Surviving The Virus | Book 7 | Reinfection

by Casey, Ryan

  He needed to get to Iqrah and get the hell away from this part of the woods—fast.

  Even if it meant taking her along with him. Taking her far away from here so she could find her own way. That’s what he had to do.

  He kept on running when he saw movement up ahead.

  At first, he thought it was a guard. That blue uniform. A radio crackling away, somewhere around their waistband.

  But Noah soon realised it wasn’t a guard.

  It was an infected. A former guard, sure. Looked like he’d been dead a while. Must be from another district.

  He saw this guard jogging off ahead, over in pursuit of the rest of the infected, in pursuit of Iqrah.

  And at that moment, Noah knew he was close.

  He kept low. Pointed the rifle ahead. Stalked the infected as closely as he could without drawing any attention to himself. He knew he was in danger. He swore he kept seeing movement to his left, to his right.

  But he kept on going. Kept on pursuing the infected.

  Kept on…

  He stopped.

  Up ahead, there were four infected.

  Their grey skin dangled from their bony faces.

  They reeked of death.

  Worms and maggots crawling all over them.

  They were looking right at Noah.

  Standing there.

  Almost like they were waiting.

  Like this was some kind of trap.

  He lifted the rifle when he heard movement to his right.

  An infected jumped out. Curly hair. Half his face hanging off. All his teeth on show.

  He threw himself at Noah with his long nails.

  Noah spun around. Fired a few shots at the infected. Watched it lurch in the air, blood splattering from its body.

  And then he looked around and saw the rest of the infected running at him now.

  Iqrah.

  No sign of Iqrah.

  Which meant she was gone. It had to mean she was gone. What else could it mean?

  He felt that voice in his head telling him to get in touch with his abilities. To try and use them.

  But the last time he’d tried to use them, he’d lost Kelly. Lost Edward. They hadn’t worked. If anything, they’d backfired.

  Because he swore they’d attacked what he feared most.

  Loss.

  He couldn’t use them again. He didn’t understand them. He had to stay as far away from them as he could.

  He lifted his rifle and backed away. Heard more movement in the trees around him. A trap. An infected trap.

  He was surrounded.

  He’d made a mistake coming out here. A big mistake.

  He had to get away from here.

  He had to get back to the caravan.

  He had to pretend today had never happened.

  He had to…

  He turned around and saw three infected standing opposite him.

  They were too close to gun down all at once.

  Add to that the group behind him.

  And either side.

  There was no way out.

  No other choice.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to connect with that voice inside him. That feeling buried deep within.

  The infected ran at him. Shrieking. Snarling.

  He squeezed his eyes shut again, and this time, a part of him tried to connect with that inner energy; tried to get in touch with that power within. That inexplicable force inside.

  But another part of him just prayed it was quick. Prayed it wasn’t any more painful than he deserved.

  He braced himself for agony as the shrieks lurched towards him.

  And then something happened.

  The cries.

  They sounded agonised. Just for a moment. Like they were shrieking in pain.

  He opened his eyes.

  The three infected before him stood just inches from his face. They were shaking all over. Their eyes were swelling up, white, then bloodshot, then dark red, the black, then—

  A blast.

  Out of nowhere, their heads popped.

  One by one.

  A ghastly sour smell filled the air.

  Cold, sticky blood splattered against Noah’s face.

  Heads popping like fireworks.

  But he could only stand there and watch as all around him, these infected heads burst, one by one. Like fireworks. And he wondered if he’d done this. If he’d tapped into that power again. Only it’d worked out differently this time.

  He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand how it’d happened. Couldn’t comprehend it. Was it him? Or was it…

  He looked all around when he saw someone standing there, right behind him.

  Iqrah stood with her hand raised.

  She was shaking too.

  Her eyes were rolled back into her skull.

  Blood trickled down her face.

  The last of the infected skulls popped.

  Iqrah lowered her arm.

  Her eyes returned to normal.

  She looked at Noah. Half-smiled. Opened her mouth to say something.

  And then before she could, she passed out and hit the forest floor.

  Chapter Ten

  Elijah Crawford knew something was wrong the second he heard the gunshots.

  He was on patrol of the District 42 perimeter. It was a miserable day, and this stretch of woods was his least favourite. Utter shit. Always left him muddy. Waterlogged his boots. Meant he had to change his socks at least twice a day, and he wasn’t exactly a sock collector anyway. Besides, there was never any action down this way. Never anything too interesting.

  But those gunshots.

  And then that sound. Something like… a scream.

  That was enough to intrigue him.

  He radioed in to command.

  “Crawford to HQ. Got signs of trouble just north of the border. Temporarily leaving perimeter duty. If you could send someone in to cover, it’d be appreciated. If not, I’ll be back in no time. Over.”

  A rustle of static on the radio. About as much acknowledgement as the Society guys usually got.

  He walked off route, towards the thick mass of trees. That gunshot. He knew it could just be someone doing a little target practice where they shouldn’t. Maybe there was even a runner.

  But there was something different about today.

  All the Society folk had been briefed to keep their eye out for a young girl on the run. Iqrah Shah. Asian kid. Long, dark hair. Skinny as hell. Probably wearing a blue hospital gown, but that wasn’t guaranteed anymore. Peppered with bruises and scars, no doubt. She’d gone missing from those creepy Folkesmithe Labs a couple of days ago now, and so far, she’d done a damned fine job of evading all search parties.

  But this gunshot.

  And this scream.

  The unmistakable scream of a girl, no doubt about that.

  That piqued Elijah’s curiosity.

  He smiled as he waded his way alongside a stream. Kept his rifle raised at all times. The woods had a weird effect, especially when it was raining like this. You could kid yourself that the outside world was safe. That the No Man’s Land between quarantine zones and districts were all dandy, all because things seemed relatively good within the zones.

  But it wasn’t safe out here.

  The virus was still here. And it was damned unpredictable, that was for sure.

  He walked further along this stream. Heard another couple of shots, then another scream. Picked up his pace. This gunshot sounded different to the one before. Sounded louder, somehow. Like it came from a rifle rather than a pistol.

  Only way Elijah could be certain was by investigating. It was nice to get his teeth into something for a change, anyway. Something that might bring real reward along with it. He’d been with the Society for a year now. They were made up of remnants of old military types, government types from abroad; basically, a mishmash of important people who wanted help establishing a new world within the confines of a society still ravaged by this vi
rus.

  Their goal? Existing alongside the virus. Eradication had been tried, but it hadn’t worked. So humanity had to find new ways of adapting. Of thriving within the confines of its strained new existence.

  One day, it would rise again. Elijah truly believed that.

  He liked his job as a guard. Sometimes saw some nasty shit. Sometimes had to do some nasty shit.

  But for the most part, he got a sense of importance from it. Even if that importance wasn’t really acknowledged by the people above.

  He craved something greater. A real achievement. Hell, a medal would be nice. Sometimes guards got medals if they were responsible for particular acts of bravery or service.

  Finding a girl who’d escaped the labs? A girl who’d evaded all search parties so far?

  That was medal-worthy. And Elijah wasn’t holding back.

  They’d been warned about this girl. That’s what made the whole thing all the more intriguing. She was dangerous, apparently. Valuable. They kept it pretty vague, but she was important. Perhaps the most important damned girl in the country.

  He remembered hearing how dangerous she was and smirked.

  How dangerous could a kid be, really?

  He stumbled a little further through the woods, rain lashing down on his face, when he hit something with his foot.

  He looked down.

  Saw a body lying there.

  A body of a man. Looked like Society.

  His head had burst. Fragments of his skull all over the place. A ghastly smell filled the air.

  He lifted his radio right away, the taste of vomit clawing its way up his throat, when he saw more.

  More people lying around.

  All of them with their heads burst.

  Some of them looked fresher than others.

  But the bulk of them looked—and smelled—dead.

  Like infected.

  He kept one hand on his radio. Another on his rifle. Made sure his mask was flush to his face. He’d heard rumours this infection was small enough to sneak into the cracks in the masks, sometimes. No evidence. Some people said the masks were just bullshit. Plenty of people with masks had fallen, and plenty without were still here.

  But Elijah wasn’t taking any chances right now.

  He followed the bodies when he saw something.

  Footsteps.

  Little footsteps, stopping right before this mass of bodies.

  Small enough to be that of a young girl.

  And then larger footsteps.

  He gritted his teeth. Walked in the direction of the footprints. Wind whistling through the trees. Crows cawing overhead.

  He kept his rifle raised at all times.

  Heart racing.

  Chest tight.

  What’d gone on here?

  What’d…

  He stopped when he saw another body.

  This wasn’t a body of an infected.

  It was a body of a guard. Not someone he recognised. Must be from another district.

  But this guard had a bullet-hole through his head.

  Someone had killed him.

  Elijah looked ahead at the muddy footprints leading towards District 42.

  He took a deep breath and clutched his rifle tight.

  He was finding this girl.

  He was finding whoever was responsible for this murder.

  And he was going home with a goddamned medal.

  Chapter Eleven

  Noah sat in his caravan and watched the girl sleep.

  The blinds were closed, and he’d taped up the gaps, so it was dark in here, other than the flickering light of a candle. Outside, he heard the wind howling. Rain peppered against the metal roof of the caravan. Quite a relaxing sound, usually. Made him feel cosy. Took him back to those caravan trips he ventured on as a kid. Lying in bed at night, listening to the rain pitter-patter against the roof. It made him feel warm inside.

  But right now, he felt cold, somehow.

  The girl—Iqrah, she’d said her name was—lay on his bed. She was alive, at least. Sleeping. Snoring lightly. A little blood trickled from her nose, but mostly the bleeding had eased by now.

  He wondered what the fuck he was doing bringing her back here. But then, what else could he have done? Ignored her? Left her to be captured out there?

  No. He couldn’t do that.

  Besides. He was beginning to realise she’d done something quite remarkable.

  She’d saved his life from the infected.

  He thought of how the infected threw themselves at him. How he’d braced himself for death, his “abilities”—if he could call them that—waning.

  And then their heads all burst, one by one.

  All because of something she’d done.

  He thought about the guard’s desperation to take her away. And he wondered whether, in fact, she should be in a lab somewhere? After all, if she was capable of what Noah had witnessed, who was to say she wasn’t capable of far greater things? Like ending the virus once and for all?

  But on the other hand… Noah just felt some deep instinct to protect this girl. He heard her desperation. Her desire to get away from that man and find her parents, wherever they were.

  He shook his head as he sat there, Bruno sitting at his feet quietly, still reeling over Barney’s death. What was he going to do? Escape this district with the girl? Help her on some mad journey across the country and through No Man’s Land to find her family? Bullshit. Only place that left him was six feet under.

  He felt a resistance inside. A voice in his head telling him the right thing to do here.

  And he knew, deep down, the right thing to do was turn this girl in. To stop meddling with things he didn’t understand.

  The dead guard? He could explain that to them. Say he found the guard like that. The pistol in the girl’s hand—even though she’d dropped the pistol somewhere in the woods in the panic on the way back here. They had a rifle, anyway. One he’d taken from the dead guard. That would be enough to defend themselves with if need be.

  But he was starting to think handing the girl over was the best option after all.

  He felt awful even considering this. But what other choice did he have?

  He couldn’t go harbouring an escapee like this. And he couldn’t go on the road, either. He was happy here. And he was determined to fight for this secluded place in the woods. Or a home away from the vast majority of society, anyway.

  No. He had to do the right thing. Maybe not the most morally comfortable thing, but the right thing.

  He stood up. Went to lift the girl up.

  He saw her open her eyes.

  He stopped. She looked around. Confused. Panicked.

  “It’s okay,” Noah said.

  “Where—where am I?”

  “You’re safe. It’s okay. I brought you here from the woods. You don’t have to worry about the infected. Not now.”

  Iqrah looked back up at him, and he saw such gratitude in her eyes. Gratitude that made him feel all the more guilty about what he had to do. “Thank you. Thank—”

  “Come on,” Noah said. “Get on your feet. We need to get you out of here.”

  “My family. My parents. They live over… over in Blackpool. In a community there. I have to find them.”

  Noah gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to tell the kid he was betraying her. She didn’t deserve that.

  But at the same time… he knew he was going to have to be honest with her.

  He looked around at her. “Blackpool? How you planning on getting there?”

  Iqrah sat on the edge of the bed and shrugged. “I guess I’ll run.”

  Noah laughed. “Oh, you’ll run, will you?”

  “I’m good at running.”

  “Clearly not good enough.”

  “Then maybe you can help.”

  Noah narrowed his eyes. Sighed. “Look, kid. I don’t know who you are other than your name. I don’t know where you came from. Only that there’s something about you. That much is cl
ear to see. And some very powerful people seem very keen to get you back. So I guess I… I’m starting to wonder whether you should be out here at all.”

  Noah saw her eyes widen. Saw the hairs stand on her arms.

  He expected her to scream. To fight. To beg.

  Instead, he saw her lower her head. “You’re going to make me go back there, aren’t you?”

  A sickly feeling filled Noah’s body. “Kid, I just want to live a quiet life. You have no idea how much danger I’m in just by having you in here. Let alone killing that damned guard for you.”

  “They experiment on me, and on other kids, too. They stick needles in our hands and our tongues and our eyes. They test stuff on us. Most of us don’t make it. But it’s… it’s painful. They say it’s for the greater good, but it’s painful. It’s so painful. And… and if I have to die instead of going back there, I will. That’s how bad it is.”

  Noah shook his head. Hearing a kid say they’d rather die than go back somewhere felt so wrong. He couldn’t even look at her scarred arms, ’cause he didn’t want to believe it was true.

  And yet he felt so guilty.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I… I can’t help you.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Look,” Noah said, growing impatient now. “If you want to make a break for it now, I won’t stop you. But you’ve got to think about me, too. I can’t lie. I can’t pretend I haven’t seen you. And that might mean bad news for me.”

  “Nice to know I’ve bumped into someone so selfish. Just what I needed.”

  “I’m not the selfish one here. You are.”

  She stood up. Climbed off the bed. Pushed past Bruno towards the caravan door.

  Noah grabbed her arm.

  She looked around at him. Fear in her eyes. Like it triggered her. “Get off me.”

  “Let me get you some supplies for the road, at least.”

  She yanked her arm away. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “It’s not pity. It’s—”

  “If you won’t help me, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

  “That’s not entirely fair, kid. You don’t know how the world works.”

  “I know I saved you. And I know what you look like.”

  “And what do I look like?”

  She narrowed her eyes. They looked bloodshot, tearful almost. “Like a sad man who lost so much he’s given up.”