Savage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel (25 page)

Price sighed and took pity on the younger man. 
He glanced down at the carrot-top, lying on the floor where three bullets had
struck his chest.  “Barker, lower your weapon,” he said.  “Nobody
else has to die today.”

Barker did as he was told and Price lowered his weapon
too.  He re-holstered the 9mm behind his back and knelt down beside
Garfield.   The guy they called Lemon did the same.  “Is he
going to be okay, sir?”

 
Price sighed. 
Sir? 
This guy likes to obey. 
“No, he’s not going to be okay.  He just
took two slugs in the chest.  And don’t call me ‘sir’, I work for a
living.” He cleared his throat.  “I’m sorry for your loss.  He seemed
like the only one of you with any sense.”

There was silence amongst the group and Price crossed
the dead man’s arms across his chest and repositioned his head.  It was
the least he could do.

It scared the shit out of him when the man started to
cough and splutter.  “Jesus Christ, you’re alive.”

The man was out of breath, gasping and struggling, but
he had the strength of an ox and Price could do nothing as he forced himself
into a sitting position.  He continued coughing for a good few minutes,
but when he was done, he grasped at the buttons on his shirt and tore them
loose.  His shirt fluttered open and Price was surprised to see that
neither slug had managed to enter the man’s chest.  Three hunks of lead
were lodged into a thick barrier of what looked like history magazines. 
The man had wrapped them around his torso like armour.  It was a novel
idea, but probably wouldn’t have worked against a modern calibre bullet. 
Luckily, the dingo had fired two ancient lead rounds from an antique
pistol.  The magazines had been enough to save his life.

Price helped the man to his feet.  “You okay,
buddy?  It’s Garfield, right?”

The man nodded, clutching his chest.  Even though
the bullets hadn’t penetrated, the force of the blow would still have been like
standing in the way of a bull.  “I…yeah, I’m fine.  I’m…I’m sorry all
this happened.”

Price sighed.  “Well, if anything, it showed me
that not everyone is out to murder and rape.  If I thought you were the
one in charge, I would let you leave here with everything you ask for.”

“He is in charge,” said Lemon.  “He’s always been
in charge.”

Price looked at Kirk.  The younger man was
trembling.  “That true, lad?  I thought you were the head honcho of
this outfit?”

Kirk shook his head.  “N-no.  Garfield has
always been in charge.  I only took over yesterday because…”

“Because you all got charmed by the dingo and stopped
following orders.  You know what happens to deserters in the Army, lad?”

Kirk looked ashamed.  He turned around and walked
away.

In the distance there was moaning.  “The dead are
coming,” said Price, sighing.  “The gunfire has attracted them.”

“We need to get that hole in the fence filled in,”
said Garfield.

Price waved his hand.  “You people need to get
out of here or else you’ll never get the chance.  The dead will surround
the entire base before long.  We’ve only survived this long by keeping
quiet.”

Garfield opened his mouth and closed it again. 
“I...I’m sorry.  This was your home and we’ve endangered it.”

“Just get out of here,” said Price.  There was no
point making apologies that fixed nothing.

There was a rumbling of an engine.  Price looked
over to see that Kirk had jumped up into one of the trucks and started the engine.
 Two other men had run off after him and jumped into the rear bed of the
truck.

Garfield shouted.  “Kirk, what the hell are you
doing?  Lenny, Luke….  Stop right now.”  Kirk disobeyed him and
ground the gears into first.  The truck began to move.  It headed for
the chain link fence, picking up speed.  Price ripped a grenade from his
utility vest and went to pull out the pin.  Garfield grabbed his
wrist.  “Please, don’t.  He’s a stupid kid, more scared than I
realised.  This is my fault.  I lost control of the group. 
People panic when there’s no leader.  He’s a good person, and so are Lenny
and Luke.  Let them go, please.”

Price stared at the other man and shrugged.  He
placed the grenade back in his belt.  “Your call.  Would only attract
more dead anyway.”

Kirk sped up and the truck roared.  It’s huge
weight rushed forward.  The front of the vehicle smashed into the chain
link fence and dragged it along.  It folded beneath the truck’s giant
wheels and slapped into the dirt.  As the truck took off at full speed, a
length of fence twenty metres long went with it.

The dead moaned in the distance, but were already
closer.

Price grunted.  “There goes the
neighbourhood.  Get out of here before the dead give you no choice.”

“Come with us,” said Garfield.  “We took away
your safety, but we have a camp at a pier on the south coast.  It’s safe
there and we all look after one another.”

It felt like charity, but Price knew that staying at
the barracks was a death wish.  He had to move on; the only question was
whether or not to go with Garfield and his men.  He glanced at
Barker.  Barker shrugged.  “Fine.  Let’s just get the fuck out
of here and quick.  What’s the quickest way to your camp?”

“The motorway would take less than a day,” said
Garfield, “But
it’s
choc-a-block with cars and
zombies.”

Price scratched his jutting chin and smiled.  “I
may have just the thing.” 

When he showed Garfield what he had hidden at the back
of the camp beneath a large green tarp, the man began to bellow with laughter.
 “I guess we’re taking the motorway, then,” he said.  “Anna is never
going to believe this.”

F
rank was outside taking a breath
when he saw the small yacht approaching from the distance.  Night had
fallen but an interior lamp lit up the small vessel.  The lamp’s glow was
puny compared to the fires of the night before.

The
Kirkland’s
aft deck was bustling, as it
usually was in the evenings.  Men played cards and flirted with the
handful of women on board, sharing their alcohol rations like there was no
tomorrow.  The fireworks show at the pier had made everyone rowdy. 

The supply of booze to the crewmen of the
Kirkland
had been lowered recently after a rash of drunken behaviour that stretched all
the way from bad language to rape.  The men and women aboard the frigate
were tired, weary, and had left their souls back on land.  There was a
constant air of aggression and fear that made people paranoid and selfish after
a while.  Frank often wondered where the future would take them all. 
Could they go on like this perpetually?  Or was something bound to
give?  The grey, salt-stained decks of the frigate could not sustain them
forever, he thought.

The little yacht got closer and Frank saw that they
were waving a white flag. Frank saw a dark-skinned man and a stout woman. 
He recognised neither, but when he saw the third man his eyes went wide. 
Leaning over the bow on a pair of crutches was Tim Golding – the man
Samuel referred to as the ‘cripple’ and the man who had tried to obliterate the
fleet’s flagship.

Frank hurried over to the rigging set up along the
Kirkland
’s
starboard side and removed the guard stationed there.  He would receive
these guests himself.

The woman attached the yacht to the rigging and
secured the vessel.  She then took Tim by the arm and helped him up on to
the thick rope latticework.  The cripple climbed up the centre with the
man and woman helping him on either side.  The progress was slow,
laborious, but they gradually made their way towards the deck above. 
Frank waited to seize them the moment they stepped foot aboard.

The woman reached the gunwale first and shoved a pair
of crutches into Frank’s unsuspecting arms.  “Here, mate, hold these, will
you?”

Frank spluttered but did as he was asked.  The
three visitors managed to tumble over the gunwale and onto the deck.  Tim
asked for his crutches back and Frank handed them over begrudgingly. 
“Excuse me,” he eventually said.  “Might you state your business?”

The woman looked at him.  “My name is Anna. 
This is my colleague, Rene.  And this man, I’m sure you know, is Tim.”

Frank snorted.  “Yes, I know a terrorist when I
see one.”

“Actually,” said Tim.  “I’m more of an attempted
terrorist.  I never actually got to blow anything up.  More’s the
pity.”

“Why have you come here?  You’re a wanted man.”

“That’s
why
I’m here.  I’m giving myself
up before any more innocent people are hurt.”

“Your captain killed a nine-year-old girl,” said
Anna.  “So we surrender, okay?  You’re all big men with great big
dicks and we’re afraid of you.  We’re here to bend our knee to your king.”

“Samuel is not our king,” said Frank firmly, but he
couldn’t help but think about the nine-year-old girl.  “He is our
captain.”

“Some might say that a captain is a king aboard his
own boat.  Certainly seems like he has the power to do whatever he wants.”

Frank said nothing.  Samuel would be pleased that
the cripple had given himself up.  He hoped his son would show kindness to
the surviving members of the pier and leave them alone.  They were no
longer defying him, so perhaps they could be forgiven.

People on the aft deck spotted the newcomers and
started to point and mutter.  “Come with me,” said Frank.  He turned
to Tim.  “People want your head, so best we don’t dawdle.  I’ll take
you to Samuel immediately.”

As Frank ushered the three guests into the ship’s
interior, he ignored the many angry glares of the crewmen.  If Samuel did
anything other than execute Tim, there would be outright mutiny.  The men
and women on the
Kirkland
were bored and lost.  When they were
given a villain to collectively hate, they did so with gusto.  Tim could
have been guilty of no more than killing a spider and the inhabitants of the
frigate would still want his blood.  Frank couldn’t help but sigh with
relief when they reached the captain’s chambers.  He was less happy to
find petty officer Dunn standing guard at the door.

“Wow, Frank, where did you find these three?  The
very man that Samuel is looking for and you bring him right to his
chambers.  Not bad.”

Frank nodded.  “They have come to surrender, and
you would do well to refer to Samuel as ‘captain.’”

“Of course.  Shall I tell him you’re here?”

Frank shoved the man aside.  “I don’t need you to
announce me.  Samuel is my son.”  He took the guests inside and was
aggravated when Dunn followed. 

Samuel stood up immediately when he saw Tim. 
“You!” he said in a tone that could have crumbled concrete.

Tim hobbled forward on his crutches.  “I heard
you were looking for me.  What seems to be the trouble?”

Samuel smashed his fist down on the table.  “You
know the trouble.  You tried to kill me.”

“Oh, that.  Yeah.  I don’t suppose you’d be
willing to let bygones be bygones, would you?  I did fail after all.”

Samuel snarled.

Frank introduced the man and woman.  “Samuel,
this is Anna and Rene from the pier.  They have surrendered Tim in order
to secure a truce.”

“Nice to be here,” said Tim.  “I’ve missed your
smile captain.”

Samuel turned his frown into a predatory smirk and
examined the woman standing before him.  “She’d like to secure a truce,
would she?”

“Yes,
she
would,” said the woman irritably.

Samuel laughed.  “You seem bitter, miss. 
Does friendship not taste sweet to you?  Would you prefer enmity?”

“I would prefer that you hadn’t killed a bunch of
innocent people, but that’s the past now.  I’m only hoping to protect
those of us still left.  We want no part in your quarrel with this
man. 
You wanted him
,
you got
him
.  Now leave the pier in peace.”

“I won’t fight you,” said Tim.  “I’ll admit to
what I did.  Just leave these people alone.  They’ve done nothing.”

Frank caught Samuel’s eye and nodded.  There was
no reason to take issue with the people on the pier.  They had suffered
enough for helping the cripple.  Now that they had handed him over there
was no harm done.

“I disagree,” said Samuel.  He looked down at his
desk and shook his head slowly.  His hands clenched into fists. 
“What would my people think of me if I allowed our enemies mercy?  They
would become frightened and weak.  They must know that I will protect them
from any threat.  The people on this pier harboured a terrorist, a man who
sought to end me.  What is to say they will not hatch some future plot
against us?”

“We will not,” said Rene.  The man had a Nigerian
accent and a peculiar way of talking, almost like his words were precious and
he used them only sparingly.  “We want only peace.”

Samuel eyeballed the man like he was some strange
species.  “You’re a long way from home.  Nigerian?”

The man blinked.  “The pier is my home.”

“I understand.  The
Kirkland
is my
home.  The man standing beside you tried to blow it up.  Should I
just ignore that?”

“Yes.  As we will ignore that you blew up our
home.  You are guilty of a crime this man only
tried
to
commit.  You are a bad man, which is why we are here to beg for
peace.  Take your boats and go.”

“Do not demand anything of me,” shouted Samuel. 
He glanced at Dunn.  “Lieutenant Dunn, these people are now prisoners of
the fleet.  Lock them up until I decide sentencing.”

Dunn smiled and nodded.  “Yes, Captain.”

Frank balked.  Not only had Samuel promoted a
wretch like Dunn to Lieutenant, he had also imprisoned two people seeking
mercy.  “Samuel, I would plead you to think about this.  A show of
mercy can be as powerful as a punishment.  We hit the pier and caused them
heavy casualties.  There is nothing to be gained by further action.”

“Please, sir,” said Rene.  “We are just ordinary
people.  We do not wish to fight you.”

“You’ll have no choice,” said Dunn.  “You’re
going to be in a cell.”

“Are you so afraid of rumours and stories that you
would punish innocent people?” Anna, spat.

Samuel glared at her.  “I have no idea what you
mean.  You are my enemy.  That is all.”

Anna smirked.  “No, it’s more than that. 
You don’t want the men and women of your precious fleet to find out that you
caused the apocalypse.  You’re the devil.”

Samuel growled like a wolf.  He marched around
the side of his desk and backhanded her.  She fell backwards but Dunn caught
her in his arms, making sure to get a good grope of her breasts as he did so.

Like the jaws of a snapping alligator, Rene grabbed
Samuel around the neck and got behind him.  The chokehold was so tight
that Samuel’s pale face immediately went purple.  He reached out to Frank
and pleaded.  Frank took a step forward to help, but Dunn beat him to it. 
The officer leapt forward and smashed Rene in the back of his skull with the
grip of a rigging knife he pulled from his belt.  Samuel broke free of the
chokehold, gasping, and Rene fell to his knees in a daze.

Samuel caught his breath and pointed to the man who
had just tried to kill him.  “Kill him!”

“No,” screamed Anna.  Suddenly she produced a
screwdriver that had been tucked up her sleeve.  Frank cursed himself for
not having patted her down.  He dove in front of Samuel and managed to get
his arm in the way.  The tip of the screwdriver buried itself in his
forearm and made him yell out, but it didn’t stop him from using his elbow to
smash the woman in the eye socket.  She slumped to the floor, the fight
taken completely out of her.  The cripple raised one of his crutches as if
to join the melee, but a stern look from Frank was enough to put that idea to
bed.

Samuel leant back against his desk, panting.  He
pointed at Rene again.  “I said kill him.  Kill him now!”

Anna crawled along the floor and let out a scream as
Dunn stood over the man and quickly slit his neck open from ear to ear.

Samuel was grinning.  “Now take the other two
away.  I’ll deal with them later.”

Anna screamed all the way as Dunn dragged her out of
the room and towards the brig.  Frank stood there in shock, wondering how
much longer he could convince himself that Samuel was a good man.  Rene’s
blood spread out beneath him in a bright red puddle.

“Oh, and Frank?” said Samuel.

“Yes, Samuel?”

“If you ever disobey my orders again, it will be you
bleeding on the floors of my chambers.  And I would have you call me
‘captain’ or ‘sir’ from now on.  Do you understand?”

Frank nodded.  “Yes…
sir
.” 

“I didn’t come this far just to be undermined by the
man who raised me.  Years of planning have gone into this and I cannot
afford to let anything in my way.”

Frank cleared his throat, but found a lump stuck
there.  “Years of planning?  What do you mean?”

Samuel smirked and shook his head.  “I think you
know what I mean, Frank.  Now, leave my sight.”

Frank slunk away with tears in his eyes, trying to
process what he had just heard. 
Years of planning
… 

My son is a monster.

But he is still my son. 
Although
now I must call him ‘sir’.