by Casey, Ryan
“Then help me understand before I put a bullet in your skull.”
Paul sighed. “There are five types of response to the infection that we have observed. One is immediate death. Probably the most preferable option because it limits the spread. But the virus soon figured that out. So death became… a glitch. And that leads to outcome two. Reanimation. Like a parasite hosting in the dead bodies of people, furthering the spread. The virus’ current method of choice, it seems. Outcome three is the descent into madness. But that has its flaws as it’s far too self-destructive and unreliable. Outcome four, display symptoms for a while but appear to recover quite mysteriously. Kelly, this appears to be the strain you’ve had. I hate to tell you this, but the virus is most probably still coursing through your system. And as long as it is, you are a threat to other people, whether you like it or not. The asymptomatic carrier.”
Kelly raised her eyebrows. She didn’t look too fussed. Like nothing could faze her anymore. “Might’ve known I’d be different. Explains a lot, I guess.”
“And then there’s outcome five… the best outcome of all… the absolute, genius manifestation of this virus.”
“Go on.”
Paul smiled. “Outcome five is you, Noah. Outcome five is the survivor. The immune.”
Noah shook his head. “How do you know that?”
“Because we’ve taken samples of your blood, you idiot. We’ve taken so many samples. We’ve tried so many things. So many ways of trying to awaken the infection in you. But we’ve failed. Every time, we’ve failed. Because there’s something different about you. Something very different.”
Noah stood there. Emptiness filling him up, like a void within.
“What does that mean for us?”
Paul smiled. Shook his head. “It means that if we don’t investigate people like you before it’s too late… if you don’t volunteer yourself to medical science, to the greater good… it’s already too late. For the world.”
Noah felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. He felt strangely selfish. Because as much as he’d been treated like a prisoner, as much as he detested them for what they’d done to him in there, he was a part of a bigger puzzle. He was a part of something far greater than just him. He saw that now. Saw it clearly.
“So why aren’t you volunteering yourself to medical science?” Noah asked. “If you’re all big on this greater good business, why aren’t you contributing?”
“I am contributing. In my own way.”
“And the people you’ve got locked in that basement? The people with their guts hanging out? With their arms stitched onto their chests? Where the fuck does that come into everything?”
Paul shook his head. “You can have all the noble intentions in the world. But sometimes… sometimes, those doing the experiments are more enthusiastic than others.”
Noah listened to the wind. To the silent void forming between him and Kelly.
“What does this mean?” Noah asked.
Paul sighed. “If you ask me, it can only mean one thing. You go back to the compound. Willingly. You apologise for your escape. You tell them you understand. If you’re honest, and if you’re frank, they won’t waste you. Because you’re far too valuable to them for that. Same with you, Kelly. Perhaps not quite as indispensable as your friend here, but you are valuable. We believe you are still infected. We believe you are an asymptomatic carrier. But if there’s the slightest chance you have a form of the virus we might be able to work with, then we absolutely need to investigate that. For the good of humankind.”
Noah stood there and couldn’t believe he was even entertaining going back.
He wanted to stay out here.
He wanted to keep fighting.
He wanted to get away.
But what other choice did he have?”
He looked at Kelly.
Saw the glassiness in her eyes.
Saw the way she looked so torn. So conflicted.
And he felt it too.
And then he looked back at Paul.
“How do I know we can trust you?”
Paul took a deep breath. Sighed. “You don’t. But if you want to live, it’s your only option. Your only hope. Make that call. Make the right decision.”
Noah stood there.
Looked at Paul.
Then the road behind.
Then the road ahead.
He took a deep breath.
And against all his best instincts and judgements, he shook his head.
“Get fucked,” he said. “You’re coming with us.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dr Jenkinson looked out into the distance.
It was a cloudy day. Dark. Grey. The air tasted fresh. But Dr Jenkinson didn’t like it. He’d rather be inside. He’d rather be researching. He’d rather be experimenting. He’d rather be figuring this whole situation out.
Because that’s where he belonged. In the labs. That’s where he’d always belonged.
He took a few deep breaths and stared off into the distance. He knew Paul was missing. He didn’t know what’d happened to him. Not exactly. But he did know he’d triggered his personal alarm just twenty minutes ago. Which meant he was out there. He was alive. He was in danger.
But it was okay because Dr Jenkinson was tracking him.
He knew exactly where he was.
And he was going to get him back here.
He thought about Dr Watson. About what he’d had to do with her. It was a shame. She was a good worker. Loyal, for many a year. Maybe he’d have to do the same with Paul. He’d messed up, too. And there was always a price for messing up.
Besides. When you weren’t infected, you were valuable to medical science, too.
Any extra person to volunteer themselves—or be volunteered—in the name of medical science was always a bonus.
Plenty of opportunities to test on the previously uninfected.
Golden opportunities.
Swings and roundabouts.
He licked his lips and thought about the incident inside the compound. It was an accident. A tragic accident. But things were under control now.
Any other accidents like that, though, and things could be even worse next time.
He thought about the virus, then. About Trojan. Its origins. Its rapid spread. Its inconsistency. Its determination. Its beauty.
And in a sense, he admired it. Humanity was the original conquerer. It had never had a rival like Trojan in all its lifespan.
A reminder of the powerful forces of nature hiding just out of sight, waiting to resurface.
And sure. For the sake of the world, he was fearful.
Very fearful.
Because this virus could spell the end of humanity.
But in a way, he saw beauty to Trojan, too.
The culling of billions.
Maybe that would prove beneficial to the world.
The issues of climate change. The issues of 0verpopulation. The issues of hunger and famine and the extinction of so many beautiful species.
All of it could be sorted with a good cull.
So at least they had that to go on.
Just enough.
Wipe out just enough.
And then try and distribute some kind of vaccine to those left standing.
He took another deep breath and sighed. He knew there was a long road ahead. He knew there was going to be a lot more pain. A lot more suffering. Only six weeks in, and he knew millions were dead already.
But together with his colleagues across the world—all of them in an arms race to find some kind of vaccine or cure—he would resolve it.
He would resolve it.
And he would go down in history as a hero.
He looked at the monitor in his hand.
Looked at that blinking red light, five miles from their location.
And then he heard the footsteps either side of him.
The three armed guards.
The best in the business.
Matt.<
br />
Bert.
Cara.
“Bring Paul back here,” he said. “And make sure you bring the other two back, too. Alive. It’s about time we showed them just how easy they’ve had things these last few weeks.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Eddie heard the footsteps in the woods getting closer, and he knew they were in deep shit.
It was all so fresh. All so raw. Reaching Harold. Finding him kneeling there with blood streaming down his face. Zelda shooting him before he could attack.
And Eddie had felt so bad for him. So much pain for Tim. Eddie himself felt like he was only just getting to know Harold, and suddenly he was gone.
And Tim was alone with him, Barney, and Zelda now.
Zelda looked around. Faced the trees. Pointed her rifle off into the unknown. Those footsteps. Getting closer. The branches shaking in the breeze. No snarls. Nothing like that.
Just movement.
Tim sat on his knees by his uncle’s side. It was like he wanted to reach out to him, wanted to touch him, but knew he couldn’t for risk of infection. Eddie didn’t even know how the virus spread. Sometimes it seemed airborne. Sometimes by touch, or whatever. Nobody really understood, as far as he was aware anyway.
But someone was out there.
And they were getting closer.
“Any objections to me firing wildly into the trees?” Zelda asked.
Eddie looked at where he thought the footsteps were coming from. Every time he thought he focused on them, thought he knew where they were, his attention shifted. He looked around. Over his shoulder. Maybe they sounded like they were from everywhere because they were everywhere. Maybe they were closing in.
He held his breath. Watched. Waited. Listened to the breeze. To the footsteps. To Barney, standing there, growling. To Tim’s sobs, as Uncle Harold lay, bloodied and twitching.
“Fuck this,” Zelda said. “I’m gonna—”
“Hold your fire!”
A voice.
Out of nowhere.
No. Up ahead somewhere.
A high-ish male voice. Sounded quite friendly.
But Eddie couldn’t see where it was coming from.
His mouth went dry right away. He looked ahead. Zelda looked similarly unsure.
“Who’s out there?” Eddie called.
No response.
“You sure these infected haven’t figured out how to talk like normal humans yet?” he asked.
Zelda shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. I’m gonna gun this bastard down…”
And then he appeared.
He was a short guy. Bald. Had a smile etched across his face, the kind Eddie didn’t trust for some irrational reason. Quite a podgy guy, but then who the hell was he to talk? Bearded, but then weren’t most people now?
He was wearing a blue T-shirt. His arms were a little too hairy for comfort, whatever the hell that meant. He had this squint to his face. Didn’t look like he was holding any weapons. Didn’t look like he was holding anything.
“Seriously,” the man said. “It’s fine. I’m… Oh, holy smokes. What on earth happened to him there?”
Tim stood up and marched towards him right away, anger on his face. “You know exactly what happened to him, you bastard. You did this. Didn’t you? You did this!”
The man just stood there, arms raised, clearly a little alarmed. “I—I wish I could say I knew what you’re on about, but—”
“Tim,” Eddie said.
Tim stopped. Looked around at Eddie. Eyes red from crying.
He shook his head. He didn’t trust this guy. He’d be mad to trust anybody. Anyone would.
But he didn’t think he was to blame for what’d happened to Harold.
“Come back here,” Eddie said. “Seriously. We should hear the guy out at least.”
Tim’s face went red. He opened his mouth like he was going to throw both barrels at Eddie.
And then he came marching back. Pointing at the bloke. “I want answers, though. I want goddamned answers.”
He reached Eddie’s side. Stood there. Zelda beside them both. Shotgun pointed at the man.
“You don’t have to point that gun at me.”
“Actually, sunshine,” Zelda said. “We do. Now you’d better start talking, or I’ll take one of your kneecaps out. How’s that sound?”
The man’s eyes stretched a little. Like he was regretting confronting them at all. “Look. My name’s Bill.”
“I don’t give a shit what your name is,” Zelda said. “What d’you want?”
“I come from a community. It’s—it’s about ten miles from here. I got lost out hunting. My motorbike, it broke down, and I’ve been walking back ever since.”
“Good for you. What does that have to do with us?”
“You should join us.”
Eddie frowned. “Join you?”
“Our community. There’s about a hundred of us. All clean. None of us infected. We all have jobs. All have duties. Some of us hunt. Some of us are good with prepper stuff, or whatever they call it. We’ve got a good thing going.”
Eddie looked at Tim, then Zelda. Shook his head. “I’m sorry. We’ve already got plans.”
“Plans? Better plans than what we’re offering? Don’t tell me. Lancaster.”
The hairs on Eddie’s arms stood on end. “What do you know about Lancaster?”
“Look. That place ain’t bad, from what I hear. But they’ve already got loads of people. We could use a hand more than they can, let’s put it that way.”
A bitter taste filled Eddie’s mouth. A sudden sense they were at a turning point. A crossroads of not knowing what or who to trust.
“He’s bullshitting,” Tim said.
“Why would he be?”
“Lancaster. Simon was—”
“I know you and Simon really wanted to get to that place,” Eddie said. “But maybe… maybe he’s right. And maybe we should think about this. What harm is going along with him, anyway? We’ve got a shotgun. And he knows damn well we’ll gun him down if he tries anything. What’ve we got to lose?”
He glared at Bill. Hands still raised. “Seriously. I wish there was a way you could trust me. But I’m here. I’m unarmed. Risked my neck to get to you people. Why would I do that if I had, like, an agenda? Besides. It’s not like you’re loaded with supplies.”
“You could be a cannibal,” Zelda said.
Bill frowned. “Huh?”
“Plenty of meat on Eddie here. Perfect cannibal bait.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Jeez. Thanks.
“No problem.”
They stood there. Zelda’s shotgun still raised. Still pointed ahead.
“So?” Bill asked. “What do you think?”
A fork in the road.
A turning point.
But a sense they were all on the same page.
Even Tim, as reluctant as he was to admit it.
Eddie looked at them both.
Then he looked over at Bill.
“We’ll come with you,” he said. “We’ll check out this community.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Noah and Kelly kept their rifles pointed at Paul at every damned second.
They were just outside the town now. Walking through some local park, then into the trees beyond. Ducks swam about in the pond, wondering when they were next gonna get a scrap of bread thrown at them from a local or a passer-by. Squirrels raced up the sides of the lush, green trees. It looked like nature was resuming itself. Like things were returning to normal, the way things used to be. The way things were supposed to be before humans tainted everything.
But there was always that sense of caution that somebody was about. Or a body lying in the street. A faint smell of rot in the air. Constant reminders of the far from perfect world they were living in now.
“You’re making a terrible mistake,” Paul said.
Noah sighed. “Yeah, well it’s our mistake to own. Keep walking.”
He thought abo
ut what Paul had told him. The virus—if it could even be called a virus—was known about in secret for years. Some kind of nuclear arms race had formed around the world, a desperate attempt not to be left without the virus.
Except something had happened. The virus had got out. The whole damned world looked like it’d been affected.
And now Paul’s people were scrambling to understand it and find some kind of solution in the grimmest, most depraved ways.
He thought about what Paul had said a lot. About how he was useful.
But then Kelly, too.
She was asymptomatic. But she still had the virus.
That must be some real dark shit to have to deal with.
He knew deep down they should turn around. Head back to that place. For the good of humanity.
But fuck that.
He didn’t trust Paul for one second.
There was no way he and Kelly were walking back to that hellhole after everything that’d happened.
“You know, if my ex-wife knew I was spending probably my final moments as a captive prisoner, she’d be laughing her tits off right now.”
Kelly shrugged. “Sounds like your ex-wife had the measure of you, too.”
Paul tutted. “Karen was a good woman. A little insecure. A little needy. But her heart was always in the right place. I never knew what a good thing I had when I was with her, really. Didn’t appreciate her enough. Didn’t love her enough. Too focused by my work. Too damned absorbed by it. Can’t blame her for leaving me in the end. It was always gonna happen.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “If it’s my pity you’re looking for, you’ve come to the wrong place. Keep walking.”
“I don’t want your pity. I just… I just wish you’d understand—”
“What a grave mistake I’m making. Sure.”
“Have you ever had children? Actually, stupid question. I’m guessing not.”
Noah frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just don’t seem the type, is all. The type who has carried responsibility. True responsibility.”
