Surviving The Virus | Book 7 | Reinfection

by Casey, Ryan

  Reinfection

  Surviving the Virus, Book 7

  Ryan Casey

  Contents

  Bonus Content

  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

  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

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

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  Chapter One

  Iqrah ran as quickly down the dark corridor as she could and prayed this wasn’t a dream.

  It was pitch black. Her tired, sore feet slapped against the cold metal like limp fish. She could hear her footsteps echoing all the way down this dingy, narrow corridor as she ran as fast as she could. She hoped it was fast enough. She knew she’d run quicker than this in the past. She used to be good at cross-country back at school. She came fifth in Year 4 and was majorly disappointed to only come eighth in Year 5. She looked forward to building on that in Year 6. If only.

  It seemed so long ago now. And even though she was seventeen now—old enough to be starting college, something she still couldn’t get her head around—she still felt like that little girl whose life had been turned upside-down eight years ago, when the virus first struck.

  She had grown in some ways. But in others, she had missed out. A lost childhood, like so many others.

  In the early days, she wondered if she’d ever get a chance to live that life again. Cross-country, the wind blowing through her hair. That freedom as she glided past the racists and the bullies, who as much as they tried to push her over or trip her up, just couldn’t get to her.

  One perk of this new world? The racists were gone now.

  As for the bullies, well. There was a whole different breed of bully to worry about.

  She heard a bang somewhere behind. Looked over her shoulder into the darkness. Heard footsteps racing down the corridor. Her heart raced. Her chest tightened. She spun around, kept on running on this slippery metal floor, eager to just keep going, eager to get away from here.

  “Iqrah! You need to come back here right this second. It’s not safe for you to be out there. It’s not safe for anyone if you’re out there!”

  She heard these words bouncing against the walls of the corridor. His words. The man who’d visited her every single day since they captured her. Since they took her away from her parents and locked her up in here.

  Doctor Fitzpatrick.

  She thought about the horrors she’d faced.

  Tests every single day. Sometimes painful. Sometimes not.

  Sometimes involving others. Sometimes, just her.

  But always that fear.

  Always that constant fear for company.

  They tried to make her feel safe. Tried to make her feel loved.

  But love only went so far when you were locked away in a padded cell wearing nothing but a hospital gown. Every single day of your life for…

  A year now.

  A long, torturous year.

  “Please, Iqrah! We’re so close! And you’ll be able to see your parents again!”

  She heard those words, and she slowed, just a little. Not fully.

  But that promise.

  The promise he and the rest of his medical staff promised her so many times.

  The promise that when all their work was done, when she’d finally fulfilled her purpose and been “such a good girl,” she could go back to her parents again.

  She allowed herself to believe it, just for a moment, then felt her stomach sink.

  She knew it was a lie.

  Because she’d seen the bodies.

  She remembered it happening by accident. They let her out for her allocated walk down the narrow underground corridor of the labs one day for fifteen minutes, and one of the smooth metal doors opened.

  The first thing that hit her was the smell.

  She’d turned around. Looked into that room.

  And she’d seen them in there.

  A mass of bodies.

  Little girls.

  Little boys.

  Girls and boys they’d put her face to face with; that they’d tested on, always opposite her.

  Stacked up on top of one another in a big metal box, ready to be thrown into an incinerator.

  She had told no one what she’d seen. She feared if she let on that she’d seen the bodies, they’d kill her right away.

  And sometimes, that seemed like the best option. For the hours of pain, the hours of isolation, the hours of torture.

  But despite all this, she’d held on.

  She’d kept on going.

  That hope her parents were still out there, waiting for her in Blackpool.

  That hope that they hadn’t given up on her. That they were still holding on, too. Maybe out there, searching for her, as dangerous as that was in this unknown world.

  She kept going, kept on willing herself to live hoping she’d find her parents, and told herself she’d find a moment one day. She’d find a chance. An opportunity.

  And she’d found it.

  Carlos, he was called. One of the nicer ones. Big guy. Wore thick-rimmed glasses and always gave her Eclair sweets when the others weren’t looking.

  He was always too relaxed when he was around her. Always let her out of her cuffs. Left the door open.

  Today, he’d made a big mistake.

  He’d left the syringe of stuff that made all her muscles go weak by her side.

  Left the door unlocked while he turned around to make a brew, whistling away.

  She’d grabbed that syringe.

  Rammed it into his neck.

  Apologised to him as he slumped, shaking, to the floor.

  And then she’d grabbed his keycard, and she hadn’t looked back.

  She took a left, followed the corridor around. Saw a door up ahead, closed shut.

  More footsteps closing in behind her.

  “Iqrah! Get back here right this second!”

  She focused on every footstep.

  Raced towards this closed door.

  Knowing full well if this went wrong, she was dead. It was over. All of it was over.

  “Iqrah!”

  Alarms started blaring through the corridors.

  Red lights flashing overhead.

  Keep it cool, Iqrah. You can do this. You’ve got this.

  She slammed against the door. Fumbled for Carlos’ key card.

  Dropped it to the floor.

  “Shit.”

  She reached down. Picked it up.
>
  Footsteps getting closer.

  More of them closing in.

  A voice echoing behind her, getting closer now. “Iqrah, please!”

  She held the keycard over the green-lit pad. Waited for it to bleep like when Mum used to pay for stuff using contactless in a shop. It always used to go wrong. Never used to work properly.

  She hoped she had more luck right now.

  She stood there. Waited. Gritted her teeth as the alarm blared out. As the footsteps closed in. As time ran out.

  “Come on. Why aren’t you working?”

  She held the card there when she heard the footsteps stop.

  She looked around.

  Saw five of them standing there.

  Doctor Fitzpatrick leading them.

  The worst of them all.

  “Iqrah, please,” Doctor Fitzpatrick said. The bodies flanking him were in full quarantine gear. “Don’t do this, darling. I know you’re scared. I know you’ve been through so, so much. But we need you here. Don’t you understand? We need you. And you might not realise it yet, but you need us. Everyone needs you, and you need everyone. Come back, my love. Come back. It’s... it’s the only way you’ll ever see them again.”

  She saw the pain in his eyes, illuminated in the red light. Heard the fear in his voice. And a part of her wanted to go back. A part of her wanted to believe this was all for the greater good. That she’d see her parents again, soon.

  But then something happened.

  A bleep behind her.

  Light filling the corridors.

  She didn’t understand at first. It looked like a bomb had gone off. She wondered if she’d been shot, or drugged.

  But then she turned around, and she realised.

  The door was open.

  And she was staring outside.

  Seeing the outdoors for the first time in a year.

  The blue sky.

  The burning sun.

  The trees shaking in a cool, succulent breeze.

  All of it drawing her towards it, impossible to resist.

  “Iqrah. Please, my love. Please. It’s not safe for you out there. Guards? Where are the guards? Iqrah, come back here. Right now. You’re important. You’re special. You don’t want to do this.”

  She looked back into the dark, dingy corridor. Thought about all the pain she’d been through. All the suffering.

  And then she looked right into the eyes of that evil man who’d put her through all this.

  And in her shaking, strained voice, she said: “I’ll find my parents myself.”

  She saw Doctor Fitzpatrick’s eyes widen.

  Saw the fear across his face.

  “Guards!” he screamed.

  She turned around, into the light, and she ran.

  And even though she didn’t know what road lay ahead, Iqrah felt free again.

  A sole tear crept down her cheek, and as the wind blew against her long, dark hair, Iqrah smiled.

  Chapter Two

  Noah stared at the town in the distance and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

  It was late morning. For the first time in God knows how long, it wasn’t snowing. Blue skies. Burning sun. Actually felt like spring, which made a nice change to the intense winter they’d just experienced.

  But at the same time, it reminded Noah of the start of the virus. The summer heat. The brightness of the old world contrasting this greyed-out, sepia-tinged new existence. Memories were in rich colours. Reality was in grey.

  The streets were the same as always. Abandoned cars, rusting away. Foliage cracking between the pavements. Boarded up windows of terraced houses and shops long ago smashed and splintered.

  And as always, there was silence in the air. An eerie silence that would never not be creepy. The sound of crows cawing overhead the only thing cutting through it. The sound of Noah’s pulse racing in his skull.

  And the footsteps of those with him.

  “Are you sure about this, Noah?”

  Noah looked around.

  Kelly stood there. Edward in her arms. She looked gaunt. Far thinner than she used to be, and she wasn’t exactly the biggest person, to begin with.

  Now, she looked unhealthy. They all looked unhealthy. The look of the new world. Pale faces. High cheekbones.

  But they were alive.

  And that was health in itself in a world so bereft of survivors.

  Edward looked quite plump as he sat there in his mother’s arms. He was a quiet kid for a toddler. Not a terror. A bit of a treat, in all truth. Noah never really liked kids, so he had to admit he’d been slightly worried when Edward hit the awkward toddler years.

  But he was so well behaved. Probably because it’d been drilled in him how important being well behaved actually was right from the day he was born. A new level of self-awareness kids were just learning to live with.

  The dogs were either side of Kelly. Barney was getting on a bit now. Bruno still a yappy little shit for a black Lab. He loved those dogs. Not just because Barney reminded him of Jasmine, but because they were his companions. They were the ones who got him through when things were tough.

  And things were often tough.

  Especially in a world where Noah had some sort of abilities that seemed to be able to deter the infected.

  Especially when he was… well, no need to beat around the bush: he was different. He was special.

  He thought back to the day he’d realised he had some kind of influence over the infected. Tapping into some place inside him, communicating with them, making them turn away.

  And then there was something else. Back at the quarry, two months ago. Drawing them there. Drawing the infected there.

  He didn’t understand how he did it. He didn’t know how deep his powers went.

  Just that they terrified him.

  Noah looked at the empty road through the town ahead. A few crows swooped down and fought over the bones of a dead rabbit. Moss grew over the rusty, damp cars, nature taking a stand once again. “It looks clear to me. We’ll be fine.”

  “You can’t know that,” Kelly said.

  “I know it looks empty. And I know we haven’t run into any infected for days now.”

  “But you can’t know. So don’t go making any promises you can’t keep just to make yourself feel better.”

  Noah looked into Kelly’s eyes, and he knew she was right. “This is about Clitheroe, isn’t it?”

  Kelly looked away. Shook her head. “You know I liked that place.”

  “I liked it too. It was our home for a month. But…”

  “I get it. You had a ‘feeling’.”

  “Don’t patronise me.”

  “Look, Noah. You keep on getting these eerie ‘feelings’. And that’s great if it keeps us safe. But I’m worried we’re going to make a wrong move someday. I’m worried we’re going to turn our back on a home and walk right into something dangerous. I’m worried one of your ‘feelings’ is gonna cause a lot of hurt for either of us. And I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit.”

  Noah looked around again. The town was eerie, sure. That much went without saying.

  But it looked empty. Like so many other towns they’d walked through.

  But beyond that, there was something else. The crux of what Kelly was saying.

  His desire to keep moving.

  His fear of standing still…

  Ever since the run-in with the infected back at the quarry, Noah hadn’t been able to shake the nightmares. Nightmares they were coming for him. Nightmares he was tuned in to them, somehow. He couldn’t put it into words, but there was this void he felt connected to, and in that void, it felt like they were following him at all times. Like he really was this “beacon” he’d been told he was back at the compound, all those years ago.

  And it was hard to explain. Hard to put into words.

  But he had an instinct. He had a gut feeling.

  And he didn’t want to ignore those gut feelings.

 
Ignoring his gut in the past had only got him into deep shit.

  “We keep moving,” he said. “We get through this town, and we check out the caravans in the woods at the other side. I think they’ll be good. Water access. Surrounding forests. And we can isolate ourselves there for a while.”

  “How long’s ‘a while’?” Kelly asked.

  Noah didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to answer that question.

  Instead, he just turned around, towards the town.

  “Come on. The sooner we get through here, the better.”

  The town was eerier than Noah was hoping.

  Every footstep echoed against the grey-bricked buildings either side of them. Shop windows were smashed. Signs still advertised 30% off sales, with photographs of people on the posters looking so happy, so content with their lives. So unaware of what was to come.

  Mannequins lay on their side, sexy underwear wrapped around their ankles, a perverse reminder of a simpler old world.

  “Stay close,” Noah said, glancing around at Kelly. She seemed distant today. More fearful than usual. She was a tough cookie. Toughest person he’d ever known.

  But he knew that fear and uncertainty only came because of her son.

  She’d changed since having Edward. She was a different woman completely. More protective. More cautious. More set on settling down in one place rather than constantly seeking something else out there.

  It put her at odds with Noah from time to time. He knew this tension wasn’t going away.

  He just hoped they could reach the caravans, settle there for a while.

  At least until the bad feeling returned, until the urge to move on resurfaced…