Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(37)

Nick felt bloated and overly-full already, but found that the act of eating helped take away some of his stresses; allowed him to blank his mind of its troubles while he focused on a basic human need.

Guess there’s a reason they call it comfort eating.

At his table were Eve, Margaret, and Pauline. Carl, Cassie, and Renee sat at another table, while Jan, Dash, and Dave sat at a third. The women at Nick’s table all looked very satisfied as they finished off their French fries. They also had a variety of soft drinks in front of them, which they slurped readily, except for Margaret who was drinking piping hot tea.

“Nothing seems as bad after a good brew,” said Margaret. “It can get you through anything.”

Eve wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I bet you’ve seen some stuff in your lifetime, Margaret.”

“I have at that. Not anything like this, though. This is hell on earth. A right bloody shambles.”

“You think it’s the same everywhere?” Pauline asked, rubbing at her eyes and smudging her make-up.

“I do,” said Margaret. “There seems to be something very deliberate about all this. How could things degenerate so completely without being planned? Should we believe that there weren’t any doctors who picked this up early? That the Government had no warning at all? If that’s the case then this is either the work of very powerful enemies or a very angry God. And neither of those would release something this destructive solely on a little island like Britain.”

“So you think it’s happening in other countries, too?” Nick asked. He held a cardboard beer mat in his hands and was absentmindedly peeling away the label.

Margaret nodded. “I’d say this is happening at least in the Western world. If it was terrorists, for example, they would have far more to gain by releasing this in America or mainland Europe. It would be a waste to focus it only on us. The spread of the disease would halt at our natural barriers – the coastline.

“Maybe someone just wants to set an example. Hold the world to ransom by showing what they can do. Maybe we’re being used to send a message.”

The old lady shrugged. “Only time will tell.”

Nick nodded his head slowly as he thought about it.

I wonder how much time any of us have left.

While Nick’s mind was wandering, Dave decided to stand up and address the group. He cleared his throat and began. “Perhaps now would be a good opportunity for us to get some rest; see what tomorrow brings.” Nobody argued, so he continued. “We can turn off the lights and bed down wherever we can. Margaret, you can have the sofa in the staffroom.”

“Thank you.”

“Then we can hold a meeting in the morning to figure out what our next move will be, although I would suggest staying here until help finds us. Agreed?”

With no one taking exception, the group began shuffling around as they each tried to find somewhere soft to lie down amongst the various hard surfaces. Margaret headed off for the staffroom to claim her sofa while Dave claimed the tall-backed leather chair in the manager’s office. Nick decided to roll up his coat as a pillow and just bed down on the restaurant floor. There would be nowhere else that was comfortable, so why waste time looking? Eve and Pauline did the same, lying down a few feet from him. The three prisoners huddled up in the corner of the restaurant, making a bed from some aprons they’d found hanging up on the kitchen wall. Carl and Cassie separated off to sleep in the kitchen. Nick wondered if the two of them had formed a relationship throughout the day’s events as they had become inseparable.

Good for them. Glad something positive came out of today.

Nick laid his head back on his rolled-up coat and stared up at the suspended ceiling hanging above them all. The lights in the building had now been switched off and moonlight spilled in through the surrounding windows. If it wasn’t for all the bloodshed, one might even have described the night as beautiful.

Deana would have found this romantic, bedding down on the floor under the moonlight.

I miss you…

He closed his eyes and listened to the silence for what seemed like hours until, finally, the silence was replaced by the dozing snores of his companions. The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him, too, was a soft whimpering coming from Eve as she struggled with the unseen terrors of her dreams.





chapter ten

When Nick opened his eyes he was back at home, standing in his kitchen. Deana stood at the sink, washing dishes with her back to him. James lay on the cold tiles, staring up at the ceiling as if he was paralysed.

James, what are you doing on the floor?

Nick stepped forward and looked down at his son. He tried to speak to him, to tell him to get up, but no sound escaped his lips. When he pressed his fingers to his face he realised that it was because he had no lips. There was only coarse scar tissue where his mouth should have been.

Oh God…

Deana turned around to face Nick. Her face was mouth-less, too. Her eyes were wet with blood and crimson tears stained her cheeks. In her hand she held a claw hammer. She offered it to him. For some reason he could not stop himself from taking it. He held the heavy hammer in his hand and spun around as if he were suspended by invisible wires. He was powerless to take control of his own body as he took two strides across the kitchen floor and knelt beside his son’s paralysed body.

James continued staring up at the ceiling, blinking occasionally, but never moving.