Savage: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel (12 page)

“This is about you rigging a bomb in the
Kirkland
’s
engine room.  Over three-hundred people would have died if you’d set the
bloody thing off – not to mention the danger it would have posed to the
rest of the fleet.”

The cripple grunted and edged closer on his crutches. 
In the moonlight of the pier, his copper hair looked silver, as if the night
itself were an alchemist.  His ripped t-shirt was heavily bloodstained,
but it was obvious his wound was healing.  He wouldn’t have been on his
feet if it were not.  “You’re absolutely right,” he said.  “I did try
to bomb the
Kirkland
, but not to kill innocent people.  There’s
just one man I mean to kill.”

Damien pointed his sword out to sea, over towards
where he imagined the
Kirkland
to be positioned in the darkness. 
“The captain.  Samuel.”

“Yes, Samuel Raymeady, former CEO of Black Remedy
Corporation. 
Former billionaire and all-around badass
dude.
  I hear
Time
magazine were about to do a cover on him
just before everyone went all
Night of the Living Dead.
  A shame,
really.”

Anna’s eyes went wide.  “Samuel Raymeady? 
You mean the richest man in the world is in charge of all the boats out there?”

“Makes sense,” said Alistair.  “The richest man
in the world probably had a better chance of surviving than anybody else bloody
well did,
huh
.”

Damien growled.  “It makes no difference who the
captain is or used to be.  He’s the reason all those people out there are
alive right now – him and the money he put to good use when it
mattered.  He’s a hero and you tried to kill him, along with a bunch of
innocent people.”

“So it’s true?” Anna asked the cripple.  “You did
try to blow up the ship?”

“I did, yes, although I failed quite epically.  I
have no idea how they discovered my plan.”

“Then I can’t protect you,” she said.  “You’re
guilty.”

Damien lowered his weapon and turned to
Fox
.  “Thank Christ for that.  We can finally get
the hell out of here.  Fox, go and grab him.  I want to get off this
pier before anything else goes wrong.”

“What about Birch?  Should we bring him back with
us?”

Damien shook his head.  “I’m sure our friends
here will do the honour of tossing him in the sea.  Best place for him.”

“But he was one of us.  We should-”

“He was a bloody moron, and the reason this situation
went so far south.  Long as we get the cripple back, that’s all that
matters.  Samuel won’t care about the rest.”

The cripple tutted.
  “I do wish you’d stop calling me that.  My name is Tim, not
‘cripple’.  I’ll go with you willingly,” he said, struggling with his
crutches.  “But just let me share a little secret before you take me off
to be executed.”

Damien took a step forward and raised his sword. 
“You’ve got nothing I want to hear.  I’ve already killed one man tonight.
 Don’t make me finish what I started with you several days ago.”

“I think you should hear him out,” said the African
man.

“Do you know something, Rene?” Anna asked.  “Is
that why you hid him?”

“Yes, he tells an interesting tale.”

Anna nodded.  “Then I want to hear what he has to
say.”

Damien shook his head and grunted.  “I’m not
interested in stories.  If you don’t come with me now, you’re going to get
these people killed.”

“Then you should let him speak quickly,” said
Anna.  “The night has been long enough already.  What are a few more
minutes going to hurt?”

Damien shrugged.  “Fine.  Speak.  Then
you’re coming with me.”

The cripple propped himself up tall on his crutches so
that everyone could see him clearly.  When he spoke he spoke slowly, as if
he did not want a single word to be misheard.  “The man in charge of that
Royal Navy frigate is Samuel Raymeady, former CEO of the UK-American
conglomerate, Black Remedy Corporation.  As its majority shareholder, he
gained control of the organisation after the death of his biological father and
mother, their American partner, Vincent Black, and all of that man’s heirs as
well – their collective demise is not a coincidence, I assure you. 
Since taking over the company, Samuel Raymeady has had one intention –
controlling the world, and then destroying it.  With all his wealth,
power, and numerous philanthropic facades, he made the world love him, which
allowed him to succeed with his life’s work.  That work is clear for all
to see.  He brought it all down on us.  He caused the apocalypse,
just to prove he could.  I imagine it’s the ultimate power trip for a man
that has already risen as far as any man can go.  With unlimited wealth,
power, and respect, what else is there but to become a god?” 

Everyone stood in shocked silence.  Damien shook
his head in disbelief. 
These people are buying it.  I’ve never
heard such a load of bollocks in my life.

The cripple pointed to Damien.  “This man here
was the man who shot me, and he claims that Samuel Raymeady saved all of those
people out there on the sea, but that’s not the truth.  The truth is that
Samuel Raymeady killed all but a few of us.  The virus that took
everything, the ungodly bio-weapon that wiped out 99% of the world’s
population, was his sole creation.  He made it, he released it, and he is
responsible.  Samuel Raymeady is the Devil, and from the ashes of the
world he hopes to become a god.  Those boats out there are his nation, and
with them he hopes to build an empire.  An empire of the damned.”

Damien gripped his sword tightly and waved his spear
arm through the air in a furious slash.  “The world has ended, you
muppet.  We’ve lost doctors, scientists, Olympic athletes, inventors, and
yet despite all that, we’re still stuck with deluded maniacs trying to blow
people up because of misplaced blame.  It’s ironic, that even now the
world has been crushed to dust, there are still madmen combing over the rubble
and trying to find a crusade to kill people for.”

The cripple wobbled on his crutches and suddenly
seemed to weaken.  His wound was obviously still taking a heavy toll on
him.  “Perhaps I am a little nutty – I certainly wonder about my
state of mind after all I’ve seen – but I promise you that I didn’t
imagine Samuel Raymeady breaking my back when he was an eight year old boy.
 Not that anyone ever believed he was guilty – angel-faced little
monster that he was.  There were, of course, a few other true believers
that joined my cause over time.  Monopoly commissioners ignored at every
turn, victims of Samuel’s aggressive corporate expansion tactics, competitors
who stood in his way and were crushed, and even a group of priests who believed
him to be the antichrist.  We all tried to expose Samuel’s true
intentions, but each of us was dismissed as hacks or paranoid fantasists. 
Samuel was too well loved and beyond reproach.  Any deep digging into his
affairs would be blocked at every turn.  He controlled everything.”

Anna put her hands up and rubbed her face. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.  This is frying my head.  Are you saying that
Samuel Raymeady, the world’s biggest philanthropist, tried to exterminate
mankind?”

“And broke your back?” Alistair added.

Anna cleared her throat.  “Yeah, and that.”

Tim nodded.  “Pushed me from the balcony of his
home – but that’s a jaunty little caper to be told some other time. 
That was when I first met Samuel Raymeady.  I’ve been keeping tabs on him
ever since: hacking his computers, researching his financial activities,
generally spying on him in whichever ways I could.  I managed to gain a
little traction on the Internet, and even got a few column inches in the paper,
but Samuel wielded too much power – most of the press were in his pocket
along with most politicians.  It was impossible to stop what he was
planning.  I was helpless to do anything as he loaded a cruise liner full
of deadly virus and sent it sailing for mainland Europe with a crew of doomed
souls.  I tried to leak his plans, and so did my colleagues, but the
newspapers, the authorities, Samuel’s competitors, didn’t want to hear
it.  They dismissed me as a crank.  Bet they wished they’d listened
to me when the infection finally hit.  That cruise liner was Samuel’s
Trojan horse and the whole world was his Troy.”

Anna frowned.  “Are you talking about the cruise
liner that sank in the Med over a year ago?  How could it have released a
virus in Europe if it sunk?”

“Rescue workers contracted the virus from the wreckage
and took it with them inland.  It was all over then.”

Damien stabbed the point of his sword against the deck
with a
thud!
  “What an absolute crock.  This is all just a
load of nonsense you read in an airport thriller novel.”  He turned to the
members of the pier.  “This lunatic isn’t worth your lives.  Hand him
over.”

“If I’m such lunatic, then why did I have help rigging
the bomb on the
Kirkland
?”  He grinned at Damien mockingly. 
“That’s why your glorious dictator wants me dead so badly.  He knows
someone else aboard the
Kirkland
is working against him, but he also
knows that I will never give up the name of my co-conspirator.  But my
death will serve to send a clear message to my partner not to try anything
again.  It would also stop me telling my story to the people on his
precious ship.  Last thing he wants is a mutiny.  Don’t you think
it’s strange that he sent you ashore to kill me several days ago, Roman? 
Why not bring me in to answer for my crimes?  I’m only a poor cripple
after all.”

“I’m bringing you in now,” said Damien.

“Only because Samuel doesn’t want the people on this
pier to see his mercilessness.  They may yet be of use to him; there’s no
point scaring them unduly.”  He looked down at Birch, face down on the
deck.  “Although, I think you might have
ballsed
that up already, though.  Nice going, hero.”

Damien was out of words.  Was the reason Samuel
was so adamant that Tim be killed that he did not wish the man to share his
wild conspiracy theories?  Was he so afraid of this man’s insane
ramblings?  Who would believe such a far-fetched tale anyway?  And
what about the man’s co-conspirator?  “Tell me who your partner is,”
Damien demanded, “or so help me I’ll cut you down right now and your new
buddies will have to sweep you off the deck.”

Tim looked amused by what he was about to say, like a
Barrister ready to present a killer piece of evidence in some grand
courtroom.  “Of course, I’ll tell you,” he said.  “It’s somebody you
know, Roman – a good friend of yours, in fact. As I understand it, he’s
the
only
friend you have.  Which, might I just say, is pretty sad.
”

No.... 
Damien
swallowed.  “Harry?”

“Yes,” Tim said.  There was a belittling smirk on
his bony, unshaven face.  “Harry and I were working together.  When
he heard my story, he was more than willing to help.  He’s a good man, but
you already know that, right?  He pretty much brought you up, or so he
told me?  So, Roman, tell me, do you still want to take me back to the
Kirkland
? 
What if Samuel breaks me?  What will become of your only friend then?”

“You lie!”

“Speak to him, Roman – or should I call you
Damien
.”

He knows my name.  Only Harry knows my
name. 
Damien felt faint.  If Samuel found out that
Harry was conspiring he would kill him. 
Is it even the truth?  Or
just the cripple’s veiled threat?
 
If I take him aboard, will he
insinuate that Harry is a terrorist?  Is that his play here?  Is he
using Harry as leverage?

Could Harry be a terrorist?

No way.  I know Harry.  He would never hurt
anybody.  He helped me when nobody else would.  We survived the
apocalypse together….  He would never keep something like this from
me….  No, he would have told me. 
Damien
stumbled backwards towards the railing.  He suddenly felt very weak. 
“Come on, Fox,” he said, sheathing his sword.  “We’re leaving.  These
muppets deserve whatever they get.”

“You want to leave without
him
?” asked Fox,
nodding towards the cripple.  The man was such a worrier, and Damien had
no time for it right now.

“Yes,
without
him.”

“But he said he’d come voluntarily.”

Damien shrugged and swung a leg over the
railing.  “Ask him to come then.”

Fox turned around and faced the cripple.  “Will
you come with us?”

Tim chuckled.  “I changed my mind.  I’d
quite like to stay here if my hosts will have me.”

“You’re very welcome,” said Anna.

“But you gave your word,” said Fox, flummoxed.

 “I’m a terrorist, remember?  I have no
honour.  My word counts for shit.”

Damien snorted.  “There’s your answer, Fox. 
I’m not about to start a fight that’s ten to two against us.  If you want
to stay behind and scrap, then go for it, but I’m going back to the
Kirkland
. 
Samuel can deal with this shit later.”  The rope down to the yacht was
still attached and Damien started to descend it, but the woman, Anna, stopped
him.  For a moment he expected to be attacked.