Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel Page 8

  “You okay?” Eve asked him. “Your face still looks pretty bad.”

  “Just a little sore.” He prodding at the slick wound on his cheek. “But I’ll live.”

  Mark limped off the bus behind Nick, his cast sinking into the mud as he landed awkwardly. “Hey,” he said. “Do we have any water or snack food? I’m starting to feel lightheaded, man.”

  “Me too,” added one of the old ladies.

  “We’ll just have to make do for now,” said Dave, taking on an air of authority that he probably felt was rightfully his as driver of the bus. “We can look to see if there are any shops around here later, once we’ve all had a rest.”

  “Bad idea,” said Pauline. “We’re safer to just stay put.”

  Mark hopped on his one good leg over to the side of the bus and leant up against a wheel arch. “We’ll need to eat something eventually, lady. So how long do we plan on staying here?”

  “I don’t know,” said Dave.

  “Well, don’t you think we should have a plan?” asked Pauline.

  Dave huffed. “If you have one, then I’m all ears. Until then, just keep quiet.”

  “Look,” said Nick. “For now, let’s just enjoy doing nothing. We don’t know enough to make any sort of plan, which is why we just need to take things one moment at a time. Let’s just be glad that we’re off the road.”

  Everyone seemed to grumble in agreement, before breaking off into their own little patches of space. The supermarket manager, Kathryn, went and sat on a nearby picnic table and began shaping her long red fingernails with a file from her handbag. The two elderly women sat on another bench just a few feet away. Eve stood around aimlessly next to Dave, who had decided to check the oil level of the bus. Nick thought it was pointless seeing as they were out of petrol anyway. Jake stayed on the bus, still feeling unwell. Carl chatted to Cassie nearby, and Mark remained leaning against the bus, taking the weight off his cast.

  Nick chose to approach Cassie and Carl. He hadn’t spoken to them much yet and thought it was wise to know everybody he was with. “You folks okay?” he asked them both.

  Carl laughed. “As well as can be expected. Can’t say I’m a big fan of sticking here indefinitely, though. We’ve all got families to get home to.”

  “I know,” Nick agreed, but deep down he knew that it was no longer true for him. “Ideally we’ll be able to find some help soon, but for now we just need to be safe. We all saw what’s happening to people.”

  “It’s like they’ve all gone crazy,” Cassie said meekly. She seemed like a shy girl.

  Nick nodded. “I think it’s a virus or something. My son was feeling ill last night and then this morning…” He didn’t need or want to finish the sentence. Everyone had been through their own personal torments and that meant that they understood each other’s losses without having to hear them explained. It was almost like being part of a club.

  “I don’t know if it’s something that can be cured,” Nick said. “Right now, our best bet is to just stick together.”

  “Safety in numbers, huh?” said Carl.

  “I’m glad you people found me,” Cassie said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t. I watched my best friend get ripped to shreds by her own father – gutted like an animal. Then she got up and came after me.”

  Nick scratched his chin. “She got up and came after you?”

  Cassie nodded. “Like five minutes after her dad attacked her. We managed to hole up in the bathroom, but Michelle was hurt bad. I mean real bad. Her neck and stomach were gushing and the floor tiles were covered in blood. Then she just stopped breathing and I knew she was dead. But two minutes later she was back on her feet again, coming after me just like her dad did. Only she was different than him, she was-”

  “Slower,” said Nick, remembering how Mr Curtis had first been fast and agile until his throat got cut on the fish tanks, and then afterwards had moved very slow and drunkenly.

  “People don’t come back from the dead,” Carl scoffed, wiping his hands on his jeans. “It’s crazy.”

  Nick shrugged. “I think crazy got invited to the party today. Whatever virus is turning people insane is doing something else to them when they get badly injured. It still makes them want to kill us, but they get clumsy and slow.”

  “Like walking corpses?” Carl scoffed, still unwilling to grasp such a concept.

  “Maybe it’s something in their blood,” Cassie suggested. “Maybe when they get injured and lose enough blood, the virus leaks out and makes them weaker.” She shook her head and sighed. “Or maybe they really are just dead and this is the end of the world.”

  “You’ve been watching too many horror films,” Carl said. “We should just stay calm and wait for this whole thing to blow over. I guarantee this time next week we will all be back at home, watching the news about whatever this is. And it won’t be that the dead are coming back to life to eat the living.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Nick, moving away. “I really do.”

  He headed over towards Mark and nodded at the man as he neared him at the side of the bus.

  “You doing okay, pal?” the man asked Nick.

  “As well as can be expected. How’s the leg?”

  “Mostly healed. Hurt it few weeks ago at me old man’s garage. Me own stupid fault, ya know? Tripped down one of them pits. Isn’t hurting too much now, though. Just make me a clumsy devil, ya know?”

  Nick laughed. “I wouldn’t want to have to make a getaway with that thing.”

  “For sure. I’m just blessed Dave picked me up. A right calamity we is in right now, ya know?”

  “Putting it mildly.”

  “Well, if we all stick together, we will get through this, I is certain.”

  Nick patted the man on the shoulder. “I think so, too, Mark. It’s good to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Think I’ll go back on the bus now. Take the weight off me leg. See how the lad is doing.”

  Nick nodded as the towering Jamaican hobbled off. “I’ll let you know if anything transpires,” he shouted after him.

  “You part of the morale squad or something?” said Eve, standing nearby. She had a frown on her face. “Who made it your job to check up on everybody?”

  Nick turned around to face her. The sour look on her face, mixed with smudged makeup, gave her the look of a sad clown. “What’s the problem?” he said. “I’m just trying to keep myself busy.”

  She shrugged. “No problem. Just wonder why you bother, that’s all. We’re all fucked, but you keep going around like everything is going to be fine. We’ve got a bus with no petrol, a guy with a broken leg, and a pair of geriatric bingo warriors.”

  Nick huffed at her. “Well, being negative isn’t going to do anybody any favours, is it? Should I have just left you in that closet?”

  “Yeah, probably. It was safer than standing in the middle of a field, or letting that crazy little girl attack us.”

  “No one exactly let her do it, Eve. And the girl was sick, not crazy.”

  Eve flapped her arms. “Are you kidding me? The people we’ve seen don’t just need an aspirin. They’re totally screwed. They’re monsters.”

  “My son is not a monster. My wife is not a monster. You’re as bad as Cassie.”

  “I know,” she said. “I was listening to what she was saying and she’s right. Soon as you put one of those crazies down, they get right back up and stumble after you all over again – only this time they’re dead.”

  “Sorry, I have trouble believing that – even with all that I’ve seen. Dead people don’t walk around. There must be some other explanation that makes sense.”

  Eve flapped her arms. “Viruses don’t usually turn people into bloodthirsty psychopaths, either, but hey, you know what, it happened anyway. Someone came and turned the fucked-up factor all the way up to eleven.”

  Nick pointed his finger. “Just calm down, Eve. You’re getting worked up.”

  “Get your goddamn fi
nger out of my face. Who made you so important that you think you can manage everyone?”

  “Eve! I’m just trying to help. What’s gotten into you?”

  “I just don’t want to be here with you people. I don’t feel safe.”

  A scream from the bus cut the conversation short. Nick looked around to witness one of the bus’s side windows cracking. It looked like someone’s head had been pushed through it and then pulled back inside.

  Eve looked up. “What the hell?”

  Nick sprinted over to the bus doors and jumped up the steps. When he looked down the aisle, he was confused by what he saw.

  The teenager, Jake, had shoved Mark up against the side of the bus, forcing the man’s head back against the broken window as he tried to bite a chunk out of his face. Mark tried to resist, but his bulbous cast was wedged beneath the seats.

  Nick fell forward as Dave ran into the back of him. When he, too, saw what was happening he swore loudly. “Shite! Jake is one of them.”

  Nick shook his head. “How? What happened?” Then it occurred to him. “Jake’s hand! The little girl bit him. She infected him.”

  “Then it must be a virus,” Dave said. “We have to get away from the kid before we catch it, too.”

  “We can’t just leave Mark. He needs our help.”

  The Jamaican mechanic’s screams were suddenly cut short as Jake’s teeth sank deep into the man’s windpipe. Nick watched in horror as veins and cartilage were torn away like wet spaghetti.

  Dave grabbed a hold of Nick’s woollen coat. “We’re already too late. Come on!”

  He hated to run, to just abandon Mark as Jake ripped his face and neck into bloody shreds, but he had to face it that Dave was right. It was too late.

  We have to get the hell away from Jake.

  Dave was already off the bus. He shouted at Nick to hurry up.

  But Nick was frozen.

  Jake turned his head and spotted him still standing there at the front of the bus. He hissed with bloodstained teeth.

  Nick finally managed to get himself moving. He spun around and leapt off the bus as quickly as his feet would carry him. Dave punched a big red button beside the bus’s door and it clamped shut with a hiss. A second later Jake crashed up against the glass, glaring at them with swollen, bloodshot eyes. Gory chunks of flesh hung from his teeth and he spat and snarled.

  And he let out a screech.

  Everybody outside the bus gathered together. Dave motioned for them all to get moving. “Everybody run!” he shouted. “Jake is infected. We have to get away from him or he’ll pass the disease on to us.”

  There was a brief smattering of anxious mumblings, but then everybody took off like it was the start of a race. Nick held up at the back, trying to keep everybody moving in the same direction. The two old ladies were clearly the slowest and needed help to make it across the uneven and muddy terrain.

  He glanced back behind him to see the bus shrinking away into the distance as the group put distance between themselves and it.

  Then he saw Jake emerging from the front of the bus, climbing through the hole where the windscreen used to be.

  “Shit!” Nick started pushing the two old ladies to move faster. “Come on, come on,” he shouted. “Move!”

  Behind them, Jake let out another piercing scream. The fleeing passengers picked up speed, finding energy reserves that only the fear of death could liberate from a person’s muscles. Eve and Cassie were at the front of the pack now, heading for the treeline at the edge of the wide picnic area. Carl and Dave were right behind them, their rotund figures betraying their respectable sprinting abilities. Then was Pauline and Kathryn, barefoot after taking off their heels and keeping up a decent pace. Finally, at the back, the two old ladies ran their hardest. Nick was close behind them, urging them to go faster.

  Nick glanced back. It wasn’t good.

  Jake would be on them long before they all made it to the treeline. Even if they did all make it, they wouldn’t be safe. Jake would just follow them into the woods.

  Game over, man. What the hell do we do now?

  Suddenly, one of the old ladies stopped dead. She doubled over, clutching at her chest. Her friend stopped, too, putting an arm around her. “Ethel! Ethel,” she shouted. “We have to keep moving.”

  Nick slid to a stop beside them both. “Come on,” he urged. “He’ll be on us any minute. We have to keep moving.”

  Ethel fell to her knees, wheezing. “M-my heart. I can’t. I need to stop.”

  “No,” said Margaret. “I won’t leave you here.”

  Nick grabbed Margaret’s brittle forearm and tried to pull her away. “Come on, we have to go, or else we’re all dead.”

  “Then you go,” Margaret urged, pulling back her arm, surprisingly strong. “But I’m not leaving Ethel to face that monster alone.”

  Jake was getting closer; would be on them any second.

  Ethel rose up on one knee. She grabbed Margaret’s hand, squeezed it tight. “I’m not letting you get hurt because of me. If you don’t get moving right now, Margaret Skinner, I will come back to haunt you. I swear I will.”

  Margaret looked ready to burst into tears. Nick stared down the field. Jake was only metres away now, lolloping across the grass like a deranged ape.

  Ethel fell back down onto the floor, rolling onto her side and clutching at her chest. She looked up at her friend and hissed the word, “Go.”

  Nick grabbed Margaret’s arm and this time she didn’t resist. The two of them got moving, leaving behind Ethel as she suffered a heart attack on the floor. Nick hoped it was that which would claim her and not Jake’s savage teeth.

  But it was not to be.

  The last thing he heard before Ethel’s screams pierced the air was the old lady shouting at Jake, “I’ve taken shits harder than you, you pussy.”

  Nick couldn’t help but chuckle as he and the others passed into the shadows of the treeline. The only thing that wiped the smile from his face was when he looked back and saw the feisty old dame being ripped apart like a tough old steak. Jake’s yellow coat had suddenly become very red.

  chapter seven

  Nick and the others eventually came to a stop in a clearing about half a mile into the woods. Everyone was sweating, having run uphill most of the way. At least they had managed to leave Jake behind as he chowed down on poor old Ethel. Nick could still hear the infected teenager’s animalistic shrieks sounding off in the distance.

  Dave slumped up against a gnarled oak tree. Perspiration soaked his dirty brown and grey hair and matted it against his forehead. “I pray we never have to do that again,” he said, panting. “I think I left one of my lungs back there.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Nick. He knelt down on the floor and tried to catch his breath. “Has anyone else been bitten since this morning?”

  “Why?” Cassie asked.

  “Because that’s what happened to Jake. That little girl bit him on the hand. Now he’s infected. That’s how this thing is spreading. One infected person bites a healthy person and that person becomes infected, bites the next person and repeats the cycle. I feel dumb for not understanding it until now, but it makes sense. I just can’t believe how quick it happens.”

  Carl spat a wad of saliva into the mud and wiped the moisture from his face. “So we could all end up like one of those things?”

  “If you get bitten, yes,” said Nick. “Has anybody been bitten?”

  Everyone shook their head.

  “Okay,” said Dave, seeming to relax a little. “We all better be real careful from now on. We come across someone infected and we do our best to run for it. No trying to fight with them like we did that little girl.”

  “That was unavoidable,” said Nick, feeling bad about Jake’s fate and how it had involved him trying to help with the little girl.

  “Unavoidable or not,” said Eve. “We have to be more careful. I’m not ending up like one of those monsters.”

  “They’re still
people,” Nick shouted. “My wife and son were infected, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you keep calling them monsters.”

  “I’m sorry,” Eve said, folding her arms, “but as nice as people might once have been, if they’ve caught whatever this thing is then they’re monsters now – plain and simple.”

  Nick clenched his fists.

  Before anything else was said, Dave shushed the both of them. “There’s no point arguing over it. I think we all know, deep down, that these people are sick – infected – or whatever. But they’re also dangerous and we cannot forget that.”

  “I think some of them are dead,” said Cassie.

  The group went silent.

  “This nonsense again,” Carl muttered.

  “I think she’s right,” said Eve. “Nick killed an infected old man back at the garden centre where he rescued me. The guy came right back to life and came after us again. He was all messed up and slow and everything, but he was still moving around, even with most of his neck missing.”

  Nick shook his head. He couldn’t contain his grief any longer. It had been building in the pit of his stomach like an ulcer and now felt like a leaden weight in his guts. He had to let it out. “I…I killed my son. He was infected, too, but he didn’t come back to life after I killed him. He stayed dead. He is dead.”

  “Well, that shoots Cassie’s theory right out of the water,” said Carl. “The dead are not getting up and walking around.”

  Nobody said anything.

  The full weight of the confession suddenly dawned on Nick and he didn’t like the way so many sets of eyes were suddenly staring at him. He didn’t want their judgment – not about what had happened to James. They could never understand his loss, or what had occurred in that kitchen. Nick wished he hadn’t spoken, but the words had exploded from him like pus from an infected wound. He hadn’t been able to stem it once it began flowing.