Contamination

by Ryan Casey

  That’s when she heard it.

  The banging on the door.

  All the hairs on her arms stood on end.

  She turned around. Barney rushed towards the door. Jumped up at it. Growled. Barked.

  She stood there. Heart racing. Not saying a word. She didn’t know what to say. And neither did Noah, by the sounds of things.

  As she stood there, she just hoped that banging would stop. Hoped whoever was out there would give up. Move on.

  Another scream outside.

  Then a shout.

  A loud, agonised shout. Male, this time.

  Her mouth went dry. Her legs weakened. It felt like this was some kind of nightmare. She needed to snap out of it. She needed to wake up—

  Another bang on the door.

  Then, “Hello?”

  Hearing the voice made Jasmine even more curious. It took her a few moments to realise she recognised it.

  “Steve?” she said.

  Silence, at first.

  Then: “You two need to get out of there. It’s—it’s chaos in the streets. Something’s happening.”

  Jasmine looked at Noah. He was totally pale. He had that look on his face, a look she knew she mirrored. Like this was just typical. One night here and already things were turning to shit. It was like they carried trouble along with them, wherever they went.

  “Seriously,” Steve said. “You need to get out of there right now. Right this damned second. It’s not safe.”

  Jasmine’s instinct was to walk towards that door. Because Steve could be trusted. He was the one who’d let them in to this place, after all. The one who’d opened his arms to them. Told them how much they could help around here. How valuable they could be.

  But there was something bothering her.

  Barney.

  Standing on his back legs. Scraping at the door. Growling. Barking.

  Terrified.

  She’d never seen him like this with anyone before. Not even the postman.

  It’s like he knew something was out there.

  Something bad.

  Noah went to grab the door handle when she reached for his arm.

  He looked around at her. Frowned. “What?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t like this.”

  Another bang on the door. “Shit, guys. Come on. Just open the damned door. Please.”

  Desperation growing in Steve’s voice.

  A change in his tone.

  “You heard him,” Noah said. “We need to get out there. “We need to...”

  And then Jasmine saw something.

  Something that made Noah’s voice fade into the background.

  That made everything fade into the background.

  Under the door, she saw something.

  It was only slight at first. Only gradual.

  But once she noticed it, it was unmistakable.

  Blood.

  Blood, pooling under the crack under the door.

  Seeping across the carpet.

  Heading their way.

  She looked at that blood, listened to Barney’s barking and growling, heard the shouts and the screams outside.

  And she heard something else, too.

  Steve.

  Steve’s heavy breathing.

  A sound out there. Almost like he was whimpering.

  “Please,” he mumbled. “Please...”

  And then he stopped.

  Footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

  Everything outside the room went quiet.

  Barney jumped down from the door. Stepped back, rested his head on his paws and whined.

  Jasmine stayed quiet a while. Listened to that silence in the corridor. Waited for a noise. Waited for some sign of life.

  She looked at Noah.

  He looked back at her. Hand still on that door handle.

  Then she nodded.

  He turned the key in the lock.

  Started lowering the handle—

  The door slammed open.

  Knocked Noah back.

  Smacked against Jasmine’s face.

  She looked up. Dizzy. Dazed. And terrified.

  And when she saw him standing there, she felt like she was falling into a hole in the ground.

  Steve stood before them.

  Face covered in blood.

  A knife in each hand.

  “You bastards,” he said. “You did this. You brought this here. You did this!”

  And then he leaped towards Jasmine and swung both knives right at her.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Eddie saw the man standing opposite, knife in hand, and he almost shat himself right there and then.

  He was a beefy guy. Looked well built, like he worked out a lot. The kind of guy Eddie found difficult not to be envious of. A guy with motivation and self-respect. Always intimidating.

  The first things he looked for now, though, were signs of blood. Signs of infection. Some trace that this guy might go apeshit on him and Kelly with the click of a finger.

  But there was no blood.

  Just... sweat.

  Sweat and sadness in this guy’s eyes. Tears on his cheeks.

  Something clinging to his chin that looked like vomit.

  “It’s okay,” the man muttered. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  And then he turned around, just like that, and went to walk away.

  Eddie wanted to let this guy walk. Damn, he wasn’t in any mood to start mixing with strangers in the night, especially ones who popped up out of nowhere.

  But something stopped him.

  The sadness in that guy’s eyes. That same sadness to his voice.

  And then the pills.

  He wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen the pills clinging to his beard in his vomit. And he’d seen the pills dangling from the guy’s pocket, too.

  He didn’t know what kind of pills they were. But he knew what it looked like when someone tried to take their life. He’d seen it before, closer than he cared to admit.

  “Wait,” Eddie said.

  Kelly shot him a glance. Widened her eyes.

  The bloke stopped. Turned around. Looked back. “What do you want?”

  Eddie didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know if this was the right thing. He just knew that at this moment, he couldn’t let this man walk away. He couldn’t let him just leave. Not with that look in his eyes.

  And not knowing exactly what he’d tried to do.

  “You look like you’ve been through some shit,” Eddie said. “How about you... how about you walk with us for a while?”

  The man narrowed his eyes. Looked closely at Eddie. Like he was trying to find some kind of fault in what Eddie was saying, proposing.

  “How the hell is walking with you going to help me?”

  He turned back around. Started walking on.

  And Eddie wanted to keep following him. He wanted to help this guy.

  Kelly grabbed his arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “This guy needs help. He’s at his wit’s end. Can’t you see it?”

  “He’s not our fucking problem,” Kelly said.

  “And with that attitude, you’re not going to get anywhere in life.”

  He pulled his arm from Kelly and walked after the man. He could tell from the way the guy was walking quicker that he was growing extra pissed with Eddie. And judging by the size of this guy, pissing him off was a risk.

  But it was a risk Eddie knew he had to take.

  He couldn’t just let this guy go in this state of mind.

  “Seriously. You should walk with us for a while. If you’ve got something on your chest, it’ll help to—”

  The man spun around. Squared right up to Eddie. “Nothing will help. Especially not you. So why don’t you back off to wherever the fuck you came from and annoy someone else?”

  Eddie looked into this guy’s bloodshot eyes. Smelled that vomit on his breath. He was shit-scared. He wanted to back off. He wanted to get the hell away f
rom this bloke and heed his warning.

  But he found himself doing something else entirely.

  Something that went totally against his shitty, cowardly instincts.

  “I don’t know what you’re going through,” Eddie said. “But I know it looks like shit. I’m not saying I’ve been through the same shit. Not at all. But I’ve been through shit myself. And if I can promise you one thing, it’s that bottling it up won’t help. You need to talk about it, mate. And we’re here for you. If you want that.”

  The man narrowed his bloodshot eyes even more. His jaw tightened. He went to say something, went to spit something out, like venom. He looked so ready to deck Eddie it wasn’t even funny.

  And then his lips sealed shut.

  He looked away from Eddie.

  “My wife. Then my daughter. Gone. Both of them. Gone.”

  Eddie felt the weight of his past pain building up inside of him. Mum. Dad. Both of them gone. So suddenly. So unexpectedly. His whole life turning upside down.

  “And you can say what you want,” the bloke said. “You can spout whatever bullshit you like. But you don’t understand. Nobody will ever understand. Now leave me the fuck alone. I... I have somewhere I need to be.”

  He turned around again. And once more, Eddie was tempted to let him walk. Tempted to just leave him.

  “I lost my parents one night a few years back,” he said. “Both of them. An accident. Whole life turned upside down overnight. There’s... there’s times when things feel better. A little better, anyway. But it’s still with me. I figure it’ll always be with me. But I’m finding my ways to learn to live with it.”

  The man stopped walking.

  Stared ahead.

  Again, Eddie thought he might shout out. Thought he might flip. Thought he might tell Eddie to get screwed, to leave him alone.

  But something else happened.

  He looked back at Eddie.

  A tear rolling down his face.

  “I don’t deserve your pity.”

  Eddie walked towards him. Kelly still rolling her eyes, still uncertain about all this.

  “I’m not offering any pity, mate,” Eddie said. “I just want you to know that I’ve been in that frame of mind you’re in right now. That frame of mind where nothing ever feels like it’s going to get any better. And I’m not saying it’ll get better. I’m just saying you’ll find ways. And this is the start. This is the first step. The longer you resist that, the harder it’ll be.”

  He stood in front of the man again. Saw the tears rolling down his cheeks. Heard his breathing speeding up. Saw his jaw shaking.

  “I’m Eddie,” he said. “This here’s Kelly. And if you want to talk... you know where we are. We’re both heading the same way anyway. Might as well speak. Right?”

  The man looked away.

  Rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a pained sigh.

  “I just miss them so much.”

  “I know,” Eddie said. “I’m sorry. I know. What’s... what’s your name?”

  He looked up at Eddie.

  Looked like he was going to flip again.

  Looked like he was going to snap.

  “Bruce,” he said.

  Eddie held out a hand.

  Bruce looked at it.

  Then he took it. Reluctantly.

  “Nice to meet you, Bruce,” Eddie said.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  It all happened so fast.

  One second, Noah stood at the door. Listened for a sign of movement out on the corridor.

  Turned that handle, slowly.

  The next thing he knew, the door cracked against his face, knocked him back.

  And Steve was standing there, knives in hand.

  Steve was quite clearly infected. It still terrified Noah seeing someone affected in this psychotic state. Of course, the virus was terrifying enough as it was. But it was the thought of people losing their minds that really got to Noah. The thought of decent, seemingly amicable people suddenly switching into this aggressive, enraged version of themselves.

  Blood smeared across his face.

  Those long teeth snarling.

  Saliva drooling down his elongated chin.

  But it was the tears that really got to Noah.

  Those blood-smeared tears, dripping down his face.

  That remorse.

  And the way he mumbled along to himself. Sad. Pained. Suffering.

  He didn’t know what this guy was going through in his head right now.

  And he didn’t even have much time to sympathise.

  Because before he knew it, Steve was launching himself towards Jasmine, knives in the air.

  Noah didn’t even think.

  He threw himself at Steve.

  Slammed into his side, catching him in mid-air, knocking him down to the floor.

  He landed on top of him. Felt Steve swinging those knives at him, scratching his skin. His heart raced. His body shook all over. He didn’t even know whether he’d been stabbed or not. It was impossible to tell in the heat of the moment.

  Steve kept on swinging those knives at him. Noah clamped on top of him. Wrapped his hands around his throat. His shoulder burned with agony. His face was on fire. Even though he could see the pain in Steve’s bloodshot eyes. Even though he kept on spluttering infectious blood onto Noah’s hands.

  He held on to his neck, tightened his grip. Barney’s barks echoing through the room. The shouts and cries outside blending into the background.

  “Noah!”

  Jasmine.

  He looked around and saw something that filled him with fear.

  There were two more people at the door.

  Covered in blood.

  Muttering to themselves.

  Crying and moaning to themselves.

  And they were closing in on Jasmine.

  Noah let go of Steve’s throat. Went to rush over towards Jasmine. He couldn’t just leave her. He had to help her. He had to—

  Then he felt a sharp pain across his right arm.

  A gash.

  He looked around and saw blood on his arm. A cut across his shirt.

  Sliced at by one of Steve’s knives.

  Steve jumped up to his feet.

  Looked right into Noah’s eyes, toothy smile stretching across his face.

  “You took Jasper away from me. You took him from me, and you’re going to suffer. You’re going to—”

  “I didn’t take Jasper away from you,” Noah shouted.

  Steve stopped. Just for a moment, Noah saw something. Something like clarity in his eyes. Like he’d cut through the violence. He’d cut through the psychosis. And he’d reached something within. Something underneath.

  He looked at Noah with wide, tearful eyes.

  Knives still in hand, but shaky now. Loosening.

  “You—you need to get out of here,” he muttered.

  Noah stepped back a little. Could it be possible? Could this guy actually be breaking through the virus in some way? Was there a way for infected people to find some moment of clarity in the darkness?

  “Noah!” Jasmine shouted.

  He looked around.

  Two people standing opposite her.

  Heading towards her.

  Barney by her side, kicking back, barking, hackles raised.

  And then he looked back at Steve, and he saw something else.

  Steve held out a knife in his shaking hand.

  He kept on yanking it back, pushing it out. Like he was in a battle with his own psyche.

  “Take—take it,” Steve said. “Take it. Now. Now!”

  Noah didn’t even have time to think.

  He grabbed that knife from Steve’s hand.

  Then he ran over to the other side of the room.

  He buried that knife in the neck of the first of the men approaching Jasmine, who fell to the ground, gargling right away.

  The woman turned around. Blood-soaked tears glared at him.

  “My husband,” she cried.
“My—”

  Noah pulled back the knife. Stabbed her in the throat.

  He saw the way her eyes widened.

  The way clarity returned to her gaze.

  The way she looked at him with such sadness.

  Then reached up for her neck as she choked thick red blood.

  “I’m sorry,” Noah said, pulling back the knife.

  She opened her mouth. Tried to say something. Tried to reach out for him.

  And then she slumped to the floor.

  “Noah?” Jasmine said.

  Noah looked around at her. Saw her looking at him with those wide, terrified eyes.

  No…

  She was looking somewhere else.

  Over his shoulder.

  He felt a knot in his stomach tightening as he expected to turn around and see Steve hurtling towards the pair of them.

  But then he saw something else entirely.

  Steve stood opposite them.

  But he had the knife to his own neck.

  “Steve!”

  “Go,” he said. “Leave this place. Before… before it’s too…”

  He pulled the knife away like he was going to use it on them.

  “I was right, Jasmine. I was right.”

  Noah frowned. Looked around at Jasmine.

  “About what?” she asked.

  He looked at Noah then with total clarity.

  “The bodies.”

  And then Steve dragged that blade back towards his neck and cut his throat.

  “Shit,” Noah said. “Fuck.”

  He listened to the blood spurting out of Steve’s neck.

  He listened as Steve’s knees hit the floor.

  He listened to the sound of shouts and cries outside, and he knew there was only one thing they could do next.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Kelly didn’t know what it was about Bruce, but she had a bad feeling about him from the off.

  They’d found an old tennis club hut a few miles down the road from where they’d met him. It was late, and as much as she didn’t think sleep was on the cards any time soon, she had to respect Eddie’s lazy-ass whims. Not to mention his new little project, Bruce.

  She was pissed at Eddie for letting this guy into their circle. He was struggling, sure. Going through some shit, no doubt about it. And that was sad. Hell, everyone had their own sadness to deal with.