Raven's Hell

Evernight
Publishing
®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©
2014
Jenika
Snow

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-139-4

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of
this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

When the
caterpillar thought it was the end of the world she turned into a butterfly.

—Anonymous

RAVEN’S HELL

Savages, 2

Jenika
Snow

Copyright ©
2014

Preface

A
flu vaccine was what collapsed civilization.

Something
as simple as an immunization was found to stop the spread of cancer. It had
been hailed worldwide as a magnificent accomplishment, one where the scientists
had thought they had come across something monumental. They had, but what they
brought to humans was a hell on earth. The ones who had gotten the vaccine
started exhibiting signs of cannibalism and necrosis right away. They became
far sicker than anyone could have imagined. Everyone thought they were safe if
they stayed away, waited out the sickness. They refused to take responsibility
for what they had done, what they had created. They had thought they were helping
people, curing something as devastating as cancer.

They
had been wrong.

Whatever
was in the flu shots had infected people, changing something inside of them and
making them crazed, thirsty for blood, and something that wasn’t considered
human any longer. It slowly killed them from the inside out, made their flesh
rot, every orifice bleed, and all logical reasoning vanish. And this was the
world they lived in now, tried to survive each and every day with obstacles
thrown against them. Starvation, death, rape, and being hunted by walking
corpses was the world now, and the ones standing needed to be the strongest,
and have no remorse in trying to survive.

Chapter One

New York City,
2013

The
music was loud, the room filled with smoke, and naked flesh gyrated in front of
him. Collin
Suthers
leaned back, brought the cigar to
his mouth, and inhaled deeply. The smoke billowed out around him when he
exhaled, and the sight before him had his dick hardening. There were two naked
women sitting in front of him, their hands on each other, their mouths fused
together, and the thought of them getting it on for his viewing pleasure a
guarantee in the very near future.

The
club he was currently in was one of many he owned in New York. This was his
empire, his world, and he controlled it any way he saw fit. He wasn’t a good
man, didn’t care about anything but what allowed him to grow as a King in every
way. He fucked any female he wanted, because they were there for the taking. He
killed without remorse when the time called for it, and he never looked back.
Never.
He did things to ensure he stayed on top, and because
of that he survived. He always survived, and always would.

Marco,
one of the men working for him stepped up to Collin, leaned down, and whispered
in his ear.

“Mr.
Suthers
, the shipment is here for your inspection.”

Collin
stood, smoothed his hands down his three-piece suit, and made his way to the
back room. The room was lit with harsh florescent lighting, but this space was
used to store the club supplies and conduct Collin’s less than legal business
deals. He moved away from the shelving and stopped at the stainless steel wall
that held bottles of stocked liquor. Collin gestured for Marco to proceed. He
crouched and pushed one of the boxes of bottled beer aside. Marco pressed the
hidden lever that had the wall opening up and revealing a small office. Collin
heard the side door open and saw two men coming forward with black briefcases
in their hands. Collin’s men patted them down for weapons once more, because although
they had been frisked before they were allowed in his club, he didn’t trust
anyone.

They
walked into the back room, and the wall shut behind them, sealing them in.
Collin had Marco and Peter standing guard, their guns visible if these two
junkie fuckers thought to try anything. If they were smart and knew Collin’s
reputation they would not, of course, but they were drug addicts so anything
was possible.

“Collin,
we have some primo shit here—”

“Just
shut up and put the fucking cases on the table.” Collin didn’t have time for
conversation. He didn’t give a shit what these assholes thought. “If the
product isn’t up to standards then the solution for bringing me less than
quality drugs is simple.” He stared at the two men, and although he didn’t
usually do business with junkies, their product was known to be top shelf shit.
He’d find out for himself.

The
men set the cases on the desk, opened them, and the product that was presented
could have given Collin a hard-on. “Sample it.” He pulled out his switchblade,
sliced the package of heroin with the blade, and held it up to one of the men.
The junkie was eager to try, and he moved forward and sniffed the white power
off of the stainless steel. After a few seconds of Collin waiting to see if the
fucker would drop dead, he had one of his men try the heroin. Marco took a hit
for himself, inhaled roughly, and then nodded.

“The
product is primo, Boss. The drip hits real good in the back of the throat.”

“You
have contacts in South America that hook you up with this product?” Collin
asked and shut the cases of heroin. When they didn’t answer right away, but
just looked at each other, Collin’s patience faded. “Answer the fucking
question. I have other business to attend to, and you’re wasting my time.”

“No
disrespect, Mr.
Suthers
. Um,” one of the men said.
“We know a guy that knows a guy that knows a guy in the Cartel. He can send us
small amounts at a time. This load took a month to get to us because of the
mules having to cross the border.”

Collin
would need to look into getting into contact with their wholesale distributor,
because the meth and coke he sold wasn’t enough. He had inventory to stock,
people to get high, and his empire was expanding. He nodded to Peter, who
grabbed the duffle from off the floor and tossed it to the junkies’ feet.

“That’s
the amount we discussed.” Collin stared at the two men, and when they didn’t
move right away his patience snapped. “Get the fuck out of here.”

They
grabbed the money and took off once the wall was opened again. Collin sat on
the edge of the desk, blew out a breath, and stared at Marco and Peter, his two
most loyal men that worked for him. “Let’s get laid and fucked up.” And then
the three of them headed back out to the club to get their dicks wet and enjoy
the rest of the evening with a little cocaine and some booze.

Chapter Two

Seven months
after the fall of civilization

Collin
walked across the rooftop, his last cigarette in his mouth and the sun beating
down on him. In just six short months the city of New York had crumbled. Parts
of buildings were missing from the bombs that had been dropped. The government
had tried to eradicate the threat of the infection spreading by killing off the
sick, as well as anyone still healthy and on the ground. Sections of the city
were nothing more than crumbled wastelands, burnt to the ground, blackened and
ash-filled. He had stayed, though, become the last man standing in his crew,
and watched everyone around him flee, become infected, or waste away and die.

He
sat on the edge of the roof, his feet hanging off the side, the drop below
thirty stories. The wind picked up, and the stench of the decay below, of the
filth that built up in the city and covered it like a sickening blanket, filled
his nose. He took another hit off the cigarette, pulled the smoke back, and
looked at it. He’d had a few cartons at his place before all of this shit had
happened, and during it he had acquired a few more cartons, along with other
supplies in exchange for helping some people. Because he had run things before
the infection, a lot of people in his area had looked for him for help. But
Collin couldn’t do anything but wait it out just like everyone else.

“So
long,” he said to the smoke, took the final hit, and then flicked it over the
ledge. Even from the distance he could see the infected below, stumbling
around, their groans muffled by the distance. Collin stood and walked back to
the rooftop entrance of the apartment building he lived in. He had the
penthouse, and although he had lived here comfortably for the last six months,
staying was not an option he wanted to exercise anymore. His resources in the
city had run out, and if he stayed he’d die like the rest of this place. The
country seemed like a good place to start his life over, away from this fucking
death, the life he had once had, and now was the time to leave.