Surviving The Virus (Book 4): Extinction

by Casey, Ryan

  He reached the front door. Opened it. Looked outside. Lighter, now. The birds singing. Dawn on its way.

  He looked down the pathway, through the long grass of the garden either side. Out onto the road. Exactly where he’d watched Jane get dragged, however long ago it was.

  And he felt a sadness, as he stood there. A bitterness. A taste in his mouth. Something like vomit.

  ’Cause Jane was nice. She was innocent. She was a good person.

  But now she was gone.

  And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  He turned around. Went back into the house. Climbed up to the bathroom, which took way longer than it should’ve. He searched for first aid kit, then stitched his head up. Necked a few too many paracetamols and examined his wounds in the mirror. His face was bruised. He had two black eyes. Missing a couple of teeth. His upper body wasn’t much better, either. Felt like he couldn’t lift his arm all the way without it agonising him.

  But he was on his feet. He could fight through this pain. He had to.

  He went back downstairs and sat on the sofa. He put his plans aside for the day. And then that day became another day, and then another day. And it was on the morning of the fourth day that he could walk better again. That the pain started to ease. He’d lost weight. Hadn’t drunk nearly enough.

  But he felt back to strength. Not full strength, but back to strength.

  And that’s when the problem of Jane came to mind again.

  He stood at the top of the pathway. He was planning on heading west. Reaching the coast. Seeing what it was like over that way.

  But then he’d found the blood on the road. And the necklace. The one Jane always fiddled with. The one that was cold against his hand when she’d touched it last night.

  Over to the right. Heading east. Back the way he’d come.

  He felt torn, as he stood there, rucksack filled with supplies. He wanted to keep going. Wanted to keep moving. He didn’t want to get bogged down in other people’s troubles. He didn’t want to get attached.

  But then there was that other, contrary pull.

  The one screaming at him not to turn his back on Jane.

  He looked around. Shit. It was days since she’d gone. She could be anywhere now. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to even consider it. Only that there was nothing he could do for her. He had no choice.

  He turned and headed west. Kept his head down. Held that ring in his hand. Kept going a good way, walking a good half hour.

  Before he stopped.

  He remembered what Jane said.

  “You’re a good guy. Caring. I think you’re still under there. I think you’re just… hurting.”

  And he remembered the guilt he’d felt at running from his parents. At fleeing his demons. At not confronting them, head-on.

  “You’re a good guy.”

  He looked back over his shoulder.

  Back towards the east.

  And then he looked at Jane’s necklace in his hand, and he sighed.

  “Fuck it,” he said. “Fuck it.”

  He turned around, and he headed east.

  He was going back.

  He was going to try and find Jane.

  No matter what it took.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kelly kept her hand over her pregnant belly every step of that morning walk with Sunil and Eddie.

  It was sunny, and she felt hot and sickly. She didn’t want to say anything to any of the guys. Didn’t want to burden any of them. Didn’t quite like the way Eddie and Sunil or anybody looked at her for that matter since becoming pregnant. Like she was weak. Like she was some kind of victim.

  It didn’t sit right with her. She’d always seen herself as strong. Independent. Someone who stood on her own damned two feet and didn’t give a fuck what other people thought about her or said to her.

  But pregnancy took all that away. Because she was dependent. She was needy, whether she liked it or not. And she was reliant on other people.

  Sunil walked in the distance. Eddie lingered behind. He hadn’t said a word to Sunil. Clearly didn’t trust him. She couldn’t blame him. She didn’t trust Sunil much, either.

  But the place he was promising. The home he was promising.

  Besides. His motives. They seemed good.

  She doubted him. Of course, she did.

  But she was certain she or Eddie would do something before this guy had a chance to turn things on them if that’s what it came to.

  “What’s got you sulking?” Kelly asked.

  Eddie turned his eyes from burning into Sunil’s back. “Don’t start.”

  “Seriously,” Kelly said. “We’re in a good position. We can turn around and walk away if that’s what you want.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you…”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Come on,” Eddie said. “I see the way you look at him. You just want me out of the way, don’t you? Now someone better has come along.”

  Kelly frowned. “Eddie, I don’t have a thing for tall, handsome Asian men exclusively, you know. And besides. What the hell does my attraction to someone matter anyway?”

  Eddie shook his head. “Let’s just walk and not talk about it.”

  “Eddie,” she said.

  “Let’s just—”

  “I’m not going to abandon you for some stranger, Eddie. I… I care about you too much to do that. You’re… you’re my best friend. And you’re the father of this kid growing inside me. So turn that fucking sulking bottom lip up right this second and start acting like it. Jesus. If you were a character in a novel, you’d be the fucking fan favourite up to now. What the fuck happened, man? What the fuck changed with you?”

  She thought she might be being a little harsh at first. But then she saw Eddie look at her. Looked like he was going to bite back at her. Say something sarcastic or nasty.

  But in the end, he just sighed and smiled. “You do have a thing for tall, handsome Asian men, though. And don’t you deny it for one second.”

  “Friends,” Sunil said.

  Kelly turned around.

  “See,” Eddie muttered, a lighter tone to his voice now. “You look at him like I look at cheese puffs.”

  Kelly ignored him, rolled her eyes. Walked up to Sunil, who stood there in the middle of the road, staring ahead. “What’s up?”

  Sunil looked concerned about something. Held his hands on his hips and looked ahead at the cars.

  “These bodies,” he said. “They… they weren’t there when I came this way.”

  Kelly looked around. She’d barely even seen them. Barely noticed bodies at all anymore. They were so commonplace. So much a part of the scenery.

  But these two bodies, by the cars up ahead.

  “You sure?” Kelly asked.

  They walked to these bodies together. Stopped by them. Kelly didn’t want to believe it, but something wasn’t right. These two blokes. They looked… fresh. Like they’d only recently been killed.

  “Positive,” Sunil said. “They weren’t here. They’re fresh.”

  “Bollocks,” Eddie said.

  “Huh?”

  “Bollocks. You can’t go pretending you know every single body. You probably just missed them.”

  “I can assure you I didn’t just miss them.”

  “Probably busy whitening those teeth of yours. Or sorting your picture-perfect hair out.”

  Sunil grinned. Shook his head. Looked at Kelly like he knew exactly what was going on here. The jealousy so clear to see—and so unattractive.

  “Whatever the case… we keep moving. We find shelter for the night. And then we move forward tomorrow.”

  “No chance am I sleeping near you. Not even sleeping in the same house as you.”

  “Don’t you want to keep an eye on me?” Sunil asked.

  Eddie opened his mouth to respond. Sunil’s words weren’t exactly a threat. But they were laced with just enough malice… and ju
st enough subtlety that there was no way anyone could respond in any rational way.

  “Come on,” Sunil said, snapping out of it at just the right time. “We need to…”

  A sudden blast of sharp pain, right through Kelly’s midriff.

  A dizziness.

  A sickness.

  Eddie looked at her. Sunil frowned at her. “Kelly?”

  Kelly felt hot. Tired. Sweaty. “I… I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You look…”

  Another blast of pain, right across her midriff.

  Another wave of sickness.

  Of dizziness.

  She tried to walk. Stumbled from side to side. “I’m fine. I just…”

  And then she fell to the ground, and everything drifted out of consciousness.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Noah squinted into the brightness and stopped walking.

  He was on yet another suburban street. The same sights as usual. Abandoned cars. Boarded windows. Silence but for the birds, and the occasional wild dog or cat running past. This was normality now. The familiar world. But every now and then, it still had the power to shock and surprise, even when you were in the midst of it. The extent to which the world had changed in such a short time.

  And the sense that things were never, ever going to be the same again.

  That society was just going to die out before it had a chance to rebuild.

  And Noah didn’t know how far this spread, but he could only assume from the lack of planes in the sky and the signs in the early days that this was a global thing.

  But right now, his focus was Jane. His body still ached from his fall a few days ago. Shit. He’d left it too late. It wasn’t like he’d be much use when he was in the state he was in, but he got the sense he’d wasted time already. That the chances of finding Jane were slim to none.

  It’d been three days since he last saw her. That group, whoever the hell they were, could be miles away by now.

  They might not even have Jane with them anymore.

  She might be dead.

  Or worse…

  “No,” Noah muttered.

  He kept on walking. He wished he could drive one of these abandoned cars. Some of them still had fuel in the tanks, of course. But he hadn’t been able to drive before, and besides, there were just far too many blockades in the road that it wasn’t worth the bother. Some people drove, but only for short distances, or way out in the countryside. Cars drew attention, too. Better to go by foot, or by bike. Better to keep a low profile. Saw the occasional person driving, but it never ended well in his experience.

  He scanned every single house for a trace of life; every inch of ground for some sign someone had walked this way. He’d grown somewhat adept at noticing signs of life. You all did in days like these. Footprints in tall grass. Soil and mud where it shouldn’t be. Scraps of clothing. And then there was the smell.

  It was a weird thing to say. We were usually so used to being surrounded by fellow people that we didn’t even notice people had a distinct smell to them.

  There was a smell to humanity. A smell that cut through the death.

  A smell of life.

  And right now, he smelled it. Sweet. Like aftershave. Or deodorant. Just the sense that someone had been here. Recently, too.

  And the scent of fire in the air as well.

  Of burning.

  Something that had burned recently.

  He stood there in the middle of the road. Felt the warm spring breeze against his skin. Looked around at the detached houses. All of them so quiet. Abandoned. Still. Empty.

  And yet it felt like eyes were watching him.

  Scanning his every move.

  Making the hairs on his damned neck stand right on end.

  “It’s alright,” he muttered, his throat dry and croaky, but his hammer tight in his grip. “Probably just a survivor. Someone making their own way out here. Someone like J…”

  He stopped.

  Because he saw it.

  Across the street.

  The garden in front of that detached house with the brown door and the jet-black Audi in the drive.

  A trail right through the grass.

  No. More than one trail.

  Three trails.

  And one looked like there’d been a struggle.

  Noah held his breath and lifted his hammer. He walked over towards the house, slowly. The ache across the back of his skull reminded him to keep his guard. To scan his surroundings. He checked the other houses. Checked the cars. Someone could be waiting there. Someone could be watching.

  He got closer to that house, and he noticed something else.

  The front door was ajar.

  And on the white handle, Noah saw blood.

  His stomach turned. Immediately, he feared the worst.

  Jane.

  They’d dragged her here.

  Raped her.

  Killed her.

  No!

  He couldn’t have those thoughts.

  Because if he had those thoughts, he just felt so damned much guilt.

  Because he could’ve done more.

  He could’ve helped her.

  Instead, he’d abandoned her.

  And it was all on him.

  He shook his head. “No time for self-pity. Just… just go in there. Go in there and find her.”

  He walked down the pathway, past the tall grass. Past that sign of struggle. The sign someone had been dragged here. That three or four people had entered this house. Together.

  He reached the door. Heart racing. Pushed it open gently.

  The hallway was quiet. Stairs right ahead. Photographs of a family lining the radiator cover. A couple of doors up ahead.

  But voices.

  Voices upstairs.

  Sounded like men’s voices.

  He held that hammer close. Crept up the steps, slowly as he could. Didn’t want to make a sound. Didn’t want to make a creak.

  But there was blood on the stairs.

  And that blood just filled him with fear.

  Urgency.

  Dread.

  He reached the top of the stairs. More doors.

  But one door was ajar.

  A bedroom door, presumably.

  And he could hear talking in there.

  Arguing.

  He clenched his jaw. Walked towards that room. He’d go in there, and he’d brain the fuckers whether they’d done anything to Jane or not. He’d bury his hammer into their skulls, and he’d paint the floors with their blood. He didn’t give a fuck. Not anymore.

  He reached the door. Stopped, just outside. Those voices. Two of them, by the sounds of things.

  He took a deep breath.

  Tried to steady himself.

  Tried to brace himself for whatever he—

  A moan, then.

  The moan of a woman.

  And then a weird… a weird whine.

  Noah felt sick. It was Jane. They’d done something to her. Hurt her. Tortured her.

  He had to get in there.

  He had to help her.

  He had to do something.

  He stepped around the door into the room, hammer raised, and prepared to bury it into Jane’s captors’ skulls.

  But Noah didn’t see Jane in that room at all.

  And he didn’t see her captors.

  A man stood there. Tall. Buff. Asian.

  A woman lay on the bed. Covered in sweat. A little blood and fluid covering the bedding.

  A woman he recognised.

  And then at the foot of the bed, holding a whining, tiny baby boy, Noah saw someone he recognised very well.

  “Noah?” Eddie said.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Zelda sat back in the garden, Finn by her side, and stared up into the stars.

  It was her fifth night with Finn. At first, she’d found it difficult, getting used to being responsible for a new being. But as time had passed, and the days went on, Finn had proven himself to be pretty capa
ble, in all truth. More capable than most kids she’d met in life, that was for sure. He knew about hunting. Knew about supplies. Knew about the right foods to eat, and what to do if he was cold or under threat or whatever. And he wasn’t one to complain.

  His parents clearly taught him well.

  But one thing Zelda found most amazing about Finn was just how intelligent he seemed to be for a kid of his age. How in tune with emotions he was. He could tell when she was deep in thought. He could tell when she wanted to talk, and when she didn’t. He could tell a lot about her.

  Sometimes, it creeped her out a bit. But she knew that was just her own insecurities talking. Her own hang-ups.

  He was a good kid. And really, he was no trouble.

  “Are we going to live like this forever?”

  Zelda turned around. Saw Finn lying there, stroking Barney. Barney had really taken to Finn. Another reason Zelda felt strangely protective at first. She’d formed a bond with Barney. And that made her… uncomfortable, in a way.

  “Live like what?” she asked.

  “Like this. Moving on from place to place. Just you and me. Like we’re on an adventure. A Zelda adventure!”

  Zelda turned away. “Until the world gets back on its feet… I don’t see how things can be any different.”

  “Do you think the world will get back on its feet?”

  Zelda stared up at the stars, into the night sky. It’s something she thought about a lot. And weirdly, she wasn’t sure she wanted it to. She’d always been out of place. She’d never really fit in. But this world… she kind of liked it. Liked the loneliness. The solitude. The peace.

  A selfish thing to say, sure.

  And challenged by the fact she was now travelling with a kid and a dog, absolutely.

  But it was the truth.

  She was never really cut out for the old world.

  “Somehow,” she said. “In some way. But very different from what we’re used to, however it is.”

  “Do you miss anyone?”

  Zelda looked around. “What?”

  Finn stared right into her eyes; his face lit up by the moon. “From your… your old life. From the normal world. Do you miss anyone?”

  Zelda heard that question, and she felt sadness deep inside. “I don’t really have anyone to miss.”