Pestilence: A Post Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Surviving the Virus Book 8) by Ryan Casey

Author:Ryan Casey [Casey, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Higher Bank Books
Published: 2020-10-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Noah opened his eyes—again.

Blinding light shone down from above. Cool air blew across his face. It felt like wind. Was it wind? Was he outside? Something in his head told him he was inside, locked away somewhere. That he was a prisoner again. In a van. Or being carried along by a group of Society guards. Something like that.

He heard a crow cawing somewhere nearby. Its little feet tapping against the concrete. He could smell something sour, something rotten, like off-milk. His throat was dry, the only taste on his lips the metallic tang of blood. His head ached and throbbed like mad.

Where was he?

What’d happened?

He looked around. Realised he was on the road still. That was it. He’d been walking through a little town with Kirsty, Iqrah, Bruno. And then…

It came to him in a rush.

Bruno.

The gunfire.

The bullets.

Kirsty and Iqrah shouting for him to follow, crying out for him to join them, that it was too late for Bruno.

And then standing his ground and holding that knife to his neck before that Society guard—Colin, he was called—stabbed him in the back and popped him full of sedative darts.

He leaned forward. His head ached like mad. What’d happened? Had he tapped into that void within? Channeled the virus without realising?

Or was this something else?

He looked around and froze.

There were bodies all around him.

Four bodies.

Bodies of Society guards.

He sat there. Heart racing. Blood trickled from their nostrils. And this weird film covered their skin. This slime.

A slime that reminded him of Blackpool.

A smell that reminded him of Blackpool.

Where something wasn’t right.

He looked at these bodies, and as much as his instincts told him this was related to him… there was another voice in his head telling him something was different.

But fuck it. He needed to get up. He needed to get away. He needed to find Kirsty and Iqrah and Bruno and—

A cough.

He froze.

Looked around.

One of the guards spluttered blood onto the road.

He lay on his back. Blood oozed down his bared face.

It was only then that Noah realised this was Colin.

Noah stood up. He wanted to walk away. He didn’t want to give this bastard any time of day. Not when he’d shot his dog and then pumped him full of darts.

But Colin was looking at Noah with wide, bloodshot eyes.

He was saying something. Trying to speak. Gasping.

Noah stood there a few seconds. Still torn between walking away and staying—maybe even kicking the life out of this fucker.

But the way Colin mouthed something.

The way he looked at Noah. Desperately stretched a shaking, veiny hand out.

Noah walked over to him. Didn’t want to get too close in fear of catching something. There was an irony. Fear of catching something he truly didn’t understand.

“Heli…” he said. “Heli…”

Noah frowned. “What?”

Colin coughed. Spat blood onto the road beside him. Wheezed. The life drifting from his body.

“Hey,” Noah said. “Stay with me. What? What’re you trying to say?”

Colin closed his eyes. Took as deep a breath as his crackly lungs would allow.

Then he opened his eyes and looked right up at Noah.

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