by Ryan Casey
“I’m Dr Jenkinson,” he said. “I would offer to shake your hand, but quite frankly, I’m not much of a lover of physical contact in the first place. Even before this whole pandemic.”
“I don’t give a shit who you are,” Noah said. “How about we just cut through the crap and get to why we’re here?”
Dr Jenkinson’s smile widened. “You really have been ground down by this world, haven’t you? Most of you would leap at the opportunity to satiate your curiosity. Of which I’m sure you have. In abundance.”
Noah wasn’t in a mood to chat. But he did have questions. And he was pretty sure if things were going the way they were, he wouldn’t have many more opportunities for answers. “I know there’s some kind of biologically engineered virus out there. I know it’s unlike any virus ever known to man. And I know me and Kelly here are supposedly immune. That’s why we’re important. Because you want to devise some kind of cure.”
Dr Jenkinson’s eyes widened. “Paul really never was good at keeping his lips sealed, was he? Ah well. I suppose I won’t hold it against him. I’ll bet you can be quite rough when it gets to it. But broadly, yes. What Paul told you is true. You might call it a virus. We have a name for it. Quite simple. Quite cliché, you could say. But we call it Trojan.”
“Trojan,” Noah said. “Very original.”
“Originality is the least of our concerns right now. Trojan works peculiarly. It convinces the human body that it’s good for it. It works its way inside. Woos every inch of the body like heroin. And then once it has control, it acts. But not before one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Before infecting as many people as it possibly can.”
Noah nodded. “I’m guessing that’s why shit all started happening so suddenly that first day. There were already a bunch of people infected.”
“Yes. For as long as a few weeks, perhaps. But Trojan is unlike anything we’ve encountered.”
“So you keep saying.”
“It can occupy the dead. Reanimate them, for a time, anyway. And it seems to act as a kind of hive mind, too. We’re early in our research on this. But it appears that those infected with Trojan can act as a kind of beacon to one another.”
“To serve what purpose?” Noah asked.
“Ah. Now you are curious. Okay. We believe that those infected with Trojan create something of an infective zone. This explains why someone previously without it can suddenly come down with it. They only have to be in proximity with it to catch it. And the wider the radius, the more infective it is.
“This beacon serves another purpose, too. A somewhat more frightening purpose.”
“This shit gets more frightening?” Kelly asked. “Just what I needed.”
Dr Jenkinson smiled. “The infected. We believe they can communicate with each other. At a base level. So any uninfected one of them sights, they can call on others to attack. Kind of like a honing device. Much at the level it works in ants or wasps.”
Noah shook his head. “All this is fascinating. And shit-scary. Really. But none of it explains my purpose in all this. Or Kelly’s purpose. If so many people are already infected, then how on earth do you plan on distributing any kind of cure?”
Dr Jenkinson smiled. “Don’t you see it yet? You and Kelly are different. Very, very different. But valuable, in rather different ways. Kelly. You might have recovered, but believe me when I tell you that you are infected. You are inadvertently acting as a beacon, whether you like it or not. I’m sorry to have to serve you with a death sentence. But it is what it is.”
Kelly looked a little pale at that. But she seemed to be keeping her cool. “I’ve been hurt worse in breakups. Don’t lose any sleep.”
“But Noah,” Dr Jenkinson said. “You are a special case.”
“Not the first time he’s heard that, either,” Kelly jibed.
Dr Jenkinson ignored her. “We expected you to show some sign of Trojan. Especially with the company you’ve kept. We expected you to follow the same patterns as every other damned human being on this planet. But there’s something different about you.”
“Let me guess,” Noah said. “No trace.”
“Not just that,” Dr Jenkinson said. “We tried pumping Trojan into your bloodstream.”
“Jeez. Thanks.”
“We pumped so much into your bloodstream that you should’ve died within minutes.”
“Again. Thanks.”
“But you just fought it off. Your body. Something about you just… cleansed it away. And that’s why you’re important. Because if we can figure out what it is about you that is different from every single one of our case studies so far, then maybe we can figure out a way to defeat Trojan. Once and for all.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Noah asked. “Turn me into a lab rat.”
Dr Jenkinson smirked. “I have a theory. But that theory will require your cooperation. Willing or not, I don’t care. I’m just being polite. But if Trojan acts as a beacon… maybe there’s a way to channel whatever you have running through your body as some kind of anti-beacon. A kind of army against the virus itself. Does that make sense?”
“Not in the slightest. Not in the real world, anyway. But I’m going to guess you don’t really care what I think, do you?”
“You’re right about that,” Dr Jenkinson said.
He took another few steps towards Noah.
“You’re right about something else, too.”
Noah opened his mouth.
Before he could, a needle jabbed into his neck.
Kelly let out a cry.
Needle in her throat, too.
He tried to kick out as his body went numb. As his muscles went weak. As all his senses started to blur and fade.
“You’ve had it easy,” Dr Jenkinson said. “But we won’t go easy on you. Not anymore.”
Noah tried to reach out. To kick Dr Jenkinson. To bite him. To do anything to him. Just whatever it took.
But then he slumped to the ground.
Lay there.
Stared up at the blurry figures above him.
And as someone reached down, lifted him, and he felt himself begin to hover, a strange thought entered his mind.
He was never going to see daylight again.
He was never going to smell the fresh, warm summer air again.
He was...
Chapter Forty-Four
Zelda wasn’t interested in small talk.
She never had been. Never from being a kid. Always found it tiring. She never understood why people had to play games. Pretending they were interested in other people. Pretending they really cared. Interaction had never come easy for her. Probably explained why she was always such a lone wolf.
She walked along the long, empty road. Held her knife in hand. It wasn’t as comforting as holding a shotgun, but she knew how to use it, so she fancied her chances. Tim walked alongside her. He kept on trying to start conversation. Didn’t seem to be picking up on the signs that she wasn’t here to talk. She’d thought about abandoning him a few times. Leaving him to look after this dog, Barney, which she thought was a stupid name, but then people thought her name was stupid too, so hey.
But she hadn’t really figured out what she was going to do yet.
For now, she’d keep walking and see where this road took her.
She thought back to the scene at the campsite. She should’ve seen it coming. Those people who’d taken Noah and Kelly away, they didn’t look like the kind to compromise. She could see it in their eyes. Maybe all too well. She had a shade of that disconnect in her own eyes, too.
She thought back to her childhood. Unlike other kids, she spent most of her days locked in her bedroom. Unsurprisingly, her favourite game was Zelda. She was obsessed with Ocarina of Time. She’d lose herself in Link’s adventure. Or just start her own adventure in that vast, open world.
She’d hide from the shouts downstairs.
From the smell of alcohol.
From real life.
>
“She’s a freak, Sal. She needs to get outside. Needs to get some real friends of her own. It ain’t healthy!”
She pushed those thoughts aside. Dwelling on hurtful memories didn’t bring anyone any peace. Humanity as a whole could learn a lot from that.
“How far d’you reckon we’ve got left?” Tim asked.
Zelda sighed. “We’ll know we’re there when we get there.”
“Not the answer I was looking for, really.”
“Only answer I’ve got. Anyway. The more you talk, the less you walk. Conserve your energy for something useful.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Zelda gritted her teeth. “Did you not hear what I just said?”
“Your real name,” Tim said. “It ain’t Zelda. Is it?”
Zelda heard her real name echoing in her skull.
“Sarah! Get your skinny arse down those stairs now and explain why the fuck you’ve been skiving school again!”
Sarah. It seemed so detached from her. So distant from her. It wasn’t a part of her identity. Not anymore.
She’d had to live as Sarah in the real world, of course. For many years since.
But that was one of the perks of this new world.
She could become whoever she wanted to become.
She could be whoever she said she was.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s my real name.”
“Bullshit.”
“What about your name? Tim? Is that your real name?”
Tim scratched his head. “Well, yeah. But—”
“And my real name’s Zelda. Why’s that such a surprise to you?”
“I just… I dunno. I’ve met a few Tims. Not sure I’ve seen many Zeldas about. Only in Mario Land.”
Zelda sighed. “You really are a grade-A buffoon, aren’t you?”
Tim genuinely didn’t realise his mistake, by the looks of things. Mario Land. What an idiot.
“Sorry,” Tim said. “If I talk a lot. I just… I guess it helps takes my mind off stuff. My uncle. My brother. Then the rest of those people back there. All within, like, two days. It’s rough, you know? I don’t think it’s properly hit me yet. Like, I want to cry, but I feel too weak to even do that. I just want to get to Lancaster, and then I can start grieving. But as long as I’m out here… well. There’s no grieving for me.”
Zelda felt a speck of sympathy at that. Maybe she was being a little harsh on Tim. He’d been through his fair share of tragedy. That demanded a bit of compassion. “You need to let those feelings come. Whether you like them or not. You need to process them. Don’t suppress them. Suppression just makes you bitter and angry. And that’s not a place you want to be.”
“Sound like you know a thing or two about that.”
Zelda sighed. “Believe me. I do. Come on. Walk.”
They kept on heading down the streets. Zelda thought a lot about what Tim had said. Sound like you know a thing or two about that.
She thought about the times she’d suppressed her emotions. Hid away from reality. And while it brought temporary relief, it did nothing long-term for her but dig her into a deeper hole.
A hole she’d never really climbed out of.
Sarah!
When she was younger.
Then the other name.
The name she didn’t like thinking about because of what it meant.
Why it meant.
“I need to take a leak,” Tim said. “Give me a sec.”
Zelda frowned. “Nothing stopping you doing it right there.”
“Um, yeah. There is. I’m not pissing in the middle of the road.”
“Something to hide?”
“From you? Hell yeah.”
He disappeared behind a Land Rover. Zelda was half-tempted to go around it and sneak up on him. Might bring her some amusement for the day.
She looked at the dog. It stared back up at her, tilting its head, whining a little. The clouds had thickened. A coolness to the air. A silence, but for the wind brushing across the streets.
“What?” she said, glaring at the dog. She didn’t like dogs. Didn’t see the appeal in projecting human traits onto an animal only for it to die young and leave her wounded. No chance was she treating it like the others did. She’d feed it. Water it. That was enough.
She listened to the sound of Tim’s piss hitting the side of the car and rolled her eyes. “You nearly done there, or have you found a hosepipe?”
“About halfway there,” Tim called.
Zelda shook her head. “Jesus. You…”
She stopped.
Froze.
’Cause she saw something up ahead.
Right down the road.
Tim kept on jabbering on.
But she didn’t hear a word.
She walked down the street.
Closer, so she could see.
So she could be sure.
“Zelda?” Tim said. “What’s up?”
She stood there and stared at the scene in the distance, and every inch of her body went cold.
“We need to get away from here,” she said.
“What—”
“We need to turn around and get the hell away from here. Right this second.”
She knew Tim hadn’t seen it properly. Hadn’t processed it. Not yet.
But when the realisation crossed his pale face, Zelda thought she’d never seen a person look so haunted by something they’d seen.
That’s how she felt too.
Chapter Forty-Five
Eddie saw the big prison-like structure on the horizon, and he knew it had to be the place.
It was cloudy. Looked stormy as hell. Made him laugh a little. Maybe he was going mad. Maybe he was losing his mind. But why did the weather always seem to take a turn when shit was getting real? Really was the least of his damned concerns right now.
But hell. He’d just turned his back on the chance of finding safety with Tim, Zelda, and Barney. He was heading right into the eye of a storm to save his best mate and a girl he was convinced he was in love with, even if she didn’t feel the same way.
Oh. And he’d got laid last night.
By that same beautiful girl.
Life really was strange right now, so why not make the most of it?
The building up ahead was huge. Barbed wire fences all around it. Grey-bricked walls. He could see movement. Guards. And he knew they probably had eyes on his fat belly right now already. He was fucked. He was just heading deeper and deeper into Fuckville. No turning back now. In way too deep for that.
He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Hell, it even smelled like a storm was on the way. An earthiness to the air. A dryness to his lips. His body shaking with adrenaline, with fear.
“No turning back now, fatso,” he muttered, imitating the voice of Damien, who used to bully him back at school. “Only one way forward!”
He walked further down this slope, down this hill, and he wondered just what the hell he was going to do when he got there. Knock on the gates? Tell them to move the hell aside cause Big Eddie was here and there’d be trouble if they didn’t let Noah and Kelly free? There was literally no way this worked out well for him.
But he did have something.
Whatever they saw in Kelly, they had to see in him, too.
’Cause he’d been infected once.
He’d made a recovery, just like she had.
So he was valuable to them.
Maybe he could use that value to his advantage.
Hell. Maybe he could trade places with Kelly.
A lot of crazy thoughts were taking up his mind right now.
The sooner he got there, the better.
He’d winged things his whole damned life. Wasn’t gonna stop any time soon. It’d got him this far, after all. Who’d’ve thunk it? Not Damien. Not even Noah. Not even his damned self.
But here he was.
A survivor.
And he wasn’t gonna stop surviving any time soon.
He
got further down the hill. Thought he felt a speck of rain to the air. Suddenly became very conscious that he was being watched. That someone was close. The snipers. Or the guards at the place.
Or something else.
Come to think of it he hadn’t bumped into any infected for a long time. Hadn’t even seen any dead bodies lining the sides of the streets.
And it unsettled him a bit. ’Cause they had to be out there somewhere.
But where?
Where the hell were they?
He went to take another step when he heard something.
Footsteps.
Behind him.
He froze. His mind screaming at him. Your luck’s out, big lad. They’re here already. They’re coming for you.
He closed his eyes. Swallowed a lump in his throat.
Then he turned around with that baseball bat in hand, and he got ready to fight.
When he saw them racing over the hill towards him, he wasn’t sure what to think.
“Guys?” he said.
Zelda.
Tim.
And Barney.
His first thought was amazement. They’d actually come to help him out. They were gonna stand by his side and figure out something with him. All of them. Together.
But then he realised something.
The fear on their faces.
The looks in their eyes.
They weren’t running towards him. Not only that, anyway.
They were running from something.
“Guys?” Eddie said. “What’s—”
“They’re coming, Eddie,” Tim said.
“What’s coming? Who is?”
And that’s when he heard them.
Footsteps.
So many footsteps, it felt like the ground was shaking.
He looked over at the trees.
Saw the leaves shaking with the movement.
“What’s—what’s happening?” Eddie asked.
Tim rested his hands on his knees, caught his breath.
Zelda just stood there.
Looked at the trees.
Then around, into Eddie’s eyes.
Haunted.
“Zelda? What’s happening?”
She told him.
And at that moment, Eddie felt true fear.
Chapter Forty-Six