American Savage Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Aperitif

  First Course

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Second Course

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Third Course

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Digestif

  Meat The Savages

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Copyright

  For Emma, as ever

  APERITIF

  Titus Savage waited for his tenant to answer the door with one eye on the alligator.

  He had spotted it as soon as he climbed out of his pickup truck. The creature was basking on the lawn that fronted the apartment complex. It hadn’t moved when he approached the building and made his presence known. Even so, Titus knew that it was watching him closely.

  ‘Does nobody read the signs?’ he muttered to himself, wondering what was taking the guy so long.

  It was the barbeque area around the back that attracted the reptiles. The smell of charring meat led them to crawl out of the waterway that bordered the property. Normally, they would watch from the undergrowth and wait for everyone to leave before seeing what they could scavenge. What made them a regular feature in the grounds lately was the fact that one or two idiots had decided it would be fun to toss them chicken bones. OK, so the gators around here were only a couple of feet long. They weren’t as big or aggressive as the ones found upriver. Those beasts would strike at a splash. Still, they possessed a killer instinct, and that deserved respect. Shaking his head at what he faced here, Titus made a mental note to call the wildlife removal company. It would be another cost at his expense, of course, and that only served to sour his mood when his tenant finally appeared behind the fly screen.

  ‘You?’ growled the guy in question, a bulky-looking man who sounded like he hadn’t used his voice all day. ‘You can’t beat at the door making out you’re a cop. I got rights!’

  From inside the apartment, Titus could hear a television chat show coming through an impressive-sounding speaker system. His tenant was registered in the contract as Harvey Gulcher. He had come to the door in his vest and boxers, and was clearly irritated. This came as no surprise to Titus, who had attempted to reach him on his cell phone on several occasions. It was kind of rude, he thought, seeing as the man had been at home each time he called and was clearly just pretending not to be there. Titus knew this for sure as he had been discreetly watching him from his pickup throughout the past few days. Pretending to be a policeman on his porch had seemed like a sure-fire way to get Harvey’s attention. No doubt it broke some law, but it was nothing compared to what Titus had in store.

  ‘I’ve come about the rent,’ he told Harvey, his voice calm and friendly. ‘It’s been two weeks now. I’m sad that you’ve gone quiet on me.’

  Titus knew that in a certain light, with his bald dome and broad shoulders, he could appear somewhat formidable. His blue eyes had a hardened and penetrating quality, which is why he reminded himself to keep blinking and beaming.

  ‘I’ve had cash-flow issues,’ reasoned Harvey, which Titus knew to be true. Earlier in the week, he had been parked in the street waiting for the man to return from the grocery store when the delivery truck pulled up with the home entertainment system. Titus had even used the master key to let them leave the box in the hallway, and what thanks had he received in return?

  ‘I appreciate times are tough,’ said Titus with a smile that tightened. ‘But I have to feed my family.’

  From behind the screen, Harvey casually bit at his thumbnail cuticle as if to indicate that his landlord would have to do much better than that. Titus judged the man’s body mass index to be close to thirty. No doubt Harvey considered himself to be bearlike or chunky. According to the numbers, however, he had arrived in the realm of the obese. In his late twenties, Harvey was a contract computer hardware technician with no significant others in his life. Titus tended to favour individuals such as this when it came to renting out his single-occupancy apartments. In total, he owned seven in the same complex. It was his father who had once joked that what his son had here was a battery farm, but Titus failed to see the funny side. His tenants were free to come and go as they pleased, and could count on him as a responsible and courteous property management agent. As long as they kept to the terms of their agreement, and were polite if they called him out for maintenance and repair tasks, chances were they’d live long and fulfilling lives.

  ‘I wouldn’t stick around out there,’ warned Harvey just then, who had briefly switched his attention to the gator on the lawn. Titus turned to see that the beast had crept towards him by a couple of feet. He looked back at the tenant, who grinned at him. ‘You don’t want to end up as lunch.’

  ‘So, may I come in to discuss the situation?’

  Harvey considered Titus through the screen for a moment longer, the TV still blaring, before scratching at his chest and opening the door.

  ‘The last thing I want is bloodshed on my doorstep,’ he grumbled. ‘Let’s make it quick.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to.’ Titus was already reaching for his back pocket as Harvey led him through to the living room.

  Like most of the tenants so carefully vetted by Titus before he handed over the keys, Harvey wasn’t the kind of person who liked to socialise. One glance at the unwashed socks on the hallway floor assured Titus that the guy hadn’t entertained in quite a while. As for the speakers sitting astride the widescreen TV, in Titus’s opinion it was all too big for the space. Still, he gave it only a brief glance before stepping up behind Harvey and looping the wire garrotte around his neck. Harvey gasped in surprise, but even as his hands snapped upwards it was too late to escape from the clutches of his landlord. Just as Titus had promised, pulling tight upon the handles, he didn’t take up too much of the man’s time. In fact, it would’ve been over for him much sooner had Titus’s son picked another moment to call.

  ‘Am I too late?’ was the first thing Ivan asked, once Titus had managed to pinch the cell phone between his ear and his shoulder. It was a struggle to hold onto the garrotte with one hand as he did so, but he could never ignore the boy’s ringtone. It was the same if any other member of his family called. Whenever they tried to reach him, it never went to answer machine.

  ‘Ivan, you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago,’ grunted Titus, as the man struggling in his clutches finally sank to the floor. ‘This apprenticeship is never going to work if you can’t keep good time.’

  The silence down the line was in contrast to the sound of strangled gargling as saliva collected in the dying man’s throat. It provided Titus with just enough time to assure his victim that his memory would be treated with respect in the same way as his body. Then it was
all over for Harvey as a tenant, and just the beginning of his journey to the table.

  ‘Something came up, Dad,’ said Ivan eventually. ‘But I promise I’ll be home in time for supper.’

  FIRST COURSE

  1

  As a precaution, the Savage family ate with the blinds closed.

  In the dining room, as the tea lights began to expire, the dessert stage was proving to be quite a trial. There was no problem with the way the food tasted. It was the sheer volume that challenged their stomach capacity.

  ‘That’s me done,’ said Ivan, who pushed his plate away. The boy had been unusually quiet since returning home from high school, and so this declaration of defeat drew attention from around the table. ‘I’m stuffed,’ he added, sitting back with his hands pressed to his T-shirt.

  Seated across from him, behind the carcass on the roasting tray and the remains from previous courses that surrounded it, a gamine young woman peered across at him.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ she said under her breath, but just loud enough to be heard by everyone. ‘All that finger food earlier.’

  ‘So? I was hungry!’ At fifteen, but with an intensity that exceeded his years, Ivan levelled his gaze over the leftovers. ‘Anyway, who put you in charge? You’re not even a Savage.’

  ‘That’s enough!’ The man at one end of the table glared at his son. Titus had opted not to push Ivan for an explanation as to why he’d failed to show at the apartment complex. The kid had a lot on at school. Everyone knew that. Even so, as head of the household, Titus Savage made no exceptions when it came to bad manners at the table. ‘Amanda is one of us now,’ he said, switching his gaze to their lodger, ‘if not in name then in heart and soul.’

  Amanda kept her hair cropped elegantly, which highlighted both her angular face and striking self-confidence. Titus was disappointed to find her smirking into her plate, but chose not to pursue it. In a way, Amanda simply filled the space vacated by their eldest daughter. With Sasha in her first year at university, wisely studying criminology and forensic science, Titus was pleased that every seat around the table was still taken. Inevitably, such a thought drew his attention to the centenarian sitting alongside him. At 103, it was a miracle that his father Oleg was still here at all. Titus observed the old man draw his dessert through a straw. He did so with a slurp, the thick fluid rising towards lips concealed by a long, white, whiskery beard, and then sighed with satisfaction. Through Titus’s eyes, a meal like this was what invigorated them all. It was, he felt sure, the secret behind such a long and eventful life.

  ‘If there are scraps left on Ivan’s plate,’ Oleg said, having run a tongue across his gums to clean them, ‘just put it all through the blender and I’ll finish up for him.’

  Ivan and Amanda exchanged a look, each wrinkling their noses, which Titus didn’t approve of one little bit. This was a feast, after all – a special occasion, with no place for bickering or disrespect. Everyone knew full well the lengths involved in laying on such a spread. As ever, sourcing the main ingredient had fallen to Titus, as did the entrapment and slaughter. It was a shame that Ivan hadn’t been there to assist him and learn on this occasion, but the real hard work – the magic, even – was down to one bewitching and very talented woman. Extending his gaze to the far end of the table, Titus observed his dear wife clearing her bowl. Even Angelica’s apple pie tasted like no other. It was the shortcrust pastry that he savoured most, made with lard that she had rendered herself from the meat joints. Yes, you could buy a more conventional kind of thing in the stores, but it didn’t come close in taste or satisfaction. For the Savage family, there was no substitute.

  ‘Yet again, you’ve triumphed,’ Titus told her, and prepared to find space for one more mouthful.

  ‘It’s all for you.’

  She rarely smiled, his wife, and yet Titus could judge her mood just by gazing into her eyes. Right now, Angelica looked quietly satisfied that she had delivered another unforgettable spread. Titus lifted the spoon to his mouth. Sensing his shirt pull tight across his belly as he did so, the slightest hint of self-loathing soured the mouthful. There was no denying that he had put on a few pounds lately. Ever since the family had moved here, in fact, he found himself climbing onto the scales with a heavy heart, but what could he do about it? He had always taken pride in locally sourcing food for their feasts, and it was inevitable that the meat from these parts would carry a little extra fat. There also tended to be a lot more of it on the bone, and the Savages never left anything to waste.

  Titus was as surprised as everyone else when his meal repeated on him. Just as he swallowed the last mouthful of pie, the noise commanded everyone’s attention.

  ‘Pardon me!’ he declared, much to the delight of the youngest family member. Little Katya giggled at her father, looking like a princess in her plastic tiara and dressing-up gown.

  ‘You belched,’ she said, in an accent that sounded more naturalised by the day. ‘Daddy belched.’

  ‘We say “burped”, honey pie,’ her mother stressed to correct her. ‘Don’t be vulgar.’

  As everyone settled back to finishing their food, Titus observed his wife once more. Since their arrival, Angelica had embraced the gym, and how that showed in her figure! She was naturally slim, with a swan-like neck on poised shoulders, but had come to possess a lean and firm quality in her physique. Unlike Titus, she could enjoy a feast without piling on the pounds. Even the younger ones could get away with it, but not him. Still, Titus had more pressing concerns, and all of them were gathered at the table before him. This was his calling, and what a great source of pride it was to him. Looking around at his brood, he felt much better about the situation. If he could no longer look down naked and see his kneecaps then so be it.

  Family came first, after all, no matter what got in the way.

  2

  As a culinary concept, cannibalism was not something Titus expected to break into the mainstream any time soon.

  People didn’t know what they were missing, in his opinion, but the practice was just too tied up in taboos to be something the general populace would embrace. For one thing, everyone still clung to an outdated concept of what it all involved. That kind of human meat eater, with a bone through his nose, a dance for the rain gods and an appetite for missionaries, well, it belonged to the history books. It was a damn shame, Titus believed. In a day and age when everyone fretted about the quality of the meat that went into their mouths, unknowingly gobbling up horse and Lord knows what else in their ready meals, here was a source of nourishment that wasn’t just fresh but free-range and in bountiful supply. With a little groundwork, you knew exactly where it had come from and what condition it was in before it arrived in the kitchen. As for the moral considerations, it was perfectly possible to select someone for the table who basically deserved nothing less. Even when the purpose of their existence left a lot to be desired, Titus always set out to ensure the kill was humane. Harvey was a classic example. Causing the man to fear for his life for a prolonged period wasn’t kind. It would also result in a surge of adrenaline – a hormonal rush that only tainted the taste of the meat.

  Tonight’s dinner had taken some preparation. In transforming his tenant into a tasty treat, every step of the process had required care and attention from Titus and his family. As he had hoped to show his son, had football not kept Ivan from the kill, the flavour always improved through hanging the carcass for a short time. With the air conditioning in the apartment switched off, it allowed the bodily enzymes to break down quickly along with the evaporation of excess moisture. So, as Titus owned the place, he had permitted Harvey to remain there a while longer – strapped by his ankles from the roof joist. Then, as the gases that bloated the body worked their way free, and just before the smell threatened to upset the neighbours, Titus had enlisted Ivan to help move him out at dusk. It was a start for the boy, he believed, though there was still a long way to go. Later, in the family kitchen, and with great pride and expectation, he had
watched his wife transform the corpse into a spread of culinary delights. There was something just so incomparably life-affirming about the consumption of your own kind. It was like a fuel injection into the bloodstream. A supercharging of the soul. Once you’d tasted such a thing, there could be no going back.

  To eat a feast was a treat, but the Savage family could not afford to leave a trace behind. Fortunately, Titus had selected a food source where people often took off without a sign. In the rental sector, tenants were forever defaulting and then disappearing with their belongings. So as long as he continued to take on the kind of recluse who wouldn’t be much missed – which tended to boil down to bachelors from the IT sector – he always had a door to knock upon whenever the occasion for a feast arose. As a result of such diligence, all that remained of Harvey after they’d eaten was the paperwork, as well as the odd juice speck upon the table. So, once everyone had finished their meal, and before Titus retired to his study, the washing-up operation commenced. Everything needed to be scrubbed and sterilised, from the crockery and cutlery to the kitchen surfaces and the cooking equipment, including the oven and the extractor fan over the hob. It was a deep clean that took care of everything from drops of grease right down to the DNA. It demanded patience and commitment, which is why Angelica was quick to suggest that Ivan should be the one to escort Oleg back to his home.