Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel (19 page)

Annaliese was surrounded on all
sides.  Infected people came at her from behind the reception desk, from
inside the function suite’s entrance, and from atop the staircase.  The
only place left to run was back towards the kitchen, but she knew she wouldn’t
make it.  They had the jump on her.

A stocky man in a navy blue jumper came at Annaliese from
her left.  He snarled and growled like a pit-bull.  He collided with
her so hard that she went hurtling back into the dining room.  Her foot
struck something and suddenly she found herself off-balance.  She looked
down to see that the body with the skeletal legs had managed to crawl across
the stone floor and reach her.  She’d stumbled right into its grasp. 
The decimated man was now clawing at her leg, trying to bite down on her
ankle.  If not for her thick wellington boots, he might have succeeded.

The stocky man in the blue jumper came at her again. 
She managed to kick her leg free from her attacker on the floor and hop aside
just in time.  The stocky man went crashing into the dining room table and
tumbled to the floor.

More were coming. 

Annaliese looked up to see the horde of infected rushing
into the room.  Seeking the nearest barrier to protect herself, she leapt
up onto the mahogany dining table and clambered down its length.  She was
counting on the erratic, uncoordinated movements of her pursuers to buy her
some time.  Sure enough, as they reached the table themselves, they
struggled to gain purchase and lift themselves up onto its polished surface to
come after her.

Annaliese dodged candelabras and centrepieces as she made
her way down the table.  She peered back over her shoulder to see that
only a couple of infected people had managed to clamber up onto the table after
her – they slid and skittered about as they tried to keep their balance – but
most of the remaining mob pursued her from the ground.  They reached up at
her as they kept pace alongside her.

Pure survival instinct urged her onwards, but it soon became
apparent that she was running out of table, like a plane nearing the end of a
runway.  She had to think fast.

I have to clear a way through to the reception area.

She put on the brakes, skidding on her heels and turning
around.  An infected girl sprinted towards her from further down the
table.  Annaliese ran towards her, meeting the charge head on.  They
ran at each other like fighting bulls.

Oh God, oh God.  What the hell am I doing?

At the last moment, she ducked down and skidded sideways on
her knees.  The highly-polished surface of the table allowed her to slide
easily.  She collided with the girl charging towards her and knocked her
aside like a skittle.  The woman tumbled off the table and into the baying
mob that surrounded them. 

Annaliese’s rubber wellington’s sapped the last of her
momentum and brought her to a stop.  She hopped back up to her feet and
continued running, heading back the way she had originally come from, back
towards the foyer.  There was one more infected person on the table: a
large man with an ample gut.  She threw herself at his large belly,
tucking in her shoulder and turning herself into a battering ram.

The man rocked and staggered, lost his footing and slipped
off the table, leaving her free to sprint down what was left of the mahogany
runway.  Within seconds she had reached the end and leapt off into the
air.  As she landed, she looked over at the mob to see that they had
changed direction and were coming right after her again. 

But this time she had options. 

Looking left and right, Annaliese realised she now had a
chance to make it back to the safety of the kitchen.  But she also
realised that, with the gang of infected now behind her and leaving the foyer
clear, she had the opportunity she needed to create a distraction.

The safety of the kitchen called to her, but somehow she
found her feet travelling towards the reception foyer.  Once she’d decided
on her destination, she picked up speed.  The screeching mob of murderers
at her back pushed her onwards at a level of effort she didn’t know she had.

She fled into the foyer and saw that the only infected
person present was the woman she’d tied up earlier with the keyboard
cord.  Annaliese wasted no time in rushing around her for the staircase,
hoping that there would be no dangers lying ahead of her on the second
floor.  She didn’t need to look back to know that the entire mob was
chasing after her.  She could hear their screams and frantic footfalls
across the tiles.

Her heart revved up and threatened to burst through her
chest.  Her feet throbbed as they struck the cold stone steps.  But
she couldn’t afford to stop, because the death that pursued her was relentless.

She reached the top of the staircase and turned right. 
Her stomach threatened to purge itself as her flight reflexes kicked in and
sought ways to make her body lighter and faster.  Her inner cavewoman took
over and sent her racing across the landing at a speed that would leave her
bedridden with muscle soreness tomorrow.  But the pain would be worth it
if it meant getting out of this situation alive.

Her destination was Room 7 and she hurtled past the lower
numbers on either side of her: 1…2…3…4. 

The mob was still behind her, crashing into the walls of the
hallway like drunken pinballs, smashing into potted plants and side tables.

Keep running.  Don’t stop.  Ignore the
pain. 

Just as she passed room 5, someone jumped out at her. 
Her instincts almost made her stop, but her brain took control and reminded her
that stopping would mean death. 

The two people in front of her were both young and
attractive.  They had slipped out of room 6 and were clearly not infected. 
They stared at Annaliese with wide, terrified eyes as they quickly realised
that she was in no position to help them.  If they had been hoping for
rescue, she was going to have to disappoint them.

The youngsters turned back around to re-enter their room,
but the door had already closed behind them, locking them out in the
hallway.  The panic on their face was all-consuming.

“Run,” Annaliese shouted, pulling the Room 7 key card from
her jean pocket.

The youngsters spun on their heels and hurried after her. 
The infected were right behind them.

Annaliese threw herself against the door to Room 7 and
immediately slid the card into the magnetic reader.  As she did so, the
plastic card bent and the reader flashed red.  An irritated buzz sounded.

“Shit! Shit! Come on.”

She looked left and saw two dozen monsters hammering down
the corridor towards her, a tidal wave of death bearing down.  The two
youngsters beside her sobbed, waiting for either death or salvation.

Annaliese removed the key card from the slot and reinserted
it again.  Her hands were shaking.

The card reader flashed red and buzzed again.

Please God.  Just open this door.

She removed the key card again, knowing there would only be
time left for one more attempt. 

She took a deep breath.  

Slid the card into the slot carefully.

The reader flashed green.

The door handle clicked.

The infected pounced.

Annaliese pushed down the handle and collapsed through the
door.  The two youngsters fell in after her.  She managed to kick out
and close the door with her foot once they were all clear of it.  Less
than a second later, the wood began to rattle on its hinges as dozens of
infected maniacs crashed against the other side.

“W-what the hell are you doing up here?” Annaliese asked the
two young strangers, between heaving breaths.

The male of the pair stood up.  He was shaking visibly
and his smart black shirt was crumpled and sweat-stained.  “We’ve been up
here for hours,” he said.  “We snuck away from the party last night to –
well, you know – and then we heard everything going crazy downstairs.  We
stepped out of the room and there were people being ripped apart and
killed.  People I’ve worked with for months had gone insane and were
biting each other, tearing each other to bits.  Me and Charlotte locked
ourselves inside my room and stayed there.”

The girl stood up and joined him.  Her blonde hair was
a tangled mess and her cherry lipstick and black mascara were smudged. 
“We thought help was coming when we heard someone coming down the hall. 
When we looked out and saw you there we were sure of it, but then we realised
you were being chased.  What is going on?”

Annaliese climbed back to her feet and checked the room’s
door.  It was much weaker than the ones downstairs in the main
house.  It wouldn’t hold forever.  Even now it bulged and rattled
with every blow against its outer side.  She put a finger to her lips to
keep the young couple quiet.  Then she whispered to them.  “If we
keep quiet, they should go away.  They seem to operate on sight and
sound.”

“They?
” asked Charlotte.  “Who are
they?”

“I don’t exactly know.  Something bad has happened to a
lot of people.  Pretty much your entire company came down with some kind
of sickness last night.  It’s infected them with some kind of bloodlust.”

“Paris Hilton’s balls,” said the lad.  “That’s crazy.”

“Crazy is a pretty good word for it,” she said, “but this is
no joke.  People are dead.  Things are really screwed up.”

“So what do we do?” asked the girl.  She turned to the
lad and grabbed his wrist.  “Clark, I’m scared.”

He hugged her close.  “I know, baby.  Everything
is going to be okay, I promise.”

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Casanova
.

“We need to get outside,” she said.  “There are people
downstairs – uninfected people – that are relying on me.  I came up here
to lead the sick people away.  Now that I have, we need to get outside and
join back up with the group and get somewhere safe.”

“Okay,” said Clark.  “We’re ready to do whatever you
need.”

Annaliese hurried across the room, dodging around the bed
and heading towards the window.  Dawn sunlight flooded in and painted a
golden rectangle against the room’s olive carpet.  Birds chirped outside
as if all was ordinary.  The ground outside, beneath the window, was
grassy and probably soft, but the drop was still a good twelve feet or
more.    

“Strip the bed,” she said.

Charlotte and Clark looked at her confused but did as they
were told.  They got to work quickly, throwing aside the pillows and duvet
from the room’s double bed.  In the meantime, Annaliese examined the
room’s window.  She located the catch and flicked it free, releasing the
window from its frame.  It was old fashioned leaded glass that opened
outwards to one side.  It wasn’t the widest gap, but should be big enough
for her purposes.

If it’s not, then we’re in a lot of trouble.

When Annaliese turned back around, she saw that the young
lovers had finished stripping the bed for her and were now standing by
anxiously.  Each of them stole furtive glances at the door as it continued
to shake on its hinges.

“Concentrate,” Annaliese told them, snapping her fingers
several times.  “We’ll be out of here before they get inside.  Now,
bring me the mattress.”

Fortunately, the mattress had handles and wasn’t too
heavy.  Charlie and Clark slid it over to the window and propped it up
against the frame.

“Right,” Annaliese said.  “It will be a squeeze, but I
think we can get this through the window.  We can use it as a crash
mat.  Let’s get it up through the gap.”

“Okay dokey,” said Clark in a voice that sounded nervous.
 

Together the three of them worked the mattress up onto the
window ledge and began shoving it through the opening.  The mattress was
too wide to fit perfectly but as they pushed, squeezed, and folded, it began to
go through a little bit at a time.

Crack!

Behind them there was the sound of splintering wood.

Crack!

“Oh, no,” cried Charlotte.  “They’re going to get in.”

“Just keep pushing,” said Annaliese.  “Focus on what
we’re doing, not on them.”

They shoved as hard as they could, but the mattress seemed
to be getting heavier.  Annaliese knew it was just her muscles getting
tired.  Sweat began to bead on her forehead as she shoved at what was
beginning to feel like an immovable object.

The door continued to splinter and rattle on its loosening
hinges.

Crack!

Annaliese shoved harder, gritting her teeth.

Suddenly there was movement and, all at once, the mattress
seemed to take on a life of its own, slipping through the window frame and
tumbling over the ledge.  It almost dragged Annaliese right out after it
as it plummeted to the ground below.

“Right,” she shouted.  “Charlotte, you go first. 
Quickly!”

Charlotte stared out the window and then looked back at
Annaliese.  She shook her head.  “I can’t just jump out of the
window.”

“It’s either that or stay here and get ripped apart.”

“You go,” she said, pointing at Clark.

Clark shrugged.  “Fine.”  He put a foot on the
windowsill and then hopped up into the window frame.  He steeled himself
for a moment, and then took a step forward.  Without a sound he
disappeared from view, sinking down below the window ledge.  Annaliese
glanced out to see that the lad had landed face down on the mattress.  He
seemed a little disorientated at first, but was soon on his feet again and
waving at them to say he was okay.

“Now you,” said Annaliese to Charlotte.

Crack!

Charlotte looked like a rabbit caught in the
headlights.  She looked around at the room’s door and started
hyperventilating.  There was a jagged hole at the top of the door where a
probing arm hung through, groping and clawing at the air with its bloody
fingernails and trying to get inside.  There was only moments left before
the door would give way completely.