Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(56)

Annaliese bent her knees and kept low. It was an instinctual movement and she instantly felt less exposed as she ducked down beside the room’s large mahogany table.

While she could not see anybody else in the dining room, her ears picked up the slightest sound of movement. It would not quite register what it was exactly, but it was regular, almost rhythmic.

She crept onwards, heading for the foyer, her wellington boots sticking to the tacky bloodstains on the stone floor as she moved. As a vet, she was no stranger to blood, but so much of it, and spilled so unceremoniously, was a little hard to handle. She had to take deep breaths in order to keep her stomach and bladder under control.

As she crossed the dining room, staying close to the table, the mysterious rhythmic sound became louder. Either that or she was closer to the source.

Tap, tap.

Tap, tap.

Annaliese rounded the corner of the table and stepped out into the open. There was an overturned chair in front of her, but it was too small to provide cover. She would have to just hope and pray that none of the sick people were in a position to see her.

Tap, tap.

The noise seemed to be coming from her right, over in the far corner of the dining room. As she looked over, she saw movement amongst the overturned furniture. She couldn’t help herself but take a couple of steps closer. Her curiosity demanded to know more.

Tap, tap.

She took a moment to check behind her as she took another step. The last thing she needed was to be jumped from behind. When she turned back around, she finally spotted the source of the noise. It was a sight she wished she could un-see.

She put a hand to her mouth and felt her eyes water. “My God.”

Ten feet away, lying amongst a pile of broken chairs was an infected person. It was one of the slower ones – one of the dead ones? It was lying on its back. Perhaps a male, but it was hard to know for sure. His face was a half-eaten mess, only the chomping jaws still left intact. The tapping sound was coming from the man’s thrashing legs. They had been stripped clean of flesh from above the knees downwards. The exposed bones of the foot and ankle were clicking against the stone floor as the decimated figure tried to move. With each attempt to get up, his withered legs folded uselessly beneath him.

Tap, tap.

Tap.

The torn-apart man finally spotted Annaliese and let out a pained moan in her direction. It was almost like a plea for help, but she knew what would happen if she got too close. The body dragged and clawed itself across the floor, trying to get at her, but its progress was snail-like. As long as Annaliese kept moving, the body would pose no risk.

She crept onwards, trying to shake the disturbing images from her mind. The doorway to the reception hall was just up ahead. She could see the front doors of the foyer that led outside to the grounds. A voice in her mind urged her to just make a break for it; get outside on her own and run for help. But then she remembered that the others would be coming out in five minutes. They were counting on her to clear the way.

I have to do this.

Okay, here goes nothing.

Annaliese straightened up and stepped out into the foyer. She prayed with every ounce of her spirit that the space would be empty, just like it had been when she’d first entered with Bradley.

That was not the case, though.

When she stepped into the reception area, there were at least a dozen infected people staring directly at her. All as one, they let out a scream.

And then they came for her.





Chapter Fifteen


Annaliese was surrounded on all sides. Infected people came at her from behind the reception desk, from inside the function suite’s entrance, and from atop the staircase. The only place left to run was back towards the kitchen, but she knew she wouldn’t make it. They had the jump on her.

A stocky man in a navy blue jumper came at Annaliese from her left. He snarled and growled like a pit-bull. He collided with her so hard that she went hurtling back into the dining room. Her foot struck something and suddenly she found herself off-balance. She looked down to see that the body with the skeletal legs had managed to crawl across the stone floor and reach her. She’d stumbled right into its grasp. The decimated man was now clawing at her leg, trying to bite down on her ankle. If not for her thick wellington boots, he might have succeeded.

The stocky man in the blue jumper came at her again. She managed to kick her leg free from her attacker on the floor and hop aside just in time. The stocky man went crashing into the dining room table and tumbled to the floor.

More were coming.

Annaliese looked up to see the horde of infected rushing into the room. Seeking the nearest barrier to protect herself, she leapt up onto the mahogany dining table and clambered down its length. She was counting on the erratic, uncoordinated movements of her pursuers to buy her some time. Sure enough, as they reached the table themselves, they struggled to gain purchase and lift themselves up onto its polished surface to come after her.

Annaliese dodged candelabras and centrepieces as she made her way down the table. She peered back over her shoulder to see that only a couple of infected people had managed to clamber up onto the table after her – they slid and skittered about as they tried to keep their balance – but most of the remaining mob pursued her from the ground. They reached up at her as they kept pace alongside her.

Pure survival instinct urged her onwards, but it soon became apparent that she was running out of table, like a plane nearing the end of a runway. She had to think fast.