Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel
Wright, Iain Rob
“Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking towards me, without hurrying.”
- Jean Cocteau
“We are living on the brink of the apocalypse, but the world is asleep.”
- Joel C. Rosenberg
“He’s got an arm off!”
- Simon Pegg, Shaun of the Dead, 2004
NEWS REPORT: SEPTEMBER 29th 2012
Terrorist attack suspected of killing up to 1500 people as commercial cruise liner, SPIRIT OF KIRKPATRICK, sinks due to massive explosion.
Joint relief efforts are underway in the Mediterranean Sea, where the tragedy occurred, by several nations including France, Italy, UK, and Egypt, but so far no survivors have been found. It is thought that the explosion, which caused the entire 33,000 tonne vessel to sink below the waves within minutes, occurred inside the engine compartment.
No group has yet come forward to claim responsibility for the attack, but owners of the doomed cruise liner, Black Remedy Corporation, have claimed that, with the stringent safety measures present on all of their public passenger ships, there is no possible cause for the disaster other than an act of terrorism.
The company has previously been targeted by eco-terrorists and religious groups because of its reputation for operating unethically in the 3rd world and for allegations of corruption and sabotage. While the vast, multi-national corporation has made great efforts in the last decade to conduct its affairs to a better moral standard, it is thought that there may still be groups and individuals who wish to target it.
NATO Secretary, General Able Rasmussen, condemned the suspected suicide attack as ‘despicable’.
Part One: LIFE
Chapter One
“The whole town is dead,” said Paul, re-entering the phone shop with a bored shuffling of his feet.
Nick gazed out at the shopping centre’s vacant seating areas and deserted walkways, and saw that his co-worker’s statement was correct. The Boots megastore directly opposite – usually teeming with customers – was devoid of a single shopper. Its typically vibrant team of staff were pottering around aimlessly, re-jigging shelf displays and chatting to one another for lack of anything else to do.
Likewise, the small mobile phone shop that Nick managed was also unbearably quiet. It’d been more than two hours since the last customer stepped through the open metal shutter that fronted the store. Every minute had begun to feel like hours.
“I wonder why it’s so quiet,” Nick mused out loud, directing the question to his colleague. “Is England playing football today or something?”
Paul shrugged, shook his bald head. “Hey, I’m Sikh. I only know when there’s cricket on.”
Nick chuckled, but still felt worried. With no customers, how on earth were they going to get any sales. He needed to earn his bonus this month, to cover the deposit he had already paid, and yet didn’t really have, on a new car.
“All the other shops were just as quiet as us when you checked?” he asked.
“Yeah. I spoke to Chris at Game Traders and he said they haven’t had a customer since eleven. They’ve been dossing around, playing Fifa all day.”
Nick’s watch told him it was just after three. The daily sales target was a nigh-on-impossible feat to achieve now. Paul had set up a two-year iPhone contract for an overweight teenager first thing that morning, but hadn’t sold a thing since. Nick himself hadn’t taken much more than a few quid through the tills. Nothing but credit top-ups and bill payments.
Actually, I sold that SpongeBob phone sock, too. Whoop-de-do.
Nick rubbed at the dull, black stubble on his chin and stifled a yawn. Area manager’s going to have my balls in a vice if we don’t get more sales on the board.