Surviving The Virus | Book 7 | Reinfection

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Surviving The Virus | Book 7 | Reinfection Page 11

by Casey, Ryan


  Noah nodded. Truth be told, he always suspected he’d been sold something of a lie when it came to the districts, and No Man’s Land. He didn’t like the Society control, right from the very start. Often wondered if he’d fare better outside the perimeter.

  But he supposed he’d just got comfortable in his caravan on the edge of society.

  His attachment to the dead probably keeping him there.

  Baby Edward’s body, and all he stood for.

  “What made you wind up inside the districts, anyway?” Tracey asked.

  “Huh?” Noah asked.

  “You don’t seem like the kinda guy to adhere to strict rules and regs. What happened there?”

  Noah thought back over the years. Thought back to his caravan. To his dogs. To that illusion of safety, he’d found there. That sense of security.

  “I guess I just bought into the myth that there was nothing better for me out here.”

  “And then the girl brought you out here?” Bert asked.

  Noah looked over at Bert. He didn’t like the way he said “the girl.” Made him feel uncomfortable. Like she was an object. But maybe he was just reading too much into things. His instincts had proven wrong in the past. Besides, trusting outsiders wasn’t exactly his strong point.

  “I guess she did,” he said.

  Bert looked at Noah a little too long as they sat around this campfire. There were more fires like this around them. People sitting around them, the smell of smoke in the air.

  And then he smiled and clapped his hands together theatrically. “Sounds like a noble cause!”

  Noah nodded. Bert kept on looking at him. And Noah just got this sense he wasn’t being totally honest. Totally sincere.

  “So how long are you planning on staying with us?” Bert asked.

  Noah shrugged. “The sooner we can move on, the better.”

  Tracey puffed out her lips. “Wow. Sick of us already?”

  “I don’t mean it like that. Just... Well, the sooner I can get Iqrah where she needs to go, the better. For both of us.”

  “And what happens to you when you get her there?”

  “Huh?”

  Tracey leaned forward. “When you get Iqrah to where she needs to be. What’s next? For you?”

  Noah opened his mouth. And for the first time in a long time, he realised he truly wasn’t sure.

  A part of him wanted to get Iqrah to her family then be done with it. Move on. Live a new, low-key life himself.

  But another part of him started speaking up. Rearing its head.

  “I don’t know,” Noah said. “But I guess... I guess I’ll figure that out when I get there.”

  Tracey smiled. Nodded. Like she knew his answer already.

  And Noah realised something inside him was changing.

  Something was shifting.

  Iqrah.

  He felt a connection.

  An attachment.

  An urge to protect, where he’d failed to protect in the past.

  “Well,” Tracey said. “I’d better be getting some sleep. You should too. You look knackered.”

  Bert clapped again. “I can second that motion.”

  The pair of them stood up. Tracey shook Noah’s hand. Then Bert followed. Put his slimy, cold hand in Noah’s palm. It felt like a limp, dead fish.

  “It’s truly wonderful to meet you, Noah. And I’m sure Iqrah is in safe hands with you.”

  Noah held Bert’s hand. Shook it. Nodded back. “Thanks for your hospitality.”

  Bert stared at Noah again, a little longer than was comfortable.

  And then he smiled. Looked away.

  Turned towards the tents.

  “Goodnight, Noah,” he said. “Sleep well.”

  He watched Bert disappear towards the tents.

  Looked over at Iqrah’s tent.

  Heard Bruno growl a little, right by his side, as a breeze brushed through the trees.

  He knew one thing was for sure, as he watched Bert glance over his shoulder as he headed into his tent.

  He wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Noah knew he should probably get some rest, but he couldn’t help checking in on Iqrah.

  She lay on a mattress on the tent floor. Looked fast asleep. Light sound of breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

  He looked down at her as she lay there, and he found himself smiling. The people at the camp had stitched her neck up. She wasn’t out of the woods, but she was going to be okay. Noah just knew it.

  They were good to her here. And as much as he didn’t trust that Bert guy, perhaps that was just trepidation on his part. Reluctance to trust.

  But ultimately, Noah knew what the problem was.

  His fear of responsibility. The deep guilt embedded inside him, right from his past, because of all the things that’d happened.

  He didn’t feel comfortable being responsible for Iqrah. And as he stood there at the tent opening, he felt himself at a crossroads once more.

  He could walk away right now. Leave Iqrah in the hands of Tracey and her people. She was out of the way here. Deep in No Man’s Land. Besides, the Society guards were after him. They’d put the pair of them together. Leaving her here could be a good diversion.

  But then… her parents were out there. And if Noah had learned one thing about Iqrah, it was that she wasn’t going to give up her search for them.

  And Noah had his doubts they were even out there still. He imagined groups on No Man’s Land moving on all the time, never staying settled down. Besides, things changed very quickly out here. They might not even be alive anymore.

  He looked down at Iqrah, lying there in the darkness, and he felt deeply uncomfortable about the feeling inside him.

  That sense of duty.

  That sense of responsibility.

  That sense that she was his to look out for now.

  He turned around and went to leave the tent when he heard her turn over.

  “Noah?”

  He stopped. Thought about pretending he hadn’t heard her.

  Then he looked back at her. Not directly into her eyes, just below. “Just checking you were okay. Get some sleep.”

  “Will you sit with me for a while?”

  Noah scratched the back of his neck. “It’s late. We should both really get some rest.”

  “Please. Sit with me for a while. I… I guess I just want someone to talk to. I don’t want to be alone. Not again.”

  He looked into Iqrah’s eyes now, glowing in the moonlight. And again, he was reminded that she was just a child. Just a kid who’d been through hell. A kid who’d been through all kinds of trauma and pain.

  The least he could do for her was just sit with her a while.

  He sighed. Walked over to her. “Okay. But literally just for five minutes. We’ve got to get some rest. Long road ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “Does that mean you are coming to Blackpool with me?”

  Noah sat. “I guess it does. Not something I’m thrilled about, to be honest. Used to hate Blackpool as a kid.”

  “What? You’re insane. Blackpool’s amazing. The beach. The roller coasters… it’s the best place in the world!”

  Noah snorted.

  “What’re you laughing at?”

  “Nothing. Just… Hell, Blackpool should think about hiring you for their tourist board. I don’t even think Blackpool’s as enthusiastic about Blackpool as you are.”

  “Well I think you’re just grumpy,” she said.

  Noah nodded. Looked around this dark tent. Wind howling outside. “Maybe so.”

  He sat there a while, somewhat awkwardly, not saying a thing. The longer the silence went on, the more determined he was to fill it. But then he knew filling that silence was dangerous. Because filling that silence made this about more than just duty to a kid. It made it personal.

  Noah found himself breaking the silence.

  “Did you know?” he asked.

  “W
hat?”

  “What you did to Tracey. The way you… changed her. From infected to cured, just like that. Did you know?”

  Iqrah stared off into the darkness, swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know I can do things I thought nobody else could do. I had a feeling I could… do this. But I don’t know. I don’t, like, make myself do it. I just kind of… fall into a place. Anyway. You’ll know what I’m talking about.”

  Noah glanced away.

  “Why are you so afraid of it?” she asked.

  He thought of Kelly. Of Edward. The people he’d lost, because he’d grown too confident in those abilities while failing to truly understand them. “Aren’t you afraid of it?”

  “Yes,” Iqrah said. “But I’ve got it. I’m stuck with it. And it could… I don’t know. I know it could help a lot of people. I know being at the labs would probably be good for the world. But I want to live, too. I want to live. And I don’t want them to get bored testing on me and finding something better than me and… yeah.”

  Noah didn’t speak, then. He could get it. This girl was mature, but she was still just a kid. A kid who’d had everything taken from her. If she deserved one thing, it was a life.

  There was silence again. This time, it was Iqrah who broke it.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  Noah looked at her. “What?”

  “I don’t know anything about you. But I… I want to know your story. Your friends. Family. Life. Love. All of it.”

  Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s definitely too late for stories.”

  “Your hand. What happened there?”

  Noah looked down at the stump where his left hand once was and sighed. “I suppose I got into some kind of accident.”

  “So much mystery.”

  “Look. I’m just not very comfortable talking about my past, okay?”

  “You lost a lot of people. You probably had a lot of friends once. You seem like a nice person. But things just got… tough, for you.”

  Noah felt his cheeks flushing. “I’d really rather not talk about this.”

  “You lost people you loved, didn’t you?”

  “Iqrah, get some sleep. It’s late.”

  “You lost people you—”

  “I fucking lost everything, okay?”

  Iqrah stared back at him. Wide-eyed.

  His heart pounded. His chest tightened. He felt nothing inside but loss. Nothing but pain.

  And he couldn’t hold it back.

  “I lost my parents. I lost my family. I lost my friends. I lost the love of my goddamned life. Fuck, I lost my dog earlier today, and I haven’t even had chance to process that. So yeah. I’ve lost a lot, kid. A hell of a lot. And that’s why I’m going to get you to where you need to go and then I’m going to move on. Because I’m sick of losing. When you haven’t got anything to lose… well, fuck. Life’s just better that way. Sleep, kid. It’s late.”

  He walked over to the tent opening. Felt a little guilty about his rant but wasn’t in a mood for apologising.

  “You think you’re the only one who lost everything?”

  Noah stopped. Closed his burning eyes. “Kid, don’t do this now.”

  “I lost everything too. I had a nice life. I had loving parents and amazing friends. And I lost them all. Well, my friends, anyway. I saw one friend cracking my other friend’s skull open. But my parents and me, we stayed together after that. We stayed together and fought for all these years. I saw so many people die. People I cared about. Family. Grandma. So many people. And then they came for me and took me away and… and I was on my own. For a year. For a whole year. And now I’m on my own again, out here. I know I might never find them again. I’m not stupid. But I can’t just give up. I can’t just quit. Because you’re… you’re wrong. Life’s not better when you’ve got nothing to lose. Life’s… life’s all about what you’ve got. Even though it might go away at any minute, you’ve still got to make the most of it. Otherwise, it’s not life at all.”

  Noah stood there at the tent opening. Looked out at the stars. At this camp, so quiet and peaceful in the middle of the woods.

  “My mum once told me we can’t live with the fear of ‘what if?’,” Iqrah said. “You have to learn to enjoy the moment. Because everything goes away. We just have to deal with it.”

  He wanted to turn around to Iqrah. To apologise to her. To tell her how sorry he was.

  In the end, he just looked back.

  Looked right into her eyes, his own eyes clouding, tearful.

  “I’ll do my best for you, kid. I promise.”

  And then he turned around and stepped out of the tent, walking towards his own.

  He wanted to believe he wasn’t getting attached.

  He wanted to believe he wasn’t responsible for anyone but himself and Bruno.

  But those words kept replaying in his head and telling him that wasn’t true.

  We can’t live with the fear of ‘what if?’. You have to learn to enjoy the moment. Because everything goes away. We just have to deal with it.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bert watched Noah walk back to his tent and knew it was time.

  The moon cast a bright light over their camp. Looking around, seeing the tents, Bert was always filled with such pride about the home his people had managed to craft for themselves. Of course, they had to keep moving from time to time. That was just the nature of survival in No Man’s Land. There were groups out there hellbent on hunting you down, because as far as the Society saw it, if you were out here, you were tainted by the infection whether you liked it or not.

  And then there was the infected themselves.

  Bert looked across the camp, over at the trees. Watched them quiver in the breeze. There was always a sense of vulnerability when you were surviving out here. You could never allow yourself to get too complacent. Complacency was the Devil. A dangerous game. You always had to stay alert in this world. Always.

  And that’s why Bert had a secret.

  He looked around towards the back of his tent. Quite a sparse place. He always had been a minimalist, after all. Didn’t like too much clutter. Made it so he could take off whenever he needed to, too. Having less stuff meant you were always game to get going at a moment’s notice. You could always depart. You could always leave. Better to carry nothing but memories around; nothing but essentials.

  He walked over to the back of his tent and reached under his bed. Rustled around under there for a while. He didn’t want anyone to find what he was looking for. He didn’t want them to know about his secret. But the truth was, his secret kept them safe. His secret kept them alive.

  His secret was why the Society didn’t come looking.

  He felt the cold touch of metal against his fingertips and smiled.

  He reached further under and pulled the item out.

  It was a radio. Wireless. Fancy Society technology. He didn’t know how it worked. He wasn’t into the details of technology. Bit of a luddite like that.

  What mattered was that at the press of a large, red button, he could be in contact with the Society.

  He could tell them when his community needed help clearing out infected. Or when they were running low on food. And they would make sure they saw to him and his people, without anyone else knowing.

  But it wasn’t for free. There was a price.

  And that price was total compliance with Society orders.

  That meant watching. Researching. Investigating the changes in the progression of the infection. Occasionally sacrificing his own people in the name of medical research. Being forced to explain why children had suddenly gone missing overnight.

  It wasn’t a nice game. It was a dirty game. And he would live with the guilt of his actions for the rest of his life.

  But he was doing the right thing for society. The right thing for humanity.

  He had to tell himself that. He had to believe it.

  He looked back over his shoulder, over to that tent entrance.<
br />
  The girl. The one Tracey had brought here. She was special. And he’d got a signal earlier to keep an eye out for someone matching her description. She was important to the Society. Important to the damned world.

  And as much as he felt sympathetic towards that girl in her undoubtedly desperate attempts to reunite with her family… he couldn’t just ignore her. He couldn’t ignore her strengths. Her usefulness. Her abilities—remarkable ones at that.

  Abilities that could change the world.

  Abilities that could change everything.

  He went to press down the button when he heard his long-lost wife’s voice in his ears.

  “Do the right thing, Bert. Follow your heart and do the right thing. Even if it means losing everything. Be that good person you’ve always been. I love you.”

  He moved his shaking thumb away from that button.

  Tensed his jaw.

  Cynthia was his rock. She kept him grounded. Always reminded him of his duties. His responsibilities.

  But she always reminded him just how good he was, too.

  How deeply, inherently good he was.

  He went to lower the radio when he heard her voice again.

  Do the right thing.

  He gritted his teeth.

  Stared at that radio.

  Heart racing.

  He had to do the right thing.

  Even if he lost everything.

  But sometimes, the right thing wasn’t so clear.

  He took a deep breath, and he hit that large red button in the middle of the radio.

  Heard a sudden blast of static.

  A few bleeps.

  Then, silence and a voice.

  “Yes?”

  Bert swallowed a lump. His throat was dry. He could barely say a thing.

  “You there?”

  “Yes,” he said, taking a few deep breaths, calming himself. “Yes, I am. I have a problem. The girl. The one you said to look out for. She’s right here at our camp.”

  A pause.

  A crackle of static.

  “What would you like me to do with her?” Bert asked.

  More silence.

  And then: “We’ll be with you.”

  “With me? What—”

 

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