Surviving The Virus (Book 4): Extinction

by Casey, Ryan

  Finn frowned. “But we all have someone. Right?”

  Zelda looked away again. She thought of her childhood. Of her Sarah identity. Of the hate in her life. The hate of other people. The hate of her parents. The hate of her abusive older brother. The hate of everyone except the fantasy world she could disappear into, even if just for a couple of hours here and there.

  “Not everyone has someone, kid. A lesson you gotta learn in life. Sometimes you’ve… you’ve got to be braced for being on your own. Got to prepare yourself for surviving on your own. For going your own way. Because you can’t rely on other people always being there.”

  She got up, then. She didn’t want any more questions from Finn. Didn’t want to open up any more than she already had. She felt herself travelling dangerously close to territory she didn’t want to head towards, and she definitely didn’t want to spill her soul to this kid.

  “Is Zelda really your real name?” he asked.

  She stopped. She wanted to keep walking. She didn’t want to answer that question. It unearthed her past. Brought it too close. Too clear to see.

  And yet… a part of her wanted to open up.

  A part of her wanted to tell Finn everything.

  Tell him all the things she’d never been able to tell anyone before.

  “My real name is Sarah,” she said, facing away from Finn, looking down into the darkness. “When I was a child I… I was bullied by my dad. And then when I went to school, I was bullied there, too. Bullied so much that I didn’t even like talking. In case—in case I opened my mouth and said something stupid.

  “Videogames were my escape. Games like… Zelda. I wanted to be her. I wanted to be somebody who was wanted. By someone. Someone who could just… blend in. Fit in.

  “But as I got older, I realised that wasn’t going to be possible. I was already too damaged. So I decided when I turned sixteen, I was going to leave home.

  “I thought my dad would be happy. He spent his whole life hating me. But he… he…”

  She stopped. Her throat tightened. She didn’t want to keep going. She couldn’t let the words keep flowing

  Keep going, Zelda. Let it all out… Sarah.

  “He locked me in the cellar. He told me I wasn’t going anywhere. And when I—when I broke free, he threw a glass at me. Smashed it in my face. That’s where the scar came from. And I remember what he said, the last time I saw him. I remember what he said as the police dragged him away. He looked at me. Smiled. And he said, ‘you’ll look in the mirror, and you’ll see that scar across your ugly face, and you’ll never forget me.’”

  She paused. So quiet. Waited for Finn to speak, but nothing.

  “I never understood why my dad hated me so much. Not until my mum told me he wasn’t my real dad. That I was the product of an affair she’d had. And that she was so unhappy at the time, she had so many affairs that she didn’t even know who the real dad was.

  “So yeah. There’s… there’s that, too. And since then… since then I’ve just kept my head down. I’ve just gone my own way. Because it’s the safest way to go. And then I…”

  She was going to say “and then I met you,” but she realised it was too forthright, too sappy.

  So she cleared her throat. Wiped her tears. Didn’t look around at Finn. She flushed. A little embarrassed by her honesty.

  “Come on,” she said. “It’s late. You should be heading to bed. Getting some kip. Gonna take you out hunting tomorrow—”

  “You’re a nice person.”

  “What?”

  “You’re a nice person. For helping me. Barney knows you’re nice, too. Thank you. And I’ll still call you Zelda. Because that’s what makes you feel stronger, too.”

  She looked at this kid and felt a lump in her throat. Felt her eyes welling up.

  She wanted to tell him he was a good kid, too.

  Wanted to tell him she appreciated his company. And appreciated the fact he was tough. That he didn’t ask any questions. That he was… alright.

  But she just half-smiled.

  Nodded.

  Tears in her eyes.

  “Bed,” she said. “Don’t want you running into any trouble on your own out here.”

  She headed back into the house and closed the door, Finn and Barney following closely behind.

  And for a moment, just for a moment, Zelda wondered whether she was cut out for the lonely life after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Noah stared across the room at his old best friend holding on to a baby, the mother of that baby—Kelly—lying on the bed, and he didn’t know what the fuck to say at all.

  “Noah?” Eddie said. Tears building in his eyes. “It’s—it’s you. It’s really you.”

  He looked elated, at first. Delighted to see him. The argument collapsing from his memory in a moment of sheer delight. And Noah felt it, too. An initial joy at seeing his best friend. A delight at seeing him here, holding this baby. Becoming a father. The other bloke, the Asian guy, slightly bemused by it all, and clearly knackered from just helping deliver this kid, by the looks of things.

  Kelly lay back. Covered in sweat. She looked like she was still in pain. Like she wasn’t totally with it yet.

  And then Noah saw Eddie’s face drop.

  He saw those walls grow again.

  The memory of how it ended between them resurfacing.

  And Noah feeling it, too.

  “Congratulations,” Noah said, lowering his head, nodding.

  “Thanks. Means a lot.”

  “Good to see you both… doing okay.”

  “Yeah. You too.”

  And then it stopped right there. He didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t know how to further the conversation or where to go next. There was still that void between them. The memory of what happened. Of how he’d driven himself away. Of how he’d hurt them. Upset them.

  And yet there was that bond, too.

  “Wow. Never… never expected this dickhead would ever see my vagina. I guess life’s full of surprises.”

  Noah looked around. Saw Kelly peering at him. Clearly exhausted. But awake enough to insult him. Standard.

  “Kelly,” Noah nodded. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. You men officially can’t complain about a thing after that, seriously. Now if you’d give me a minute, I’ve got a new son to meet.”

  Noah watched Eddie walk across the room. Hand Kelly the baby boy, with his jet-black hair, almost like he was a hot potato that he didn’t know what to do with.

  He stepped back. This was their moment, and he needed to give it to them. He felt wrong being here. Intrusive. Like it was somewhere he shouldn’t be. A moment he shouldn’t have stepped in on.

  The Asian guy walked over. Held out a slightly bloody, mucky hand. Then withdrew it when he realised. “Sunil,” he said.

  Noah nodded.

  “And… and you are?”

  “Oh. Sorry. Noah.”

  Sunil nodded back. “Noah. You guys got history?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, you sure have picked your moment to show up. Do you make a habit of crashing life-changing events like this?”

  Noah glanced away. “Only childbirths, usually. It’s kind of my thing.”

  “Well, we should head out of here and give them some space. I want to talk to you about something.”

  Noah didn’t want to leave the room. He didn’t want to leave Eddie or Kelly or their baby. He wanted to apologise. He wanted to rebuild that bond.

  But then he thought of Jane, too.

  Out there. In dire need of help.

  And all the history between him and this group.

  He looked into Eddie’s eyes one final time.

  Then he stepped out of the room and followed Sunil down to the kitchen.

  “So what do you think?” Sunil asked.

  Noah stared into space. Sunil’s proposition of a new home was tempting. He couldn’t deny any promise of a new community was t
empting.

  But then he thought of Eddie and Kelly. The history they had; that Noah had with them.

  And that he’d never get through that. None of them would.

  “Noah?”

  “No.”

  Sunil narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  “No,” Noah said. “I can’t join you. I have… there’s someone out there. Someone who needs my help. And I can’t turn my back on her.”

  He stood up. Walked out of the kitchen. Walked towards the front door. He wanted to get away. He didn’t want Eddie to see him leave, or Kelly to see him leave. He just wanted to get gone before he had a chance to get caught up in any of their promises. Any hope.

  “But maybe we can help you.”

  “I don’t need your help,” Noah said, opening the door. “It’s just… It’s on me. I’ve got this. But thank you.”

  Sunil sighed. Shook his head. “Well if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t.”

  “If you change your mind, head east towards Burnley. And you’ll find us there.”

  Noah looked into Sunil’s eyes. Kind. Warm.

  And he nodded at him.

  “Thank you. I should…”

  He saw Eddie then, standing at the top of the stairs.

  Wide-eyed.

  “You heading off already?” Eddie asked.

  Noah wanted to say so much to Eddie. He wanted to stay. He wanted to rebuild that bond between them.

  But in the end, he just lowered his head. “Congratulations again. And good luck.”

  And then he stepped out of the front door, and he didn’t look back.

  The only time he did look back, he saw Eddie staring out of that bedroom window, baby in his arms.

  For a moment, he swore he saw a tear on his best friend’s cheek.

  And he thought he saw rage in his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jane felt the warm haze engulfing her body, and she didn’t care about anything.

  Pure relaxation spread through her body. Total bliss. She didn’t care about anything, as she sat there in this dark room. Didn’t care about the bands around her wrists. Didn’t care about the slight smell of piss in the air, some of it her own no doubt. She didn’t care about a thing.

  Only that total bliss.

  Her smile stretching at the corners of her mouth.

  Total happiness.

  Total pleasure.

  The best she’d felt since the beginning of… ah, shit. She didn’t care about that either.

  She heard voices in the background, but she didn’t care. A few people around her. Maybe once in a while, a scream. But again, it didn’t register. It just seemed so distant. Like she felt so good that nothing could shake her. Nothing could move her in any way.

  Because she was beyond happy. She was at peace.

  And it felt like it lasted forever, too. Time drifting on and on. Ten minutes could be four hours. Six hours could be days. Weeks. Months. Years. Eons passed by in the blink of an eye.

  A full body orgasm. Times a hundred.

  Better than anything.

  Better than anyone.

  Every now and then, a flash. A flash of friends. Or of someone in particular. Noah. The last person she’d seen.

  She was terrified when she’d been dragged away. Blindfolded. Gagged. She really thought she was going to be raped. Murdered. God knows what else.

  But she hadn’t been raped. And she hadn’t been murdered.

  She’d been given a gift.

  The gift of bliss.

  The gift of enlightenment.

  She dozed off and thought of her dad. Holding his hard, chapped hands. Running down the beach. Damp sand between her toes. Laughter. Warmth on her skin. Dad lifting her up and onto her shoulder and running as the wind kissed her face. So lucid. So real. More real than life itself.

  She wanted to just stay in this place. Even when it started to fade, she wanted more.

  She didn’t know how many days she’d been in this dark place. She knew she was in a state, something that became clearer when she came around. When the bliss started to fade. When the smell of piss grew louder. When the cries of the desperate people locked in this room, wherever it was, got more prominent, more echoey. When she realised how hungry she was. How greasy she was. How smelly she was.

  When she realised she hurt. Down below.

  And that the fantasy that she hadn’t been assaulted could just be a lie her brain was screaming at her to get her through.

  A trick to help her by.

  And then the fear would hit her.

  The nausea.

  The sickness.

  The shame.

  And then she would be sitting there handcuffed in this dark hell, crying, screaming, wanting to get out of this place, wanting to die.

  But more than anything, wanting that release all over again.

  Wanting what they’d pumped into her bloodstream, time and time again.

  She looked around the darkness. Tugged at the cuffs around her chapped, bloodied wrists. Cried beyond her gag. Tried to call out, to Noah, pathetically. Even though she knew there was no hope of Noah finding her.

  She’d watched him fall down those stairs.

  Watched him hit the floor.

  Noah was already gone. She was completely on her own.

  So she could only sit here and long for release.

  Because escape was off the table.

  Escape was—

  A door opened.

  Light filled the room.

  Outside, she saw a road. A few shipping containers, like the kind you see at docks. Seagulls swooping down. The smell of sea air cutting through the gag. She figured a whole night must’ve passed in that blissful state because it was just going dark when they’d last come in here. She had no idea whether she’d slept, or whether she’d spent the whole night in that blissful state.

  Only that she was exhausted anyway.

  And she wanted something to help.

  Something to—

  No. She wanted to fight back.

  She wanted to resist.

  She wanted out of this hell.

  She saw the tall man step into the room—or the container if that’s what it was. Saw him look around, his silhouette towering, his physique well built. Ginger hair curled around his ears. His head looked enormous. And from the light outside, Jane saw just how many people were in here.

  Twenty. Twenty at least.

  And then something else.

  Another container. Just up ahead. Just like this.

  Filled with more people.

  The man stood there. Hands on his hips.

  “Mornin, ladies,” he said. “How about we sort you out with some breakfast, huh?”

  He walked across the room then, his footsteps echoing against the metal floor. Walked right over to Jane. Stopped by her side. Smiled at her with that gap-toothed grin.

  And then he grabbed her arm and yanked it out.

  She tried to hold it back. Tried not to look.

  But then she glanced down and saw the track marks on her left arm, and she felt the shame. She felt the horror.

  “You want this, yes, miss,” the man said. “I can see it in your eyes. And don’t you dare even tell me otherwise, huh.”

  He pulled out the needle.

  Pressed it against her skin.

  And she found her heart picking up.

  Her pulse racing.

  Because he was right.

  She hated herself for it, but he was right.

  She wanted this.

  She wanted it more than anything.

  She closed her eyes and waited for the sharp pain to cut into her skin and the bliss to follow, and then she felt that needle move away.

  She opened her eyes.

  The man looked down at her. Smiling.

  “Greedy,” he said. “About time you learned to share. Oh yes. Get better at sharin’, yes, miss.”

  And then he walked away from her.

&n
bsp; Heart still racing.

  Mind still crying out for that dopamine high.

  For that synthetic high.

  That heroin high.

  She told herself she wanted to stay off the drugs, as the man walked over to another of the women and jabbed that needle into her arm.

  She told herself it was good for her to be off it. To fight it. Because that wasn’t a life she wanted. That wasn’t reality.

  Reality was sitting in her piss and shit and starving to death in a container with nothing she could do about it.

  The man walked out of the tanker after injecting a few more women.

  Stood by the door and smiled.

  “Have a lovely day, ladies. I’ll be seeing you again soon, huh?”

  He glanced at Jane. Winked.

  And then he slammed the door shut.

  A tear rolled down Jane’s cheek.

  Because she wanted nothing more than a heroin high right now.

  Nothing more in the world.

  And she would kill for it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Noah walked until it was dark, and still, there was no sign of Jane.

  He sat by the side of the road. Sipped a bit of water from the flask he’d filled near the house Eddie, Kelly, and that Sunil guy were at. Another beautiful sunset crept down between the detached houses in this suburban estate. Reminded him of childhood. Nights on the street with his best mate at the time, Wayne. Playing tennis in the middle of the road. Occasionally cracking the ball against the neighbour’s window, a fun activity until the window smashed and shattered, once. Being grounded for two weeks in the middle of summer… yeah, that wasn’t so fun.

  But now, as he sat by the side of the road, he longed for those days. He longed for being grounded in his room, no worries other than counting down the days until he could be let out again. He longed for the times when they were his biggest problems.

  Especially because Mum and Dad never kept him grounded for the full two weeks, anyway. Always let him loose after a couple of days because he was “so well behaved.”

  He knew it. They understood it between them. And he questioned how he’d ever questioned their love for him.