Ravage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

375 Pages·2013·1.21 MB·English

by  Wright Iain Rob

BOOK SUMMARY
First people got sick. Then they got really sick.
Nick Adams is just a normal guy. He loves his family, appreciates his home,
and covets his car. But he absolutely hates his job. Which is what makes is so
difficult when not a single customer comes by his store that day. It seems as
though there’s a bug going around, something that has come out of nowhere and
is keeping people at home. Still, it’s probably nothing to worry about. People
get sick all the time.

And besides, things are finally starting to look up. Nick’s first customer of the
day has just stumbled through the door…

His day is about to get worse.
It won’t be long before Nick’s entire life is turned upside down, sending him on
a frantic journey through a ravaged world that will ultimately lead him 500 feet
upwards to a hilltop amusement park. Is it the last safe place on Earth, or are the
monsters at the top of the hill even worse than the ones below?

Welcome to Ripley Heights. Where the fun never starts.
RAVAGE
(Special Edition)

BY
Iain Rob Wright
Dedicated to my Father-in-Law, Roger. I miss you.

With thanks to:
Barton Glenn
Vix Kirkpatrick
Vince Early
Barbara Rochester
Barb Higgins
Paul Blanchfield
Caroline Doyle
Nicola Rees
Erimozqueda
Lee Nelson
Alison Coombes
Julie Nice
Andy Smith
Hotstuffsteph
Stephen Bryant
Faith Kauwe
(Sorry if I forgot anyone. IRW)
“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.
What can I do, though? Can’t force people to come to town and buy
overpriced gadgets that they don’t really need. Hell, even I can’t tell the
difference between the new iPhone and the last one.
This is bad, though. We need to get one more sale at least.
Slow days weren’t uncommon in Nick’s line of business, especially with a
recession in full swing, but this was one of the worst footfalls he could
remember. There was barely any point to being open, in fact. With the cost of
electricity and wages, the store would probably be losing money just by them
being there.
The store’s head salesman, Paul, strolled over to the laptop area and started
browsing the Internet. It was against company regulations to use the computers
for personal use but Nick wasn’t about to be a jobsworth just for the sake of it.
He was an easy-going manager at the best of times, and today there really was
nothing else for his staff to do.
He let out a sigh and looked over at Paul. “Check and see if something’s going
on today that we don’t know about. Find me an excuse to give the area manager.
An outbreak of plague would be ideal.”
“No problem, governor.” Paul typed away with his gold-ringed fingers.
Just then, Chelsea re-joined them, having finished her lunch in the back. She
looked at the empty shop floor and then over at Nick, before pulling a face.
“I know, I know” he said to her. “If it stays like this much longer, I’ll probably
send you home. No point the three of us being here.”
No point even one of us being here at this rate.
If it was up to him they all would have left already; he would’ve closed up shop
and called it a day. But Head Office didn’t allow him to make such judgement
calls. They paid him to be there ten hours a day and that’s exactly how long they
expected him to stay, whether there was any need for it or not. There was no
requirement for Paul and Chelsea to suffer, though.
I think they might slip into a coma if things get any more boring.
Oh, to hell with it. I can manage things here on my own for a couple of hours.
Nick was just about to tell both Paul and Chelsea to go home when, finally, a
customer entered the store.
“Hallelujah,” Nick said under his breath, before prodding a member of his staff
gently on the arm. “Go get him, Chels. We need to get a contract out of this guy
or I’m screwed on the conference call tonight.”
“No sweat,” said Chelsea, flicking her long blonde hair behind her back.
“Watch a sales-ninja at work.”
She swaggered over to the customer, her trademark fake smile switched on full
beam. The customer didn’t seem to notice her approach, though. He slumped
up against the central display where the live demo-phones were lined up on
painted-steel pedestals. The man hunched over a Nokia smartphone so closely
that he was probably smelling the lithium in the battery.
Great, Nick thought to himself. Our first customer in hours is a pisshead.
Nick decided to shadow Chelsea, just in case she got into problems. The girl
had a short fuse with difficult customers, and a drunk would certainly qualify as
a potential trigger for her teenaged temper.
“Are you okay there, sir?” Chelsea asked the man.
He remained hunched over, almost like he didn’t even hear her.
“I said, are you okay there, mate?” Chelsea was already beginning to look
irritable, and her tone had changed. She turned to Nick and shook her head.
Nick eased her aside with his hand and stepped up beside the customer. It was
best for a manager to deal with anyone who was going to be a problem.
Sales people should be free to sell. Managers should be free to deal with all
the headaches.
“Sir, are you okay?” he asked politely. “I’m afraid you can’t sleep it off here.”
Still no response from the hunched-over man.
Nick reached out a hand. He was quickly getting impatient. “Sir, I’m sorry,
but you’ll have to go someplace else.”
The man shot upright like an uncoiling spring. He turned to Nick with swollen,
bloodshot eyes. A thin strand of saliva hung pendulously from his lower lip,
ready to make a break for the floor at any moment. The man’s entire expression
was vacant and faraway.
Yikes!
Nick took a step backwards, his stomach flipping over like a wet pancake.
“What the heck is wrong with you, man?”