Surviving The Virus | Book 7 | Reinfection

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Surviving The Virus | Book 7 | Reinfection Page 17

by Casey, Ryan


  But the last thing he remembered before that?

  The main thing in his mind right now?

  What he’d done to those infected.

  They were coming for him. And then he’d tapped into something inside him, something he didn’t even know he had. And then he’d turned them. Killed some of them by removing the infection—the ones who were already dead. But the ones who were still living. The ones in better conditions. He’d brought them back.

  And then someone had ambushed him. Someone had shot those people he’d saved and brought him here.

  He saw movement above him.

  A man appeared. He was dressed in a large white bubble suit. A plastic visor in front of his face. He could just about see his black-rimmed glasses, his thin face. A smile there.

  “You must be Noah,” he said. “Doctor Fitzpatrick. Delighted to meet you.”

  Noah tried to speak, tried to say anything, but his tongue felt frozen solid. The only thing he felt was fear. Fear for his own life. But mostly fear for Iqrah, too.

  This man. He matched up to the one she’d told him about. The one who’d held her captive all this time.

  And that terrified him.

  “Look, Noah,” he said, walking around the bed, drifting in and out of view. “I must apologise for the methods and the urgency with which we brought you here. I feel like we’ve got off on the wrong foot somehow. But I also get the feeling that you aren’t totally on board with our plans, let’s say. Concerning the girl.”

  The girl.

  The hairs on his arms stood on end.

  His heart thudded harder.

  “Look, Noah,” Doctor Fitzpatrick said. “Iqrah. She is a very special girl. And you’d better believe me when I say she’s going to change the world. I thought she was the only one. Not the only one in the world, but one of a rare, rare breed. I thought that much until… well. Let’s just say I consulted some old notes. An old friend of mine from many years ago. Dr Jenkinson. And I was rather amazed with the consistency of what he discovered about you, and what I’ve discovered about Iqrah.”

  Dr Jenkinson. Fuck. That’s what this was. That’s what this was about.

  “All this time, I’ve been trying to find something stronger from Iqrah, somehow. Trying to extract it from her. But I’ve fallen short, time and time again. I didn’t realise I was missing one key ingredient. One key part of the puzzle. You.”

  Noah’s mouth went even dryer.

  “A key enzyme in your blood differs from that in Iqrah’s. But I believe if they are combined… we could create something truly special. Something with the ability to… well, to reverse the infection, sure. But I’d say it’s more important that we find a way to control it. To keep it in the locker if ever we need to use it again, let’s say.”

  What the fuck? They had a chance to wipe this virus out, once and for all. And these fuckers wanted to weaponise it?

  “I’m sure you’ll be keen to cut through the small-talk,” Doctor Fitzpatrick said, standing at the top of his bed. “So I’m very pleased to show you something. The process. It’s already begun.”

  He lifted the headrest of Noah’s bed, and that’s when he saw her.

  Her eyes were open wide. Wider than Noah thought possible.

  The whites of her eyes were bloodshot.

  She was crying tears of blood all down her face.

  A metal ring tightly wrapped around her head, blood seeping out of clear tubes, and into some large container at the side.

  He looked into her pale face, and as he tried to battle free of his paralysis, he swore he felt his finger twitch.

  “I wish it were easier,” Doctor Fitzpatrick said, no sympathy to his voice. “I wish there were a better and less painful way to do this. But I’m afraid… you and the girl. You are going to be sacrifices. You are going to go down in history. And it begins now.”

  Noah tried to scream out at the top of his lungs as he watched Iqrah twitch and splutter blood.

  But he couldn’t move a muscle.

  He was trapped.

  There was no getting out.

  There was no escape.

  He went to grab Doctor Fitzpatrick by the throat.

  Felt his finger twitch, just slightly.

  That’s when he saw it.

  Doctor Fitzpatrick.

  That metal helmet thing in his hand.

  Moving it towards Noah’s head.

  Doctor Fitzpatrick looked into his eyes. Smiled.

  And then he placed it on Noah’s head.

  “Try to relax, friend,” he said. “It’ll be easier if you relax.”

  Noah tried to kick out, tried to scream.

  But all he could do was watch as the headrest of the bed tilted back.

  All he could do was stare up into the doctor’s eyes as he tightened the screws of that helmet around his skull.

  And when he went over to a machine at the corner of the room and hit a button, Noah could only cry as excruciating agony tore through his skull.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Noah felt the agonising pain split through his skull and couldn’t even scream about it.

  Flashing lights. Hot, burning pain, like someone was prodding a poker right into his brain and frying it. Every inch of his body felt on fire, burning, shaking, writhing. All he could taste was blood.

  And despite all the agony, despite it dragging him so much into the present that he could barely think about anything, Noah could only think of one person.

  Iqrah.

  The pain she must be going through.

  The horror and the agony she must be feeling right now.

  He wanted to fight. He wanted to kick out. He wanted to break free of the ties around his wrists, of the paralysis surging through his body. But he felt so weak. So helpless. So defenceless. So useless.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the agony surge through his body, and as much as he wanted to stand up, as much as he wanted to fight… he knew he couldn’t.

  He saw flashes of the people he’d lost. Jasmine. Mum. Gran. Eddie. He saw Zelda, he saw Jane, and he saw Baby Edward, and Barney, and Kelly, too.

  He saw all these people, and he wanted to say sorry to them. Because he saw Iqrah alongside them now. He saw her, and he felt her pain, and her terror, and he wanted to take it away. He wanted to help her.

  He wanted to apologise to her.

  Because he’d failed her.

  He opened his eyes and saw three people standing around him. Doctor Fitzpatrick. Two other people. Blurry. His vision tainted red. Unable to focus properly. Unable to tap into any of them.

  And then he saw the blood from his skull dripping into that clear container at the side.

  Merging with the blood from Iqrah’s head.

  He saw it, and he felt so bad again about all the times he’d failed. All the times he wasn’t able to act when he should’ve done. All the times he’d let people down. All the times he’d…

  He stopped thinking.

  Just like that, he stopped thinking.

  Because he thought of Kelly.

  He thought of what she’d said.

  The words she’d said, back at the industrial estate.

  The words that made him realise.

  “You tried your best. And you never stopped trying. That wasn’t for yourself. That was for others. That was for me. That was for Edward. Because that’s who you are. You’re a good person, Noah.”

  He heard those words, and as hard a time as he had in accepting them, as tough a time he had believing them… he started to see their truth.

  In all the agony, he started to feel the truth.

  In all the pain and the horror… he started to believe.

  He squeezed his burning eyes shut, and with every sinew in his body, he strained.

  He strained to focus.

  Strained to tap into that place inside him.

  That place of anger.

  That place of agony.

  That place of pain.

&nb
sp; But he couldn’t find it.

  The physical pain he felt just kept punching him back. Knocking him down.

  Focus, Noah. You can do this. You’re strong enough. Focus.

  He went to tune in to his body sensations again when he felt that place, that emptiness, that void. Like he was touching it with his fingertips. Like a feather on a glass.

  But it was still so far away.

  Still knocked back, punched away by the pain.

  Focus, Noah! You’ve got this! You’ve got it!

  He went to strain some more to tap into that place, running out of energy, unsure how much longer he could hold on… when he felt it.

  Sudden.

  Empty.

  Hollow.

  But a place inside him that felt far more whole and far more real than anything else.

  He sank into that place.

  Sank deeper into that void.

  And in that void, he felt peace.

  He felt anger.

  He felt calm, and he felt fury.

  He wanted to move towards the calm.

  He wanted to sink into the compassion and the kindness.

  But he knew he couldn’t.

  He turned towards the pain.

  Walked towards it, even though it hurt him.

  Even though it broke him.

  Even though it got hotter and hotter and more burning and more crushing by the second.

  He tried to hold on as he stepped towards that brightness.

  As it seared at his body.

  As it made him shake and vomit and writhe and taste blood and…

  And that’s when he realised.

  The room around him.

  Shouting.

  Concern.

  Because something was happening.

  He was moving.

  He was—

  He looked up into the eyes of Doctor Fitzpatrick.

  For one moment, he saw fear. Pure, undiluted fear.

  The next second, he saw a smile on his face.

  “Impossible,” he said.

  He looked across the room.

  And then he saw Iqrah across the room.

  Eyes rolled back into her skull.

  But looking at him, too.

  He felt something between them.

  That place.

  That void.

  That energy…

  He knew Iqrah felt it too.

  He knew they were connected, somehow.

  So he rushed towards it.

  “Impossible,” Doctor Fitzpatrick said. “Truly—”

  Noah tightened his fists.

  Doctor Fitzpatrick’s eyes swelled up.

  His face went red, then blue.

  His eyes went red, then purple.

  He clutched his neck as saliva drooled down his face.

  First, clear.

  Then, smeared with blood.

  He looked around at the others in the room. And then he felt the presence of others, too. More. More people working here. More people like these people.

  He tapped into this source, and then he took a deep breath, then exhaled.

  He squeezed his fists.

  Doctor Fitzpatrick’s head exploded.

  Skull and brains splattered around the room like messy fireworks.

  The heads of the other two people blew up, too.

  And Noah felt more of them popping.

  And more.

  And more.

  And as he loosened his grip on this source, on this place, he felt the feeling returning to his exhausted, broken body.

  He sat up. Yanked the metal helmet from his head. Stumbled across the room on weak, shaking legs, over to Iqrah.

  She lay back. Eyes closed. Blood trickling from her mouth.

  “Iqrah,” he said.

  He grabbed her. Yanked the helmet off her head.

  “Iqrah, come on. I’m here. You made it. I’m here.”

  He shook her. Then he went to check her pulse.

  And when he did, he felt nothing.

  He laid her down on the blood-soaked floor. Alarms rang out. Sirens filled the labs.

  But he didn’t care.

  He just had to get her back.

  He had to help her.

  He gave her CPR. He pushed down on her chest. Breathed into her mouth.

  “Come on, Iqrah. We’re okay now. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  He kept on pushing. Kept on pressing.

  “Iqrah!” he shouted.

  But it didn’t matter how much he pushed.

  It didn’t matter how much he tried.

  As he sat there in the bloodstained room of the labs, Noah knew the truth already.

  Iqrah was gone.

  Iqrah was dead.

  He’d failed, again.

  He’d lost someone because he was too late, again.

  He’d…

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Noah heard a cough.

  At first, he thought he was imagining things. He was weak. He was exhausted. It was all in his head.

  But then he heard it again.

  And he felt the movement in his legs.

  He looked down and saw Iqrah staring up at him.

  Her eyes were bloodshot. Looked like the blood vessels themselves had burst. Vomit laced with blood trickled down her face.

  But she was alive.

  She was alive—barely—and she was awake.

  “Noah?” she said. “What…”

  He couldn’t help himself.

  He leaned down, and he hugged her, tight. Like she was a daughter. Because he cared about her. He couldn’t deny it. He’d only known this girl a short time, but he felt like he had a connection with her.

  And maybe that’s because he did.

  After what happened just now—how they’d formed some kind of bond, some kind of connection, and come together to destroy Doctor Fitzpatrick and… well, it felt like everyone in here… he was starting to believe there was more to this than he first thought.

  He lifted Iqrah up. “Come on. We need to get out of here. Close your eyes, kid. You don’t want to see this room.”

  But Iqrah kept her eyes open. And Noah knew she saw every bit of it. The blood on the walls. The chunks of brain drooling onto the floor. Fragments of skull, crunching underfoot. Old teeth wedging into the soles of Noah’s feet.

  He rushed over to the door. Opened it. Stepped out onto the corridor. He was weak. He could barely breathe. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this place, let alone far away from here, towards Blackpool, or towards Kelly’s or towards wherever he was going to go.

  He just knew he would.

  He knew he had to.

  Because that was his duty.

  He stumbled down the corridors. Red lights flashed all around him. An alarm rang out, high pitched, but he had the feeling nobody was coming. All along the corridors, bodies. Bodies with their heads burst open. All of them in this same position. All of them victim to whatever the hell Noah and Iqrah had come together to do back there.

  He could see the power they both had. Feel it. And he knew why that was valuable. He knew why it was useful.

  And he knew as long as the Society existed, the pair of them would be hunted down for their abilities. Forever.

  He turned a corner and saw a door up ahead.

  He ran down to it. Tried to open it, but with no luck. He grabbed one of the keycards of another fallen guard, tried that too. But again, no luck.

  He tried more doors. More keycards. More combinations.

  But he was stuck.

  They were trapped in here.

  He went to try another door when Iqrah spoke.

  “That’s the way,” she said.

  Noah frowned. Looked down. Saw her pointing at a door at the end of this current corridor they were on. “What?”

  She held out her shaky hand. “That door. That’s… that’s the way. That’s the one I went out of. That’s how we… how we get out.”

  Noah swallowed a lump
in his throat. He didn’t want to get his hopes too high. Didn’t want to be faced with disappointment once again.

  But he walked over towards that door.

  Stood beside it. Keycard in hand.

  “Well,” he said. “Here goes nothing.”

  He pressed the keycard to the reader.

  Waited.

  Waited.

  And the longer he waited, the more doubt grew.

  The longer he waited, the more he was sure Iqrah had got this wrong.

  He lowered the keycard. Went to walk away. “It’s no use,” he said. “It’s…”

  And then something remarkable happened.

  The doors opened.

  Light burst into the dark corridors.

  Daylight.

  Wind.

  Beaming sun.

  The sound of birdsong.

  Noah stood there. Iqrah over his shoulder. Shaking. Barely able to stay on his feet. Sunlight beaming into his eyes, burning his vision.

  He looked at Iqrah. Saw her smiling, too, only faintly, but still smiling.

  And then he looked back out at the brightness outside.

  Tears welling in his eyes.

  A long journey ahead. A journey they might not make.

  But a journey he had a chance to make.

  He took a deep breath.

  Took a step.

  That’s when he heard the movement behind him.

  “Not so fucking fast.”

  He stopped.

  Heart racing.

  It couldn’t be simple, could it?

  There had to be a fucking twist.

  He turned around and saw her standing there.

  No mask anymore. Not even any kind of protection over her face. Long blonde hair.

  Those beaming green eyes.

  That smile.

  “Howdy, buddy. The name’s Shelley. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

  She stood there and held on to something.

  Something that looked like…

  A detonator.

  That’s when Noah saw the explosives wired around the grounds.

  He looked up at Shelley. Saw her smiling back at him, as he noticed.

  “Going somewhere?” she said.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “You know this only ends one way, Noah. You know this only ends one way. You can get on your knees and give yourselves up. Do the right thing, for humanity, or whatever bullshit they fed you. Or… I can blow us all the fuck up right now, and any hope of ever ending this goddamned virus stops with us. How does that sound for a dilemma, hmm?”

 

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