Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(108)

Annaliese wore a puzzled expression when he opened the door to meet her. “What?” she said. “How did you?”

“It’s not important.” He moved past her so that he was fully away from the stuffy cellar which had been his prison for the past several days. Up ahead, he spotted Eve and immediately headed towards her.

“Eve,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

To his surprise, she wrapped both arms around him and squeezed him tightly. She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should have believed you. Shawcross is responsible for Dave’s death. We should never have blamed you.”

Nick eased her away. There wasn’t time for apologies, or any need of them either. “It’s okay,” he said. “No harm done. Just promise to trust me from now on.”

“I promise.”

He cleared his throat and looked around. He was accompanied by Renee, Annaliese, Cassie, Eve, and Pauline. A table in the middle of the room was piled with makeshift weapons. He picked up a replica hunting rifle that had been cut loose from the laser shooting gallery at the midway area. It would make a good club and had also received the modification of a nine-inch nail wedged into the barrel; an excellent bayonet in tight circumstances.

Good thing one of the weapon stashes is here in the restaurant.

The rest of the group armed up, too. Then they all stood in a loose huddle, staring at one another apprehensively. Cassie looked the most nervous and was clutching a sharp blade against her chest.

“So, just fill me in one last time,” said Nick. “Shawcross has Dash with him and they are going around killing people?”

“Alan is with them, too,” said Pauline. “Maybe Jan and Michelle as well.”

“Shawcross has this crazy idea,” Annaliese explained. “That the group’s chance of survival will be better if there are fewer of us. He’s found the park’s greenhouse facility and has stockpiled all of our supplies there. Apparently there is not enough to sustain us all.”

“So the crazy sonofabitch is trying to…what? Cull us? Jesus!”

Crunch!

The group turned towards the open window as the sound of cracking glass and shattering plates came from outside. Someone had breached the minefield.

“They’re here,” said Annaliese, holding up the butcher’s knife she clutched tightly in her hand.

“Everyone, keep quiet,” said Nick. “And get down.”

The group took cover behind the bar and the various tables lying around. Then they waited.

Minutes passed.

Nothing.

Nick peered over the top of the bar and made eye contact with Annaliese, who was perched behind an upturned table. It was clear from her expression that she was as tense as he was.

What are they doing out there, he asked himself. Why are they not trying to come inside?

They’re planning something.

Something came flying through the open window and thudded on the floor. Whatever it was rolled a few metres and then came to a stop in the middle of the restaurant.

It was a head.

But it was not human.

Annaliese moaned out loud as she looked down at the severed head. “Lily! You bastards.”

Nick looked down at the orang-utan head and could not believe it. Was Shawcross really that twisted?

“We’ve killed your precious friend, Anna,” came Shawcross’s nasally voice from outside. “And if you don’t surrender now, we will systematically kill every animal in the petting zoo.”

Annaliese shook her head and began crying. Nick could see that the threat would not work on her, would not make her give up, but it was upsetting her a great deal. It upset him, too.

“You’ll kill them anyway,” she shouted back. “So don’t take me for a fool.”

“That’s the last thing I take you for,” said Shawcross. “You’re a smart, rational person, so if you come out peacefully, I will rethink things and let you live.”

“Whether I live or die is not your choice, Shawcross. You are not God.”

There was laughter from outside. “No, you’re right. I am not God. God is impotent. God is idle. God is inaction. I am better than Him. I am ambition. I am leadership. I am survival. I am-”

“You are batshit crazy,” Nick shouted. “That’s what you are. Nothing but a run-of-the-mill nutcase with delusions of grandeur and a messiah complex. You’re a f*cking cliché, mate.”

“Ah, Nick. Is that you? I take it that our darling, sweet Anna has released you from your penance? Just another transgression that she will later come to regret.”

He’s talking like a raving lunatic. I must have damaged his brain when I punched him.

“Just give this up, Shawcross,” Nick shouted over the bar. “You’re not hurting anybody else tonight.”

“I beg to differ.”

There was silence for a while. Nick again made eye contact with Annaliese as the two of them tried to figure out what was happening outside.

I don’t like this. We need to see what’s going on.

Eve moved away from her position by the soda fountain and came and joined him at the bar. “Do you smell that?” she said.

Nick could indeed smell it. Petrol had begun pouring through the open window, pooling on the wooden floor of the restaurant.