Apocalypse

by Ryan Casey

  “Come on,” Matt said, leaning over, uncuffing Noah. “Let’s get those wrists uncuffed and get you on your feet.”

  It happened suddenly.

  The snapping away of his cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

  And then the forceful dragging of Noah to his feet like he was nothing more than a ragdoll.

  He dropped him. Noah tried to keep his balance, but he was dizzy, disoriented.

  He tried to steady himself. Tried to balance—

  And then a crack knocked him right back to the floor.

  “Come on,” Matt shouted. “Get up. You can do better than that.”

  Noah rolled over onto his side. He could taste blood. Fragments of loose teeth scratched his cheeks. He looked around, dizzy, disoriented, at Matt. Standing there. Fists raised like he was some kind of boxer.

  “Come on!” Matt shouted. “What the hell’s your problem?”

  Noah turned onto his knees. He held himself up as high as he could with his weak, shaky arms. Spat out some blood.

  And then he raised to his feet again.

  No sooner had he been standing than Matt’s pliers cracked into his head, knocking him clean to the floor once again.

  He hit the hard floor with a crack. He knew this was just going to go on and on, as long as it kept him alive. Matt was right. It didn’t matter to Jenkinson what state Noah was in, as long as he was alive.

  “One more shot, hmm?” Matt said. “One more crack at that faggotty face. How’s that sound?”

  Noah looked up. He wasn’t sure he had the energy left in his body to get up, not again.

  But he gripped the side of the slab, and he felt something.

  Something loose.

  But something that came free into his grip.

  A needle.

  That needle Dr Jenkinson had put down.

  Right by the side of the bed.

  “Come on, pretty boy. What you waiting for?”

  Noah quietly curled his fingers around that needle.

  He made it look like he was trying to stand. Like he was making an effort to get to his feet again.

  And then he slumped back to the floor and closed his eyes slightly.

  Silence. Silence, for a few seconds.

  And then: “Shit. What the fuck have I done? Come on, man. You can’t be that weak. It was just a little fun. Really?”

  Matt walked over to Noah.

  Leaned right over him.

  His smelly breath in his face, all over again.

  “Noah? Come on, buddy. I was only messing with you. Don’t—”

  Noah swung the needle and buried it into Matt’s throat.

  He pressed it down. Hard. Saw Matt’s eyes widen as he realised what was happening. As he stood there, leaning over, frothing at the lips.

  “Remember this ‘faggoty face’,” Noah said. “It’ll be the last face you see.”

  Matt reached for his neck. Confused. Puzzled. “Bastard. You… you bas...”

  And then he fell to his knees.

  The needle still buried in his neck.

  The syringe dangling out flimsily.

  He shook. Convulsed. And then he threw up. Vomit at first. But then, blood. Lots of blood.

  And as he lay there, turning paler, losing all his strength, Noah pulled himself to his feet with all the strength he had.

  He searched Matt’s body. Found a keycard. Just one. Cell C18. Kelly had to be there. She had to be.

  He grabbed the rifle from Matt’s loosened grip.

  And then he grabbed a few other things from the trays, as weak as he felt. Knives. Scalpels.

  And then he walked over to the door as Matt lay dying on the floor, and he took a few deep breaths.

  He didn’t know what was out there.

  But he knew one thing for sure.

  He was finding Kelly.

  He was getting the fuck out of this place.

  And this time, it was for good.

  Chapter Fifty

  Dr Jenkinson stepped up to the doors of the room where Noah was being kept, and he knew something was wrong right away.

  The door wasn’t as he left it. It wasn’t slammed shut perfectly or neatly. He figured it could just be coincidence or a miss-sight on his part. After all, he had left that room in quite a rush.

  But something in his consciousness told him that no. He had shut that door. He had shown the same care he always showed.

  So something was wrong.

  He walked up to that door. Held his pistol in hand. He’d never had to use it so far. He hoped he wouldn’t have to now.

  When he opened the door, the first thing he noticed was the empty metal slab.

  Noah was gone. Nowhere to be seen. There were objects all over the place. Medical equipment thrown across the floor.

  And there was something else, too.

  “Oh, Matt.”

  Dr Jenkinson walked in the room. Walked across the blood and puke smeared floor. He stood over Matt as he crouched there, needle sticking out of his neck.

  “You always were a fucking unreliable idiot at heart, weren’t you?” he said.

  He looked down at him as he lay there. Still. Silent.

  Then he watched him start to twitch.

  Watched his eyes open.

  The serum. The virus. So much Trojan he’d be awake in a flash.

  He lifted his pistol and pointed it at Matt with a steady hand. Outside, he could hear gunshots. Shouting. Chaos.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this to you. Truly. But it didn’t have to come to this.”

  And then he pulled the trigger.

  Blew Matt’s brains all over the floor.

  He lowered his pistol, then. Took a deep breath and turned around. He walked across the room. Over to the computer console in the corner. Entered his special security clearance and smiled.

  He saw Noah on the bottom floor. Rifle in hand. Making his way from cell to cell. No doubt trying to find that friend of his.

  Dr Jenkinson chuckled a little.

  “Ah, Noah,” he said. “Whatever are we going to do with you?”

  And then he adjusted his grip on his pistol.

  Walked away from the console.

  And he walked out of that room and towards the room Kelly was in.

  The cell he knew Noah would find. Eventually.

  When he got there, it was about time he taught him a lesson.

  About time Noah found out the rules had changed.

  About time to show him Kelly wasn’t so essential in the grand scheme of things, after all.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Noah gripped the rifle and raced through the compound as outside, things fell apart.

  He kept the rifle raised at all times in case he ran into anyone. But he hadn’t seen anyone yet, weirdly enough. Loads of prison doors, locked with people behind them, no way of getting in, the only option being to hear them scream. The workers at this place were pre-occupied, too. Racing their way through the compound, burying themselves into rooms. Some of them making a break for it out of that rear door Noah had left through with Paul yesterday. Eager to get away. To escape.

  He didn’t know what was happening out there. Not exactly.

  But he knew for a fact it was big, whatever it was.

  He had his chance.

  A chance to get away.

  A chance to escape.

  But he wasn’t going anywhere without Kelly. Without his friend.

  He ran down the steps in the middle of the compound. Gripped the keycard Matt had dropped in hand. C18. C18.

  He looked to his left at the large metal doors, bolted shut. A7. B92. There didn’t seem to be any order to them. Not any that made sense to Noah, anyway.

  But he had a number, at least. He knew what he was looking for.

  If he could get there, he could blast the damned lock open.

  He could… fuck. He could figure that out when he got there.

  He had to focus on getting there first.

  Findin
g her.

  And then they could focus on getting out of—

  A bang to his right.

  Footsteps.

  Someone rushing towards him.

  Racing his way.

  He looked around. Into that darkened hallway he’d walked through, escaped through. He didn’t want to think of the things he’d seen in there. The people in various states of human experimentation. That kind of shit just imprinted itself on your brain and didn’t leave.

  But someone was coming his way.

  Someone was rushing towards him.

  He couldn’t take any chances.

  He lifted that rifle. Pointed it down the corridor. His arms were shaky. He still felt woozy, the medication not quite wearing off just yet.

  He ticked that trigger.

  Waited for whoever it was in there to emerge.

  He didn’t give a fuck. Not anymore.

  He just wanted to take them out.

  He just wanted to…

  When the woman appeared at the end of the corridor, stepping into the light, Noah froze.

  “Zelda?”

  Zelda stood with her hands on her knees. Probably the most vulnerable Noah had ever seen her. Her face was pale. Sweat tricked down the tips of her short, dark hair. Barney was by her side.

  “What—what the hell are you doing here?” Noah asked.

  Zelda panted, caught her breath. “We… we couldn’t just leave. We came back. For you.”

  A bitterness filled Noah’s mouth. “Eddie. Where’s Eddie?”

  She looked up at him with those wide eyes.

  And in that look, he had the answer he needed.

  Not the answer he wanted, but the only answer he was going to get.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Zelda said, still struggling for breath. “But… but the infected. So many of them. Never seen that many. Tim… he fell. And Eddie. He couldn’t just leave him.”

  Noah nodded. His old pal. He’d never had him down as a hero.

  But as the tears built in his eyes, he found himself smiling. Because Eddie was a hero. He’d proven it so many damned times already. More damned times than Noah had, that was for sure.

  He felt the waves of sadness build up inside. That sense of loss. That void. Because Eddie was his best mate. And he’d saved his life and kept him on his feet more damned times than Noah wanted to admit.

  He was a hero.

  And he’d make damned sure he gave him a proper send-off.

  He’d make damned sure he saved the girl he was clearly falling for, and get the hell out of here, no matter what it took.

  “Come on,” he said, turning around to continue his search.

  “Come on?” Zelda said. “We need to be getting out of this place. Seriously, Noah. You’ve not seen the tidal wave of shit and death heading our way. And you don’t want to—”

  “I’m not leaving Kelly behind. Okay?”

  Zelda sighed. “Why the hell did I even pal up with you people?”

  “I don’t know. But you can go if you want to. You should go. This is my search. This is for me. For Eddie.”

  He looked at Zelda. Nodded, half-smiled.

  And then he turned around and headed over towards the far corner of this lower floor to see if he could find that cell.

  “Don’t give me that crap,” Zelda said.

  Noah looked around. Saw her walking towards him.

  “I come all this way. Risk my damned stupid bitch neck to save you guys. You think I’m just gonna walk away now? Ditch you? That what you take me for?”

  “I’m just thinking about you,” Noah said.

  “Fuck me,” Zelda said. “Fuck my best interests. It looks like we’re in this shit heap together, huh?”

  Noah nodded. Smiled. “Thank you. I—”

  A bang on the doors.

  The metal foundations of this place creaking.

  “Seriously,” Zelda said, staring up at it with wide eyes. “We need to be quick. When those fuckers get in here, we’re gonna drown in their sweat.”

  Noah didn’t know what to expect. But Zelda had painted a horrid enough image by this point to get him panicked.

  “Let’s get a move on then,” Noah said, running off in the direction of the corner of the cell blocks.

  He scanned the cells. C24. B83. No C18. No C18 anywhere.

  He started to wonder if there could be more to this place. Hidden cells. Places he didn’t know about.

  Another bang on those gates.

  More creaking.

  The doors close to caving in.

  “Shit, Noah,” Zelda said. “Let’s… let’s just get this cell found. Okay? I hear you. Really. But… but what if we don’t find it?”

  Noah looked at Zelda.

  Then back at those bending doors.

  The sound of gunshots outside disappearing, slowly, surely.

  “Then it looks like we’ll have to find out how good I am with a rifle, doesn’t it?”

  Zelda raised her eyebrows. “That doesn’t fill me with hope.”

  Noah went to scan the next cell, almost nonchalantly, when he saw it.

  C18.

  “Fuck,” he said. “This is it.”

  He rushed over to the door.

  Scanned the keycard against it.

  The doors continuing to bang.

  The screams echoing hauntingly.

  He held that keycard against the door. Watched as a little loading screen progressed. Dot. Dot. Dot.

  Dot. Dot. Dot.

  “Come on,” he said.

  Dot. Dot. Dot.

  Doors banging.

  The sounds outside creeping within.

  Dot. Dot…

  Ding!

  The cell doors opened.

  Noah rushed inside, rifle raised.

  And then he stopped.

  It was an ordinary cell. Single bunk on the right, with thin sheets and a springy mattress. A toilet in the top corner, which looked like it’d never been cleaned—smelled that way, too. Dirt between the cracks of the tiled floor. A twinkling light, sizzling in and out of life.

  But no Kelly.

  No nobody.

  “Where…”

  He stepped forward, and he heard the movement to his left.

  Heard Barney growling.

  He turned around, and he saw them both.

  Dr Jenkinson stood beside the door in the corner of the cell.

  A gun to Kelly’s head.

  “Hello, Noah,” he said. “How about we close this door and have a proper, mature conversation about what’s going to happen next?”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Noah lifted his rifle and pointed it at Dr Jenkinson, who stood there, pistol to Kelly’s head. Something like a smile across his face.

  Zelda stood by Noah’s side. Barney growled between them. In the flickering, sizzling light, Noah could see the haziness to Kelly’s eyes. He knew she’d been spiked with whatever bullshit meds he’d been pumped with. Her legs were shaky and weak. Her face was red like she was trying her best to strain, to fight, but failing miserably.

  And that pistol to her head.

  Noah had no doubts about Dr Jenkinson using it. Not anymore.

  He looked like a man who was at the end of his tether. All or nothing.

  “Lower that rifle, Noah. Seriously. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I don’t give a fuck whether or not it suits me,” Noah said. “Let my friend go. Right this second. Or I’ll pump a bullet in your skull.”

  Dr Jenkinson sighed. “See, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, for one. The cocktail of meds racing through your dear friend’s system right now makes it awfully tricky to stay on her feet. You sure you really want me to let her go?”

  “She’s worth more to you alive than dead.”

  “Yes. She is. But you are worth more to me than anything. So think very, very carefully about your next moves.”

  “Just cut the bullshit,” Noah said. “The banging on the doors. The screams outs
ide. It’s over. Everything you’ve built here is over, and you know it.”

  “As long as you’re alive, it’s not over,” Dr Jenkinson said. “We can go someplace else. Start again. There are other compounds like this scattered around the country. But you have to be cooperative, Noah. And you have to see the truth, too. The reality. You are vital. And the infected… they know it too. Trojan knows it too. Don’t you see that? Don’t you understand? It’s you they are here for. Nobody else. You.”

  Noah shook his head. Could that be true? That wave of infected, could they really be here for him?

  Was he really that powerful? That important?

  Fuck. He’d always thought of himself as something of a peripheral character. A guy on the side.

  He’d never thought himself important.

  And what was it that even made him important?

  What was it that made him different?

  “We can leave this place,” Dr Jenkinson said. “There’s an armoured vehicle in the back that’ll withstand any amount of infected. We can leave here. And we can start again elsewhere. But you have to understand the consequences if you disagree. If you disagree… this goes on. And if you disagree… I fear they will keep on chasing you. They will keep on hunting you down—you more than anyone. Because it’s like I said. Trojan works unlike anything else I’ve ever encountered. It isn’t any ordinary virus. It’s barely even a virus. But there’s something about you that could help us defeat it. I truly believe that. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to ensure your survival for the good of humanity. No matter what it takes.”

  He tightened his grip on Kelly’s throat.

  Pressed the gun even further into her skull.

  “I’ll let your friends here go,” Dr Jenkinson said. “Or rather… I’ll let them join us. For a while, at least. I’ll take us out of here. All of us. We can leave this place. And then your friends can make a choice. To help. Or to go their own way. I’ll strongly recommend they help. But if they don’t… well, I cannot control that decision.”

  Noah shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”

  More banging on the doors. The screams and shrieks sounded like they were inside now. Scratching at the metal. Pained shouting and crying.

  “I’d say you don’t really have much of a choice,” Dr Jenkinson said. “So what’s it going to be?”