Pestilence: A Post Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Surviving the Virus Book 8)

by Ryan Casey

  The figures in the distance.

  Racing down the promenade.

  Gasping.

  Growling.

  And running their way.

  “Infected,” Noah said.

  Chapter Seven

  Noah saw the infected racing towards him, and every inch of his body froze.

  There were so many of them, piling their way down the promenade, worming their way between the houses, through the little alleyways and roads. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It’d been three days since they’d come across a trace of any infected. It’d seemed quiet. Far too quiet.

  And now here a whole mass of them were. Fifty at least. Like they’d been following them all this time. Waiting to ambush.

  He stood there, stared at them, and tightened his fist. Iqrah looked frozen by his side. Caught between wanting to investigate the other trams for any trace of her parents and do something about these infected.

  Bruno just stepped back. Kicked the ground. Growled.

  Noah watched them pile through the street towards him and Iqrah. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He didn’t know how they’d found them. Didn’t know where they’d been hiding all this time.

  But they were here. And even if he had been expecting to see the Society members before he saw the infected, he had to deal with whatever this bullshit world threw at him.

  He grabbed Iqrah’s hand. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”

  She pulled back a little. Stood her ground.

  “Iqrah. We can’t stay here. There’s no time. We have to go.”

  “I’m not leaving without knowing,” she said.

  “Iq—”

  She looked around. Glared at him. “I’m not leaving without knowing!”

  He could see it already. The bloodshot eyes. That dampness around her nostrils. That redness to her face. Signs she was already tapping into that force within her. That force inside them both. The one they didn’t understand. But the one that made them both so valuable, so pursued by the Society, especially together.

  The power to control the virus.

  The power to turn the infected.

  Noah looked into her eyes. Then looked beyond at those figures racing their way. Rain fell heavier now. The grey clouds thicker, more suffocating. The flashes of lightning in this late summer storm growing all the more frequent.

  He didn’t want to have to tap into that place inside him, that place within. He’d rather resist that. It was taxing. Exhausting.

  And he had a feeling it had the power to do more damage than good, sometimes.

  Something inside him felt broken every time he used it. He couldn’t explain it any more than that. It was how he felt.

  But he saw the oncoming infected, and he knew they had no choice now.

  They were already out of time.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed Iqrah’s hand. Bruno barking away between them. Rain pelting down from above.

  And the shrieks and cries of the infected getting closer, closer…

  “Now,” he said. “Now!”

  He took a deep breath and searched for that place inside. That anger. That void. That space inside to fall into. To sink into.

  But all he could focus on was his racing heart.

  His fear.

  Iqrah.

  He had to protect her.

  He held her hand tighter and searched for that place again as the footsteps grew closer.

  As the shrieks and cries got louder.

  He needed to find that place.

  He needed to tap into it.

  He needed—

  Kelly.

  Edward.

  Thinking he had them.

  Seeing the infected stop just metres before them.

  Feeling relief. Feeling joy.

  Then seeing the infected fly into them.

  Leaving Kelly for dead.

  Killing Edward.

  He gritted his teeth as those footsteps got closer. His heart racing so fast now, he was convinced he was in the throes of a panic attack.

  Sweat pouring down his face.

  Breathing rapid.

  Come on. Come on, Noah. You can do this. You’ve got this. You’ve…

  And then it happened.

  A sudden weightlessness, right through his body.

  A taste of blood right across his lips.

  He opened his eyes, and he saw nothing but red.

  He tightened his grip on Iqrah’s hand. No sounds, just muffled noises, incomprehensible.

  And a sense of the infected closing in.

  Getting nearer.

  He felt his heart racing, and he knew he had to help them.

  He knew he could convert them.

  He knew he could save them.

  He—

  A whack against his chest.

  His head smacked against the road. His vision filled with light.

  He tightened his eyes shut. Looked up and around.

  Infected piling on top of him.

  On top of Iqrah.

  But not attacking.

  Just clawing at him. Clawing at them both.

  Bruno standing his ground, kicking back, barking and nipping at as many of them as he could.

  He felt crushing dead weight against his chest. When he tried to inhale, it just made exhaling even more difficult. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. His head spun. His eyes bulged. Why wasn’t it working? What was happening? What the fuck was happening?

  He looked over at Iqrah. Saw her frozen there, turning blue as she lay under a mass of infected of her own.

  He saw Bruno, cornered, cowering.

  He saw them all, and he felt anger.

  Not again.

  Not again…

  He closed his eyes. Clenched his fist. Tightened his jaw.

  And then he felt it.

  A wave of energy inside him.

  An energy he didn’t understand.

  Like he was connected with the infected on some other level.

  Like he was tapped into what they had.

  He felt that energy, and then he felt his pain, his fear, his desire to survive, to help Iqrah, to save Bruno…

  And then he leaned in towards that energy and disappeared into the void.

  First, a bang, somewhere inside his skull.

  Then an intense bolt of pain, right down the back of his neck.

  And then, as he lay weak and breathless on the promenade of Blackpool, Noah saw nothing but darkness surround him, swallow him up, and…

  Chapter Eight

  Noah opened his eyes.

  A blinding pain split through his skull. Burning light, so strong. A thick taste of blood at the back of his throat. His body shaking. His chest tight. His head banging, aching more than ever.

  He didn’t know where he was. Didn’t know what’d happened. Some vague memory of standing his ground, resisting the infected, trying to tap into that place within to…

  Shit.

  It came back in a flash.

  Blackpool promenade.

  The trams filled with bodies.

  The infected racing towards him and Iqrah.

  Standing their ground and…

  He didn’t remember what’d happened. Only that he’d been knocked to the ground. So too had Iqrah. A mass of infected bodies pressing them both down, crushing the breath from his lungs.

  And then a flash.

  A pop.

  Then, darkness.

  He opened his eyes again, tried to squint through the blinding light, make sense of his surroundings. The first thought that came to his head was Iqrah and Bruno. They were in danger. He needed to get to them. Needed to make sure they were okay. Needed to—

  A wet tongue against his face.

  Hot breath.

  He looked around, his neck aching, and saw Bruno staring down at him, wagging his tail.

  Noah squinted, his eyes still not quite adjusting to his surroundings. He dragged himself up
right. “Hello, lad,” he said. “What’s… what’s happened here?”

  He looked around, then. The bodies of the infected lay on the promenade before him. He was covered in blood and innards. Looked like their skulls and torsos had exploded with whatever he’d done.

  He looked around at them, a ghastly smell of rot filling his nostrils. The rain that’d fallen so heavily earlier had stopped, nothing more than a trickle now. The grey clouds were parting, warm sunlight beaming through.

  He looked around and saw Iqrah lying back against the promenade.

  Her eyes were open but rolled back into her skull.

  Blood covered her face.

  She looked like she was clenching her jaw, holding it tight. Like she was having some kind of seizure.

  “Shit,” Noah said.

  He clambered to his shaky feet and walked over to Iqrah. Kneeled by her side. Put his hand under her head, gently. “Iqrah?” he said.

  She was totally still. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot. Actually looked like a few blood vessels had burst.

  And as he lay there, holding on to this girl he’d sworn to protect, he saw flashes of the past again. Flashes of sitting by Edward’s side as he lay there on the road. Blood covering his face. Chest torn open. Ribcage on display.

  Every time he remembered that moment, he had a physical reaction. A sickness deep inside like a punch in the gut. The moment he’d sworn never to bond with anyone again. Never connect with anyone again. Because it was never worth the hurt of losing them.

  But now, sitting here, Iqrah leaning on his arm, he felt that pain again.

  He’d allowed himself to get close.

  He’d allowed himself to connect.

  He’d allowed himself to—

  Iqrah coughed blood.

  Her eyes rolled back into place.

  She stared up at Noah, looked around, clearly frightened, clearly confused.

  “Where am I?” she said.

  “It’s okay, Iqrah. It’s okay.”

  “I can’t—Why’s it dark? Why’s it dark?”

  “It’s okay, Iqrah,” Noah said, holding her closer. “I’ve got you. We’re okay. I’ve got you.”

  “I can’t see,” Iqrah said. “Why can’t I see?”

  He moved Iqrah away, just slightly. And he noticed something. A greyness to her eyes. A lack of focus as they darted around, tried to investigate their surroundings.

  And as much as he didn’t want to scare Iqrah… he knew something was amiss here.

  “You can’t see?” Noah asked.

  Iqrah’s bottom lip shook. Her teeth chattered. “There was the infected. Then the bang. And now… It’s all black, Noah. It’s all black, and I can’t see.”

  Noah stroked Iqrah’s cold, goosy arms. He felt worried for her. Concerned for her. This vision thing, it wasn’t good at all. “It’s… it’s probably just the shock. It’ll come back.”

  “But I’m scared.”

  “I know you’re scared. But I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

  He picked Iqrah up. Lifted her onto his shoulder. He didn’t feel too steady on his feet himself. That headache, those ringing ears… he wondered how far he’d been from losing his vision, too.

  He looked around at the mass of infected lying dead across the promenade. Contorted limbs. Exploded skulls. He wondered what he and Iqrah had tapped into to do this. It felt like something had changed inside him in that moment. Like a bomb had gone off, bigger and more powerful than anything he’d channeled before.

  He looked at this mass of bodies and felt a lump swell in his throat.

  Whatever had happened here, one thing was for certain.

  They needed to leave Blackpool.

  They needed to get away from this place.

  There was nothing here for them.

  “You’ll check,” Iqrah said.

  “What?”

  “You’ll check. If—if my parents are here. I can tell you how they look. My dad. He has—has this grey patch. This big freckle on his cheek. And my mum. She has the longest eyelashes. These bright green eyes. You’ll check, won’t you?”

  Noah’s stomach sank. He looked around at the trams. He didn’t want to go back in there. Didn’t want to sift through the tomb of bodies. Besides, what difference would it make anymore?

  The sooner they got out of Blackpool and back into hiding, the better.

  “I’ll check,” Noah said, guilt building inside. “I’ll check.”

  He looked at the trams.

  Then at Bruno, who stared up at him like he knew he was going to betray Iqrah’s trust.

  And then he took a deep breath and turned away.

  It was only when he turned away and went to walk that he heard the footsteps behind.

  That he heard rustling.

  Inside one of the trams.

  He froze.

  Spun around.

  Reached instinctively for his knife.

  That’s when he saw her.

  A small woman. Thin. Long, ginger hair. Bright blue eyes.

  She was covered in blood.

  Tears covered her cheeks.

  She looked at Noah and Iqrah, and her eyes widened.

  “Iq… Iqrah?” she said.

  Chapter Nine

  “Iqrah? Is… is that you?”

  Noah stared at the woman opposite and stood his ground. His heart raced. He didn’t like this. Didn’t know where she’d appeared from for one, whether she’d stepped out of the trams or arisen from the masses of fallen infected. How long had she been here? Why hadn’t she made her presence clear earlier?

  And how did she know Iqrah?

  Iqrah shuffled around on Noah’s shoulder. She squinted, tried to direct her blinded eyes over towards the woman. “Who is that?”

  Noah held on to her tight. By his side, Bruno growled. He stood his ground. Knife in hand. This woman standing there. Long, greasy ginger hair dangling down her chest. Dark circles under her beaming blue eyes. She looked dirty and greasy, with torn clothes, like she’d been out here a while.

  “Who are you?” Noah asked.

  The woman took another step forward.

  Noah lifted his knife. On guard. Not wanting to risk anything. Not wanting to take any chances. “I asked you a question. Who are you?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed as they landed on Noah. “Who am I? Who are you more like? And what the hell are you doing with Iqrah?”

  Iqrah shuffled around even more on Noah’s shoulder. Her blindness wasn’t helping with the confusion of this situation.

  “You know this woman, Iqrah? Ginger. Bright blue eyes. Skinny as a rake.”

  Iqrah frowned for a moment. Still tried to squint ahead, to peer into the distance, then gave up.

  And her silence alarmed Noah. It made him wonder if this was another element of the infection. He’d seen cases of infected masquerading as normal before. Rare, but it sent a shiver up his spine.

  Especially since he felt so… well. Broken. So out of touch with that place inside him. That void within.

  It felt like whatever he’d done here to the mass of infected had changed something within him somehow.

  And then Iqrah spoke.

  “Kirsty?”

  The woman’s eyes widened. It’s like Iqrah’s words awoke something in her. Made her realise it was her, after all.

  “Iqrah?” the woman said. “Yes, my love. Yes. It’s me. It’s—it’s me.”

  She started walking towards Noah and Iqrah when Noah lifted his knife.

  Kirsty stopped. Her eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”

  “This woman,” Noah said. “Kirsty. Can she be trusted?”

  Kirsty’s cheeks flushed. “Of course I can—”

  “I’m speaking to Iqrah.”

  “But—”

  “Iqrah, can she be trusted?”

  Iqrah lifted her head. Nodded. “She was… she was my mum’s best friend here. Before they took me away. She used to teach me and some of the other kids. She had a boy. Be
rtie.” A tear rolled down Iqrah’s face. Her lips twitched.

  Noah looked over at Kirsty, then. She was crying too. And as cautious as he felt, as much as it took him out of his comfort zone, he lowered his knife. Slipped it into his pocket. Nodded at Kirsty to approach.

  Kirsty stepped forward. Still looked a little intimidated by Noah. Couldn’t stop looking at the stump where his left hand once sat, for one.

  “Iqrah,” she said, putting her hand on hers. “I didn’t… I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”

  Noah let Iqrah loose. He didn’t want to, but he let her. “She can’t see.”

  Kirsty frowned. “What?”

  “Iqrah. Something happened. She can’t see. Don’t know if it’s permanent. But go easy on her. And I can see, remember? So don’t go trying anything.”

  Kirsty looked up at Noah, then back at Iqrah. “I wouldn’t do a thing. Come here, my love. Come here.”

  She wrapped her arms around Iqrah. Held her, tight. Noah stood there, knife firmly in hand, watching closely. Keeping a close eye on Kirsty and Iqrah for one. And on the fallen infected, too. He looked up, over at the derelict buildings lining the promenade. The clouds thickening again. A cool breeze drifting along the seafront. The sound of waves crashing against the shore. It felt quiet. Too quiet.

  “What happened here?” Noah asked.

  Kirsty glanced up at him, eyes stained with tears. “I—I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I’ve been away from this place for a while.”

  “Doesn’t seem the time to go on vacation.”

  “I was kidnapped when I was on a supply run,” Kirsty said. “Been away from here for a month now. Came back and found… well. This.”

  “My mum,” Iqrah said. “My dad. Are they…”

  She couldn’t finish. But she didn’t have to. Kirsty knew what she meant. Everyone knew what she meant.

  But then she said something that Noah didn’t expect.

  “They moved on from here,” she said.

  Noah frowned. Couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Especially when he’d prepared himself for the worst.

  “What do you mean?” Iqrah asked.

  Kirsty tightened her grip even more. “There’s… there’s a place. A place you should know about. A place you should both know about.”

  “What kind of place?” Noah asked.