Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(38)

Nick raised the hammer above his head – he stared into his son’s eyes – then brought it down with all of his strength. It struck James right between the eyebrows, caving in part of his skull and filling his eye sockets with blood.

Nick felt sick, horrified by what he had done.

He raised the hammer again.

This time he struck his son in the mouth, shattering his small teeth into tiny shards. James choked and spluttered as he struck with the hammer again, shattering his jaw completely and sending it sideways.

Nick wanted to die, to stop existing, and escape the abominable fate of destroying his son’s beautiful face.

He raised the hammer again.

Nick swung the hammer downwards, again and again, spraying blood and bone fragments into the air and coating everything with gore as he split apart flesh and mashed up brain matter. By the time he was through, there was nothing left of James but a lumpy, red residue on the grimy kitchen tiles.

He had just killed his son.

Again.

And Nick knew that he would keep on doing the exact same thing every night when he closed his eyes. Sleep would never again come easy.

In his dreams, he looked over at his wife pleadingly. This time Deana was facing him. She held a chef’s knife in her hand. Again, Nick was powerless as he took it from her.

When he turned back around, James’s face was back to how it had been, untouched by the vicious blows of the hammer; once again innocent and beautiful.

Nick knelt down and got back to work.

He raised the knife.

***

Nick’s eyes snapped open. His breathing was wet and ragged, hurting his chest as it forced its way from his lungs. He was surrounded by darkness, not full black but more of a floating gloom. When he saw the moon through the windows, he remembered where he was – he remembered everything.

Oh God. James, Deana. What the hell happened to my life? It just went away in the blink of an eye.

He sat up a little too quickly and thought he was going to throw up. The taste of cheap burger meat rose up and filled his gullet. Then he heard something and spotted that the lights were on in the kitchen area behind the counters.

In the darkness, he could see the fuzzy shapes of Eve and Pauline sleeping nearby. Whoever was in the kitchen, it wasn’t them.

Then who?

He rolled onto his knees and rose slowly to his feet. After what everybody had been through, he did not want to wake anybody up unjustly.

The sounds continued. As he headed over to the gap in the service counter, it seemed like somebody was weeping.

What the hell?

Is somebody crying?

Nick kept his footsteps slow and careful. He slid between the various cookers and countertops and tried not to make a sound. For some reason he felt compelled to creep, to keep his approach clandestine.

At the far end of the kitchen was an L-shaped corridor where the fridges were located. Peeking out from around that corner was a pair of legs. The feet sported heavy work boots that Nick thought he recognised.

I know whose boots those are.

Nick rounded the corner to see Carl lying face down on the floor. There was no blood and it was not immediately apparent what had happened to him. He could even have been sleeping, but somehow Nick knew it wasn’t true. He knew it for sure when he spotted Jan standing over Cassie while the girl cowered on the floor without her shirt.

Jan’s eyes immediately went wide when he noticed Nick’s presence. He quickly put his hands up in submission, holding them high above his head. “This isn’t what it looks like, brother,” he said.

“You have no idea what this f*cking looks like,” Nick growled. He looked down at Cassie, who was visibly stricken by whatever event had just transpired, and then shook his head in disgust. “Cassie, it’s okay. Come over here, to me.”

For a second it looked like she might refuse, but then she clambered to her feet shakily and scuttled over to him. Nick placed her behind him.

Jan stared Cassie hard in the eye as she cowered behind Nick. “You remember what we spoke about, sweetheart, okay?”

“You don’t talk to her,” Nick said. “You don’t say a word to her, you understand me?”

Jan shook his head. “You got this all wrong, brother.”

“The only thing I got wrong was letting a bunch of criminals tag along with us. Soon as the sun is up, you’re gone. When the others hear about this they’re going to lynch you.”

Jan laughed, his barrel chest heaving in and out. “Who? You and Dave? Don’t make me shit myself!”

Nick shoved out at Jan angrily, but found himself swatted aside like a measly fly. The larger man punched him in the ribs and then shoved him aside with ease. Nick flopped to his knees, clutching his abdomen. His lungs felt like they might explode as he fought desperately to catch a breath.

Jan strode forwards and shoved him backwards with a large right foot. He glared down at Nick as though he were a child. “We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he said, “and we’ll see who gets lynched.”

Then the large man turned and walked away. As he did so, he looked Cassie in the eye again. “You just keep quiet and things will sort themselves out, sweetheart. Trust me.”

Nick managed to catch a strangled breath and roll onto his side. He shuddered in pain. Cassie came up beside him and helped him to his feet. Her shirt was rolled up on the floor and she hastily picked it up and put it back on over her white, satin bra. Then it was as if she had suddenly remembered that Carl was unconscious. She dropped to her knees beside him and patted his cheeks. “Wake up,” she pleaded.