Noah frowned. He didn’t want to see them looking. Didn’t want them to know Iqrah was awake.
Because if she was awake...
“Last chance,” the Red said. “On your knees. Comply. Or it’s over for the girl.”
He looked down at Iqrah again.
Heart racing.
Chest tight.
And he wondered if he could tap into that place.
He wondered if he could sink into that void.
He wondered if he could do it, and how quickly he could do it.
Iqrah opened her eyes.
She looked up at Noah.
And this time, despite the glaze... it looked like she saw him clearly.
She stared up at him, right into his eyes, and smiled.
“Keep fighting,” she whispered.
And then her eyes rolled back into her skull.
She started shaking. Convulsing. Fitting.
And as Noah watched her, his heart pounded harder. He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand.
But something was happening.
Something was changing with her.
Something was...
The Reds standing around the leader dropped their rifles to the ground.
Clutched their throats.
Started shaking. Frothing at the mouths. Fitting, blood seeping out of their mouths, ears, eyes, nostrils.
The leader stood there. Rifle hand shaking. Furrowed brow. Confusion on his face.
“What...” he started.
Blood poured out of his mouth.
He clutched his throat.
His face turning blue.
His rifle falling to the ground.
And all this time, Iqrah lying there on the ground. Twitching. Shaking.
More violent than he’d ever seen.
“Iqrah,” he said.
But she kept on going.
Even though the Reds were on the ground.
Even though they were twitching. Choking on their blood. Fitting and shaking.
Even though they were struggling for their final breaths.
“Iqrah, please,” he said. “It’s... it’s over. It’s...”
Gasps.
Strained gasps from the guards.
Another few shakes.
Another few twitches.
Shrieks of agony and fits of desperation.
And then they just stopped.
Just like that, they went still.
Iqrah kept on shaking. Whites of her eyes totally red in the darkness.
Face covered in blood.
“Iqrah,” Noah said, rushing over to her. “Stop!”
And then her eyes rolled back into place.
She looked up at Noah. Looked right into his eyes.
A smile stretched at the corners of her blood-soaked mouth.
“Thank you,” she said. “For helping me find them. For...”
And then her eyes closed, and she let out a sigh.
“Iqrah?” Noah said.
He checked her pulse.
Nothing.
Breathing.
Nothing.
“Iqrah!”
He laid her on her back.
Breathed into her mouth.
Did compressions on her chest, again, again, again.
“Iqrah!”
But it didn’t matter how long he went on like this.
It didn’t matter how hard he tried.
It didn’t matter how much he told himself this couldn’t happen.
Iqrah’s heart had stopped.
Iqrah’s breathing had stopped.
Iqrah was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Two weeks later...
Noah opened his eyes, and his stomach sank that he’d lived through another night.
It was dark above him. A smell of damp filled this cabin. It wasn’t a big place. Just a small cabin in the woods he’d come across just over a week ago. He knew he needed to find somewhere secluded, far away from people, far away from anyone he could endanger, anyone he could alert to his presence.
He didn’t want the Reds to get their hands on him. He didn’t want the Society to get their hands on him. He didn’t want anyone to get their hands on him.
He just wanted to fade away. To disappear.
Because the one goal he’d found in life—the only goal he’d had left—was to protect Iqrah.
And now Iqrah was gone.
He closed his eyes. Shivered as the cold, damp wood stuck into his back. There was no mattress here. He slept in his clothes. He reeked. He didn’t really care. He could sleep anywhere at that moment. All he wanted to do was sleep. Felt like the only thing he actually could do well at the moment.
Sleep, and ruminate.
Sleep, and think about Iqrah.
Every time he thought of her, it was that final moment that flashed into his mind. Seeing her eyes roll back into her skull. Seeing the blood stream down her face. Feeling that strange tension in the air.
And then her eyes rolling back into place.
“Keep fighting,” she’d said.
And then she closed her eyes and went still.
The moments that followed were a blur. He remembered trying to revive her. Trying to bring her back. Clinging to some misguided hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a twist. Maybe it wasn’t the end of Iqrah. Because it couldn’t be. There had to be something more. She was everything. She was the future. She was hope.
But she was gone.
He remembered Kelly running over to him. Putting her hands on his shoulders. Trying to get him to his feet. Telling him how sorry she was. Shel looking on, wide-eyed, like even she was staggered by the events that’d unfolded.
He remembered them trying to get him to go back to the industrial estate with them. Remembered them trying to convince him they had his best interests at heart. That it was safe for him there.
But he remembered pushing them away and running. Just running.
Because he wasn’t safe around them. They weren’t safe around him.
He needed to be alone. That was the way of his life. That’s the way it had to be from this point on.
He looked around into the darkness. Shivered in the cool air. Heard rain pounding down on the leaky roof above. There was another option. Opting out. Doing exactly what Iqrah had done. Because as impossible as it was to consider, to think about, he was pretty sure she knew exactly what she was doing. Pretty sure she knew she was opting out. That she was sacrificing herself to end this mad chase.
She’d made that decision. She’d made that call. As horrifying and impossible as it was.
And Noah couldn’t shake the feeling it should’ve been him.
He stared into the darkness. Into the mould. There was a stool at the other side of the cabin. It would be so easy to just step up there. To wrap a wire around one of the wooden panels on the roof. To end it, once and for all.
And sometimes, in his loneliest moments, it felt like the best option. For everyone, really. It felt like the only way.
Because everyone was gone.
Everyone was gone.
And if they weren’t gone—people like Kelly—they were better off without him.
They were better
