Surviving The Virus (Book 4): Extinction

by Casey, Ryan

  She walked across the cool, wooden floor of Anwar’s flat. Outside, in the dark, she heard rain hammering down. It was a nice place. Anwar really took pride in his home decoration, to a degree that Kelly actually found quite exhausting. Everything was placed just perfectly. The brown rug in the centre of the room. The glass coffee table, not an inch out of place. No mess on the floor. It kind of stressed Kelly out. She wasn’t messy, not at all. People used to lambast her for being so neat and tidy back in the day.

  But this was just a whole new level of tidiness.

  She sat on the sofa beside Anwar. Looked at him as he sat there, staring into space.

  “So is it mine?” he asked.

  Kelly shook her head. “No.”

  “Whose, then?”

  “Not really any of your business.”

  “I’m your boyfriend. I think it kind of is my business who my girlfriend’s having a baby with.”

  “Erm. The last time I checked, we hadn’t made any commitments like that.”

  She saw the tears in Anwar’s eyes, and she felt regret right away. Shit. He always seemed so chilled. So casual. But this had really got to him.

  And the worst thing?

  It didn’t make her feel sorry for him. It kind of turned her off. ’Cause part of the illusion she enjoyed so much with Anwar was the idea that no feelings were involved at all. It was just sex. It was just him fucking her, making her cum pretty much on demand. He was good at that. It was one of his strengths. Maybe when the world got back to normal, he could put it on his LinkedIn.

  It was his body and her body and losing herself in the chemical release of sex, and then going about her life feeling better about herself.

  But he’d got attached.

  He’d got fucking attached, and that was a fuck-storm she didn’t need right now.

  “Maybe you should leave,” Anwar said.

  Kelly tilted her head. “If that’s what you want.”

  “No. Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just… Fuck. I’m sorry, Kelly. I know it’s none of my business. It’s just I… I guess I really like you. I should’ve been straighter with you about that. From the off. But don’t go. Please. Even if you just, like, stay here as a friend, or whatever. If that’s what you want.”

  Kelly sat back down and sighed. “For what it’s worth, it happened before I met you. Two months ago.”

  Anwar stared into her eyes. He looked a little more measured again. A little more chilled. “I can help you.”

  “What?”

  “Raise the kid. I can help you. If that’s what you want. If the father’s absent. I can... Oh.”

  Kelly didn’t have to say anything else for Anwar to realise the father wasn’t absent.

  “Let me guess,” he said. “That guy Noah?”

  “Noah?” Kelly said. “Eurgh. No fucking way.”

  “Then who?”

  “Eddie.”

  Anwar’s eyes widened. “Ed-Eddie?”

  “Yes. Ed-Eddie.”

  “As in, Eddie Eddie?”

  “Yeah. Eddie Eddie. Ed, Ed, and Eddy. The only Eddie the pair of us know.”

  “But he’s kind of…”

  “Kind of what? Kind? Funny? Caring?”

  “Sorry. I know he’s a good guy. There’s no flies on him. Maybe a little bit… well, creepy at times. But I’m sure it comes from a good place. He just didn’t strike me as your type, is all.”

  Kelly shook her head. “Yeah. He’s not exactly my type. But we’re living in an apocalypse. I had my needs, and he had his.”

  “Is that why he’s in love with you?”

  “In love with me? Don’t be stupid.”

  “I’m serious,” Anwar said. “Trust me. He’s clearly obsessed with you. So I’ll ask you something. And I want you to answer honestly. Are you sure Eddie knew what the arrangement between you was? That it was just ‘need satisfying’? Or did you lead him down a path he didn’t realise he was heading down, too? ’Cause, y’know. That would explain a lot. Like why he practically drools at you whenever he sees you.”

  Kelly opened her mouth to argue. To fight back.

  But truth be told… she started to feel guilty.

  Fuck. There was truth in what Anwar was saying.

  Eddie had a crush on her. She knew that. She’d given him probably the best damned night of his life, amidst all the horror and all the misery.

  And then she’d just dropped him when someone better came along. Someone who could satisfy her needs better.

  That was cold.

  But she’d been doing it her whole life.

  Emotional attachment wasn’t exactly easy for her.

  “Look,” Anwar said. “I won’t judge you. I’ve done some pretty dubious things myself. I just think, well. That guy’s going to be your kid’s dad. And as much as it pains me and hurts me to say this… if there’s anything there, anything at all, maybe it’s in both your best interests to… work something out.”

  “Work something out?”

  Anwar looked away. Eyes bloodshot. “You. Eddie. Maybe you should figure something out. For the kid’s sake.”

  Kelly felt the suggestion like a train crashing into her.

  The thought of commitment.

  The thought of her and Eddie being together. Being an “item”.

  It didn’t sound right.

  It went against everything she thought she believed in.

  But he was nice.

  And he was caring.

  And she’d seen so many times just how devoted he was to the ones he cared about.

  So maybe it wasn’t such a terrible idea.

  She got up. Sat on the sofa beside Anwar. Leaned over and kissed him on his luscious, wet lips.

  “We’ll figure something out,” she said. “All of us will…”

  And then she heard it.

  The shouting in the street outside.

  A terrified shout.

  A cry.

  “What the hell’s that?” Anwar asked.

  Kelly walked over to the window. Opened the curtains.

  And as the rain hammered down, she saw something that made her shiver.

  Noah.

  Racing through the street.

  Pistol in hand.

  Drenched.

  Bloodied.

  Bruised.

  Shouting.

  “What’s he saying?” Anwar asked.

  Kelly opened the window so she could hear through the wind. Through the rain.

  And when she heard it, her body turned to stone.

  “They’re coming!” Noah shouted. “Get your weapons! Keep the vulnerable in their homes! They’re—they’re coming!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Noah stood in the middle of the street in the pouring rain and felt fear totally engulf his body.

  It was pitch black now. He held his hands to his knees. His pistol shook in his hand. He could taste blood in his mouth. Couldn’t stop panting. A stitch crippling his stomach.

  Vaguely aware of people around him.

  Malcom.

  Zelda.

  And several others, too.

  All looking at him with wide eyes. With concern. Some of them holding screaming children. Dogs barking. Howling.

  “Noah?” Malcom said. “What happened?”

  Noah looked up at Malcom. Saw the fear in his eyes. The suspicion. Like he suspected Noah might be infected. That this was some kind of infection-provoked reaction. That Noah was infected just like that guard he’d told him about. The one who came back. The one who turned.

  And something else. What Dr Jenkinson told him about being some kind of Trojan beacon.

  He was dangerous.

  But Noah wasn’t infected with anything but fear at this moment.

  “Noah?” Malcom said. A little louder now. Jane emerged by his side. Doe-eyed. Scared.

  And then Noah saw others, too. Kelly. Anwar. Eddie. Barney. More of the dogs outside, barking. Howling. Cats racing through the streets. Children crying.
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  “What’s happening?”

  Noah looked up at the western wall around their home. Around their community. Thick clouds overhead. Rain lashing down so loud he could barely hear anything else.

  But he knew what was coming.

  He remembered what he’d seen.

  Reaching the butterfly house.

  Finding it quiet. Abandoned.

  Turning around and starting to head back home.

  And then seeing them.

  The eyes of the infected.

  So many of them.

  Standing.

  Waiting.

  Watching.

  He ran. Ran as fast as he could. Shot at them as he pegged it back home. Fell over. Had to shoot a few in the head.

  All of them clawing at his face.

  Trying to tear him apart.

  Leaving him with no doubt that they were after him.

  That they wanted him.

  That Dr Jenkinson was right.

  “They’re coming,” Noah said.

  Malcom frowned. “Who’s coming?”

  “Them. The—the infected. So many of them. We… we need to arm up. Or… or leave this place.”

  Malcom shook his head. “Noah, you aren’t making sense—”

  “They ambushed me. I had to run from them. So many of them. But they didn’t stop. They’re still coming. Malcom, we… we can’t do this. There’s too many. I don’t know we can hold this place. But we have to try.”

  Malcom stood there in the rain. Lightning flashed from above. Concern crossed his face.

  Noah waited for him to make a move. Waited for him to act. He didn’t like showing fear. He didn’t like showing weakness.

  But he had to be honest.

  “I need to see it,” Malcom said, turning around and making for the wall.

  “No!” Noah shouted.

  Malcom stopped. “I need to see what you’re talking ab—”

  “There’s no time. Malcom, I… I’d say I don’t mean to alarm people, but I do. We need to arm up. We need to get people either inside or the hell away from this place. Because the amount of them. The number of them. We’re not going to be able to hold them off. We can’t do this.”

  Noah heard the concern erupting around him. People scurrying away to their homes. Fear. Uncertainty. Confusion.

  And he could see Malcom’s face. The look on his face like he didn’t like the way authority was slipping between his fingers.

  “I’m checking,” he said. “I have to.”

  He turned around. Walked towards that wall. Quickly broke into a jog, which became a run.

  “Noah?” Eddie said.

  Noah looked at him.

  Put a hand on his shoulder.

  “You need to get yourself to safety.”

  “But—”

  “Get yourselves to safety. All of you. Right now.”

  “What about you?”

  Noah stopped. Looked back.

  “I need to get Malcom.”

  He ran, then. Ran after Malcom. Ran into the rain, towards the newly constructed, partly built wall, even though he knew he was heading right into the storm. Even though he knew there was no time to waste. Even though—

  Footsteps by his side.

  He spun around. Almost jumped out of his skin.

  “Jane?”

  She ran beside him. Dark hair pegged to her face with the rain. “I’m coming with you.”

  “You can’t. You need to—”

  “He’s my dad,” Jane said. “And I’m not leaving him behind.”

  Noah sighed. Saw more people running into their homes. Saw a few people carrying rifles, running towards the gates themselves.

  Confusion. That was the predominant mood. The predominant feeling.

  But Noah wasn’t confused. He was the only one who knew what the hell was happening at all here.

  He turned the corner and saw Malcom standing right by the wall.

  He was staring ahead. Out of the peephole, one of the ones that hadn’t been boarded up. Totally still.

  “Malcom!” Noah called.

  “Dad!” Jane shouted by Noah’s side.

  They ran towards him. But he stared on. Transfixed by something. Unmoving.

  “Malcom?”

  He turned around. Slowly.

  And then he looked at Noah with this pale face.

  These wide eyes.

  And then at his daughter.

  “I love you, sweetie,” he said. “I—”

  Two hands reached through the peephole.

  Dragged him back by the throat.

  Tightened their grip. So deep their fingers dug into his throat until it burst, bled, until flesh and blood spurted everywhere as Malcom twitched and shook and coughed up blood and tried to kick out and fight and—

  “Dad!” Jane screamed.

  Noah pulled Jane back. Held on to her, stopped her throwing herself deeper into danger.

  “Jane,” he said.

  But she kept on fighting. Screaming. Her dad before her, bleeding out. More hands sticking through that gap. The gap widening. The wall creaking.

  And then the sound of gunfire to the south. To the north. To the west.

  The sound that told Noah all he needed to know.

  They were here.

  They were surrounding them.

  They were out of time.

  “I’m sorry, Jane,” he said, trying to pull her away, a little more forcefully than he would’ve liked. “We have to go. I’m… I’m sorry.”

  He pulled her away and looked back at Malcom once more. He was barely recognisable anymore. His face had been torn at, distorted. His eyes burst, just dark sockets now. His teeth twisted, bent. His body contorted like a dummy. Like something less than human. A rag doll.

  He held on to Jane, and he knew that was an image she was never going to get out of her mind.

  Because Malcom wasn’t his dad, and he was never going to forget this.

  But he figured he wouldn’t have much longer to remember it.

  He turned around and went to run up the road when he saw them.

  Infected in the street.

  Running towards Eddie.

  Towards Kelly.

  Towards Zelda.

  Towards Anwar.

  Towards Barney.

  He saw them closing in on him.

  He went to rush forward. Instincts to help his friends. To stand beside them, at least.

  Live together.

  Die together.

  But then he heard something.

  An immense crash, right behind him, followed by a rush.

  He looked around.

  Saw a cloud of dust.

  And where the newly erected western wall stood just moments ago, a new wall.

  A wall of infected.

  He stood there. Held Jane in his arms.

  And for the first time in a long, long time, Noah felt fear.

  Total fear.

  The infected raced towards him.

  From the left.

  The right.

  From behind.

  From everywhere.

  He held on to a screaming Jane, and he closed his eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m here. I’m here.”

  Even though he was terrified himself.

  Even though he wanted to scream himself.

  He thought of Mum. Of Dad. Of his brother, Kyle.

  But more than anyone else, he thought of Jasmine.

  “I’m here.”

  He heard the infected mass scream as they closed in.

  The footsteps deafened everything else.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and waited, and…

  Chapter Twelve

  Pritesh ran as fast as he could from the infected, but he knew his time was already up.

  He raced down the streets of Delhi. The usual smells of spices didn’t fill the air. Just the suffocating stench of death. Burning bodies at the sides of the roads. Rats racing between the streets. Reminders of a
ll the death. All the chaos. All the loss.

  He remembered when he’d seen his first dead body. His mother. She hadn’t called for days. He’d gone round to her house and found her lying in her bath, bloated and grey. Eyes rolled back into her skull. Pallid skin smeared with blood. The infection, no doubt about it.

  But one of the lucky ones.

  Dying peacefully and quietly in the bath.

  Not like those chasing him.

  Not like those pursuing him.

  He looked over his shoulder. Saw them. Four of them. Swore he recognised one of them. A butcher who used to serve him. Who used to wave when he jogged past to go to work at the call centre every day. A friendly man with a big moustache. A nice man. No enemies. No anger.

  He looked raging.

  Pritesh turned back around and tumbled to his hands.

  Sharp glass grazed his skin, cut through his palms. He turned onto his back. Wanted to get to his feet. Wanted to fight.

  But he knew already it was too late.

  He saw them. The friendly man. The smiley man.

  Not smiling anymore.

  Angry.

  Enraged.

  “I’ll tear you apart,” he said. “I’ll tear you…”

  He threw himself at Pritesh…

  Pritesh braced himself to fight.

  But then he realised something.

  The thump against the ground.

  The man landed beside him.

  Still.

  Pritesh looked around at that man as he lay there, seemingly dead.

  Then the others.

  Also dead.

  Dropped like flies.

  He got up. Scurried to his feet. Ran off, slowly, down the road.

  Everything seemed like it had gone very quiet all of a sudden.

  Mavis Potts held the pistol into her mouth and prepared to pull that trigger and end this misery once and for all.

  The infected were at the door. Banging away at the glass. She knew that glass was always going to be a bad idea. Used to berate her husband Charlie for it all the time. Too easy to break into. Too easy to burgle.