Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(112)

Nick didn’t like increasing Shawcross’s chances of running away, but he was too out of breath to keep running so fast anyway. Against his better judgement, he allowed himself to slow down. “Where were you, anyway, man?” Nick asked Jan. “You saved my ass back there in the nick of time.”

“A man spends long enough in a prison, he starts to appreciate solitude. I was just walking in the woods, enjoying the quiet.”

“I understand what you mean,” said Renee.

Jan looked at his fellow prisoner, dumbfounded. “You…you talk?”

Renee shrugged as if it was nothing.

“Long story,” said Nick. “I’ll fill you in later.

“Fair enough.”

Shawcross was out of breath, too, and had slowed down to a panicked stagger. In front of him was the dark spectre of Ripley Hall.

“What are we going to do with him if we catch him?” Jan asked.

“When we catch him,” Nick said. “And I don’t know. I’ll figure it out once we have him.”

They entered onto the lawns of the grand old house and stuck close to the rows of trees that towered over the lawns. Shawcross kept glancing back over his shoulder at them, but made no effort to increase his speed. He seemed broken and unable to run from them any faster.

Nick cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. “It’s over, Shawcross. You’re done.”

Shawcross turned around to face them. He was panting heavily. “It…would…appear so…wouldn’t it?”

“No one else needs to get hurt, buddy,” Jan said. “Just surrender.”

Shawcross shook his head and gave them an icy stare. “You really think I’m stupid enough to do that? You’d just kill me. You have no choice after what I’ve done.”

“No more killing,” said Nick.

“Then what? What do you plan to do with me?”

Nick was silent. He had no answer.

Shawcross nodded slowly. “Exactly.” He took a step backwards, towards the house. Then he took another.

“What are you doing?” Nick asked. “Get away from there.”

“I’ve looked after this house like it was my own for ten years, did you know that?”

Nick shook his head. He quickened his steps, hoping to get close enough to grab Shawcross without him making a bolt for it. There was some distance to close before that could happen though. They still had to shout to be heard.

“I was in charge of a piece of history. Lords have lived here; cousins to kings and queens. Powerful men with royal blood running through their veins. My job was to walk in their footsteps and respect their past.”

“Where are you going with this, Shawcross? What’s your point?”


“My point is that you all f*cked it up! You brought death to Ripley Hall. You tarnished its legacy and now you scuttle around like rodents, disrespecting the history of where you are; disrespecting my position as guardian of this place. I was in charge here and you knocked me down, you violated me, and you reduced me to your level. You took away my integrity and the integrity of this place. You have no respect, for anything.”

“It’s just a house and a shitty amusement park, Shawcross. A cash cow. The integrity of this place was lost long before we arrived here.”

Shawcross took several more steps backwards. He moved up onto the front steps of Ripley Hall. “Hold your tongue, for you know not the nonsense you speak.”

Nick put his hand up and increased his pace to a jog. Renee and Jan kept close behind him. “Hey, man, get away from there and stop acting crazy. The whole place is full of infected people.”

Shawcross shrugged. His eyes were droopy and tired. He looked like a mad man and spoke in a faraway, dreamy tone. “It is full of my guests and I would be grateful if you referred to them as such. I should go tend to them, make sure things are in order. Heaven knows what state the house will be in. It’s time to clean up.”

Shawcross turned around and headed up the few final steps to the house. He stood in front of the doors.

Nick ran as fast as he could, closing the distance, hoping to get there before… “Shawcross, just get back from there, please.”

But Shawcross did not turn around. “Do you know what I think, Nicholas?”

“No,” said Nick, skidding on his heels and stopping just feet away from the front doors to the house. He now walked slowly, his hand out in front of him. He did not want to make any sudden moves. “No, Shawcross, I don’t know what you think, but we can talk about it.”

Shawcross shook his head and smiled. He was no longer listening or even looking at them. He was talking to himself. “What I think, is that we are all f*cked. And, if that’s the case, I think I’d like to be with my house. It’s where I belong. I’m the manager, you see. Ripley Hall needs its manager.”

Shawcross turned around, inserted his keys, and opened the doors.

“NO!” Nick shouted, sprinting forward to stop the man even though it was already too late.

The dead flooded out like pus from a wound.

They sprawled on top of Shawcross, pinning him to the ground beneath a pile of bodies three-deep. His flesh was mercilessly torn away by a dozen hungry mouths, but Nick did not hear the man scream. Shawcross remained silent as they tore him to pieces, but the look in his eyes was one of sheer terror. It looked like he was afraid of whatever came next.