Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

“Charlotte and Clark. Yeah, I know,” said Mike. “We work together at the Tamworth branch.”


“It’s good to see you’re okay, Mike,” Charlotte muttered.

“You too. I was beginning to think no one else made it.”

“Where did those infected come from?” Shawcross demanded. He was leant up against a tank full of corn snakes. The reptiles were pressing their triangular faces up against the glass in a vain attempt to inspect him further.

Annaliese shrugged. “We had to jump from an upstairs window. The infected followed us out.”

“Damn it!” Shawcross banged a fist against the corn snake’s terrarium, making them hiss and flick their tongues. “Then we’re trapped in here no better than we were in the kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said. “We have multiple exits now and open space inside and out if we have to make a run for it. Besides, Mike took two of them out. There’s not many out there now – just a couple.”

“What if they keep coming through the window?” Charlotte asked. “There could be dozens and dozens of them.”

Annaliese shook her head. “If they can’t see you, they just tend to mill about aimlessly. I don’t think they’ll jump out the window unless they spot someone to chase. They should all be secure inside the house as long as we don’t get close enough for them to see us.”

“So they’re all locked up safe?” Charlotte asked, obviously looking for reassurance.

Annaliese nodded. “As long as we lay low, everything should be-”

She stopped mid-sentence.

“What?” Mike asked. “What is it?”

“The doors. You left the front doors of the house wide open. There’s nothing to stop them just wandering out into the grounds.”

Mike stamped his foot. “Shit! You’re right. We were in such a panic that we all just ran outside without even thinking.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s done. But we need to get those doors shut before they gather back in the foyer and leak out onto the lawns. We won’t be safe otherwise. We don’t know how long it will be until help arrives. I’ll have to go back outside.”

“No way,” said Mike. “You’ve already risked your neck enough times already. Look at you, you’re exhausted.”

“Then who? Is anybody else willing to volunteer?”

There was silence amongst the group.

Annaliese tutted. Their lack of courage didn’t surprise her. People were selfish. Test them and they would always look out for number one. Her ex-husband had taught her that lesson. “I’m going back out in five minutes,” she said. “I just need to catch my breath first.”

“Then, I’m coming with you,” said Mike.

She shrugged. “Fine. The more the merrier.”

Least one of you has some balls.

“I’ll see if I can find you something to defend yourself with,” said Shawcross, wandering off into the darkness of the reptile house. Annaliese had the feeling that he just wanted to be away from her.

He probably feels more at home with the snakes.

Mike took Annaliese to one side. “I’m really sorry to ask, but did you-”

“Find your wallet? Yes, I have it. Almost died trying to get it, but I got it.” She slid her hand into her jean pocket and hissed as a bolt of agony shot through her knuckles.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

Annaliese held her hand out in front of her. Her little finger was bent back at an unnatural angle.

Mike looked as though he might heave. “Bloody hell. It looks broken.”

She examined her twisted digit and then shook her head. “No. It’ just dislocated. I must have done it when I fell out the window onto the mattress.”

“What do we do?”

She grabbed her little finger with her other hand and took a deep breath. “We don’t do anything,” she said. Then she snapped the finger back into place, yelling out against the worst agony she had ever felt in her life besides childbirth.

Then the pain was gone, replaced by a cold numbness.