by Casey, Ryan
Iqrah’s stomach sank.
Fear took over.
She wanted to scream.
Doctor Fitzpatrick chuckled a little. Lowered the ‘crown.’ “Sleep well, dear. Tomorrow is going to be a very big day for humanity. And you are right at the centre of it. You, and your good friend, Noah.”
Noah? What did he mean by that? Was Noah here? Was he in danger?
She tried to break free as Doctor Fitzpatrick turned around. Disappeared from view.
The lights went out.
Silence filled the room.
And all Iqrah wanted to do was scream.
Chapter Forty
Noah stood at the gates of the Eastbrook Industrial Estate and prepared for a journey he wasn’t sure he was going to make.
It was still morning. He’d had some breakfast, then got himself packed up and armed, ready for his journey. A lot of the folks here seemed nice, and all seemed keen on him staying around. But he had to look them in the eye and tell them he couldn’t. He had a journey to make. A journey with a greater purpose.
But there was still one thing holding him back.
He looked down at Bruno, standing there beside him, wagging his tail. Happy as ever. He didn’t want to part with him. Didn’t want to leave him behind.
But he knew it might just be the difficult decision he had to make right now.
He crouched down. Stroked Bruno’s fur. Scuffled it up. “You’re gonna be safe here, lad. You remember Kelly, right? She’s a good’un. Bit of a tyrant when she doesn’t get her own way, but a good’un. You two’ll get along well.”
Bruno tilted his head. Kept on wagging his tail in that way Barney used to like he didn’t totally understand.
Noah leaned in and cuddled Bruno tight. It was hard saying goodbye. It was hard letting go. Especially when he was departing on a journey that, truth be told, he wasn’t sure he was coming back from.
But he’d never been so sure about anything in his life.
So much had changed over the last few days. So much was still so unclear about the path ahead.
But he’d find a way.
He had to find a way.
He couldn’t leave Iqrah behind. He couldn’t leave her in the hands of the Society. That was wrong. Their methods were wrong. Everything about the way they treated people was just wrong.
He cuddled Bruno close. Knowing full well now this wasn’t walking away. This wasn’t leaving him behind. This wasn’t running away from responsibility.
This was dashing towards it. Head on.
He pulled back and saw a figure standing over him.
“Leaving without saying goodbye?”
Noah looked up. Saw Kelly standing there. He stood. Glanced away from her eye. “Sorry to have to leave after such a short stay.”
“Trust me,” she said. “A week around you is more than enough.”
He glanced up at her. Saw that sarcastic smile.
“Look after Bruno, won’t you?”
“You know me,” Kelly said. “Reformed dog lover. Don’t be surprised if you get back and he’s wearing, like, a little shirt or something, though.”
“Do that, and I’ll have to think twice about our friendship.”
He stood there awkwardly a few seconds. Kelly stood there, too. That bridge between them. That gap of awkwardness between them.
“Well,” Kelly said. “Are you going to hug me or something?”
Noah laughed. Then he stepped forward. Held Kelly closely.
A lump swelled in his throat. He swore he felt a dampness of tears on his shoulder. At his feet, Bruno jumped up, scratching his legs.
“I’m so—”
“Don’t be,” Kelly said. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Edward. He could’ve been alive if—”
“And he might still have died if we’d not gone on that road. This is the world we live in. I’ve had time to make peace with what happened. Never got over it. Never stopped grieving. But… it wasn’t your fault, Noah. It was nobody’s fault. Now go on. You go saving this girl and saving the world, or whatever it is you do. And go before I get goddamned emotional too.”
He looked into her eye. Nodded.
And then he looked back down at Bruno. Ruffled his fur again. “I’m gonna miss you, lad.”
He kissed his warm head.
And then he stepped up, and without looking back at the industrial estate again, he walked away, off towards the distance, off towards his next journey.
“And Noah?” Kelly said.
Noah stopped. Looked back.
Her eye was wide. Tearful. Her face looked pale and haunted. “Come back, okay?”
He wanted to say he would. He wanted to make her a promise.
But in the end, he just half-smiled. A knowing half-smile, that he knew she would understand just as well as he did.
She half-smiled back at him. Nodded.
He looked at her. Looked at the compound behind her. Looked at Bruno, tilting his head as he sat at her side.
He took a deep breath of the warm summer air, and then he turned around.
It was time to save Iqrah.
It was time to do what he had to do.
Even if it was the last thing he did.
Chapter Forty-One
Shelley looked down through the scope of her rifle over the hill at the industrial estate and felt a smile creep across her face.
It was a beautiful morning. Real fresh. Warmth to the air that told of a damned nice day to come. Honestly, though, Shelley found the nice days overrated. They were always too fucking warm, especially dressed in all this thick black gear, carrying rucksacks over her shoulders, and holding on to a heavy-ass rifle.
But today, she didn’t complain about any of that.
Because today, she was finally going to find a new purpose for that fucker who kidnapped Iqrah.
She was pretty sure that cunt died when she popped two bullets in his chest. No way he was getting out of that dirty sewer, and if he did, he was gonna be infected from head to toe with all the nastiness in there.
But tracking said differently. Said he’d got right out of that sewer and found his way to some nice little No Man’s Land compound, right on the edge of nowhere.
She felt annoyed, initially. Pretty fucking pissed. She didn’t like that guy. Smarmy face. Arrogant attitude. And the thought he’d had one last laugh over her by surviving just didn’t sit right.
But then she knew she needed to let that shit go. Iqrah was the priority. She’d got the girl, taken her back to the labs, and all was dandy. It was time to crack on with life and let that creepy-ass Noah fucker do whatever he wanted.
Only there had been a discovery.
Noah. The man who’d kidnapped Iqrah. Turned out, he’d been in an early Society lab once upon a time, many years ago. Held captive by a dude called Doctor Jenkinson, who sounded as creepy as they got, but then men were all creeps anyway, especially when they had some kind of power.
But anyway. This Noah dude. There was a whole load of notes on him backed up onto their systems. Notes that had gone awol for years.
But notes that changed everything.
See, this Noah guy. He was different. And not different in the same way as a lot of people were—resistant, manipulated the virus, that kind of shit.
Noah was different in an Iqrah way.
He had the potential to do what she did. To control the virus. To infect the uninfected at will.
And he had the potential to reverse the virus, too.
A potential he hadn’t tapped into yet.
Shelley sighed as she stared down at the compound. She’d thought about killing Noah a lot. But capturing him? Locking him away in a lab and forcing him to stare at his little princess as the blood got squeezed out of her orange of a brain, before facing the same fate himself?
Yeah, that sounded goddamned appealing.
She thought about Iqrah and felt a twinge of guilt. Apparently, they’d figured out a way to ta
p into her abilities. A way to extract them from the kid. Shelley didn’t really understand how it worked. Better to leave the science to those who knew what the hell they were on about.
But this kid. She felt kind of bad for her in a weird, unexpected way. She was a wriggly fucker, that was for sure. And she sure didn’t appreciate her giving Shelley and her people the runaround last week.
But did any kid deserve that kind of fate? Really?
She shuddered. Hell, guilt was pointless. Never got nobody anywhere.
Besides. She was a miserable cunt. World was probably a better place without her in it.
She licked her lips as she looked down the slope towards this compound. Saw Noah standing there, right away. Cuddling his dog. Then standing up and saying his goodbyes to this mystery blonde bitch.
She watched them talk with one another, watched them say their goodbyes.
Then she watched Noah turn and face the unknown.
She watched him stand there through the scope of her rifle. Watched him take a nice theatrical deep breath like he was a goddamned hero in a story.
And then she watched him walk away.
She lowered her rifle.
Crouched there, her focus firmly on that fucker.
She was going to catch him.
She was going to take him in.
And she was going to make sure he regretted the day he’d ever taken young Iqrah Shah for a wander in the woods.
Chapter Forty-Two
Noah walked off towards the unknown, and right away, he felt like something wasn’t quite right.
The day was a gorgeous one. Beaming sun blared down, warm on his sunburned face. He felt slightly more exhausted than he usually would walking such a short distance. Figured it was probably to do with the gunshots. No doubt you didn’t just recover from that kind of shit overnight. He figured he’d been pretty lucky on that front so far. Losing an arm, surviving gunshots... he was beginning to think he had some kind of nine life thing going on.
But there was still that unending sense that everything could just go wrong, could just collapse, at any damned moment.
And right now, he felt fearful.
He stopped. Looked at the empty streets surrounding him. It was an old suburban high street. A boarded-up pub on his right, weeds growing to insane heights through the cracked beer garden flags. An old coffee shop on the left, parasols still open like this was just an ordinary day. Smashed coffee cups lining the outdoor sitting space. A splash of blood across the tinted windows.
There wasn’t anything particularly unusual about this high street. There were plenty like this he’d seen, even before the Society goons separated everyone into their districts, back when everywhere was No Man’s Land.
But Noah just had a feeling like something was off.
Like someone was watching.
Like something was coming.
Someone was coming.
He stood there in the middle of the street. Looked down to his side, somewhat instinctively. He’d grown so used to at least one dog being there. It didn’t seem right without one. He told himself he didn’t mind being alone. Told himself he was a Lone Ranger like that.
But he was beginning to doubt that now.
He missed his dogs. He missed Barney. And he missed Bruno.
He wished he was here with him right now.
He walked down through this empty street. He still had no idea how he was going to go about this. Part of him thought about heading over Blackpool way and seeing if he could find any trace of Iqrah’s family or the group they were with. But time was also of the essence. It felt like he’d let too long pass already. Felt like he couldn’t waste any more time. There was an urgency he couldn’t explain. A deep sense somewhere within that time to save Iqrah was running out—if it hadn’t already run out.
He’d wasted too much time already. He couldn’t waste any more.
He walked down the middle of the street when he saw movement up ahead.
He froze. Lifted his rifle, one he’d been given by Kelly’s people. They didn’t have loads in the way of guns or ammunition. But Kelly had a word. Made it clear how important Noah’s journey was.
Also might’ve made some faint promise that he’d take it back, something he wasn’t sure he could stand by.
Hell. He wasn’t sure he was going to get back. Let alone that rifle.
He squinted up ahead, over where he’d seen that movement. Could be crows. Could be dogs. But they could be dangerous themselves, so he had to watch out. They could be infected. Or hungry. Either were problems.
He walked a little further down the street when he saw the movement again.
It was over by an old estate agent, metal shutters hanging over the windows. It looked like more like an animal than a person, or an infected, which was somewhat reassuring at least.
He walked a little further down the street, always keeping his eyes on that storefront, when he saw more movement on the left of the road.
He looked around. A chair in front of an old micro pub, tumbling to the ground, rolling on its side.
No doubt about it. Someone was here. He wasn’t alone.
Someone was watching.
He lifted his rifle. Pointed it ahead. Not sure where to look. Not sure which direction to be more aware of. More afraid of.
He kept walking all the time. The only sound his footsteps echoing against the concrete. His heavy, shaking breathing.
Just had to get through this town.
Just had to get through it, then he could focus on finding Iqrah.
He could focus on finding the labs.
He could focus on the next stage of his pl...
Up ahead.
Infected.
Three of them, stumbling towards him.
He gritted his teeth. Lifted his rifle. Pop them or try to control them somehow? Try to channel those abilities he knew he needed to start accepting rather than running away from?
No. Not yet. He needed his energy. He needed his strength.
He pulled the trigger. Popped the first two.
Then he saw a couple more emerging from the right. Greying. Intestines dangling from their insides. Looks of agony on their blank faces.
He went to pop a few more when he noticed something.
His rifle.
It was fucked already.
Jammed.
He lowered the rifle. “Shit, Kelly. Trust you to make shit difficult for me. Just add an extra layer of difficulty, why don’t you?”
He stood there. Infected running from the alleyways. Another couple from behind a few cars up ahead. And as he stood there, he knew he had no choice now. No choice but to tap into that energy. No choice but to face up to his fears. To his responsibility.
He closed his eyes, focused on the present... and he felt something different.
He couldn’t explain it in words. But it just felt like there was something else there. Like there was another sense, out there in his consciousness, waiting for him to reach into.
He hadn’t seen it before.
It scared him.
But something drew him towards it.
Something made him want to—
A gasp.
A snarl.
Footsteps just inches away.
He opened his eyes.
The infected so close.
Closed them again.
He knew what he had to tap into.
He knew what he needed to do.
He gritted his teeth, and he sunk into that place.
First, darkness.
Then, a gentle tingling, right through his body.
Like energy warping its way through him.
Screaming.
Crying.
Laughter.
He opened his eyes.
The infected were in front of him.
Only they were... different.
Some of them, the more decayed ones, lay dead.
But four of them stood there and stared back at him.
/>
A life to their eyes.
A light to their eyes.
“What did you do?” an old, greying man asked. “What did you...”
Noah didn’t hear anything else.
He couldn’t.
Because when he looked at these infected—some of them cured, some of them dead—he understood.
He didn’t know how it was possible. But he understood.
The infected.
They’d died, or they’d turned back to normal.
Just like when he’d been with Iqrah.
His heart pounded.
His mouth went dry.
Did that mean what he thought it meant?
Did it mean... he could do what she could do?
He went to open his mouth to speak to these healed folks when he heard a blast.
The old man’s head popped.
Blood splattered from the face of a woman, previously reborn.
And then the other two, both desperately attempting to scramble away, fell, one by one.
He lifted his rifle instinctively, even though he knew he was fucked.
And then he heard footsteps creep up on him, right behind him, before he could do a thing about it.
“I don’t think so, sport,” a woman’s voice said.
He felt a sharp pain dig right into his neck.
Felt a cool fluid enter his bloodstream.
He felt himself growing dizzy, growing distant, growing weak.
Felt himself falling, looking up, seeing those piercing green eyes of that woman above him.
And as much as he struggled to stay on his feet, as much as he tried to tap into that rare place, once again... he found himself falling to the ground, falling into the blackness.
Falling into the fear.
Chapter Forty-Three
Noah opened his eyes.
He was strapped down to some kind of metal table. A bright light beamed down from above. He tried to move his body and legs, but with no luck. A faint taste of blood and vomit lined the back of his throat. What’d happened to him? How’d he ended up here?
He tried to look around, but he couldn’t move his neck either. But the more time he spent lying here, the more he began to realise that he’d been captured. Faint, blurry memories returning to the forefront of his consciousness. Someone had captured him while he was on the road. They’d rammed a syringe into his neck, sent him falling to his knees.
