Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(53)

The dead came after us like something out of a horror movie. But then, just when we couldn’t dream of things getting worse, all of the unconscious people snapped awake and came after us as well. They were quick as lightning, not like the dead ones, and outnumbered us three to one. We were lucky that any of us made it out alive. A group of us ended up in this kitchen, but half our number was badly injured and bleeding. It was too late for them, we already knew.”

Annaliese pointed at the people in the freezer. “You mean these people?”

“Yes. We had all seen what had happened to those who’d been injured in the bar lounge. They got very sick very fast, passed out unconscious, and then woke up again, with whatever it is that’s driving people insane. When one of the injured guests started feeling weak from his injuries, he volunteered to be restrained in case he became violent like the others. We attached him to the refrigeration racks in the freezer and turned up the thermostat so he wouldn’t freeze. Then, slowly, one-by-one, all of the people with injuries – no matter how small – started to come down with the sickness. Eventually, we had no choice but to secure everyone in the freezer for safety – theirs and ours.” He let out a small laugh that was more of an exasperated huff than anything else. “You know, it’s funny,” he said, “but not a single one of them protested as we locked them up inside this fridge. It’s as though they knew they were doomed; resigned to their fates.”

“They’re not doomed,” said Annaliese. “They’re just ill. We need to call for help.”

“You’re forgetting that I already did. I placed the call about…” he looked at his watch, “eight hours ago. Nobody has arrived yet. We’ve been waiting in here all night, listening to those monsters outside tear the place apart.” He seemed almost close to tears at the thought of the manor being out of his control. “Then we heard you shouting,” he said. “To be quite frank, Anna, I thought it was a bad idea opening up the doors for you, but Kimberly didn’t feel it was right to leave you out there to die. It was her that opened the doors for you.”


Annaliese patted him on the arm. Her usual opinion of Shawcross was that he was a stuffy, pedantic *, but she could tell that he was genuinely shaken by everything that had happened. He seemed fragile to the point of breaking. “It’s okay,” she said to him. “You were just being pragmatic, and that’s good.”

He seemed relieved to hear her say that.

Annaliese took another glance at the prisoners – volunteers – in the fridge again. All of them were glaring at her and reaching out with their hands. They were all making that wretched screeching sound.

“They only make that noise when they can see you,” Shawcross said. “I think it’s how they let each other know when they find someone to attack. Fresh meat or whatever.”

Annaliese cringed at the description. She didn’t like to think of herself as meat in any scenario. “This is all impossible,” she said. “There is no known condition that could cause this kind of behaviour. Cannibalistic rage? It’s…it’s insane. The stuff of fiction.”

Shawcross slammed the freezer door shut. The screeching immediately stopped.

“I can’t make any more sense of this than you, but I have one last thing to show you that might make you accept what we’re up against.”

Annaliese took in a breath and fought against the rising sickness in her stomach. How much more could there be to see?

At the very back of the vast industrial kitchen was a door, which Shawcross now stood in front of. Annaliese assumed it was the pantry.

“What’s inside there?” she asked.

“See for yourself.” He twisted the door handles and pulled it wide open.

Annaliese shook her head. “Just when I think things are screwed up enough.”

Inside the pantry, hanging from a light fixture by what appeared to be a bright red tie was a body. It was kicking and wriggling as it hung by its neck.

“When I said everybody went willingly into the freezer I wasn’t entirely truthful,” Shawcross explained. “James was one of the company managers at the function last night. He never owned up to having been bitten; none of us knew. He covered it up with his sleeve. While we were all distracted with moving the injured people into the freezer he must have snuck off on his own. I found him hanging like this a few hours ago. I haven’t told the others.”

“He’s been like this for hours? That can’t be. Nobody could-”

“Survive being hanged by their neck all that time?” He finished the sentence for her. “No, they could not. This man is categorically dead. Check his pulse if you don’t believe me, but I would probably advise against getting that close.”

Annaliese watched the businessman swinging back and forth by his tie. The purple ligature marks around his neck were proof enough that the blood supply and oxygen had been cut off to his brain. There was no way the man could still be alive. What she was looking at was an animated corpse.

Impossible.

“We need to get out of here,” she said. “We need to get every Doctor and Scientist in the country out here working this thing out. Whatever is happening must have some explanation.”

Shawcross stared at her. “We can’t leave. There’s no way.”