Pestilence: A Post Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Surviving the Virus Book 8) Read online

  Noah narrowed his eyes. Tried to sink into that place, that void.

  But he knew it was pointless.

  He was too weak.

  He felt broken, somehow. Like he couldn’t tap into that place at all anymore.

  How ironic that something he’d resisted so strongly he now wanted more desperately than ever.

  The woman frowned. “Stop staring at me, creep. Get a fucking move on. We don’t have all day.”

  Noah sighed. “Would now be a bad time to tell you I’m in the middle of something really fucking important right now, and the last thing I could do with is to get caught up on some little pointless side quest? And that… that I’m pretty sure I’ve got some abilities you really don’t want to mess with?”

  “You can say what you want, sunshine. As long as I get paid, I don’t really care what your business is. Now come on. Move it. Less talking, more walking.”

  Noah looked around. Realised there wasn’t really much else he could do right now but comply. He’d have to figure something out along the way. He always did.

  Even though he was pretty sure his abilities on that front were waning rapidly, too.

  He walked. Felt that pistol against his back at first. Then it drifted from him. He looked over his shoulder. Saw her keeping her distance. Shit, this woman really wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t letting him out of her sight.

  “You try anything, I’ll shoot. Believe me. I wanna get paid, sure. But I get a cut for taking you back dead, too. Either works for me. But yeah. Let’s try and get there in one piece if we can.”

  Noah walked along this road. He didn’t recognise the stretch they were on. Didn’t know how far from Kirsty and Iqrah he was. Didn’t know where Bruno was, or if he was even still alive.

  He just hoped they were out there. He just hoped they were okay.

  And as much as the loneliness hurt him, he knew in a twisted kind of way that he and Iqrah were probably better off apart. Because that made it twice as hard for the Society to catch them.

  “What you doing out here with all them dead bodies anyway?” the woman asked.

  “Thought you weren’t interested in me.”

  “Don’t get cheeky now. I’m just not keen on walking all the way back to Renault’s place with no conversation, like.”

  “Renault? Really?”

  “I dunno. He’s French or something. Anyway. Answer my fucking question.”

  Noah sighed. “If you must know, I was kind of in the middle of trying to find my friends and my dog. Now I’m not sure whether they’re even alive or not.”

  “You kill that Society scum?”

  “Not exactly. They… they kind of want me for something. Something important.”

  “The virus abilities. Your superpowers, huh?”

  Noah frowned. “Anyway. You’re not interested in that. Not as long as you get paid from Clio, hmm?”

  The woman frowned. “Clio?”

  “It’s French. Fuck it. Whatever. Can we just get walking?”

  She looked bemused as Noah turned around. And the more he walked, the more he wondered if this woman might not be so hard to outwit after all. She seemed ruthless, sure. But she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

  And maybe he could use that in his favour.

  They walked further down these empty, abandoned streets. Noah swore he saw movement in the windows. Swore he heard footsteps. Once again, that sense that something wasn’t quite right. That sense that things were just… too quiet.

  “Hell, Renault’s gonna be mighty impressed by you,” she said. “Good body on you. Good ass on you. Straight into the pits for you, buddy.”

  Noah sighed. “Renault’s slave. Sounds a very alluring prospect.”

  “Yeah, you’d better believe it. But hey. You might be one of the lucky ones. He ain’t too keen on the weedy ones. I’d say you’re, like, on the brink. A coin flip. Might be a worker, might be entertainment. Let’s just see, huh?”

  Noah shook his head. Captured by a fucking psychopath who made Curtis sound sweet. Just his fucking luck?

  “Do me a favour, would you?” Noah asked.

  “Why would I do you a favour?”

  “Just promise me something. If you see a tall Asian girl, the most beautiful green eyes. If you see her with a slim ginger woman… and—and maybe with a dog. Hopefully, with a dog. Just… cut them some slack, okay? Please? That can be your favour, to me.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes.

  She opened her mouth like she was going to say something cocky back.

  Then she stopped.

  Shuffling up ahead.

  And either side.

  Noah looked around.

  Infected clambered out of the broken windows.

  Ran around the cars.

  Raced towards him and the woman.

  “Well shit,” the woman said, lifting her pistol. “Looks like we’ve got a bit of company, funny man. Time to see how well those superpowers of yours really work!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Iqrah looked over her shoulder and kept on hoping she’d see Noah following.

  But every time she looked back… nothing.

  It was cool. It looked sunny, but she felt shivery. She felt a little sickly too like she’d eaten something bad. But she knew it was probably just the nerves. Just the adrenaline of everything she’d been through—everything they’d all been through.

  They’d been walking for a couple of hours now, since the Society guards chased them down, forced them to run. At first, Iqrah wanted to stay. She wanted to fight for Noah. Because he’d fought for her so many times.

  She’d tried to tap into that place. Tried to sink into that void inside, that void she knew she had the power to fall into.

  But she couldn’t. She was too weak. And she knew Noah was too weak, too.

  So now their only focus was the road ahead.

  Reaching Morecambe.

  Finding her parents.

  “You okay carrying him, love? He’s a big heavy lump. I can see to him if you want.”

  Iqrah looked around at Kirsty, and then down at Bruno. She had him in her arms. They’d gone back for him when they were sure the Society had vacated the area. Found him lying in the road, bleeding out. But alive. Still alive.

  So they’d found some old bandages in a dusty old store in a nearby town and wrapped it up. Still bleeding a little. And Bruno probably wouldn’t walk for a while. He’d probably have to be carried for a good few days or weeks. Maybe he’d never walk again. Iqrah didn’t know.

  But she’d keep on carrying him. No matter how heavy he was. No matter how much he slowed them both down.

  “Iqrah,” Kirsty said.

  “What?”

  Kirsty narrowed her eyes. “Don’t snap at me. I’m only looking out for you. Being realistic here.”

  Iqrah opened her mouth and sighed. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just… with Noah gone. I don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to let him go. Bruno was everything to him. He’s a good dog. And I don’t want to abandon him. Not like we abandoned Noah.”

  Kirsty sighed. She walked over to Iqrah. Put a hand on her back. “Iqrah, love. What happened with Noah was awful. I know that. We both do. But… Noah chose to do what he did for your sake. He chose to stand his ground. To—to sacrifice himself, if that’s what it too—”

  “But we didn’t find him. Which means they’ve caught him.”

  “There’s not a lot we can do about that.”

  Iqrah shook her head. “When I got captured, he came for me. He risked everything for me. Nearly died for me. And we’re just supposed to walk away? Like nothing happened?”

  Kirsty sighed. “I get it. Really. Sometimes walking away is the hardest thing to do. But Noah… Noah made his choice. And I’m confident he didn’t make that choice hoping you’d go chasing after him and putting yourself in danger. He made that choice because he wanted to do the right thing by you. To protect you. You told me yourself. They need bo
th of you to make this work. They have him, sure. But without you… they don’t have what they want. Not everything. And if that’s the choice Noah’s made—if that’s the road he’s gone down—then we have to just accept it, Iqrah. And do everything we can to make sure you’re safe.”

  Iqrah opened her mouth. There was so much she wanted to say. She didn’t want to admit defeat. She didn’t want to give up.

  But deep down, as much as it hurt, she knew Kirsty was right.

  Noah had made a choice. He’d stood his ground. She didn’t know what had happened to him next, but he hadn’t done that hoping her and Kirsty would go back for him. He’d done it hoping it gave her a chance to get further away.

  And now here they were. Still alive. Bruno in her arms. A bandage around his leg. But still not out of the woods at all.

  Getting closer and closer to Morecambe, where her parents were.

  She looked back over her shoulder. One last time, hoping to see him standing there in the middle of the road, following them. Imagined the delight she’d feel. The relief she’d feel. The joy.

  But when she looked back, there was nobody there.

  No life. Nothing but abandoned cars. Dusty streets. Smashed windows and a distant haze.

  She sighed and turned back around.

  They reached the end of this town. Kirsty stopped. Looked left and right. She froze for a few seconds like she was really thinking about the next step. And it made Iqrah feel weird. Like she didn’t totally know where she was going. What she was doing.

  “Kirsty?” Iqrah asked.

  Kirsty looked around. “What?”

  “It’s a left. That’s what the map said.”

  Kirsty nodded really quickly. Then she half-smiled. “Yeah. Left. Sure. Come on.”

  She turned around far too quickly for Iqrah’s liking. Walked off ahead, down the street. Which was weird because she’d always been so keen on staying close to Iqrah up to now.

  It was like something was wrong.

  Something was bothering her.

  “Is everything okay?” Iqrah asked.

  Kirsty nodded. “It’s all good. It’s just… all this. Everything. It—it’s just really getting to me, you know?”

  Iqrah nodded back. “Yeah. I know. But we’re… It’s like you said. We’re here. We’re together. And we’re going to find my mum and dad. We’re going to find them, and everything’s going to be okay. Right?”

  Kirsty looked around at Iqrah, right into her eyes.

  And once again, Iqrah saw that look. That glance.

  A look like something wasn’t quite right.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” Iqrah said. “Right?”

  Kirsty opened her mouth and went to speak.

  And then she closed it.

  Nodded.

  Smiled.

  “Of course it is, lovely,” she said. “Of course it is.”

  She reached over and wrapped her arms around Iqrah. Squeezed her, tight.

  “Now come on,” she said. “Let’s get moving. We’re getting closer.”

  When she turned around, Iqrah caught a glance of her face.

  For a moment, she swore she saw tears in Kirsty’s eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kirsty held on to Iqrah as tight as she could and tried to fight back the tears.

  But knowing the truth and trying to maintain this caring, loving front wasn’t so easy.

  Not when she knew what she was going to have to do.

  She felt Iqrah’s warmth against her and squeezed her eyes shut. Iqrah might be in her late teens, but she was petite. And there was a childishness about her. An innocence about her. A naivety about her.

  And that childishness reminded her of somebody.

  Her boy. Her little Bertie.

  And how much she missed him.

  How much she’d do—how far she’d go—to get him back.

  She tasted bitterness in her mouth and swallowed a phlegmy lump in her throat. She knew she needed to keep her composure. Knew she couldn’t lose her cool. Especially not around Iqrah. Because she was supposed to be strong for Iqrah. She was supposed to keep her shit together for Iqrah.

  But how could she keep her shit together when she knew the truth?

  How could she keep her shit together when she knew what she had to do?

  She moved away from Iqrah. Looked away immediately and at the road ahead. She swore she saw Iqrah catch a glance of her, of the tears rolling down her cheeks. Of the pain in her eyes. And she wished she could confide in Iqrah. She wished she could tell her everything. She wished she understood.

  But the truth was, she’d done the worst possible thing to Iqrah. Committed the worst possible crime. The worst breach of trust.

  She’d lied.

  She’d lied about everything.

  And that tore her up inside.

  She walked further down the road. Smelled the blood of the dog clinging to her shirt. And that just made her even more guilty. Because Noah. She’d had a moment with him last night. No point denying it. She’d felt a closeness. She’d felt an attraction. She liked him, and she was pretty sure he liked her, too.

  But he wouldn’t like her if he knew what her game was.

  If he knew exactly what she was there at the Blackpool promenade for.

  If he knew her purpose.

  Because it wasn’t just the Society out there with Noah and Iqrah on their minds.

  There were others, too.

  Others who knew about them. About what they were capable of. About the power they held.

  The Reds.

  And they would do everything to get their hands on what they believed was the key to ending this infection, once and for all.

  Or controlling it.

  Because Iqrah and Noah were power to them. And with a bargaining chip like those two—with the research they’d done on them, with the antidotes they could create—they could rule the new world and bring the Society to their knees.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Kirsty heard Iqrah’s voice, and she stopped. Her heart thumped. Tears streamed down her face. She knew she couldn’t look around at Iqrah. She knew she couldn’t tell her the truth.

  Because what did she tell her?

  Her parents weren’t alive at all?

  That they were dead? Brutally slaughtered by a rogue off-shoot group of the Society? A branch packed with scientists, determined to capture Noah and Iqrah for themselves?

  A group who only left her and Bertie alive.

  They told Kirsty to wait in Blackpool. To wait there until Noah and Iqrah arrived, then lure them to some supposed safe haven with promises of a brighter future.

  Was that what she was supposed to tell Iqrah? Really?

  Or could she do the right thing?

  “Kirsty?”

  She looked around.

  Iqrah peered up at her. Fear in her wide eyes.

  “Why are you crying?”

  Kirsty opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to tell Iqrah the truth. She wanted to so desperately tell her about what she’d done. She wanted to change things.

  And a naive part of her hoped that now Noah was in Society custody… maybe things would be different. Maybe they’d forgive her if she only took Iqrah back. Because that was something, right? Iqrah alone was a capture in herself.

  She felt bad about what’d happened to Noah. Truly guilty. Because she’d felt a bond with him. She’d felt the fireworks of a budding attachment.

  And she’d betrayed him. She’d done the dirty on him in the worst possible way.

  But then she thought of Bertie.

  The way they’d held that gun to his head.

  The way the bulky, muscular guard stood there, smile on his face.

  “One wrong move and the boy dies, understand? One wrong move and he dies.”

  “Kirsty?”

  Kirsty closed her eyes.

  She took a deep breath.

  Stood on the cliff edge. The turning
point.

  The moment where she had a choice.

  The right thing.

  Or the thing that tore her apart completely.

  “Iqrah,” she said. “I’m sorry. But I’ve not been totally…”

  Then she felt something.

  A sharpness slammed against the back of her head.

  A sudden pain.

  A dullness.

  She opened her eyes and saw Iqrah shouting at her. Trying to say something. Screaming out.

  But she couldn’t speak.

  She couldn’t hear her.

  She wanted to open her mouth.

  Wanted to warn Iqrah.

  Wanted to tell her to go her own way.

  Wanted to tell her to run—

  Another sudden pain.

  The back of her neck.

  Kirsty tried to stay on her feet.

  But then she just fell to her knees.

  Broken.

  Weak.

  She looked up at Iqrah as she kneeled there, the feeling in her body drifting away, the taste of blood filling her mouth, and she wanted to warn her.

  “Don’t… don’t…”

  And then Kirsty felt another pain against the back of her head, and everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Noah stared at the crowd of infected racing towards him and wondered how today could possibly get any fucking shittier.

  There were five of them up ahead. Scrambling across the empty street, kicking up dust. Their skin looked grey. Long-dead, that was for sure.

  As they got closer, he tried to sink into that void. Part of him knowing damned well he was already too weak to prove it. But another part of him not really wanting to show all his cards to this lunatic of a woman who’d captured him.

  “Go on then,” she shouted, standing behind him, pistol pointed at him. “You think you’re such a special snowflake, huh? Well, go on. Prove it to me. Prove how good a fighter you really are!”

  Noah gritted his teeth. Watched the infected approach. “It doesn’t exactly work like that.”

  “Then how the fuck does it work, huh? Go on, Superman. Show me those powers if you’re so special!”