by Ryan Casey
Noah felt the sharp pain in his arm and jolted awake.
He was in a room he didn’t recognise. A bright room. The air smelled medicinal. He could taste something at the back of his throat. Something burning, acidic, like vomit. His breathing was heavy. His head felt groggy, cloudy.
It didn’t take him long to realise what this was.
Where this was.
Dr Jenkinson stood opposite. He was dressed in medical gear now, the full-blown quarantine works, with a protective visor and gloves. He was holding a syringe, which wormed its way into Noah’s left arm. Right away, blood started draining out of him, filling a bag.
“Noah,” Dr Jenkinson said. “Good of you to join us.”
Noah tried to shake free, but he still felt weak and groggy. Like his body was a few steps behind his mind, somehow. “Kelly,” he said. “Where’s…”
“You don’t have to worry about your friend,” Dr Jenkinson said. “She’s fine. Very cooperative, actually. Remarkably cooperative for her, anyway. You know how she usually is. Quite a feisty one. I suppose the drugs will help with that.”
Noah clenched a fist. Tried to move again. But he just felt so sluggish. So… out of sync with reality.
And that blood.
That blood kept on pumping out of his arm.
He wanted to just close his heavy eyelids. Drift back to sleep.
But he knew he couldn’t.
Not that he could do anything. Not that he could act.
But any act of defiance would do.
He couldn’t just give up. He couldn’t just roll over. He couldn’t just accept his fate.
“Sleep, if you need to,” Dr Jenkinson said. “We really don’t need you awake for this. We might require your consciousness a little further down the line. But for now… relax those eyes.”
Noah’s eyes drooped and drifted. He looked over Dr Jenkinson’s shoulder. Saw Matt standing there, rifle in hand. Smirk on his face. Like he had some sort of personal vendetta against Noah. Like things were personal, even though Noah didn’t feel anything in particular for this numbskull.
“Remember,” Noah muttered, looking the guard right in the eyes. “Remember what I told you.”
Dr Jenkinson glared around at Matt, a little bemused. “What’s all this about then?”
Matt’s gaze faltered. His smile dipped. “Something this faggot said, sir.”
“Wow. Strong language. Sounds like it really got to you.”
As if realising his composure had slipped, Matt straightened his posture right away. Took a few steadying, visible breaths. “Not at all, sir.”
Dr Jenkinson held that stare. “I should expect not. Now. Where was I. Ah yes…”
He turned back to Noah. Had something in hand. Another long needle. Noah had no idea where he planned on sticking it. No idea what he planned on doing with it.
But he couldn’t help feeling terrified.
He thought about his younger brother, Kyle. And he hoped for the sake of his parents that he wouldn’t die on a hospital slab, too. He knew they’d never have to know. He knew they’d never have to know a thing.
But just the idea. It was torturous.
No parents deserved that.
Dr Jenkinson walked over to Noah. Needle in hand. Smirk on his face. So self-assured. So self-satisfied.
“I’m serious when I say I’m appreciative of your co-operation, Noah. You might’ve been disruptive in the past. But really. It does go an awful long way.”
He moved that needle to Noah’s neck.
“Now sleep. Whether you like it or not. Sleep.”
He pressed the needle against Noah’s neck.
Noah held his breath.
Clenched his fists.
Braced himself for—
The door at the corner of the medical room swung open.
A man ran in. A guard. One of the three guards who’d escorted Noah over here.
“Sir,” the guard said.
Dr Jenkinson turned around. Needle still in hand. Frowning. “What’s the problem?”
“You—you need to see this.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“Sir… I’m serious. You need to see this. Right this second.”
Dr Jenkinson stood there a few seconds. Frozen. Part annoyed. But also clearly part curious, too.
And all Noah could do was lie there on that slab.
No clue what was happening. No idea what this was all about.
“Matt? Watch our friend here for a moment. I should go see what Lance is so hung up about.”
He looked at Noah.
And Noah thought, for the first time, he saw something in Dr Jenkinson’s eyes.
Fear.
He turned around. Followed Lance out of the medical bay.
And Noah lay there.
Alone with Matt.
Matt waited until Dr Jenkinson’s footsteps disappeared.
He waited until he was absolutely sure he was gone.
And then he walked over to the medical instruments at the side of the room.
He rustled around them. And then he dug out a pair of pliers. Examined them.
And then he walked across the room.
Over to Noah’s side.
Noah stared up at him. At that sadistic look on his face. At those pliers in his hand.
And for a moment, Noah wished to God Dr Jenkinson had counted how many teeth he had before he’d left the room.
“Not so cocky anymore, are we?” Matt said.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Dr Jenkinson stepped outside the compound doors and knew right away that something had changed.
The skies were grey. Specks of cold rain dashed down against his skin. He could hear movement around him. Panicked voices of the guards. Whispering to one another. Speculating. Fearful.
And rightly so.
Because what was staring at them on the horizon was very fearful indeed.
Up ahead, at the top of the hill, Dr Jenkinson saw a mass of people. They were all running in this direction. Some of them stumbling. Some of them barely walking.
But all of them heading this way.
Hundreds of them. Maybe even a thousand.
A whole wave of them, building and building as they got closer and closer to this compound.
Infected.
No doubt about that.
“What should we do, sir?”
Dr Jenkinson looked around. Lance stared at him, wide-eyed. Terrified, just like everyone else. And he understood that fear. He got it. This was unlike anything they’d ever seen. This was not something any of them had bargained for. Not even him.
And yet it made sense.
In a weird kind of way, it made sense.
The beacon.
The way Trojan worked.
“They fear their destruction,” Dr Jenkinson said. “Trojan senses the end is coming. And it’s located that. It’s traced it. To here. It’s… it’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”
Lance cleared his throat. Lifted his rifle. A few of the other guards staggered off inside, breaking their chain of command to get out of the way of this oncoming mass. “Sir, I appreciate this is pretty confusing right now. But we need to decide what in the name of hell we’re gonna do here.”
Dr Jenkinson looked at that swarm of infected, and he removed his glasses. Wiped a tear from his eye. Because this really was the perfect virus. Trojan worked in ways he didn’t understand. It surprised him on a daily basis.
But this…
The hive mind he’d spoken about.
That desire of the virus to live. To prosper.
And then there was Noah.
He thought about the readings. His blood. How his immune system fought that virus off, no matter how much they tried to pump it inside him or trick his system. They’d even given him immunosuppressants to see if that made a difference.
But the same results, every time.
The virus just died inside him.
And as he watched these speedy
bodies race their way towards him, towards his compound, towards his home, he knew what was coming. He knew the end was in sight.
But he knew who the most important person in this place was.
And why it was so damned important to protect him.
Because if this hive mind really did work as he suspected… and if Noah really was as special as he thought, then he needed to get him to safety.
He needed to get him away from here.
No matter what it took.
He looked around at his guards. So loyal. Still standing there. Still by his side.
And then he looked at the compound, and he thought very carefully about what he was going to do next.
“Stay here,” Dr Jenkinson said.
Lance looked back at him, eyes wide. “But—”
“Hold them off.”
“But there’s—there’s hundreds of them—”
“Hold them off for as long as you can,” Dr Jenkinson barked. “That is your duty.”
He saw the terrified looks on the faces of his guards.
He saw the discontent growing amongst them.
He saw a few of them turn around. Flee.
Showing their true colours.
But Dr Jenkinson didn’t have time to waste here.
He turned and rushed inside the compound.
Took one look back at the oncoming mass of infected.
Felt a smile creep across his face.
“Perfect,” he said. “Just perfect.”
And then he slammed the compound doors shut and activated the triple-lock.
He heard the screams outside, just for a moment. Heard the gunshots. Heard the banging to let those terrified guards inside.
But Dr Jenkinson only had one goal in mind.
Find Noah.
Get him somewhere safe.
And protect him.
No matter what.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Eddie ran as fast as he could without looking back.
The skies were dark. Rain fell from above. Somewhere overhead, he heard thunder. Swore he saw a flash of lightning, too.
But the only thing he could focus on was the ground ahead.
The compound in the distance.
They had to get there.
It might be their only chance of survival now.
Especially with what was coming.
He couldn’t look back. He didn’t have to. He already knew what was coming. The rumbling of footsteps against the dry earth. The agonised snarls, getting progressively louder. And that stench. That undeniable stench of rot, so strong he could taste it. So strong it made him want to puke his guts up.
But he couldn’t stop for anything.
He had to keep on running as fast as he possibly could.
No.
Faster.
Because this onslaught of infected wasn’t stopping.
And if they didn’t keep going, they were going to get caught up in their awful wave.
Zelda ran by his side. Tim at the other side. Up ahead, Barney, racing along like this was just a fun kind of exercise for him. Eddie envied his ignorance. What he’d give not to know a thing about the nature of the threat heading their way right now. What he’d give for ignorance.
He saw movement up ahead at the gates of the compound. Guards with their rifles lifted. And he knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Nothing was to stop them firing at Eddie and his friends, mistaking them for the infected.
Or not at all. Just taking them out regardless.
Whatever the case, they didn’t really have much of a choice.
Only to keep on going.
Keep on running.
And keep on praying to God for a miracle.
Eddie felt that sharp pain in his chest. Felt it like a punch, square between his ribs. He staggered a little. Stumbled. Slowed down. And made the mistake of looking over his shoulder, too. The biggest damned mistake he’d ever made—and he’d made a few.
That sea of infected was closer than he imagined. A good fifty metres or so, but a lot closer than they had been.
“We need to move faster,” Eddie said. “We need to keep on running.”
“Thanks for the memo, genius,” Zelda shouted. “Come on! Unless you actually want to die.”
He turned around from the dead and started running again. And despite the horror of the moment, despite the terror of this whole frigging terrifying as shit situation, he couldn’t help thinking of Noah and Kelly.
His best friend.
The girl he swore he goddamned loved.
He was going to find them.
He was going to save them.
Or he was going to die trying—
“Fuck!”
He stopped and spun around.
Tim was on the ground.
Holding his ankle.
Agony across his face.
“Eddie!” Zelda shouted, racing on. “It’s too late!”
And Eddie knew Zelda was right. Logically, anyway. Every second wasted was a chance for those infected to hurtle ever closer. There was no time to waste.
“Eddie, don’t fucking do this!” Zelda shouted.
He watched her run on. Barney by her side. He wanted to join her. Wanted to reach that compound with her.
But then he looked back around at Tim.
“Fuck it,” he said. “You helped me before. And I don’t leave anyone behind.”
He ran over to Tim. Dragged him to his feet. The infected were just ten metres or so away now.
“You gonna be able to run on it?” Eddie asked.
Tim shook his head. Tears streamed down his face. “I—I don’t think so.”
“Then we’ll walk.”
“You should keep going,” Tim said. “I’ll just slow you down—”
“Snap out of that right now, fella. I’m not leaving you behind.”
“But—”
“Hey. I’m not leaving you behind because you’re my friend. Okay?”
Tim looked him in the eye, and he smiled at him. Despite all the awfulness, all the horror, he smiled.
“You’re a good man, Eddie,” he said, as those footsteps hurtled closer towards them, threatened to swallow them whole. “A really good man. I’m sorry I was harsh with you at first. And I’m… I’m sorry about this, too.”
Eddie shook his head. Those footsteps so close. That compound still too far away. He listened to the pepper of gunfire start to rattle out from the guards at the front of the compound. And he knew it was too late. He knew there was no chance he was getting there.
But maybe Zelda and Barney would.
And that was because of him.
That was because he’d kept on pressing.
That’s ’cause he’d not lost his hope.
He was a fighter.
The toughest damned person Kelly had ever known. In her own words.
He smiled as he staggered along with Tim’s arm around his shoulder.
Those shrieks just feet away.
The smells intoxicating.
The footsteps so close to swallowing them all up completely.
And a tear trickled down his face, but he smiled.
“Not this time, piggy,” he muttered. “Used up your nine lives already, boy.”
He felt the cold force hurtle against his back.
He closed his eyes.
And in the darkness of the stormy skies, he let the crowd engulf him and Tim.
But he never stopped smiling.
Chapter Forty-Nine
“Not so cocky anymore, are we?” Matt said.
Noah lay back against the metal slab. His body felt weak. His throat was sore as shit. He wanted to get up and fight, but he wasn’t sure he was physically capable in all truth. Whatever they’d pumped into his body had taken it out of him, well and truly. He couldn’t argue. Couldn’t fight.
All he could do was lie there while Matt stepped towards him, those pliers in hand.
Matt walked across the room. Noah was vague
ly aware of some commotion outside. Shouting. Every now and then, he swore he even heard gunfire.
And there was something else, too. Some kind of rumbling on the horizon. Vibrations.
Maybe it was just the drugs messing with his head, but he didn’t like it.
Matt stepped right up to him. Stood by his side. Smile on his face. Dark circles lining his eyes. “You know, I’m not gonna pretend anymore. I’ve never liked you. Right since the first time I met you. You’ve always just had one of these… well. These faggoty faces about you. And it’s made me want to punch the hell out of you. It’s made me want to kick the shit out of you. A lot.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. It was all he could do. “Charming.”
The man shook his head. “See, it’s wisecracks like that which make me hate you even more. But I want you to know something, pal.”
He grabbed Noah by his hair. Leaned right in, so close Noah could smell his acrid breath.
“Jenkinson said he wanted you alive. But alive doesn’t mean I can’t put you through a little bit of hurt first.”
He slammed Noah’s head back against the metal slab. And then he lifted that spanner. Opened Noah’s mouth as wide as he could.
And the grimmest thing of all?
Noah was too damned weak to even bite hard.
He shoved the pliers into Noah’s mouth. Wrapped them around his two front teeth. “You know, I never liked Paul. But he told me you did something to him. Something real nasty. Never got the chance to finish it off ’cause he sang like a bird, from what I hear. But it gave me an idea. You’ve got these nice big white pearly teeth. How about I take ’em out for you? That’ll wipe the smile off your face, won’t it?”
Noah lay there. Heart racing. Wanting to fight. But knowing he couldn’t even if he was able to.
And then Matt stepped back. “Hell. This ain’t no fair fight, is it? How about this. I cut your wrists free, and we keep it a nice little secret between us. ’Cause there’s no pleasure in torturing a man, is there? How about I give you a chance to fight, hmm? A chance to show me what you’re made of? How’s that sound?”
Noah wasn’t sure what to think. The last thing he wanted was to fight this guy. He knew he’d get pasted. Especially in his current state.
But maybe if he was free, it wasn’t exactly going to affect his odds.