Surviving The Virus (Book 5): Extermination

by Casey, Ryan

  He looked at Kelly. Sensed the real concern in her.

  “Because they don’t deserve to live,” she said. “They don’t deserve mercy. They deserve what Curtis got.”

  Noah thought back to Curtis.

  The screams.

  The cries.

  Fuck. There wasn’t even a body left when he’d gone in there.

  Found that arm, torn away from him.

  An ear.

  So much blood.

  And they were their people.

  They were supposed to be the good ones.

  The sane ones.

  But fuck. He wasn’t going to shed a tear for Curtis.

  “I guess that’s going to be one of the mysteries of the new world. Something we have to decide for ourselves. True law. True order. Consistency. Not mob law. Because Curtis was right about one thing. You just don’t know when someone might decide enough’s enough. You’ve got to keep one eye over your shoulder. All the time.”

  Kelly looked back. Noah did too.

  “Well I know what I think.”

  They walked further down the street. The crowd was larger now. He worked his way through it a little until the pair of them could see the large structure up ahead, right in the middle of town.

  Shrouded in plastic covering.

  Surrounded by a group of guards. Smiling. Waiting.

  A man standing there. Franky, he was called. Megaphone in hand. He was the leader of this place. Aloof, but approachable. Large grey beard like Santa Claus. A friendly look to his brown eyes. Gentle. Had the best interests of the group at heart.

  “We gather here today,” he said, the megaphone screeching a little, “not to feel anger. Not to feel sorrow. But to feel appreciation. To feel gratitude. For the sacrifices our people made so we can still stand here. To remember those who laid down their lives to make sure we could still stand.”

  He looked right at Noah then.

  “We’d like to give Noah the honour of unveiling the statue.”

  Noah’s cheeks flushed.

  Eyes all turned on him, expectant, waiting.

  “I… I don’t think—”

  “Go on,” Kelly said, patting his back.

  “Did you put them up to this?”

  “I might’ve had a quiet word.”

  “You bitch.”

  “Thank you.”

  He walked through the crowd then. They smiled at him. Patted his back. Applauded him. Called out his name.

  And then he climbed the steps. Shook Franky’s hand. Looked around at the crowd.

  He saw faces he recognised. He saw dogs—Barney and Bruno, the little pup Noah rescued—running through the streets, joyous.

  But the people.

  All looking to him like he was their leader.

  Like they had faith in him.

  “Would you like to say a few words, Noah?” Franky asked.

  Noah shook his head. “I don’t think—”

  “Speech!” someone shouted.

  And then another. “Speech!”

  And then they all chanted. “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

  It got to the point where it would’ve been weird not to agree.

  So reluctantly, crippled with anxiety, Noah grabbed the megaphone from Franky’s hands.

  He stood there a few seconds. Looked around at the people, all gathered, all watching, all waiting.

  “I’m not much of a public speaker,” he said to a few laughs from the crowd. “But I do want to say one thing. Just… just one thing.”

  A pause. Hesitant.

  “We can’t erase our past actions,” he said. “We can’t change the things we’ve done. But we can… we can be better people right now. Every single passing second is another chance to be a better person than you were a second ago. Because the real virus in this world is hate. But as long as we can… as long as we can live together, we can die together knowing we did the right thing and feel no shame. No guilt. Just pride.”

  He lowered the megaphone. Nodded. Waited for the laughs and snorts.

  And then the applause started.

  The applause spread. Turned into cheering.

  And before he knew it, Noah was standing there like some kind of messiah figure.

  Franky took the megaphone from Noah. Smiled at him. Nodded. “And would you like to do the honour?”

  Noah turned around the large plastic sheet over the tall structure.

  He held his breath.

  And then he grabbed it, and with the help of a couple of others, he dragged it down.

  When it fell, he saw it, right in front of him, and he felt the tears welling in his eyes.

  Tears of sadness.

  But tears of pride.

  It was a tall, grey slab of concrete.

  And etched onto this concrete was the name of every single person who had died protecting this place.

  Defending this place.

  He scanned the list of names.

  Scanned them, right the way down.

  Jane.

  Sunil.

  Sarah “Zelda”.

  And then he stopped, right at the bottom.

  Eddie.

  He took a deep breath, and in the brightness of the sun, he smiled.

  “I forgive you, buddy. I forgive you.”

  And then he turned around and joined the adoring crowd, in the brightness of a new day.

  Somewhere in the crowd, a woman coughed up a little speck of blood.

  But she didn’t think a thing of it.

  Because the virus was gone.

  It was dead.

  It was buried.

  Wasn’t it?

  END OF BOOK 5

  Recurrence, the sixth book in the Surviving the Virus series, is now available to pre-order on Amazon.

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