Dead Island

Sam put his hands on the bars of the cage and leaned forward. He felt a wriggle of despair go through him. ‘Shit, I thought these guys were survivors. I thought they were immune.’

‘West says the virus is mutating all the time, constantly changing to find a way in under people’s defences.’

‘You make it sound like it’s alive. Like it thinks,’ said Sam.

‘Maybe it does.’

‘Bullshit!’ Sam’s response was unequivocal, but there was anxiety, even a hint of fear, in his eyes. ‘If this thing’s mutating all the time, what’s to stop it eventually finding a way in under our defences?’ he said.

Logan didn’t answer immediately. Eventually he admitted, ‘Beats me. But you gotta remember there’s one big difference between us and them.’ He nodded at the Kuruni.

‘Which is?’ asked Sam.

‘They been chowing down on zombie brains for the last fuck knows how long. Closest I’ve got to that was the burger I ate in the airport motel the night before we flew out here.’

Sam and Logan retraced their steps back to the laboratory. When they got there, Purna turned to them and said, ‘Dr West and I have been talking, and he says it’s going to be at least twelve hours, but probably more like twenty-four, before he’ll know whether it’s possible to develop a vaccine. Therefore to save time I think we should head back to Mowen’s village, pick up Jin and Xian Mei, and come back here in the morning. Then if Dr West does have a vaccine for us by then, we can head straight over to the prison island to meet White.’

‘OK with me,’ shrugged Logan.

‘Me too,’ said Sam with a sigh. ‘So you spoken to White about this?’

Purna nodded, smiling a little as she said, ‘I am nothing if not efficient. It was a terrible line, but I got the impression that White’s wife was in a really bad way. By the time we get there it might already be too late.’

‘Nothing we can do about that,’ said Logan. ‘We’re all going as fast as we can. Can’t hurry genius, eh, doc?’

West smiled faintly.

‘So when you wanna go?’ asked Sam.

‘Well, Mowen says he’s ready any time, so I suggest we grab a bite to eat and then head off. No time like the present, eh?’ said Purna.

‘Nope,’ sighed Sam heavily. ‘No time like the present.’

Chapter 18. NIGHT THOUGHTS

‘HEY, YOU OK?’

Even though Sam’s voice was soft, Jin still jumped, her head twisting round sharply. In the moonlight he could see the silvery gleam of tears on her cheeks, but he had already been aware of how upset she was; it was her crying that had woken him.

He was surprised the sound had penetrated his unconscious mind. He had been so tired when he had finally crashed out on a reed sleeping mat that he had thought it would take an earthquake at the very least to drag him out of his slumber. He guessed he had been more subconsciously alert than he had realized — must be a survival thing, he thought, something he had developed without knowing it over the past couple of days. He raised his hands slowly to show his intentions were harmless. When Jin didn’t reply, he murmured, ‘It’s just … I heard you crying. Thought I’d come see if I could do anything.’

Jin sniffed, hitched in a breath. In a small cracked voice, she said, ‘Sorry I woke you.’

‘Hey, no problem,’ said Sam. ‘My back was kind of aching anyway. That mat’s not exactly big on the spinal support.’

This wasn’t true, but Sam didn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already did. When she remained silent, he glanced beyond her at the night sky. Unlike in the cities he was used to, the stars out here were incredibly bright, and the sky too was a deep, rich velvety blue, undiluted by the sodium glare from street lamps and neon signs.

‘Beautiful night,’ he said.

Jin made no comment.

‘Hey, you want a soda or somethin’? I’m kinda thirsty. And Mowen said we could help ourselves.’

For a moment he was sure Jin would refuse, and then she gave a small tight nod. Sam re-entered the house and made his way through to the kitchen, the polished wooden floor pleasantly cool on the soles of his bare feet. Mowen’s house was spacious and surprisingly homely. There were brightly coloured rugs on the floor and tribal art framed on the walls. The trader — Sam was convinced that some of that trade involved drugs and guns, as well as various other ill-gotten gains — obviously made a good living out of what he did. His house was one of the biggest in the village, and one of a minority that even had electricity.

Although Sam wouldn’t exactly have trusted Mowen, the guy had proved a congenial enough host. No doubt motivated by the hefty financial recompense Ryder White had promised him, he had given all five of them a place to sleep, and had even cooked them a meal — a rice and sausage concoction that reminded Sam of the jambalaya his mom made for him whenever he went home.

Entering the kitchen, he didn’t bother turning on the light. Although everyone else was upstairs, he didn’t want to risk waking them. He grabbed a couple of Cokes from the fridge and padded back through the house to the room where he had been sleeping. He crossed the room and slipped through the screen door on to the front porch. Jin was still sitting out on the wooden steps, a frail hunched shape in the darkness.

‘Here you go,’ Sam said, holding the can out to her.

She took it. ‘Thanks.’

Sam indicated a space next to her on the steps. ‘Mind if I sit down?’

She shrugged and he sat, popping open his can with a hiss. He gulped at the fizzy soda for a moment, relishing the sweetness, the way it made him feel instantly more alive.

‘That’s good,’ he said, glancing at Jin, who was drinking from her own can in tiny sips.

Behind them moths the size of humming birds batted their plump dusty bodies against the softly buzzing porch light.

After a few moments of silence, Sam said, ‘Weird to think how much things have changed in the past couple of days, huh? Pretty tough thing to come to terms with.’

Again, Jin gave a tiny jerk of a nod.

‘It’s bad enough for me, but I guess it’s a hundred times worse for you, this being your home and all.’

Jin said nothing, but when Sam glanced at her he saw fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘You didn’t,’ she snivelled.

‘It’s just —’ he shrugged. ‘I dunno … I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone. That I’m here for you — we all are. And that if you ever want to talk, you just have to say the word. OK?’

She sniffed and nodded.

‘OK,’ said Sam, and put a hand on the step beside him to push himself to his feet. ‘Well, I guess I’ll head back to bed and give you some space.’

He rose to his feet. She glanced up at him.

‘I’d like to,’ she said in a small voice.

‘Huh?’

‘I’d like to talk.’

‘You sure?’

She hesitated, then nodded.