Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel (23 page)

The camera-feed cut back to the studio and the anchor-man
continued reporting.  “
The Prime Minister, as well as the leader of the
opposition, is currently under siege, but he has assured us, through sporadic
communications, that the Government is working hard on a solution.  Armed
forces have been deployed nationwide and all military personnel stationed
abroad have been recalled with immediate effect.  However, with allied
nations also under attack, it remains to be seen whether or not our servicemen
will make it home safely
.”

Shawcross collapsed backwards, but managed to save himself
by putting his hands against the pool table.  He had gone deathly pale and
seemed ready to throw up.

Annaliese rubbed the back of his neck.  “Take deep
breaths.”

“Again, these scenes are real.  They are happening
now.  Most of you will have already encountered this devastating attack on
our nation, which seems to have emanated from the Southern coastline.  We
have seen our loved ones, our neighbours, our teachers, our doctors, and even
our police officers succumb to this deadly sickness that has sprung upon us
overnight.  But, if there are people out there still unaware, particularly
in the North where the virus is still partially contained, then we urge you to
remain indoors.  Construct whatever barricades you can to keep your
property secure and defend yourselves in whatever way you can.  Armed
forces are working urgently to regain control of the situation, but the death
toll is already in the hundreds of thousands and the number of infected,
well…  The number of infected has become countless.  Great Britain, and
perhaps the world, has come under attack by the greatest threat of its history.
 It is what some religiou groups are calling ‘The End of Days’.  We
ask you to pray for one another and to remain strong in the way that the people
of this great nation always have.  Ration your food, defend yourselves,
and wait for help to arrive.  In the meantime
…” the news reporter
stared into the camera with tears brimming in his eyes
.  “God be with
us all.”

The program switched to more scenes of devastation; some
were from other countries.  The Eiffel tower burned as thousands of
writhing bodies moved down the
Champs Elysees.
  German forces
flattened the streets of Munich with their mighty tanks.  Pictures from
the American countryside showed roving bands of militia fighting side by side
with Marines.  The various scenes made one thing clear: the battle was
gradually being lost.  The number of infected people in the video footage
were countless.  Their relentless pursuit of survivors was abundantly
clear. 

Mankind was being exterminated.

By itself.

Charlotte began freaking out.  Clark tried to get a
hold of her, but she pushed him away.  “I need to find a phone.  I
need to call my parents.  They’ll be worrying about me.  What if
they’re in danger?”

“Calm down, sweetie,” Annaliese told her, but the girl
wasn’t listening.  She was in a full-blown panic.

Charlotte ran towards the door they had come in through and
yanked it open.  “I need to get out of here.  I need…  I need-”

The bald and bearded man was on Charlotte immediately,
having been standing the other side of the door when she opened it.
 Before she even had chance to cry out, the man was tearing apart her neck
and opening up her veins.

“It’s Tom,” Shawcross yelled.  “The night watchman.”

Tom threw Charlotte’s limp and bleeding body to the ground
and snarled.  He turned his focus to the others in the room and headed for
Clark first.  The young lad quickly leapt behind the pool table.  Tom
readjusted his focus and stalked after Shawcross instead.

“Get back,” Shawcross shouted as he swung the thick branch
he’d brought from the reptile house.  He struck Tom on his bald head and
sent the rotund man backwards.

But Tom would not be deterred.   Blood dripping
down his chin and staining his greying beard, he snarled at Shawcross and kept
coming.

Annaliese could see that Shawcross’s feeble attacks with the
branch were not working.  She looked around for something better and
grabbed one of the pool cues from the table.  She held it upside down so
that the thick end was furthest away from her.  Then she ran up to Tom and
took a shot.

The pool cue snapped as it fractured the man’s skull with an
audible
crack! 
The blow would have put a normal human in the
hospital, but all it did to Tom was disorientate him.  Annaliese had
expected the pool cue to break and she readjusted her grip on it.
 Wielding it like a makeshift dagger, she thrust the cue forward, ramming
the tip into Tom’s temple.  She cringed as the man’s soft cranium give
way.

This is getting way too easy.

Tom fell to the floor with the broken pool cue jutting out
the side of his head.  Annaliese wiped the blood from the back of her hand
onto her shirt.  It was cold, not warm like fresh human blood should be.

“Charlotte!”  Clark ran across the room and sprawled
down beside his already dead girlfriend.  “Oh, shit, Charlotte. 
Don’t worry, babe, we’ll get help.”

Mike moved up to the lad and pulled him back to his
feet.  “She’s dead.  I’m sorry.”

Clark shook his head.  He seemed to partially accept
it, but took on a blank stare that seemed worryingly close to traumatic
shock.  Annaliese went over and took the lad by his hand and led him over
to the room’s sofa.

“Just take a seat, Clark,” she said to him, “and someone
will fetch you a drink.”  She nodded to Mike, who took the hint and headed
over to the vending machines.

  Shawcross busied himself by dragging Mick’s body
along the carpet and then kicking and rolling him through the door back out
into the corridor.

“Is there likely to be anybody else hiding in this
building?” Annaliese asked him.

Shawcross looked around at her and straightened up. 
“I…don’t know.  I would suppose not.  Tom was the night guard, but as
far as I know he’s the only one that works during the AM.  And Bradley, of
course, when needed.”

Annaliese sighed.  Both now dead.  Is this place
really so safe?

Mike returned with a bottle of water and handed it to Clark,
who took it with trembling hands.  He looked up at Annaliese and then over
at Shawcross.  “This is so messed up.  Charlotte can’t be dead. 
None of this can be real.”

Annaliese rubbed his back.  “We’re all in this
together.  It’s not your fault.” 

“We should be safe now,” said Shawcross.  “Forgetting
about Tom was a lapse in judgement, but there should be no one else. 
We’re safe, I’m sure of it.”

Annaliese nodded and then looked around at what was left of
their group.  “Okay, well in that case, I think it’s about time I finally
got to know everybody.”

“This is Michelle from HR,” said Mike, pointing to a pretty
blonde in a blazer and skirt.  He then indicated to a skinny man in a
tailored short-sleeved shirt.  “And this is Greg from Sales.”

Annaliese nodded to the two of them and both of them nodded
back.  Then a middle-aged man with a greying moustache stood forward and
took the floor.  “My name is Alan, but could I just bring something to the
group’s attention before we get too relaxed?”

Annaliese shrugged.  “Pleased to meet you, Alan. 
What is it you want to say?”

“Well, it’s more of a question, really.  What I want to
ask,” he turned around and pointed to Charlotte’s dead body, “is what we’re
going to do about her?”

“What do you mean?”

Mike’s eyes suddenly went wide.  “He means she’s going
to come back.”

Annaliese realised it was true.  Based on what they had
seen, Charlotte was going to come back. 

And then she’ll try to eat us.

Chapter Twenty-One

“How should we do it?” Mike asked as
he stared down at Charlotte’s body.  Her neck had stopped bleeding and her
flesh was starting to take on a bluish tinge.

“Why do we have to do anything to her?” Clark asked, still
sitting on the sofa.  He was staring into space.

“We have to,” said Mike.  “She’ll get back up as one of
them.  Believe me, we’ve all seen it.  You would have, too, if you’d
been with us last night.”

“I was with Charlotte,” Clark muttered.  “And now she’s
dead.

Annaliese shot Mike a worried glance.  She didn’t like
where Clark’s mental state was heading.

We need everyone functional and sane if we have any
chance of getting through this.

“Let’s just break another pool cue and ram it in her head,”
said Shawcross crassly.  “Seemed to do the trick with Tom.”

“It’s not about doing the
trick
,” said
Annaliese.  “It’s about being humane.”

“There’s nothing humane about any of this,” said Mike. “Maybe
Shawcross is right.  The pool cue was effective on Tom.”

Annaliese shrugged her shoulders.  “Fine.  Should
I do it?”

“I don’t mind,” said Mike.  “Do you want me to?”

Clark leapt up off the sofa.  “Listen to you all. 
You sound like you’re haggling over the last beer in the fridge.  You’re
about to crack somebody’s skull open; and that
somebody
was my
friend.  I should have protected her.”

“None of this is your fault, Clark,” Annaliese told him
again.  “Lots of people are dead and none of us are to blame.  We
didn’t do this.”

Clark stood beside the pool table and picked up the
remaining cue.  He rolled the length of wood in his hands, examining it
intently.

“What are you doing?” Mike asked him.

Clark smashed the cue over the edge of the table, making the
rest of the group flinch.  The thick end went hurtling across the room and
left a dent in the far wall.

“Let me do it,” Clark said.  “I owe her that much.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” said Annaliese.

“No offence,” said Clark.  “But fuck you.  She was
my friend.  You didn’t even know her.”

Annaliese nodded and stood aside.  Her opinion was that
performing such a deed could make Clark’s emotional condition worse, but there
was also a chance it could bring him closure.  You never could tell when
it came to people’s minds.  They fractured in different ways.

Clark knelt down beside Charlotte and placed the jagged cue
against her forehead.

“Turn her head to the side,” Annaliese told him.  “The
temple is softer.  It’ll be…
cleaner.
”

Clark did as she suggested and turned Charlotte’s head
sideways.  The wound on her neck opened up wider and a fine spray of blood
released itself.  Clark didn’t seem to notice.  He raised the cue
high above his head.

Everyone in the room turned away, not wishing to see the grizzly
deed performed so clinically and yet so brutally at the same time. 
Annaliese made herself watch, though.  She didn’t want to ignore the
things that were happening all around her.  She needed to retain her
humanity.  The best way to do that was to witness and absorb it all; not
turn away.  Charlotte seemed like a sweet girl, and now her boyfriend was
about to stab her through the skull.

The cue in Clark’s hands trembled for a second.  

Then he did it.  He brought the spike down hard and
pierced through Charlotte’s skull.  Annaliese was glad the lad didn’t have
to give it a second go.  It would have gotten messy.

She went up to him and placed a hand on his back.  His
whole body trembled as sobs began to take over him.  He was covered in his
girlfriend’s blood.

After a little while, they all decided to leave him alone
with his grief.  The remainder of the group gathered over in the far
corner of the room, over by the television.

“So what’s our next move?” asked Alan, twiddling with his
moustache and looking grim.

Annaliese looked at the older man and shook her head. 
“I have no clue.  Does anybody have a suggestion?”

Faces were blank, shoulders shrugged.

“Then I suggest we just keep our heads down here for a
while.  Once we’ve rested up, maybe things will be a little clearer. 
We can find a phone and keep the TV on.  I’m sure we’ll know more soon.”

To her surprise, even Shawcross was nodding his head and
agreeing with her.  It was clear that everyone was exhausted, and that
none of them had slept for ages.  Right now, all anybody really cared
about was getting off their feet and maybe catching some shuteye.  Sleep
would probably feel impossible at first, but Annaliese knew how easily it would
come once everyone closed their eyes.

Shock is the body’s way of protecting itself from trauma,
and right now what everyone needs is sleep.

Alan cleared his throat.  “I would like to make sure
that this place is
really
safe, before we all settle in for the long
haul.  We should check out the rest of the building.”

“I agree,” said Mike.  “We also need to move Tom and
Charlotte somewhere else.  We can’t have them so close by.”

Annaliese nodded.  “You’re right, it’s a health hazard.

“I’ll organise everybody,” Shawcross said, running a hand
through his slick ginger hair.  “Things will go more smoothly if we split
into groups.”

She shrugged.  “Fair enough.  I’ll help Clark with
Charlotte’s body.  Then we should be able to move Tom as well.  We’ll
place them in the office we came in through.  It’s the least safe room for
us to be in now, with the window being broken, so it makes sense to use it as
storage.”

“You mean a morgue,” said Mike, shaking his head as though
he could not believe it.

“Call it what you will, but it’s something that has to be
done.”

“Just be careful,” said Mike.  “I don’t want to have to
put your body in there.”

Annaliese smiled.  His concern was flattering.  It
had been a while since anybody cared whether she lived or died.

Funny how it took a biological disaster to find a friend.

A buzzing sound from the television caused them all to look
up.  The news reporter from before was back on and this time he looked
even more ashen-faced than before.

“While it has long been suspected, reports from the World
Health Organization have now confirmed that the dead are indeed coming back to
life.  While the initial infection causes high fever and uncontrollable
rage, it is not until the infected are rendered deceased that the true horror
of the situation becomes apparent.  When an infected person dies, against
all the rules of nature, they come back.  The reason some of the infected
are slower and less ambulatory than others is because they are no longer
living.  The only way to prevent an infected person coming back, it seems,
is to inflict massive head trauma.  Damaging the brain is the only
confirmed way to dispatch an infected person permanently. 

The reporter stopped for a few seconds, taking a sip of
water and gulping loudly.  Weariness seemed to hang over the man like a
shroud. 

“As I report these words to you, it may all seem like
some kind of sick joke, but the reports are real.  This is
happening.  If you have loved ones with you, enjoy them while you
can.  If you have a safe place to go, then I suggest you go there. 
This very well might be the end as we know it.  Do whatever you have to do
to survive.” 
The reporter placed a finger to his ear, as if getting a
message from an earpiece
.  “I’m about to be cut off, folks, for saying
things that I shouldn’t have.  It doesn’t really matter, anyway, because
we’re about to go off air with immediate effect.  An emergency message
will be left to play, but there will be nobody here broadcasting.  Reports
have come in that small enclaves of military, police and civilian resistance
are gaining footholds in certain areas north of Sheffield and that rescue might
still be a possibility for some of you, but, for the most part, rescue will not
be forthcoming.  I hope that some of us make it through this.  My
name is Ben Hutchinson and this is-”

The feed went dead, replaced by a placeholder image and a
beeping tone.  The words on the screen simply read: STATE OF
EMERGENCY.  FURTHER NEWS TO FOLLOW.  STAY TUNED.

“Is anybody else getting the impression that this isn’t
going to just blow over?” Mike asked.

Annaliese stared at the television screen and held her
breath.  Then she made a statement that she couldn’t believe was coming
out of her mouth.  “I think this might be the end of the world.”