It felt like a march to war because that’s what this was. And Noah was right in the middle of it. The very thing they were fighting over, the very thing they sought—the very thing they were going to lose lives over—and here he was, walking with them.
He looked around at some of these people. Their faces were young. Boys, barely out of their teens. Kids who had been dragged into a vicious war, all because of what he had. All because he was reluctant to give himself up to them.
All because he couldn’t comply with their demands.
All because he couldn’t give himself up.
And he found himself questioning again. Found himself second-guessing. Wondering whether he was doing the right thing. Whether there was a better way. A way he could work this out.
If he surrendered, he saved lives. So many lives.
But then did he? Really?
The Reds would keep coming.
The battle for power would keep on going.
Who was he really helping by giving himself up?
The truth was… both of these groups needed destroying. Neither of them deserved the power they craved. Neither of them deserved any kind of cure.
He walked to the edge of the woods when he saw it up ahead.
The industrial estate. The tall chimneys. The metal fencing. Little dots of life down there. A community, just getting by. Surviving. No desire for conflict. No desire for war.
He stood there, rifle in hand, and his heart began to race again. Because once again, he had a chance here. Surrender. Or at least try to harness that energy inside him. At least try to do what Iqrah did.
Sacrifice herself. For the greater good.
Something he should’ve been strong enough to do.
He closed his eyes and held his breath when he heard something overhead.
At first, he thought it was an engine.
He thought it was a van heading their way. One of the vans they’d abandoned. And he worried they might’ve come across Harry’s body. They might’ve found him, and then they’d be over here and onto Noah before he had a chance to do a thing.
But then he realised something.
It wasn’t an engine. At least, not the engine of a van.
It was above them.
It was…
“Helicopters?” someone said.
Noah looked up into the sky.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Every muscle froze.
Eight helicopters.
All heading towards the industrial estate.
All passing over.
And as they passed over, he noticed something.
A shift to the air.
A light mist falling over them as they stood there, stared up.
“They ours?” someone asked.
“No chance.”
“Reds?”
“I don’t think…”
And that’s when it happened.
That’s when everything changed.
That’s when it all clicked into place.
That’s when the leader of the Society guards coughed up blood and fell to his knees, shaking, fitting, spluttering.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Noah watched the leader of the Society guards fall to his knees, and he knew right at that moment that everything was changing, all over again.
He fell to the ground. Blood spewed out of his lips. His eyes rolled back into his skull. Almost immediately, there was this chemical tang to the air. This dryness. A smell Noah found familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on where he’d smelled it.
He watched then as more of these Society guards dropped to their knees. As they fell, clutching their necks, spewing out blood. Screaming out in agony. Writhing around. Curling their fingers into their palms. Bashing their heads against the ground. Tearing their hair out in clumps.
And it wasn’t just the people. Some of the dogs, too. Shaking. Shitting blood everywhere. Whining. Writhing.
And then eventually, going still.
Totally still.
Noah looked at Bruno. Saw him looking around, wide-eyed, fearful.
Then he looked at the rest of the guards. The rest of these people. The few still standing. Only four of them that he could see.
Their wide eyes staring on. Dragging their masks off, desperately gasping for air. Their faces smeared with the blood of their friends. Some of them turned. Ran.
But there was one who stood there.
Who stared.
Right at Noah.
Right at his arm.
Noah’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t m—”
The guard lifted his rifle and fired.
Noah jumped right out of the way. Fled into the woods. He didn’t have the time to lift that rifle and fire it with one hand. He could only run down through the woods. Down towards the industrial estate.
Because those helicopters.
There was something about those helicopters.
They’d passed over.
That mist fell onto them.
And they’d all fallen.
They’d—
“Come the hell back here!” the guard shouted. He fired a few more stray shots into the woods.
Noah kept on running. Bruno by his side. That was the fear, the big fear. That Bruno would fall under a stray bullet. He’d dodged death so many times. Both of them had. He couldn’t bear the thought that they’d fight all this way—through everything, even after losing each other—only to lose each other again.
But life didn’t work in patterns. Life was random. Life was unpredictable.
Life was fucking cruel.
He looked over his shoulder. Saw movement of that pursuing guard.
When he turned around, he froze.
Up ahead, a mass of bodies lay in front of him.
All of them were armed. They were dressed in Society black.
But these people were different.
These people had a red mark smeared across their chests.
“The Reds,” Noah muttered.
“Wait,” the guard said. “Don’t…”
He stopped. Slowed down, right by Noah’s side. Stared, wide-eyed, at the mass of Red bodies lying before them both.
And through the smell, through that mist, the one thing Noah noticed most prominently?
The one thing Noah noticed was that strange, clear sheen smeared across the bodies.
That film. The same he’d seen in Blackpool. The same he’d seen on the road.
The same he’d seen on the dying Society guard.
“Heli… Heli…”
He looked around at the Society guard standing beside him. Staring off into space at these bodies. Wide-eyed. Clearly terrified.
“Don’t you see now?” Noah asked.
The guard turned around, snapped out of his stupor. “What—”
Noah lifted his rifle and pulled the trigger.
Gunned the guy down to the ground.
He didn’t have any time to fuck around anymore.
He heard those helicopters getting further away,
