Surviving The Virus | Book 8 | Pestilence

in all truth. But it was always during the most peaceful moments that Noah felt most on edge. Because it was in those peaceful moments that you could get complacent. That you could let your guard drop.
Noah knew a thing or two about letting his guard drop during seemingly peaceful moments.
He thought about Kelly and Baby Edward on the road, all those years ago. He thought about his determination to move on. His eagerness to get to safety. And he knew he needed to keep his guard up now. Maybe now more than ever.
Because not only were he and Iqrah important. But they were actively wanted. Actively pursued by Society guards with bad intentions.
And the more time passed without confrontation, the more Noah started to fear things were so close to slipping out of control.
Iqrah walked slightly ahead of Noah, Bruno by her side. He didn’t like her getting too far from him, just in case. He’d already seen her get herself into some shitty situations in the past. He felt the need to keep her close. To never loosen his grip. Because loosening his grip could be dangerous. It could be risky.
He didn’t even want to make the journey he was making right now. The journey to Blackpool, to try and find any trace of her long-estranged parents. He thought going to any former populated town was risky. Especially one where the Society would know about. That’s why they’d held off initially. Noah figured they’d know about Iqrah’s links to Blackpool, so they’d send people over there right away—if there weren’t people there already.
So they’d held back. Resisted. Waited almost a week.
But it was finally time to face something that Noah wasn’t sure he even wanted to face at all.
And he was growing progressively worried that he’d already lost his grip on Iqrah.
He tried to keep calm. Tried to keep his cool. Tried to just ride out her sulk. Because she always snapped out of them eventually. And the more he rode it out, the more likely it was she’d just let shit go.
But he was tired, and he was antsy, and she was bugging him. So he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t resist.
“You just gonna sulk around all day then?”
Iqrah turned around. Late teens, but a childishness to her, a lack of maturity to her, the hallmarks of a child who’d grown up very much in this world, a walking contradiction of maturity in some ways and innocence in others. Went with the territory considering she’d been dragged out of primary school by the virus, had her education halted, and been forced to grow up in a very different way to tradition. “Maybe I will,” she said.
The hairs on Noah’s neck stood on end. “Well I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t randomly kill everyone we come across.”
“Is that what this is about? Last night? Really? Still?”
“Still?” Iqrah shouted. “That man did nothing wrong. He just walked past. He walked past, and you did what you always do, didn’t you?”
“If I didn’t, we’d be—”
“Don’t say it.”
“Say what?”
“What you always say. How it’s about me. How it’s about looking out for me. Making sure no harm comes to me. Or whatever bullshit you always peddle.”
“So you don’t believe me?”
“I know you want the best for me,” Iqrah said. “But you... you can’t just live life like I’m the only one in the world that needs saving. That needs protecting. Because there’s others, too. People out there. Normal people with normal lives. And if you do those things to them, if you hurt them... how does that make you any different to the people you’re trying to protect us from? How does that make you any better?”
Noah opened his mouth. He wanted to defend himself. Wanted to stand up for himself.
But he knew there was nothing he could say.
He had no argument.
He closed his mouth. Sighed. “I know you don’t like it when I say it. But I do it for you.”
“Then stop,” she said. “I’d rather you didn’t do it for me. If that’s what it takes, if that’s what you have to do, I’d rather you didn’t.”
“So you’d rather get hurt? You’d rather they abducted you? Rather they strapped you up to one of those machines again and sucked the brains from your skull?”
Iqrah looked into Noah’s eyes, and she smiled. “I’d rather nobody died. I’d rather just... live. No matter what it takes.”
She turned around and started walking. Bruno walking along by her side.
Noah stood there. Stared off down the road. Beyond the abandoned buildings. And right ahead towards the western coast of the country.
He saw the Blackpool, 8 miles sign staring down at him.
Rust and blood splattered across the metal.
He took a deep breath, and he walked.

Chapter Four
Noah saw the “Welcome to Blackpool” sign staring down at him and felt a wave of tension fill his body.
The sky had clouded over, which seemed typical of Blackpool. All his memories here of his childhood were never sunny. He never used to like coming here. Didn’t like roller coasters, so a trip to Blackpool was always a stellar exercise in the most acute kind of dread. Even the smell of fish and chips triggered him to the day, mostly because it reminded him of those fruitless, torturous seaside trips.
There was no smell of fish and chips anymore, of course. Just a smell of bitterness to the air. A damp taste, a humidity.
He stood at the entrance to the seaside town and marvelled at just how ghostly it felt. It’d always been a weirdly ghostly town. Felt the kind of place that was only ever kept alive by tourists. The chiming of music from the arcades. The smell of warm candy floss. And the screams from the roller coasters in the distance.
But look beyond the surface, and you saw a different kind of reality. You saw the boarded-up hotels stacked next to one another. You saw the grimy brothels stuffed away in plain