Darkness still surrounded him. The smell of warm metal, petrol, and sweat. The taste of vomit and stale saliva in his mouth. His ears were ringing so he couldn’t hear anything. His heart pounded in his chest. He felt groggy. Exhausted. Weak.
But as he sat there in this van, he did notice something then.
There was a sound. A different kind of sound. Something outside. Banging. Banging against the metal sides of the vehicle.
Noah heard voices, then. Muffled at first, but then somewhat audible.
“I dunno where the fuck they came from, okay?”
“Didn’t you fucking see them in the distance? A horde like this?”
“Sure. Sure, I saw ’em in the distance, and I just drove on into ’em. They came from nowhere, mate. Absolutely nowhere.”
Noah frowned. A horde. There was only one thing that kind of word could describe.
The infected.
For maybe the first time in his life, Noah felt a twinge of excitement and relief at the thought the infected were here, that they’d stopped this truck in its tracks. Because it gave him a chance. A slim chance sure, but a chance, nonetheless.
“Well, you’d better get on to HQ and make sure they send someone down here to clear ’em, pronto. We don’t have the firepower to deal with this kind of crap. The prisoners?”
“What about ’em?”
“Are they secure?”
“They’re locked up. About as secure as they can be.”
“I don’t mean physically secure, idiot. You know what the hell I’m talking about.”
A silence. A pause. Like the cogs were turning inside.
And as those cogs turned inside, Noah understood, too.
He understood fully.
“Well, I dosed ’em up a couple of hours ago.”
“A couple of hours ago? Then what the fuck are you doing back here? You know that shit fades out after an hour, and we’ve not exactly got a lot of it left. Get back there right now. You shouldn’t even be still here.”
“Sure. Sure.”
Noah heard shuffling feet, but he sensed an opportunity. Sensed a chance.
The shit that suppressed his abilities had faded.
Which meant he had a chance of getting out of here.
He closed his eyes.
Tensed his jaw.
Tried to sink into that void, however distant.
Tried to fall into its strength.
And then he felt something else.
A presence.
A presence like he’d felt back at the Folkesmithe Labs.
Back on Blackpool promenade.
Iqrah.
He saw her there. Visualised her clearly in his mind. And he felt this wasn’t just his imagination. He felt this was real. He felt connected with her.
But they needed to act fast.
He felt himself tensing even further, that blindfold around his head loosening with his sweat. His forehead bulged. His veins throbbed. He felt like they were going to burst.
But he kept on going.
He kept on persevering.
He kept on—
“Hold it right there.”
A voice. Right ahead of him.
Footsteps getting closer.
Then darkness turned to light.
The guard stood there. The ginger, pockmarked face one from earlier. He looked pissed. Really damned pissed.
Iqrah sat there behind him. Upright. Focused.
His eyes widened as he stared into Noah’s. “I know what you’re trying. I know what you’re doing. Don’t even goddamned think about it.”
Noah glanced at Iqrah.
Then back at the man.
Then he closed his eyes and tensed again.
A crack across his face.
Head spinning.
Stars in his eyes.
He looked back around and saw the man standing over him, needle in hand.
“How about we put you back where you belong, you piece of work?”
He reached over.
Pressed the needle to Noah’s neck.
“Nice try, buddy,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s gonna...”
It happened in a flash.
The man yanked the needle away.
His eyes rolled back in his skull.
Blood pooled down his face from his eyes.
And then he looked down at Noah and tumbled to the floor in front of him.
Noah watched him as he lay there, shaking, saliva frothing from his mouth, blood pooling from his ears and nose.
He watched him twitch, and he knew he hadn’t done this, because he hadn’t been strong enough.
He looked over at Iqrah and saw blood pouring down her pale face.
“Iqrah,” he said. “Enough. E...”
He heard more noises, then. More banging. And then he heard struggling and choking somewhere else in this van, over by the driver’s cabin, maybe.
He heard all this commotion, and he knew Iqrah had done it. She’d tapped into that void within. She’d turned them. Sent them tumbling to the floor, dead. Hit them with the full force of the infection.
But at what cost?
He heard the choking and the crying echo out for another few moments before everything went silent.
He sat there. Silence outside. No banging anymore. Was that it? Had she killed them? Had she turned them?
“Iqrah?” he said.
She was quiet.
Blood covered her face.
She sat upright for another few seconds.
And then she slumped over to one side.
“Iqrah!”
He tried to lunge out of this place, snap free of his cuffs, do everything he could to break away.
But what Iqrah had done to the guards didn’t change the situation he was in.
He was still trapped.
They were all still trapped.
And Iqrah was in trouble.
He looked around, heart racing, trying to think what to say, what to do.
That’s when he heard it.
A bang.
And then another bang.
Outside the van.
Another and another, and another.
His body froze.
His mouth went dry.
They were outside.
They were still outside.
And they were still infected.
He sat there, heart racing. Trapped in this van. Surrounded by a “horde” of infected. And he tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do.
And just when it seemed like nothing could get any worse, that’s when the guard lying before him twitched.
Raised his head.
Stared up at Noah with vacant, bloodshot eyes.
And then he snarled.
Chapter Sixteen
Noah stared into the infected guard’s eyes as he looked up and snarled at him, and every muscle in his body went weak.
Blood covered the guard’s face. His face had gone a grey, pale shade in an instant. He opened his mask-less mouth a few times, tried to say something, tried to form some words.
But words failed him.
He didn’t have to say a thing.
The way he looked at Noah told him everything he needed to know about his plans for him.
He staggered to his
