by Ryan Casey
There was no way he was going back there.
He’d die before he went back there.
Whether he was “for the greater good” or not.
He didn’t like their methods.
He hoped they figured something out, one way or another.
But he wasn’t going to be involved.
It wasn’t his duty.
He looked along this long, empty street. Rifle raised at all times. It’d gone exceptionally quiet along here. He didn’t like getting complacent, though. He’d seen how quickly the infected could appear out of nowhere. He’d seen the dead walking. He’d seen so many horrible things.
And he had no idea of knowing just how much the virus—or whatever it was—had changed in the time he’d been locked up inside.
He looked around. Saw Eddie walking by Kelly’s side. Saw Barney by the pair of them. Tim trailing behind. He saw the new woman, Zelda, shotgun pinned to Paul’s head, watching him closely.
He thought about Kelly. What Paul said. She was dangerous. She was infected.
And he was torn about that. He knew she was, too.
What was best for her?
What was best for those around her?
But then he had another thought. The people who were still standing. Who was to say they hadn’t come into contact with the virus, too?
Who was to say they weren’t the same as her?
He looked around and saw Bill smiling at him.
Noah nodded at him. He didn’t want to be rude. Bill seemed a decent guy. And he was offering them a chance to join their home, after all.
But he was just in a strange place.
He didn’t trust anyone.
Not after what’d happened.
“You look like you could use a beer or two,” Bill said.
Noah half-smiled. “If you’re offering one, that’d be good.”
“Got some Carlsburg back at our place. Not my brand of choice. But hell. Anything’s better than nothing, right?”
“You can say that again.”
They kept on walking. Leading the way through this empty town. And then left, towards an old park. The sun glistened against a still pond. A dead old man lay against a park bench, newspaper bloodied and splayed across his chest.
The ducks still pottered around, waiting for bread, waiting for scraps.
Fishing equipment abandoned by the side of the pond,
Silent.
Pristine.
“That place you came from,” Bill said. “I mean, I know it’s a bit of a shitty question. And tell me if I’m prying. But… dude. What the hell happened to you there?”
Noah swallowed a sickly lump in his throat. The days of silence. Of darkness. The fear.
And yet?
And yet through it all, the thing that’d got to him most.
Jasmine.
Losing her.
Her death was the most torturous thing he’d been through. The most horrifying thing he’d suffered. Everything else he’d been through just seemed to pale in comparison.
“They were testing,” Noah said. “Testing for some kind of cure to this virus.”
“And where do you fit in all that?” Bill asked.
“I… For some reason, it doesn’t look like I can catch it.”
Bill’s eyes widened. “Well, shit. Ain’t that a handy trick to have?”
Noah shrugged. “I guess.”
“Like, people would kill to have what you have. And isn’t that just the goal at the end of the day, really? All of us. Immune.”
“We don’t know I’m immune,” Noah said. “Just that I can’t get it. Yet. But a lot can change.”
Bill shrugged. “Huh. That much is clear. But you know… I just think it’s amazing. That you went through what you went through. And that you’re still here. You’re still going. That’s human spirit right there, ain’t it? No losing your mind. No insanity. Hell. If I’d been cooped up like you were, I reckon I’d have lost my marbles a long time ago.”
Noah thought about Bill’s words. And as much as what happened with Jasmine pained him, he was right. He was still here. He was still pushing on.
He’d lost so much in his life. Suffered so much.
And yet he was still here.
Still going.
Still fighting.
What did that say about him?
“Thanks,” Noah said.
Bill frowned. “Huh?”
“For what you just said then. It’s… it’s more important than I think you realise.”
Bill just shrugged. This happy go lucky guy didn’t seem to know the weight of what he’d just said. How much it meant to Noah. How much of an impact he had.
But he was right.
Noah was one tough motherfucker.
Life wasn’t easy. It was hell.
But he’d withstood pain before, and he’d withstand pain again.
He’d keep on going.
No matter what.
Bill stopped, then. Smiled. Stood there, like he was on a stage, performing to everyone. He cleared his throat, theatrically. “Ladies and gents. If you don’t mind, I’d like to welcome you to my home.”
Noah frowned. He didn’t see it. Not at first.
And then he saw Bill move his arms and point into the distance.
Up ahead, there was a campsite. Static and trailer caravans. A sea of tents.
And people.
“Welcome to Colebridge,” Bill said. “Time to make yourselves at home.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Eddie tucked in to a bag of cheese puffs and couldn’t quite believe this was actually happening.
It was late. Going dark. “Beautiful evening” was something he might say if he gave a crap about the weather. It was warm. Clammy. He wanted a shower. Genuinely couldn’t think of anything better than a nice hot shower right now.
But second best?
The fact he was back with his friends.
He sat outside his tent. The people here seemed nice. Welcoming. Bill introduced him to a few, including Harriet, who ran this place. But it was a bit overwhelming, to be honest. Tomorrow was the day. A proper chance for a fresh start. A new beginning.
And yet despite of all that, despite the fact they were here amongst this community... Eddie still felt like the story was unfinished.
Like something wasn’t quite right.
He knew it was probably just his mind playing tricks. After all, as communities went, this place was good. There was space. There were makeshift walls around the place. Shelter. Water. Food.
And most importantly, people.
People with a vast array of skills.
That’s exactly what the new world needed, and Eddie knew it too damned well.
“Something bothering you?”
Eddie jumped a little. It was only him and Barney sat here, as far as he could tell. He’d spent the last half hour or so just staring into space. Had a chat and a catch up with Noah, which was pretty damned weird in all truth, pretty fucking surreal. They’d all been shown to their tents. Noah. Zelda. Tim. And that guy Paul had been taken to be guarded by Bill.
But Eddie looked around. Saw Kelly by his side. Standing there, holding her arms in front of her body. A little awkwardly.
“Mind if I sit down?” Kelly asked.
Eddie shrugged. “Not at all. Barney here was just telling me how he’s kind of bored of my company already. Figured he wouldn’t mind a chat and a catch up with someone else.”
Kelly rolled her eyes like she always did. Then she sat by Eddie’s side. She was so close he could feel the warmth of her body. Hear her breathing. Smell that sweetness to her blonde hair, no matter how much grime coated it.
They sat there silently for a while. Listening to the crackling of flames. The quiet mumble of voices. Eddie figured there was so much for them to talk about. And yet at the same time, there wasn’t anything to talk about at all. They’d been through their own personal hells. But they were here. They were still here.<
br />
“Looks like something just keeps on bringing us back together, doesn’t it?” Eddie said.
He blushed when he said it. He hadn’t meant to open his mouth and spill like that. To be honest, he was never good with girls. Struggled telling them how he truly felt.
But Kelly.
She was beautiful.
She was out of his league.
And yet here she was.
She glared at him. Narrowed her eyes. “Can you tell me something?”
Eddie scratched the back of his neck. “What?”
“Have you ever, you know, been with a woman?”
He didn’t tell anyone, but he was a virgin. He assumed most people just guessed he was anyway. He wasn’t exactly the best looking guy. Wasn’t the kind of bloke you saw practicing game in nightclubs. He’d had a few online relationships with gamer girls, but two of those turned out to be catfish, and one hacked him and stole all his armour on Runescape, so that was never a strong foundation for a loving future.
“I don’t get what that has to do with—”
“Just answer the damned question, Eddie.”
He looked down at the ground. “Well, um. I mean. I’ve got close. A few times. But—”
“You haven’t. Have you?”
He looked at Kelly, and he could sense the shaming coming. He could feel it all heading towards him, all over again. He’d never find anyone. He’d never settle down. His inexperience was always going to count against him.
He wanted to lie. He wanted to pretend he was a stud when he was younger. Or that at least he’d been with one woman.
But in the end, he found himself telling the truth.
“Never,” he said. “And you know what? I’d be lying if I said I’d ever come close.”
Kelly looked at him. She didn’t burst out laughing. Didn’t look said. She just sat there. Cold, hard stare. Wordless. Kind of freaked him out.
And then she looked away. “Hmm.”
“Hmm? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I guess that’s pretty sad. But it’s not entirely true.”
Eddie frowned. “Not sure I foll—”
“Do you want to?” Kelly asked.
“What?”
“I said, do you want to?”
Eddie’s cheeks felt hotter. His chest felt tight. He stroked Barney so furiously he realised he wasn’t even stroking Barney anymore, but stroking the ground beside him ’cause Barney had disappeared.
“I mean… I guess. It would be nice. To be with someone. But I, erm. Well. I guess now’s not the time to—”
“Do you want to fuck me?”
“Whoa! What the hell?”
“Be straight. Women like honesty. So I’ll ask you again. And this time, you’ll look me in the eye, and you’ll answer me. Eddie. Do you want to fuck me?”
Eddie stared into Kelly’s wide, gorgeous eyes.
His heart pounded.
His chubby neck wobbled.
Every instinct in his body screamed at him to lie.
To run away.
To hide.
But then something else took over.
And it felt liberating.
So damned liberating.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. I do.”
She smiled at him.
Took his hand.
“Come on then,” she said. “You’ve got a lot to learn.”
She dragged him back into his tent.
Barney tried to follow.
“I um… I don’t think you should see this, lad,” Eddie said.
And then Kelly dragged him inside the tent, zipped it shut, and Eddie thought for two long minutes that he might actually have found something he loved more than cheese puffs in life.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bill hated guard duty, but he figured seeing as he’d brought these people to Colebridge, it was only fair that he should take watch of the prisoner.
It was night. Pitch black. The nights were always peaceful, but a little alarming, too. He thought back to when he was a kid, and when he used to beg his parents not to switch the little night light plugged into the mains off. He swore he couldn’t sleep without it. Begged them to keep it on so the monsters couldn’t get him.
But every time he woke up the following morning, that light would be off, and he was okay.
Didn’t convince him, though.
He looked at the tents. At the caravans. At the walls. The community of Colebridge wasn’t perfect. But it was something. There were people from all walks of life. People with various skill sets. But most importantly, people were on the same page. They were united. They wanted the same. They worked together. All a part of the screening process of this place.
Bill just hoped he was right about the new arrivals.
He heard coughing from the cabin behind him.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. Turned around and went inside, water bottle in hand.
The prisoner, Paul, was tied to a bench. He was gagged. Hard to see him in this darkness, but he didn’t have to see him anyway. He knew exactly where he was.
He walked over to him. Stood opposite him.
“Try and quiet down with the hackling,” Bill said. “People are trying to sleep here.”
He stood there holding that water bottle. For a minute, he thought about turning around. Leaving him in here. He’d heard about the horrors Paul was responsible for. Heard about the place he came from. The things they did there. Made him feel uneasy. A little sick, in all truth. And he wasn’t sure that Noah guy had even told him the full story.
But then he heard what Noah said, and he wondered if maybe Paul had a point.
Maybe he was just trying to help out.
Maybe he was just trying to save people in the only ways he could.
He lowered Paul’s gag.
Paul gasped. Coughed a little lighter. “Thank you. I’m not gonna kick up a fuss, don’t you worry. I just need a breather.”
Bill stood his ground. “You want some water?”
“I’m fine for water.”
Bill reached for the gag again. “Then I’m afraid there’s no reason for you to—”
“Please,” Paul said. “Just… hear me out.”
“You’ve got ten seconds, and then this gag goes back on, and you don’t get any water for the rest of the night. Understand?”
“The man. Noah. And Kelly, too. Less so, but still. You—you have to understand. They are valuable. Deeply, deeply valuable to the recovery effort in this country. To the recovery effort globally.”
“Five seconds. I don’t hear any water requests.”
“And if you could help me get them back, I’d make sure you and your people were safe for as long as this thing carries on and—and I’d make sure you’d go down as the hero who helped save the world.”
Bill paused at that. He wasn’t sure how much of Paul’s words were true. Didn’t know how feasible they were. Statement surely sounded grand.
But that promise.
The promise of helping his people out.
And the promise of recognition.
Recognition he’d craved his whole goddamned life. Recognition he’d never got as a boy in school. Recognition he’d never got at home because his two ballerina sisters were far more successful than he was. Recognition he’d never even got in marriage, ’cause his wife was never truly attracted to him, and he goddamned knew it.
“You’d better give me one good reason not to go tell Noah exactly what you’ve just said to me.”
“One good reason?” Paul said. “I can give you plenty. First, you have no idea what you’re involved in here. I promise you one thing. If you keep on going down the road you are, you’re going to be destroyed. All of your people are going to be destroyed.”
“Doesn’t sound like the carrot approach. More the stick.”
“It’s the truth. I’m… I’m carrying something. A tracking device. Soon, a group of mean motherfuckers from the place I’m from are going to arriv
e here, and they are going to rain hell on this place and every single person here. I’m not telling you this to scare you. I’m telling you this because it can still be prevented. And you’d want to prevent bloodshed. Wouldn’t you?”
Bill didn’t know what to say. He felt torn. Torn between his people and the new arrivals. Torn between everything.
“Or,” Paul said. “You can let me free. And you can capture Noah and Kelly. The pair of them will do. The others, they can stay. We don’t mean any harm to them. But you capture Noah and Kelly. And you bring them to me. Nobody ever has to know it was you. You can tell their friends I escaped. I beat you up and kidnapped them. And then I walk away. The three of us walk away. You won’t hear from us again. Not until the day you’re receiving food drops. And supplies. And then medals for your bravery. How does that sound?”
Bill stood there. Heart racing.
Everything about this felt so wrong.
And yet so right.
“What do you say?” Paul asked. “Are we going to do this? Or are you going to heap unnecessary misery on your people?”
Bill looked outside.
Looked at the darkness.
Looked at the tents.
And then he turned around and looked back at Paul.
He reached over to him.
Grabbed him by the throat.
Held it. Tight.
Saw the fear in Paul’s eyes. Just for a moment.
“You’d better not be fucking with me,” Bill said.
And then he uncuffed Paul.
Untied him from the bench.
He watched Paul stand. Saw him step into the moonlight. Smile. Slowly.
“Good man,” Paul said. “You’ve just made the best choice in your whole damned life. Now, let’s get this done with.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Noah heard the rustling outside his tent and opened his eyes.
It was pitch black. He knew where he was right away, though. No confusion. No fears he was back at the compound. He was in Colebridge. Slept on that floor of the tent far, far better than he’d slept in weeks. Slipped quickly into a dark, dreamless sleep.
But then he’d heard something. Something outside his tent.
Footsteps.
He sat up. Heart racing. His mouth was dry. His chest, still a little achy, and his body was weak from all the ordeals it’d been through. Figured that’d be the case for a long while. Hell, he’d be lucky if he ever felt truly “better” again.