Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(12)

There’s nothing happening here. When I head back to the front of my house I’ll see that I was just imagining it all. Maybe I’m the one with fever.

But he knew that wasn’t true. People were dying and he needed to get help. Help for Deana.

Nick shifted back into first gear and rolled the car forwards, picking up speed as quickly as the 2-litre engine would allow. The sooner he found help, the better things would be. Somewhere there would be people dealing with the situation. Somewhere there would be answers and—

Nick stamped on the brake again.

“Goddamn it!” he shouted, more out of fright than anger.

It was Lara.

She banged on the windscreen with her palms. “Let me in, please!”

Nick shook his head. He didn’t have time for this, nor did he owe the woman anything after she had left him alone to fend off her husband.

He brought the clutch up, ready to take off.

“Please,” she begged him.

Nick sighed. He flipped the toggle on the dashboard to disengage the locks. “Get in the back. Quickly!”

She nodded gratefully and made for the rear passenger door but, before she managed to open it, someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her back into the shadows. Nick heard her screams, but he could not see what was happening. He waited a few seconds, unsure how to proceed, before finally deciding that Lara was a lost cause and that he should just drive off.

But then the woman reappeared out of the shadows and leapt for the car. She yanked open the door and sprawled onto the back seat. She was bleeding badly, but it was impossible to tell from where.

“Go,” she spluttered at him, pulling the door closed behind her. “G-g-get the f*ck out of here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Nick gunned the engine and took off as quickly as the car could accelerate. He had to steer erratically to avoid knocking over his various wandering neighbours, including the disembowelled young boy, but he managed to make it to the end of the road without running into any further trouble. There was a war being waged in his neighbourhood and he was retreating. The screams filled the air behind him.

Steering the car onto the main road, leaving the chaotic nightmare behind him, Nick let loose a sigh of relief. It felt good to be on the road and moving fast.

I’m just dreading having to stop again.

A few moments later, once his breathing was back under control, he turned and checked on his passenger. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

Lara nodded, but her skin had lost all colour. Her clothing was soaked with dark blood. She was an absolute mess. Hardly surprising considering the shock she had been through and the attack she had endured.

She’s lucky to be alive.

Nick focused on the road. The sun had now risen fully above the horizon and the shadows were shrinking away. The world seemed to be coming alive.

But it had awoken in a panic.

Travelling in the opposite direction on the main road was a police car. It was going full pelt; its sirens blaring, its lights flashing. A fire truck headed along right behind it.

“This is nuts,” Nick said. “What in Christ’s name is happening? Did I miss a terrorist attack or something?”

“M…my husband. He just went crazy.”

“It’s not just him, Lara. Everyone is acting the same. I don’t know why.”

“He…he’s never ever tried to hurt me before.”

Nick sighed. She wasn’t listening. “Your husband is sick. He wasn’t in control of himself.”

Other cars entered the main road from multiple side streets, creating a steady stream of increasing traffic. All of the drivers were exceeding the speed limit, some outrageously so. Nick had only been on the road ten minutes when he witnesses a turquoise Vauxhall Astra hurtle into a ditch at ninety miles an hour. The vehicle crunched up like an accordion. The chances of surviving such an accident seemed pretty unlikely and Nick wasn’t about to try and help someone so reckless. He drove on.

One thing had become very clear: what had happened in Nick’s neighbourhood was not an isolated incident; people everywhere were fleeing. To where exactly, Nick did not know, but his own destination was clearer. He had to make it to the hospital; talk to a doctor and find out if Deana could be helped; at least find out if they understood what was happening. Then, once he finally had some answers, he would start to face up to what he had done; start processing the fact that he had killed his own son. How he would ever come to terms with that, if at all, he did not know.

A pile-up up ahead caused Nick to slow down. A motorcyclist took it as an opportunity to overtake, but was quickly forced to decelerate as well. The entrance to the duel carriageway was choked by an overturned lorry and a crumpled police car. There was no room for another vehicle to get past and the road was a bust, but the guy on the motorbike had other ideas. The leather-clad rider obviously thought he could squeeze his chopper through the gaps and keep heading forward.

Nick stopped the car and put on the handbrake. He watched the biker trundle along at a snail’s pace, kicking the bike along manually and trying to manoeuvre it through the twisted wreckage. Just when it looked like he might actually get clear onto the highway, a female police officer ran at him from behind the lorry. She tackled him clean off his bike and dragged him to the ground. Seconds later the motorcyclist was screaming as more people appeared from the wreckage and started tearing him apart.