Pestilence: A Post Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Surviving the Virus Book 8)

by Ryan Casey

  Noah saw the infected hurtling closer and closer, and he realised with an immense sense of dread that this woman really wasn’t fucking around.

  She wanted to see proof he was for real. For whatever purpose, he didn’t really know. Probably just so she could rinse more fucking value out of him when she took him back to her masters, whoever the hell this “Renault” was.

  But he didn’t really give a shit about reasoning right now. Main thing that mattered? Staying the hell alive.

  And if he had to try to lean on his abilities to do that… then he’d just have to God well do it.

  The infected raced closer. Behind, he heard the woman backing off a little.

  “Come on,” she said. “What’s up with you? Performance anxiety or summat?”

  “It’d help if you stopped badgering on,” Noah said.

  “Oh, really? That how the superpowers work, eh buddy?”

  “They really do. So I’d appreciate a bit of patience and silence right now.”

  “Yeah, well, only gonna give you so much silence here. Real chance to prove yourself. Do it, and maybe we can start talking negotiation then.”

  Noah gritted his teeth, his jaw aching from gritting them so damned much. It was pretty much a character trait at this point. He focused on the approaching infected. No real confidence in his abilities. No real belief he had it in him to tap into that void. His strength felt sapped. His anxiety, sky-high.

  If he died at the hands of a lunatic desperate for him to prove his worth—if this were the end of his story—then it would be just fucking typical.

  No fireworks moments. No drama.

  Just torn apart by the infected dead in the empty streets.

  Typical.

  Fucking…

  One of the infected threw itself at him just feet away.

  He squeezed his fist.

  Closed his eyes.

  A bang.

  He opened his eyes.

  The infected lay dead on the road—proper dead this time.

  The woman sighed. “That wasn’t your superpowers, buddy. One down, four to go!”

  He turned to the next. Eager to just prove this woman wrong. Even if it affected him.

  And he wondered if maybe he could tap into the abilities and fucking turn her. But he definitely felt out of touch with that part of himself at the moment. Definitely felt like that side of him had faded.

  Another infected scurried forward.

  Another gunshot.

  “Three to go!”

  “Jesus,” Noah said. “You really are fucking insane, aren’t you?”

  The woman laughed. “You’re the insane one, buddy. Especially if you don’t get proving yourself ASAP.”

  Another blast.

  “Two to go. You’re up!”

  Noah let out a shaky breath. He tried to push every thought out of his mind. Iqrah. Bruno. Kirsty. All of it.

  He tried to drop his baggage and sink into the moment when he felt the infected slam into him.

  When he heard a click.

  “Shit,” the woman said. “I’m all out.”

  And then the infected slammed into him.

  Knocked him to the road.

  He fell back. Barely had time to see the next infected run past, launch itself at the woman.

  And as he stared up into the dead eyes of this dark-haired woman above him, green vomit rolling down her chin, maggots worming their way across her forehead, he thought about just letting them take her. Just using this to his advantage.

  Letting them take him too and ending any hopes of the Society ever using him.

  But then he thought of Iqrah.

  He thought of Kirsty.

  He thought of Bruno.

  And then, as the infected woman tightened her grip around his throat, everything froze.

  The woman’s hand.

  Tightening first.

  Then loosening.

  He looked up at her. Saw something like surprise in her dead eyes.

  Go. Leave here. Go.

  The infected woman staggered back.

  Backed away. Step by step by step.

  Go. Leave. Never come back. Now!

  And then the infected woman snarled and ran off into the streets, into the distance.

  That’s when he heard her crying out.

  He looked around.

  The woman on the road.

  The infected on top of her.

  “Help! Come on, man! Please!”

  Noah wanted to leave her. Wanted to let the infected tear her apart.

  But then he had a better idea.

  He lifted a hand.

  Felt a force within him.

  And then he tightened his grip.

  The infected shook.

  Writhed.

  Saliva and blood drooled from its mouth.

  “What’s happening?” the woman shouted. “What the fuck’s—”

  It all happened so fast.

  A popping sound.

  The infected’s skull bursting open.

  Brains and blood splattering all over the woman on the road.

  “Shit,” she said. “Shit.”

  Noah walked over to her.

  Lifted his knife.

  Pointed it at her.

  “On your feet,” he said. “Right this fucking second. We’re doing things my way from now on. Whether you like it or fucking not.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It all happened so fast.

  One moment, Kirsty stood there. Haunted look in her wide eyes. Her face all pale and horrified. The look on her face like she was about to tell Iqrah something.

  “Iqrah, I…”

  And then there was a bang.

  Iqrah jumped. Almost dropped Bruno on the ground the second she heard the bang.

  She looked up. Tried to understand where that bang came from. Tried to see the source of it.

  And then she saw it.

  Blood seeping out of Kirsty’s mouth.

  Her feet staggering from side to side.

  Confusion replacing the horror and the terror on her face.

  And then another blast.

  Blood splattering right out of her throat.

  Iqrah jumped again. Screamed a little. Clutched tightly on to Bruno, who snored and slept through it all, still weak after his last incident.

  All she could do was stand there as Kirsty stared at her.

  Blood pooling down her neck.

  All she could do was watch as she put her hand to the back of her head.

  When she pulled her fingers away, Iqrah saw the blood and the flesh on the ends of them.

  “Don’t…” Kirsty said. “Don’t…”

  Then there was another blast, and Kirsty fell to the ground before her.

  Iqrah stared down at her. Heart pounding. She didn’t want to leave her because she didn’t want to be alone. And it was Kirsty. She was a good person. She’d always been a good person.

  But the blood on the back of her head. The way her skull had cracked open, torn apart by a bullet.

  She was gone.

  There was no fighting for her.

  She was gone.

  She looked up and into the distance and saw them.

  Three of them. Half-expected them to be dressed in Society gear at first.

  But they weren’t. They looked… different somehow. Like they had the Society black on, but with a red smear across the front of their clothes. Like a marking. A marking that made them different from the normal Society.

  She knew she was probably reading too much into it. She didn’t have time to read anything into anything right now.

  She saw these people lift their rifles.

  One of them, a man, shouted out: “Don’t move another muscle, Iqrah! We’re here to help you!”

  We’re here to help you.

  After just gunning down Kirsty right before her eyes.

  She took a few steps back. Held tightly on to Bruno. He lifted his head. Looked up at her. Growled a l
ittle, then rested his head again. Her arms were so heavy. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold on to him, only that she had to. She couldn’t let him go. Not now. She loved him, and he was Noah’s dog. She’d already let Noah down. She couldn’t let his dog down too.

  “Iqrah, please,” the man said. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. But that woman just then. She was a danger to you. She wanted to take you some place grim. We want to take you some place nice.”

  What were they talking about? Did they know Kirsty? No. They were bullshitting. They had to be.

  She took another step back.

  “Please,” the man said, lowering his rifle this time. “Your parents. We have your parents back at our place. All they want is to see their girl again.”

  Iqrah froze.

  That promise.

  That promise of her parents.

  If they were bullshitting… how would they know?

  “Come on, Iqrah,” the man said. “I know you’re afraid. And you’re right to be. But you have to believe me. That woman there—Kirsty, she was called. She was trouble. Up to no good. You have to believe me. You have to believe all of us. It ain’t safe for you out here. Come with us, and we can get you back to your parents, and you can learn the truth about everything.”

  Iqrah stood totally still. Frozen to the spot. Heart pounding. Rooted to where she stood because of those words. That mention of her parents.

  “Come on, Iqrah,” the man said, arms raised now. Rifle pointing nowhere near her. “We don’t have to have any more trouble now.”

  She stood there, and for a moment, she wanted to believe in this guy. For a moment, she truly wanted to believe he was right. That they had her parents. That her parents were okay. That they were here to help her, and they were going to take her to them.

  And then she saw it.

  Just in the corner of her eye.

  One of the guards at the back. Switching his rifle on the top. Switching its mode, probably to sedative darts, like she’d seen the other Society guards do, the ones without the red stripe.

  “Iq…”

  She didn’t hear the rest of what the man said.

  She turned to the left and bolted.

  Right away, she felt something whoosh past her neck. Heard the guard who’d been speaking with her curse.

  “Fuck it. What the fuck, Dave?”

  And then some commotion.

  And the next thing she knew, more of those darts were firing at her, all around her.

  She ran past a car. Ran into an alleyway, Bruno in her arms. She couldn’t run as fast with him. She was getting out of breath. Her arms were aching. Her chest was tight.

  And she could hear those footsteps getting closer.

  She looked over her shoulder.

  Saw nothing but shadows.

  She turned around again. Ran past an old bin. The skeleton of someone—probably a homeless man—sat at its side.

  She just had to get to the bottom. Take a turn. She could lose them. She could hide from them here. She had to.

  “Stop right there!”

  The voice echoing down the alleyway.

  So close to the bottom of it now. So close to the turn.

  She went to turn as more of those darts whizzed past her when she froze.

  There wasn’t a turn at the bottom of the alleyway.

  It was a dead end.

  She stopped. Froze entirely.

  Turned around and saw the guards running down there towards her.

  The guy at the front, the one he’d been speaking to. Rifle raised now. Smile on his unmasked face.

  “Seriously, kiddo,” he said, lifting his rifle higher. “You should’ve just come with us when you had the chance.”

  And then he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Thirty

  Noah pointed the knife at the woman’s back and stood right behind her.

  “Walk,” he said.

  She stood there. Eyes wide. Blood all over her. Clearly still reeling from the incident with the infected. Noah’s display of his abilities. Of what he was capable.

  Tapping into it again, in a way he never thought he’d manage again, especially not with how tired he was feeling, how exhausted he was feeling.

  “Go on,” he said. “I won’t ask you again. Walk.”

  The woman puffed out her lips. “And where the hell you think you’re gonna take me, huh? Might as well just kill me. Get it done with.”

  “Trust me,” Noah said. “The thought has crossed my mind.”

  “What’re you keeping me around for anyway? You coulda just left me. Let me get torn apart back there. But no. You just had to show off your powers, didn’t you? Neat little trick you got there. Added a fair bitta value on your head, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah, well, whoever the hell this ‘Renault’ dude is, we aren’t gonna be meeting him. You’re coming with me.”

  “Where to, huh? Some nice place you’ve got lined up? Some sanctuary you’ve been lied to about? ’Cause they’re all lies, buddy. They’re all lies. And the sooner you can accept that, the sooner you can get your head around that, the better. There ain’t no hope out here in No Man’s Land. It’s everyone for themselves. The good places, they all fell, a helluva long time ago. There ain’t no goodness out here anymore. There’s only chaos. And you’d better jump the hell on board, mister. Especially with skills like that. They’re gonna get you a long way out here.”

  Noah tutted. “Shut up, seriously.”

  Truth be told, he didn’t really know what his plan was. Well. He had a vague plan. A plan to travel to the Morecambe safe haven he’d been told about. A plan to run into Iqrah, Kirsty, Bruno there.

  He thought about Bruno, and his stomach turned. Wounded. Whining.

  He hoped he was okay. He hoped he didn’t run into him on the road. Last thing he needed right now was to find his dog dead, somehow only a couple of weeks after the last one died, Barney.

  Shit. That felt like forever ago. A lot had happened in a hell of a short period of time.

  He only had one place in mind. One place in sight.

  Morecambe.

  Iqrah.

  Bruno.

  Kirsty.

  And that’s what he had to focus on. Cross whatever bridge he came to when he got to it.

  “Where you from anyway?” the woman asked.

  “What?”

  “You don’t seem like you’ve been living out here awful long,” she said. “You seem like you’re from somewhere... nicer than out here. Cleaner than out here.”

  “Where I’m from doesn’t really matter. How about you anyway?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re so eager to ask shit about me. I don’t even know your name.”

  The woman looked back at Noah then smiled a toothless grin. She looked caught in two minds about opening up to him. He expected her to double down. To keep that air of mystery about her.

  Then she did something he didn’t expect: “Name’s Shel. You want my life story? Yeah, I’ll give it to ya. Worked in security before all this shit. Lost everything I loved on day one. Girlfriend. Dog. The whole lot, bam.

  “Spent the first few years just drifting from place to place, really. Never really settled. Didn’t wanna attach. Didn’t wanna make any bonds. Suicidal half the time. But hey. The second wave came along and wiped all folks out, and those times were kind of bliss. Finally had my own headspace in all that damned confusion. Well, until the virus rose again, and factions rose, and the Society came along. Since then, guess I just became even more of a drifter. Started working for some unsavoury folk. Know it won’t last forever... but hey. We gotta do what we gotta do, huh?”

  Noah tasted a bitterness to his mouth. He wasn’t sure he liked hearing Shel’s story. Because it humanised her. It turned her into something else. A person. A person with their own issues. Their own traumas.

  It conflicted him.

  “I know you’ll judge me,” Shel said. “People always goddamn
ed do. And I deserve it, I guess. But I ain’t in this world to make friends, my buddy. And neither are you. I can see it in your eyes. So it’s about time you got real and faced up to shit right this second. What do you want with me? Why are you keeping me alive?”

  Noah looked into Shel’s eyes, and he found himself at a crossroads. On the one hand, he didn’t want to reach out to her. Didn’t want to connect with her. Because she’d have traded him for supplies and sold him into slavery in a heartbeat, and she probably still would.

  But at the same time... he heard her.

  He wasn’t in this world to make friends either.

  But she was a human with her own goals and her own life.

  So why couldn’t he look past that and help her?

  “I’m going somewhere like I told you,” he said. “My friend. A girl. Iqrah. She’s like me. Wanted by the Society. Somehow, when we’re together... we’re even more powerful. They think together we can create some kind of cure. Some kind of future. But they’ll harm Iqrah to get to that point. And I can’t accept that. I’d rather live in a world where the virus rages than a world without it that one single kid has to suffer for.”

  Shel studied him. Quiet. Stoic.

  “I’m going to a place north of here. Morecambe. It’s a good place. A safe place. There’s good people there. People who can look out for us. Help us. You should... you should come with me. Join me there. You don’t have to keep on living the life you’ve been living. You can start again. We all can.”

  Shel studied him further. Silent. Totally silent. Eyes piercing through him. Like she was trying to get a read on him. Trying to figure out whether to trust him.

  And then she just shook her head and smirked. “Shit.”

  Noah frowned. “What?”

  “Hell,” she said. “Right then, I almost felt sorry for you.”

  A shiver crept up Noah’s spine. “I don’t understand.”

  “This place. Morecambe. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, buddy... but if that’s where your little girly is heading, she’s in deep shit. You both are.”

  Noah went cold. “What—”

  “It’s about time you learned a thing or two about the Reds,” she said. “And trust me, fella. When you find out about them, the bog-standard Society goons will be the least of your concerns.”