Savage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel (32 page)

T
he bar was busy tonight.  One
thing a recession didn’t change was people’s desire to get
shitfaced
and
wake up the following morning with some sweaty mistake in their bed.  It
was Saturday night and the beer and spirits were flowing at the
Cross &
Chapel
.

“Double-vodka
Red Bull
, please,
darlin
’.”

Steph smiled.  “Coming right up,” she said to the
man on the other side of the bar.  She pumped the vodka from a wall optic
and mixed the drink on the bar. 

The man took it, thanked and paid her.  “Busy
night tonight, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Steph.  “People still like to have a
good time.”

The man wiggled a black eyebrow.  “Do you like to
have a good time, sweetheart?”

Oh brother…. 
Steph
eyed the man up.  He was handsome enough, with dark eyes and short black
hair, but he was also drunk and leering at her a little
un-gentlemanly-like.  “Sorry, mate.  Your princess is in another
castle.”

That just seemed to arouse the guy more.  “You
seem like the princess I’m looking for to me.”

“I’m not.”  Steph turned away from the drunken
man and tried to serve another patron who’d approached the bar, but he reached
out and grabbed her wrist.  “Hey, I’m not done talking with you.”

Steph considered calling Mike, the bouncer, but she
didn’t want to give this douchebag the satisfaction.  Instead, she
shrugged free of the man’s grasp, leaned across the bar and stared him in the
eye.  She was no man’s victim.  “Touch me again and you’ll go home
wearing a stool.”

The man moved his hand away and laughed.  He was
shocked but undeterred.  He wiggled his eyebrows.  “You’re a cheeky
girl.”

“I think you should leave the lady alone,” said
another man standing at the bar.  The guy was average height, smaller than
the drunken man, but was heavier set and a few years older.

The drunken douchebag glared at the other man. 
“Who the fuck asked you to get involved?”

The other man just smiled.  There was a calmness
about him that bordered on charm.  He had pale blue eyes, which shimmered
beneath the bar’s strobe lights.  “Chivalry asked me to get involved,” he
said.  “I can’t stand idly by while some Neanderthal hits on a pretty
girl.”

He thinks I’m pretty
,
thought Steph. 

The drunken man took his double vodka and downed it in
one, before slamming the low baller back on the bar.  He wiped his mouth
with the back of his shirt cuff and stepped away from the bar.  “You
wanna
take it outside, buddy?”

The smaller man rolled his eyes.  “No, because
then I would have to pay the cover charge to get back in again.  Seems
silly to me.”

“You’re a pussy.  You know I’d kick your arse.”

“Yes, I am quite sure you could beat me up quite
easily.  You’re a tough guy and you frighten me.  I wish I had the
guts to fight you, but I don’t, so perhaps you should go and find someone who
is brave enough.  I’m sure you can find a nice big man to get all sweaty
with in here.”

Stephen sniggered under her breath.

The man was too drunk to notice the veiled
mockery.  He snickered and shook his head.  “Pussy.  I catch you
outside, you’re dead.”  He walked away.

“Look forward to it,” the other man muttered.

“Sorry about that,” said Steph, putting away the low
baller glass that had been left on the bar.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.  Just because you
work behind a bar doesn’t mean you should have to put up with idiots like
that.”

“Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.  My name’s
Steph.”

The man offered his hand.  “Bryan.  Pleased
to meet you, Steph.”

“Likewise.”

“Can I get
sh-sh
…
shum
shervis
here, p-please,”
slurred a blonde woman from the end of the bar.  “S-s-stop chatting up
the…the men and
ssserve
your
cushtumas
.”

Steph nodded at the woman and smiled.  “Of
course, what can I get you,
hun
?”  The woman
ordered a rum and coke and tottered away like she’d won a prize once she had
it.  Steph turned back around to resume her conversation with Bryan, but
found he had gone. 
Huh, guess he wasn’t that interested after all.

Steph never had much luck with men.  Once things
looked like they might work out with a guy named Harry.  She met him at a
pub she worked at called
The Trumpet
, but he had developed a brain
tumour and moved to South Africa to get experimental treatment.  Harry
pledged his love to her, but said he couldn’t commit to her until he was well
again.  He didn’t want to burden her with his illness.  In her heart
Steph still loved Harry, but they’d been apart so long now that she doubted
they’d ever be more than friends across the phone.  Recently she’d started
to consider the possibility of dating someone new.  The only problem was
that the guys she met at work were all drunken wankers. 
Bryan seemed
nice, though.
   

Mike, the bald-headed bouncer, stomped over to the bar
and gave her his best look of concern.  “Looked like you were having some
bother.  Everything okay?”

Steph nodded.  “Just another letch.  Nothing
I couldn’t handle.”

“If you spot the guy, point him out and I’ll keep my
eye on him.”

“Thanks, Mike.”

Cassie, one of the other barmaids, returned from her
fag break and began serving.  Steph took the opportunity to do a quick
glass collection.  The pub was large, halfway between a club and a lounge,
but management kept a small staff.  Everyone chipped in, doing whatever
jobs needed to be done.

On the far side of the dance floor was a hen
party.  The dozen ladies were bedraggled and partied-out.  With each
of them attired in slutty nurse uniforms, it was hard to tell who was the
bride.  Steph assumed it was the portly lady wearing a dildo hat. 
Jesus,
thought Steph. 
Remind me never to get married.

Not a single one of the women were sober.  They
were all semi-conscious and moaning.  Steph began collecting their
champagne flutes, but was forced to
side-step
quickly
to avoid one woman vomiting. 
Fabulous.  I guess I get to clean
that up later. 
“Hey,” Steph said.  “Do you girls want me to call
a taxi?”

The woman who’d vomited lay sideways on the bench and
moaned.  “I’m…I’m not feeling well.”

“You’ve had too much to drink, sweetheart.  You
should get yourself home and into bed.”

The woman heaved again, but managed to refrain from
puking further.  “I…no….”

Steph placed the flutes down and put her hand on the
woman’s shoulder.  Her skin was flaming hot.  “You’re just
drunk.  Too much partying is bad for you.”

The woman shook her head weakly.  “I…haven’t
drunk.”

Steph frowned, looked at all of the champagne flutes
and empty bottles.  “Looks like you’ve drunk enough to down a horse to
me.”

“No.  I…I don’t drink.  I have
diabetes.  The other girls drank, but not…not…
meeeeeurgh
!” 
The woman lurched forward and puked again.  Steph was horrified to see
that the puke was made up mostly of blood and mucus.  She took a step back
and placed her hand over her mouth.  All of the women were more than just
drunk, they were ill.  Each of them had bulging, bloodshot eyes and
were
covered in their own bloody vomit.  They were
sprawled out and unconscious. 

Steph spun around and searched for Mike in the crowd,
but from where she was standing, it was impossible to see him across the
crowded dance floor.  Suddenly the music seemed way too loud and she
couldn’t think.  
I need to get help.

The last person she wanted to see was the drunken
letch.  He bumped up behind her and placed his hand around her
waist.  When she spun around she was face to face with him again. 
“Hey, baby.  I was hoping to bump into you.”

Steph shoved him away but he held onto her with both
arms.  “Let go of me,” she demanded.

“Not until you give me a kiss.”  The man closed
his eyes and puckered up.

“Let go of me!”

The man ignored her.  He pulled her closer, so
tightly that she could smell the sweat beneath his cheap aftershave. 
“Come on, just one little kiss.”

“Let go of her!”

Steph craned her neck to see that Bryan had come to
her aid once again.  The drunken man let go of her and turned
around.  He snarled at Bryan and raised his fists.  “That’s it,
you’re going down.”  He shoved Steph aside and threw a punch.

Bryan slinked aside and put his foot out.  The
drunken man went stumbling over it and ended up falling on top of the portly
bride.  Her dildo hat poked him in the eye.  She remained
unconscious.

Bryan placed his hand on Steph’s shoulder.  “Are
you okay?”

Steph shook her head.  “We need to call an
ambulance.  These women are really sick.”

Bryan stared down at the ladies, all passed-out in a
row.  “Aren’t they just drunk?”

“No,” said Steph.  “Look.”

Bryan looked harder and saw what she had seen. 
He plucked out his mobile phone and dialled 999 immediately.

The drunken man was struggling to get up.  His
insobriety had left him like a turtle on his back.  He managed to hook a
leg under the table and lever himself up into a sitting position, but remained
sitting on top of the unconscious bride. “I’m going to knock you the fuck out,”
he growled.  “You hear me?”

Bryan was staring at his phone and shaking his head.

“What is it?” Steph asked him.

“No signal.  I….”

“You and me are going outside,” the drunken man
shouted at them over the music.  Steph and Bryan both turned to face him,
but were taken by surprise.  The portly bride woke up suddenly.  Her
eyes snapped open and bulged from their sockets.  Her chubby arms clamped
around the drunken man on her lap and held him there.  “What the
fuck!”  He tried to get away, but the bride clung to him.  Her arms
were twice as thick as his.  “Get this fat bitch off of me,” he yelled.

But before Steph and Bryan could help, the bride
opened her mouth wide and let out an ear piercing shriek so loud that even the
loud music seemed to fade away. 

Steph held her ears and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the bride had bitten down
on the drunken man’s neck.  Her teeth sank into his flesh like he was made
out of fried chicken.

The drunken man bellowed in agony.  Suddenly his
eyes were alert and sober as agony shocked him back to his full senses. 
“Argh!  Get her off me.  Get her off me!”

The bride clamped down harder.  Blood began to
surge from the deep wound in his neck.  Sinew and veins tore away as the
woman’s jaws ripped and chewed.

“Holy shit!” said Bryan, no longer calm and
collected.  He lunged forward and grabbed a hold of the drunken man, tried
to pull him away, but the bride would not let go.  Bryan batted at her
face with his fists.  Eventually she released her jaws and the drunken man
fell to the floor, leaking blood everywhere.  The hole in his neck was the
size of an orange and the blood came out like thick satin paint.

Mike, the bouncer, rushed over from
the dance floor, having heard the commotion.
 
The bar’s drunken revellers had ceased their dancing and were all looking in
the direction of the hen party.  “What the hell is going on?” Mike
asked.  He glanced down at the bleeding man and then up at Bryan. 
“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.  It was
her
.”

Mike looked up just in time to see the plump bride
charging at him.  He caught the woman against his chest, but seemed more
confused than anything.  The woman thrashed and screeched in his muscly
arms.

“Get away from her,” Steph shouted.  “She’s not
well.”

“No shit,” said Mike.  He spun the woman around
and yanked her arms behind her back.  She hollered and snapped her
teeth.  Blood filled her mouth and spattered the floor.

What the hell is happening? 
Steph looked down to see that the drunken letch was dead, a large pool
of blood spread out beneath him. 

That was when the rest of the hen party got to their
feet.  They stood up as one, glaring and spitting like feral cats.

Bryan took a hold of Steph and edged her
backwards.  “I think we should get out of here.”

The bride in Mike’s arms spun around and buried her
face in his neck.  The large man screamed like a girl as she tore into his
windpipe and seized his vocal chords between her teeth.

The bar exploded with panic.  Fleeing bodies
overwhelmed the dance floor, shoving and trampling one another to get to the
exit.  The music screeched to a halt as the DJ leapt from his booth and
joined the panicked crowd.  All around, people shouted and screamed,
pushed and shoved, punch and kicked.  The ladies of the hen party sprinted
after the crowd, falling on top of people like tigers upon antelope.  They
brought down men twice their size and tore into them with their teeth and
nails.  Soon blood covered the dance floor and people began to slip and
tumble in the red stuff.  The bodies piled up three-deep and the hen party
ripped them all open to feed upon their insides.