Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(65)

The chaos that had filled the zoo finally ceased. A quiet stillness gradually grew and expanded. Annaliese stood by and stared into the enclosure with a mixture of both awe and horror spiralling through her guts. She felt sick.

Lily began to make a sobbing noise as Brick fell to the floor, panting and wheezing. Blood spilled from his various wounds and, now that the fight was over, his body had finally given in. Lily cradled him in her arms and stroked at his face. His mighty chest heaved up and down in great gasps of air. From the nearby mangrove tree, Lily’s infant made frightened squeals.

Annaliese knew that Brick was dying. He had only minutes left as blood leaked from a severed artery in his neck. As a vet, she couldn’t help but be fascinated by what she had just witnessed. Brick had protected Lily and her infant bravely, like any human father would. Now that he was mortally wounded, Lily held him in her long arms like a loving partner. Her pained hoots and wails made her grief plain to see.

I guess tragedy isn’t exclusive to the human race.

The infant orang-utan began to climb down the tree, hanging from a branch and then swinging to a lower one, before dropping the last few feet to the ground. Lily craned her neck and hooted at her baby. It sounded like a warning to be cautious, but the infant started towards its mother anyway, bounding along on its tiny fists.

Annaliese was the first to notice the danger, even before Lily did. “Look out,” she cried, trying to communicate across species. But it was no good.

It was too late.

The infected man with the broken femur was still moving, crawling along on his belly. He lay right in the path of the approaching infant. By the time the baby orang-utan realised the danger it was already beyond escape. The infected man reached up and caught a hold of the squealing infant, pinning it down and sinking his teeth into its belly.

The baby ape squealed in terror and agony.

Lily let go of Brick and bellowed like a bass drum. She leapt the distance between herself and her baby in one urgent leap. She landed beside the infected man and twisted his head around, breaking the neck with a single vicious flick. The man went still, face down in the grass.

Lily picked up her bleeding infant and rocked it desperately, patted its head and swung it to and fro.

But the baby was dead.

The pain on Lily’s face was human in every way. Her whimpers pierced the air like a siren.

Annaliese felt tears stream down her face as she watched the female orang-utan lollop back over to Brick with her dead baby held tightly in her arms. When it became clear that he, too, was dead, Lily let free a deep and endless wail.

When it finally stopped, Annaliese wiped the tears from her face and left Lily alone. There was nothing that could be done. Death was everywhere.





Chapter Twenty

Annaliese knocked on the door to the Reptile House and spoke her name. A few seconds later, Shawcross opened it. The people inside were all now armed with various rudimentary weapons: mops, bits of wood, and other salvaged materials. They looked like a lynch mob; all that was lacking were the torches.

Shawcross faced her down. “Is it safe? Are the doors of the house closed? What was all that noise?”

“The house is secure,” she told him. “As long as we all stay back from the grounds then all of the infected people should stay locked up inside.”

“What about the zoo, the park?”

“I think it’s safe. There were some infected people wondering around outside, but they’re dead now – dead dead.”

Shawcross raised an eyebrow. “You killed them?”

“Not exactly, but they’ve been dealt with, trust me.”

He seemed irritated by the lack of concrete facts but, after a moment’s thought, he seemed to be satisfied with what he’d been told.

“Then we should leave,” he said. “Go and find help; someone who can clear this whole mess up.”

Annaliese shrugged. “If that’s what everybody wants to do.”

Mike spoke up. “We don’t know that it’s any safer elsewhere. No one has been able to contact help. Back in the kitchen nobody could get a call through on their mobiles. And you,” he nodded towards Shawcross, “put a call through on the landline when things first went bad. Nobody came. I have a bad feeling.”

Shawcross rubbed at his chin and stared at Mike for a moment. “So what are you saying? That we’re doomed? That nowhere is safe?”

“I’m just saying that I don’t think we should take safety for granted. It might be a luxury right now.”

“You’re saying we should stay here?” Annaliese asked. She wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea or not.

Mike nodded. “We’re five-hundred feet above the ground, on top of a hill surrounded by woodland on all sides. The only thing we don’t have is a castle and a garrison of archers. If this thing – whatever it is – has spread, then I feel much safer up here than down there.”

“Nonsense,” said Shawcross. “These people have families to get back to. We need to report all this to the police.”

“Not if it means us dying,” Mike said. “And I’m not sure there is any police to report things to. You already called them, remember?”

Shawcross folded his arms. “We’re leaving.”

Annaliese put her hand up. “Hold on a minute, Shawcross. You don’t speak for everyone. Perhaps it would be better if we tried to find out what the situation down below is first, before we get in our cars and set off into the unknown.”