Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(33)

“And why don’t you do it?”

Dave huffed and pinched a roll of fat on his belly. “Because I’m not as light on my feet as you are.”

Nick sighed. He didn’t have a problem with going – it made sense. What he had a problem with was Dave thinking he had any right to give him orders.

Still, someone needs to do it. It might as well be me.

“Fine,” he said, already moving towards the clearing. “Everyone wait here.”

The ground ahead was free of the roots and undergrowth that had made their progress so laborious over the last few hours. It was a relief not having to step so carefully. He crouched down low as he headed towards the clearing, squinting to make out what was lurking beyond the distant treeline. As he crept, he concentrated on what he could hear as well as well as what he could see, but, aside from the various bird calls and wind-rustling bushes, there was total silence. He could only consider that as being positive; the last thing he wanted to hear was the bloodthirsty screech of an infected person.

It’s almost like an alarm they have. They see prey and go off like a siren.

Beyond the treeline was something large and grey – something manmade. As Nick crept closer, it became clear what he was looking at.

Well, I’ll be damned.

The car park on the edge of the woods was vast and empty. Its several hundred white-lined parking spaces were vacant; the whole area a barren field of weathered concrete. At the near end was a long, single-story building backing up against the base of a steep hill.

What is this place?

He knelt down in the grass and kept low as he headed down the embankment. He stepped cautiously onto the car park. In addition to the single-story building was something else; it looked like a cable car system. Its thick steel cords stretched up from the base of the hill all the way to the lofty summit. The cables seemed old, yet functional. The dozen or so carriage-cars were antiquated, small and rickety, with bright-red, peeling paintwork. But they were also intact and seemingly operational.

A ticket office and embarkation platform had been erected at the foot of the hill, backing up against one end of the single-story building. A large, suspended sign read: RIPLEY HEIGHTS AMUSEMENT PARK AND ZOO.

It’s some kind of tourist trap.

Nick scratched his chin and took another scan of the landscape. The whole area was deserted. Safe.

This could be interesting, he told himself, before heading back up the embankment and re-entering the woods. He needed to go and get the others.

Maybe one of them will know what this place is.

The group was waiting patiently when Nick returned to them in the woods. He immediately motioned for them to join him. Cautiously, they did so.

“What have we got?” Dave asked him.

“Not exactly sure. There’s a car park and a building. Looks like a café or a fast food place. There’s an amusement park nearby, I think. Up a massive hill. I haven’t seen a single soul and it looks pretty safe. There’s not even any cars in the car park.”

“Good work,” said Dave, patting him on the back like an old buddy. “Okay, people, let’s be cautious and keep our eyes peeled. We may be able to find a phone inside this café, so we might finally be able to get a call through to our loved ones and the authorities.”

There was a muted cheer from the group.

“Let’s move,” he said, leading the group in a slow moving charge, heading through the same gap in the trees that Nick had.

They all stepped carefully down the embankment and onto the cracked pavement of the car park. Then they took in their surroundings.

“Ripley Heights,” said Eve with an element of surprise in her voice. “I haven’t been here since I was a kid.”

“You know this place?” Nick asked her.

“Yeah, it’s a kiddie park. You take the cable car up to the top and there’s a petting zoo and some rides. It’s all pretty lame, but as a kid I loved it. Surprised the place is still going. It was falling apart ten years ago.”

“What’s this building up ahead?”

She let out a giggle. “It’s the Rainforest Café. I remember it like it was yesterday. My dad used to drag us out the car and then we’d all have go to the toilet while he paid for our tickets. Then he would make us all wait inside the café while he and mom had a coffee before we could ride to the top. Me and my sister hated that part. Kind of miss it now, though. My dad passed away a few years later; heart disease.” She let out a wistful sigh and Nick could tell she was thinking about her family and whether or not they were okay.

“Come on,” he told her, trying to keep her mind from exploring dark alleyways. “Let’s go and take a look around, before Dave takes over.”

She nodded and the two of them got going.

Up ahead, the long, single-story building was indeed called the Rainforest Café. The wooden sign had become weathered and frayed, but it only made it more befitting to its jungle theme. Through the grimy glass windows, Nick could see two dozen fibreboard tables surrounded by plastic chairs. At one end was a fast food counter with pictures of burgers and hot dogs above it.

“There’s no way for us to get inside,” he said. “And there’s no one in there to let us in.”

“We’ll break in,” said Dave.

It felt wrong to suggest such an act, but Nick couldn’t find a reason to object. With all the damage and destruction they had witnessed on the road, adding a little more seemed like spitting in the ocean.