome features.

  She honed in on the direction of the commotion – which was getting louder and more frenzied – and headed towards the far side of the zoo.

  “What do you think it is?” Mike asked. “That sound. It’s like a monster or something.”

  “It’s not a monster,” she said, recognising the noises.

  Mike asked her what she meant, but she ignored him. She picked up speed and headed deeper into the zoo. Once she knew exactly where the noises were coming from, she made a beeline for the source. The various animals in their exhibits were awake, disturbed by the commotion and making sounds of their own. A sty full of pigs squealed as she passed by.