A small hand snaked within her own, the fingers coarse and pitted with the harsh crust that had formed there. Jessica looked down at the girl, knew her name, felt the skin touching her own begin to soften.
“I can feel it,” Lizzy said, almost excited. Jessica lifted the girl’s hand, the palm and tiny fingers regaining some of their pinkness. With her free hand, Jessica caressed the child’s cheek, the solid layer cracking, fresh skin erupting from beneath as the protective layer broke away. The new skin would still bake, it would just take longer, as if the temperature in the oven they were in could be reduced. And every time they returned, the torture would be a little less, the minds of the immune realising that this place was created by their own thoughts.
By whatever madness controlled their time here, they had the power to shape the world around them. If only they could just believe.
Jessica saw it all, the evolution that the virus was creating. It threatened to destroy all of mankind, but in doing so, it was making afresh those who had the ability to survive, shaping their minds for the world to come. Here they had been tested, the guilt that humanity held in their hearts finally stripped from them. No one man had died for their sins here. Instead, thousands had been sacrificed to realise the truth that there was no sin, just a different perspective on the experience that was life.
Most men and women carry their own prisons with them, even those supposedly enlightened to the world. The virus had latched onto that, making this a desert of perdition for all of those who were able to defy the infection. With Jessica’s help, one by one, the immune began to realise this hell was of their own making. It had only taken one of them, Jessica, to have asked the question and they all came to her understanding.
Lizzy picked at a scab that was hanging from her chin and let it drop to the floor. Instead of an eruption of vile, toxic mutation, beauty began to bloom, only to rapidly wither in the oppressive heat. That was okay, they had all seen it, all witnessed the truth that this place had been so eager to hide. Their suffering was the fuel that forged the furnace that entrapped them. All they had to do was reject this traumatic yet tantalising illusion. It might take weeks, even months, but Jessica suddenly knew that this desert would change. Presently a scorched landscape, it would soon become a paradise like the Earth had once been.
Their reward for the trials they had been put through.
All they had to do was to survive to see it happen. If only Azrael was alive to see this. Jessica knew that, despite his emotionless, almost robotic-like persona, seeing true life take hold here would have made Azrael weep. She would have liked to have seen that because it would have meant he would be whole again. The man who had marched off to fight the Horsemen had been a shattered shell, manipulated into being by the worst that humanity could offer. Despite that, Jessica knew that when Azrael died, he had been the best of them.
A man stepped forward to her, his back bowed with the weight of the torment that riddled his flesh.
“I might not have long,” Andy said.
“The undead come for you?” Jessica asked, true sorrow in her voice.
“Worse than that. I was exposed to the virus. The soldiers think I might be infected.”
“Show them you are not,” came Jessica’s insistent advice.
“They might just shoot me anyway.”
“Where are you?” Andy told her, and something clicked in her mind. Was it possible that, as in the desert, they would all be drawn together in the real?
27.08.19
South of Leeds, UK
Jessica woke up to find she wasn’t the only one who had fallen asleep. Although she couldn’t see, she knew it was still dark outside. Billy’s head was resting on her lap, her mother collapsed against her. Jessica tried not to move so as to not disturb anyone. Tom lay on the floor trussed up to prevent him harming himself. She could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, so there was no concern for him other than her worry that his mind was more fragile than she had expected.
The noise in the back of the APC was loud but strangely hypnotic, its motion unhindered by the rails beneath its treads. Nick was sat opposite her, his eyes piercing. She suddenly felt like he was trying to look inside her, to see what was at the very core of who she was.
“You let me sleep,” Jessica said, meeting his stare.
“You looked like you needed it,” Nick added. A few weeks ago, such a comment would have offended Jessica, the implication of what that implied for her appearance clear. She was a different person now, the petty insecurities that had plagued her stripped from a soul that had suffered more than any saint. Never could she have believed that she would be the saviour to thousands of people, and yet here she was, exactly that. The best she could have hoped for was to spare some innocent man or woman an unjust prison sentence. The life she had lived had been meaningless, and yet essential to put her in this spot in time and space.
The law was forgotten to her now, its relevance eradicated along with most of the lives in the country. All those deaths, the ones slaughtered by Susan and her Horsemen, they had all been for a purpose, she saw that now. The Horsemen, in their murderous rampage, had ultimately sacrificed the immune and themselves, all to wake up the sleeping mind that lurked within those who managed to survive. Only the immune were able to unlock that door, their suffering the price they were forced to pay for what was to come. What lay on the other side of that door, Jessica didn’t know, but she suspected the baby in her belly was more important than anyone could ever imagine. Unborn, still hardly noticeable, her growing child was the answer to a question that Jessica had yet to uncover.
“I think I understand things better now,” Jessica said almost cryptically. Nick didn’t ask what she meant, instead he waited for her to carry on speaking. Whatever she wanted to tell him would flow freely, even if it needed time.
The way it looked to her, existence had a meaning, it had purpose. Lately humanity had forgotten that, getting wrapped up in material goods, in the struggle to survive that afflicted billions across the planet. Some claimed to be enlightened by their religious pursuits, but this was just another shell they encased themselves in, a trap of their own making which pulled them into a false understanding. “What do you think the purpose for life is, Nick?”
“Suffering,” Nick said. It was an easy question for him to answer, he’d been asked it several times before. “That’s all we are here for.” Jessica looked at him in awe. That was exactly it, that was exactly the revelation she had been forced to accept.
“You knew,” Jessica said almost in tears, “you knew all along.”
“I think every soldier knows, deep down.”
“But it’s more than that,” Jessica insisted. Through suffering, humans reached moments of decision, points of resistance where they had to either break through or continue on to another level where the suffering increased. My God, it was so simple. “Suffering is what makes us who we are supposed to be, and yet so many of us reject that.” Nick nodded. There were few civilians who would ever be able to understand this. You had to witness the worst that mankind had to inflict for you to truly understand the deepest nature of the beast that chewed at the happiness of life. All animals suffered torment, but only humanity had the brain to try and bring some kind of meaning to it. Only humanity could be shaped and moulded by their pain. Everything about mankind recently had been about making life more bearable, more comfortable. No wonder Lazarus had arrived to teach the sons and daughters of Adam the error of their ways.
“I figured that out when I was doing SAS training. By the time I was through it, I was completely changed. The limits I thought I had no longer applied. I didn’t even fear death anymore.” Nick still didn’t. His death wouldn’t be any great loss to the world.
He leaned across the aisle and grabbed one of her hands. In all the days and hours previous, this was maybe the first sign of affection he had shown her. “For me, it made me cold, reserved. I just didn’t see the point in anything except
being the person I could clearly see that I was. And I knew I couldn’t inflict that on another person in a relationship which is why I chose to stay alone.” That was in a world of Starbucks coffee and social media, not the harsh, pitiless nightmare the Earth had now evolved into.
“You changed that much?” Jessica wondered what the younger Nick would have been like. And what was this man like really? So far, she had only seen the veneer that was so difficult to penetrate.
“As have you. I can see it.”
“I do feel different,” Jessica admitted. She accepted the hands engulfing her own, felt the protection they promised. She had always suspected it, but at that moment, Jessica knew this man would willingly die for her. And he would never ask anything in return.
“That’s because you are,” Nick said. “You’re stronger now, more able to endure.” He was right. Prior to Lazarus she had been weak, vain even. She had been consumed by petty distractions, by dreams and yearnings that held no true purpose other than to quell the desire of an out of control ego. There was none of that now. She was the woman she needed to be to survive in a world of the undead. The woman she needed to be to raise her yet to be born child. “You’re going to be an awesome mum.”
“A baby needs a father though,” Jessica said, the words slipping out of her mouth.
“I think you will do fine without.” Had she just made a statement or a proposition? And if the latter, had he just rejected her?
“What happens when we reach Leeds?”
“I suspect we will all go our separate ways,” Nick warned. Would there be any call for him and his to hang around Jessica and the other civilians? Even the SAS were likely to be swallowed up in the ranks of the army present in Leeds. Did he want to be away from her though? “Unless you wanted to stay together.” They shared a look that Jessica’s mother would have understood had she been awake. Something had just connected between them, a bond sewn by survival and a growing friendship.
Jessica felt the hand holding hers change ever so slightly, the indication in that embrace shifting. Was it wise to go beyond the relationship they presently had? Any one of them could die so easily now, should they add the complication that love so often risked?
“Boss,” the sound of Jeff came from the front of the vehicle. It broke the spell of the moment, something Nick was glad about. This was unfamiliar territory for him, and he needed time to regroup.
“Yeah?”
“Railway is blocked ahead,” Jeff shouted. For fucks sake, thought Nick. Obstacles kept being dumped in their path, their priorities constantly changing. Nobody thought it would be easy to get into Leeds, but they should have at least been able to catch a break now and again. They would need to divert off the rails and find a place to join the M62 motorway which would lead to the GPS coordinates they were given.
Nick might have been a gruff, battle hardened killer, but even he could see something had just blossomed between himself and Jessica. It was probably one of the most terrifying things that had ever happened to him.
27.08.19
Leeds, UK
Andy felt strangely rested, despite the chill in the air and the hard ground beneath him. He wasn’t alone in the wire enclosure, but those with him kept their distance, allowing him his own corner of the makeshift prison. Things might have been different had there not been armed guards standing vigil within people’s line of sight. The gear Andy was wearing made it clear he was one of the oppressors, one of those who had put everyone’s lives in ultimate peril. Actually, even without the soldiers, they probably would have left him alone, despite the hate he instilled in them. Coated in the blood of the undead, nobody had wanted to get anywhere near him.
There was a case for taking off the protective NBC suit, but it gave him some insulation from the cold that persisted in the air. He had at least been allowed to wash his face, the empty bottle of water and the rag they had given him discarded by his side. Small gestures like this had been so noticeably absent from Leeds the last few days.
It was clear to Andy that people like him were not popular with those who were trapped in the confining cage with him. He had initially been concerned they would have turned their ire on him, but the only thing his fellow prisoners assaulted Andy with were thus their hateful stares. He could live with that. And really, he didn’t blame them. They would soon be dead, all twelve of them, all evidently just waiting for the executioner’s bullet. If Andy had been in their shoes, he liked to think he would have gone down fighting, although perhaps he was fooling himself. He was certain his fate was different though, because he was immune.
Maybe that’s what everyone told themselves prior to being marched off to their death. Hope persisted in them all that they might still get through this. How easy it was to believe a fool’s dream.
Andy could understand their feelings of resentment. They felt betrayed, abandoned, just as Andy now did. He had been dragged into this, had done everything asked of him, and now he was trapped without food or basic toilet facilities. It was a good job he wasn’t shy; twice now he’d had to stand up and piss out of the fencing, exposing himself to any passer-by. The designers of this system had accounted for that, every hour someone would walk the enclosure’s perimeter spraying bleach to mop up any errant Lazarus. How much bleach did the soldiers have, Andy wondered, and what would they do when all their stores were used up? With no means of production for much of the everyday essentials, humanity would rapidly turn into scavengers, scouring the land for the stuff they needed to survive. In doing so it was inevitable that they would start to feed off each other. The present rationing would work until the soldiers themselves could no longer abide by it. Until the undead finally came that was, because then it wouldn’t matter anymore.
Being stuck here had at least given him time to think. Things had happened so quickly the last few days, he’d got totally caught up in it. He’d been lucky that he had been chosen as one of the few with privileged status, but that had also damned him. As much as he had liked what he had been asked to do, he wondered if perhaps that was ultimately a detriment to him. He had the right stuff to survive this hell on Earth, but he was different now. The person who he had once been could never be reclaimed. Andy wasn’t sure which was the better human being?
The people trapped here with him came and went, fresh faces arriving to abhor his presence. Two had died in the night, their reanimated corpses dealt with quickly by the guards who had been on edge anyway due to the zombie outbreak. The bodies of the dead had been left there to rot until it was time to send those present for disposal. That time was now, apparently, everyone but Andy about to be removed.
Even with the mask on, Andy recognised Gary standing with three others. The door to the enclosure was on the other side to Andy, so he watched in silence as the police sergeant ordered the rest of the occupants to stand. Eleven of them did, but one either wouldn’t or couldn’t. The woman looked ill, and tired, and she just shook her head weakly.
“Ma’am you need to stand up,” a soldier said, stepping closer to the wire.
“Why?” the woman asked, the words barely managing to escape her lips. She didn’t have long left, and she knew it, the skin blackening with the last stages of the infection.
“Last warning,” the soldier said.
“Go fuck yourself,” the woman managed, only for the bullet to end her life. It was impossible to see the soldier’s face, but the way he stood told Andy everything he needed to know. The soldier would suffer mentally for what he had just done, forced into a duty he knew was essential and yet objected to on a subconscious level. The soldier would try and drown out the voices with alcohol, or other drugs that were available, but those voices would not be silenced. The soldiers pulling this kind of duty were dehumanising themselves. The other prisoners barely reacted. What traumas had they already been subjected to?
“Move it out,” Gary ordered, opening the wire door. The fencing was thick, topped with razor wire and firmly secured at the base. The
only way in and out was through the door Gary was now holding. Andy suddenly wondered if he would ever stand on the other side of it.
“And me?” Andy asked.
“Not you,” Gary said without looking at him. More waiting around then. Perhaps he should try and get back to sleep. Since his last visit, the prospects of the desert now excited him. Could they really transform that place? Would that ultimately be their escape from this living hell?
It was another hour before someone spoke to him again. In that hour he had been the sole occupant of the cage, no more of the condemned being brought to replace those that were now dead and lying in the well-used ditch in the copse. With boredom his only companion, Andy had been drifting off again, his back pressed against the hard, cold steel that held him trapped. He didn’t deserve to be condemned like this, which meant that nobody did. He could see now that it was better for society to fall than descend into this totalitarian shit hole.
“Andy,” the voice said, causing Andy to strain his neck. Behind him stood the captain who had conscripted and promoted him. Andy stood, his limbs painful and sore, his joints stiff from the cold. This would be it, the moment Andy learnt what his fate was to be.
“Frank, sorry about this.” Andy had been contaminated hours ago, the evidence of him being immune increasing with every second that passed.
“I’m told you claim to be immune.” Frank looked sceptical.
“I reckon I am,” Andy said. “I’ve been exposed to zombie blood twice now, and I’m still here.”
“Would have been nice if you’d told me,” Frank pointed out. “You’ve made me look bad to my superiors.” Was that all he cared about, saving face? Andy’s life was on the line, didn’t that matter for anything?
“Sorry.” Andy threw that in, although he didn’t mean it. “It’s a shame for all concerned that you didn’t just leave me be.” That might not have been the wisest thing for him to say, but he felt it needed saying anyway. One man less wouldn’t have any impact on the fate of Leeds. They could have left him be to fend for himself.
The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 5): The Last Page 21
