The Carnage
Book 1 of the Carnage Trilogy
Matthew Birch
Copyright 2018
A note from the Author
While this story takes place within the real world, the place in which its set is a complete work of fiction, built up from the imagination and creativity of my own mind.
Also I want to say thank you to all the friends, family and loved ones who supported me, helped me and were there for me throughout the entirety of my time when planning, writing and rewriting this book. It wouldn’t have been possible without you.
Dedication
To a dear friend of mine who I did not have the pleasure of seeing as of recent times due to events in their life, I nonetheless want to thank this special person for being there since the very beginning, and without your encouragement and motivation, neither I nor this book would be here. Thank you.
The Carnage
An Apocalyptic Thriller
Unbending, Unyielding, Unforgiving
Prologue
The screaming sirens of the police cars wail wildly as they thunder their way through the silence of the night. Not only does it stir the surrounding nature abruptly from its peace, but also me from my slumber. I open my eyes, and I am encased in darkness. Wiping the sweat from my forehead and yawning loudly, I try my best to not give in to the need of sleep.
Taking my blue bed covers that are littered with little cartoonish pictures of lion cubs, I throw them off me. The cold hits me all at once, and a part of me wants to escape back to the warmth and comfort of my duvet.
Rubbing my sleepy eyes and allowing one last fatal yawn that rattles my small body, I toss my skinny legs over the side of my single bed. With a push, I heave myself off the mattress and onto the comfy feeling of the fur carpet flooring below. My tired gaze makes it all the more difficult to see through the dark haziness of the room. I can just about make out the stuffed toys, stickers, more toys, an Xbox One and yet again, more toys to keep my young mind busy!
I arch my back and twist my neck to look at the window. I can't see them, but I can hear them. More police sirens race past the outside of my house, so of course, I feel obliged to shuffle my way towards the window and pull the fluffy red curtains apart so I can look at the outside world. I scan the driveway, front porch, road and the forest beyond that. The police cars are long gone in their haste to make it to the bustling, bright capital city.
Walking towards my partly open door, I stand still for a second to think. Should I? I lift my hand up to the doorknob. No, I shouldn't. I lower my hand. But, what's the harm? I pull the door open and I step out into the hallway which is ripe with family pictures, decorations and prized ornaments. The hallway is colder than my already cold room, giving me a chill that gives me goosebumps all over.
I feel myself jump as another police car speeds past-
It's faster, louder, but it's moving away from the city. That's weird. Eh, doesn't matter. Wiping my now adapting eyes, I move through the darkness until I get to my mother's door. Reaching up, I place a hand on the door handle and slowly open the door until I can peer inside.
"Mummy?" I whisper through a low and worried tone. I make sure to speak quietly as to not disturb her if she is sleeping, which she is. In the mirror by the wardrobe on the other side of the room, I can see my reflection! I'm so small. I smile as I look at myself. I flick my short, cute little bowl cut that dad gave me the other week when he didn't have the time to take me to the barbers. With a grin, I stare into my hazel eyes. My own self gazing is interrupted when my mother, who is breathing heavily, tosses and turns in her restless sleep. Covered in sweat, she wears a pained look on her face. Is she clutching her upper right arm tightly? Mummy looks really ill...
I should let her sleep. So, instead, I venture into my sister's room where she sleeps soundly; undisturbed by the loud cars luckily for her. As much as I want to wake her, I'll let her sleep as well.
Something downstairs grabs my attention, and I find I am drawn towards it.
There's what sounds like a faint explosion from downstairs. I know it's from the TV, which most likely means that Dad is watching his favourite war movies again. Dad works hours without end downstairs because of his big project he never talks about. He doesn't like being pestered but I am sure it will be okay! All I want is some toast. I smile, imagining a glass of warm milk with a piece of overly buttered toast...
I need some toast and warm milk now.
My hands run smoothly down the cream coloured bannister, the TV getting louder as I approach the bottom of the stairs. I step into the living room where the TV is on, but dad is nowhere to be found. His work is in a pile on the coffee table. Two more empty cups of coffee alongside the still full one. I personally think coffee's disgusting. It has nothing on the glass of milk I'm going to be getting soon!
Hmm? What's going on? There's a lovely lady on the TV in a grey, tight dress that covers her body. She holds a microphone in her hand. I think she's telling the news. I'm still learning - so, if I am right, it says the word 'live' in the corner of the screen. So, this news is live. Awesome!
Oh...
My goosebumps worsen. The chill causing the small hairs on my body to stand in fright becomes a scarily real stabbing sensation. I feel myself begin to shake. I can't control it.
W-what is happening?
Police helping, soldiers fighting, people running-
Buildings broken, some smashed to bits, some in flames, and some have been wiped off the face of the planet-
Ambulance after ambulance piles up with doctors and paramedics rushing from one place to the next. Strange mad people follow whoever is closest. Whether they are running, walking or practically leaping at them, these mad people are pale, red-eyed and covered with horrible looking red veins and gooey pulsating sacks. I can even hear their barely audible groans of agony. I think they are in pain and need help...
A speeding car appears and sidetracks off the road to avoid an oncoming fire engine, both crashing somewhere off screen. A loud explosion occurs seconds later which causes the lady to duck down and cover her ash-ridden face; her makeup long gone after having been melted from the intense heat. Running a hand through her frizzy hair, she holds the microphone to her pasty, red lips and opens her mouth to speak-
"GET OUT OF HERE!" A soldier screams while tugging the lady forward. She's pulled off the screen and I can hear them arguing through the microphone. Seconds later, more soldiers pour in as the area is quickly evacuated, a bigger mass of mad people moving faster now from all sides. Gunshots ringing into the camera and making the room sound like a war zone. The mad people react strangely, some drop down dead while others keeping moving like it's nothing.
So, is this the movie dads watching?
It's scary because it feels so real. I reach over for the remote so I can click the mute button. Oh, that's strange? I can still hear the TV. I tap the mute button again, and this time it gets louder. Wait, hold on.
I click mute.
I can hear the city from here all through the window? Looking out the window, I can see the flames that arise from the capital...
Right now, these same soldiers scream in terror as they are torn apart by the strongest mad people who pounce on them without hesitation-
Barely two seconds later and the cameraman drops his camera. The lady from before screams and then-
Then-
I flinch and look away. The last thing I saw is the poor lady being dragged into the mass of mad people, she was scratching at the floor and half
her face had been torn open-
"IT'S GONNA BLOW!"
The connection is cut; the last thing on the TV was the burning gas station in the background. Then, I can not only hear, but I can feel the devastating explosion from the city...
Callum
No, no, no, no, no!
NO!
I can't-
What-
Oh, my god-
Huffing and puffing like I had just run a marathon (Damn right it felt like it) I lean against my old tattered desk in my garage. I need to CALM DOWN. Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep fucking breaths-
I can't catch my breath. I can't breathe. Holding a hand over my hammering heart, I feel my eyes pop from their sockets as I remember everything I had just seen. I will never be able to wipe that scene from my mind. What was that? What is happening?!
It's like a horror movie; don't follow the blood trail. You should NEVER follow the blood trail and for some stupid reason, I decided to do exactly that! Past the broken front door, up the stairs and into the dark room where the single father bore his black, rotten teeth into his daughter's intestines!
That's not human. What was that? I don't understand. I don't care. No, I need to see my wife. I need to see my children.
I become a statue, I hold my breath, and the only thing I can hear is my rapid heartbeats. White noise from the TV in the living room echoes throughout the house, into the dining room and finally, the garage where I am. Having a fully connected house is paying off because running around to the front door would be the death of me!
Rushing through the house, I find my youngest son, nine years old, watching the blank TV. The last I saw was a live news report - what the hell has happened since then? The last thing I remember was a rumbling through the ground and the distant boom from the city. Oh god, what is happening right now? Please, I need answers!
Cuddling a pillow tightly, my fearful son looks at me, eyes wide; no doubt from whatever he had seen on the TV. "What's happening Dad?" he says meekly. Little Tommy, my second child shivers from the cold. A confused look is plastered across his little innocent face.
"I don't know..." I wish I had the answers, Tom, I really do. Taking a seat next to him, I wrap him up in my arms and take a moment to embrace him in case this is my last time. I have to enjoy every last moment-
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
"Upstairs, now. Get your mum and sister-" I say immediately. I let go of Tom so he can carry out my order. Adrenaline hits me hard as I stand up and ever so slowly approach the door. I don't know what to expect on the other side.
"Dad-" Tom's frightened voice calls out to me. Looking over my shoulder, I say no words, instead only gesturing for my son to go with the point of my index finger. He nods shyly and leaves without another word.
Now that he has followed my directions, I focus on the door now...
"Bro, are you in there?" My brother Joe... Only my brother... Okay, deep breath, exhale, deep breath and exhale. Opening the door, I come face to face with Joey, my younger brother. He wears a red shirt saying blue bull gives you wings, blue jeans and a cap on his messy blond hair.
"I'm here" I reply frustratingly to his question. He sees I'm uneasy, but says nothing about it because he looks just as jumpy as I do. Stepping aside, I grant him passage into my home. Thank god it was only him.
"We need to get out of here right now" Joey states sternly. I am so used to him being so jokey and chirpy but his tone holds so much seriousness it could kill. I make no response, I only close the door and reach into the bowl of keys on a nearby cupboard for the key to lock the door. "Bro?" Hoping to get my attention, Joey calls out. I give no response as I lock the door and move onto the windows.
"We can't stay here man, have you seen the news?" Joey says desperately while prancing around the living room, waving his hands around for dramatic effect.
"Yeah, who hasn't?" I deadpan him. Numbness is growing inside me. All I want is to keep my family safe. Joey sighs and takes a seat on the sofa while watching the white noise filled TV. "Apparently its some sort of parasite, or some sort of bio thingy that came from one of those special facilities" he starts to explain what he knows. Personally, I don't care. I want my family to be safe. Their safety is my priority.
Then, the TV springs back to life as an emergency broadcast message comes on. There is a low humming, a white screen, and red words-
'INCOMING MESSAGE, STANDBY'
I and Joey share a confused look before turning back to the TV. It switches, white to fuzziness, followed by the signal slowly reconnecting and finally, we have our salvation, another live broadcast. Although, it's no news reporter as it's a man in a black suit. He has a nasty gash on the side of his head. His black shades are crooked and cracked. His black suit, once fashionable is now a ripped mess. He limps forward, slamming his hands down on the desk in front of him. Static fills the screen as the connection begins to break. "THIS IS A CODE RED EMERGENCY, EVERYONE IS TO BE EVACU-" The TV screen blanks us. There is no white noise this time, just a black screen with the words.
'EVACUATION IN PROGRESS. STAY IN YOUR HOMES AND WAIT FOR AID. HELP IS COMING'
"Fuck that, we're getting out of here" I hear my brother exasperate while jumping up from the sofa. "Bro?" He persists, and when he sees me continue onto the next window, he hops over the coffee table and right in front of me. "We are not staying here," he insists, determined to get me out of my own home.
"No, we are better off here-" I barely begin my fight.
"Callum, please fucking listen to me for five seconds. I came here from the city. The military got destroyed in under half an hour. We need to get the fuck out of here now!"
No, I haven't got time for this. Pushing Joey out of my way, I walk into the dining room and rush to the garage. Grasping all the courage I have, I step into the empty space where the large double doors are still wide open. I can't believe I forgot. Pressing the small red button in the corner of the room, the garage doors slowly close and shroud the open space in darkness. Turning the light on, the garage is illuminated once more.
"Hey bro, isn't that your neighbour?" I hear Joey call from the dining room. I renter my home and I see him peering out the blinds at what must be my crazy neighbour praying on whoever he can get his hands on. Joey then pauses, and I can actually hear him gulp. "Isn't that his daughter too?" Joey adds on eerily casually. Someone’s pulling a brave face on over how scared shitless they are. Don't worry Joey, I'm scared too. I say nothing because I am too petrified to make any action or useful thought right now.
"You still got that gun?" Joey mentions to me, giving me the hint to go and get it and at this point, I completely agree. I have no time to let fear get to me. If the city has truly been overrun, then this is our chance to make our escape, right? Running to my desk in the garage and opening the first drawer, I see the weapon in all its glory. Shiny, the recently polished gun lays there with a small ammo pack next to it. Picking up the handgun, with slow but shaky hands, I enter ten bullets.
"Uncle Joey?" A young, feminine voice gasps. My eldest child Lola, my daughter, enters the fray. Joining them, I get into the dining room just in time to see Joey release Lola from his welcoming hug. He gives her a brief, worried smile before looking at me. His eyes trail my arm before resting on the weapon in my grip. "Hi" I feel pathetic as I can't even look my own daughter in the eye. She's scared and in shock, at me...
"You never said you had a gun dad..." I put the handgun in Joey's hand and step in front of her, arms open. "I have a licence, don't worry," I say as she burrows her face into my chest. A lone tear makes its way out her eye and down her lovely face. "B-but you never told us" she stutters. I sigh; I really have nothing to say about this. I had to learn, it was for the safety of this family.
"If I told you, you might worry," I say to her in a soft tone of voice. "But why?" she asks plainly while wiping her face. Hugging her closer, I whisper in her ear. "So, that if I ever had to, I could protect my family"
The Carnage Trilogy (Book 1): The Carnage [Unbending, Unyielding, Unforgiving] Page 1