Infection Z (Book 4) (17 page)

H
ayden heard
the blast of gunfire crack through the tunnel.

His instinct was to jump. To throw himself to the right. He wasn’t sure how successful he was dodging the bullet. Wasn’t sure how good an aim his enemy had on him.

Only that he had to jump.

He had to avoid being shot.

He couldn’t just allow himself to be shot. Not now.

He fell to the ground. Got a face full of dust, a mouthful of blood.

He looked up. Saw the beaming light still shining at him. He couldn’t feel any pain other than the pain of his fall, so he assumed he hadn’t been shot.

Not yet.

He heard the gunfire again. Rolled to the right. Because that was all he could do. Roll. Fucking roll and hope for the best.

He hit the wall at the side of the tunnel.

The searing light closing in on him.

The man with the gun stepping closer.

“Why are you doing this?” Hayden shouted.

The man stopped. Hayden hadn’t seen his face yet. Just the light. Just that bright light beaming down on him.

“Why am I doing this?” the man asked. There was a slight foreign twinge to his voice. Spanish, perhaps. “I’m doing this to protect our people.”

“No. That’s not true. You know as well as anyone we’re not a threat—”

“This’ll be easier if you’re silent,” the man said.

Hayden looked to his left. Looked into the darkness. Then he looked to his right. Looked over at the city. The entrance to the city. He couldn’t see it. Not clearly. The light in his eyes was way too bright, distorting his view of everywhere else.

Hayden spat a lump of bloody saliva onto the ground. Looked back into the light. “There’s people out there. Good people out there.”

“I’m not doubting that.”

“Good people who just want to survive. Who want to survive more than anything.”

“But sometimes survival means making sacrifices. It means making the tough decisions. The difficult decisions. You are a part of that. Don’t you see? You are a part of the greater future.”

Hayden stayed still. He wasn’t sure where Paul and Shelly had got to. All he knew was that they’d run in this direction. He hoped they were safe. He hoped, whatever happened, they’d made it someplace safe.

He hoped Miriam was safe.

He hoped Sam was safe.

“Then do what you have to do,” Hayden said.

The light lowered.

Lowered, for just a moment.

Hayden took a deep breath.

Made the most of the moment.

He swung his right leg. Whacked it right into the man’s left shin. Hard.

When the man lost his balance, Hayden dragged himself up. Threw himself at the man. Pushed him down to the ground.

The man continued firing his gun. The gunshots so loud they were ringing in Hayden’s ears, chiming in his skull.

He pushed the man’s right hand away. Pushed it down. Head-butted him, busting his own nose in the process.

He did it again.

And again.

Until the man’s hand loosened.

Until his grip on the gun gave way.

Hayden snatched the gun from the man’s hand.

Took the light from his left.

Shone it down on his face.

He saw the man. The olive-skinned man with the dark, curly hair. The brown eyes.

He saw the blood all over his face.

His bust lip.

His swollen eyes.

And he knew he’d done this.

He’d done it because he had to.

“Now it’s my turn to apologise,” Hayden said, heart racing, well aware of the one thing he had to do, the one action he had to take.

He pressed the gun into the man’s chest.

“No, please!”

The man didn’t say another word.

Not unless you count screaming as a word.

Hayden fired the bullet right into the middle of the man’s chest. Felt his blood trickling down between his fingers.

And then he stepped away.

Shone the light on the man.

Shone it on him as he struggled.

As he writhed in agony.

As he whimpered.

He wanted to put him out of his misery. He wanted to finish him off, end his pain.

But he knew there was something else to do.

He knew there was another purpose behind his decision to shoot the man.

Another reason.

Hayden wasn’t sure how long he crouched there in the darkness, shining the light on the man.

Shining it at him as he spluttered up blood.

As his eyes glazed.

As his skin greyed.

And he wasn’t even sure whether he was in the right. He wasn’t sure whether his suspicions were correct.

Just that he needed to know.

He needed to see it for himself.

See the same thing that’d happened to Anthony.

See the same thing that’d happened to Bob.

To Harold.

To so many others.

He’d almost given up hope when he saw the man’s left hand twitch.

Hayden’s heartbeat sped up. He could be wrong. Could just be a trick of the light. Could be looking at things the wrong—

Then the man’s head twisted to the left.

His jaw snapped.

A bloody, throaty gargle emerged from his throat.

Hayden crouched there. Partly stunned. Partly in disbelief.

But mostly relieved.

Relieved, because his suspicions were true.

Relieved, because his hopes were right.

He wasn’t a carrier. There was no airborne virus.

This was all a construction. All a construction by the people in power.

All a method of selective infecting.

With bullets. With injections. With knives. With God knows what else if it somehow got to little Tim. Maybe he’d just cut himself. Or maybe he’d ingested something. He didn’t know. Maybe he’d never know.

But as he watched the man rise to his feet, blood still rolling down the front of his body, Hayden knew what mattered more than anything right now.

What mattered was the truth.

This gun had infected bullets in it.

The gun that shot Anthony had infected bullets in it.

The people behind the fences, running the camps, were using the infection as a weapon.

He lowered the gun, reached for his wrench, and went to swing it at the neck of the man.

Before he could, Hayden heard gunfire.

He watched as blood spurted out of the man’s neck.

Watched his head snap to one side.

Watched the undead life seep from his body.

Watched him tumble to the ground.

He stood there. Silent. Listening to the echoing gunshot. Watching the blood roll out of the man’s neck.

And then he heard the sound of shutters lifting to his right.

Felt fresh air drifting into the tunnel.

He turned.

Saw a mass of people standing at the entrance to the city.

Saw the look of shock in their eyes.

The look of bewilderment.

The look of fear.

At the front of the group, a number of well-armed guards, all dressed in black.

And in front of those, a man.

He was short. Wearing a black suit. Dark brown hair thinning at the sides. A look of remorse on his face, but the staged sort. Like you often saw on television chat shows or reality TV before the world collapsed.

He was looking right at the fallen man. The man who Hayden had shot.

“And now you see,” the man said, his voice a perfect RP intonation. “Now you see what happens when a carrier comes into contact with one of our own.”

And Hayden understood.

Hayden understood what the man was saying.

How the man was twisting this situation in his favour.

The angry voices in the crowd lifted.

The frustration built outside the tunnel.

“We don’t need to witness any more violence this evening,” the posh man said. “Losing Luis in such circumstances is enough. Take him out.”

“
W
ait
!”

Hayden wasn’t sure where the voice came from. Somewhere within. Somewhere deep within him. A place that had more courage than he thought he had on the surface.

But as he shouted the word, he noticed he hadn’t been shot. He noticed the men with the guns had indeed held their fire. That they were, in fact, waiting.

He looked at them. Looked at them, the dim lights of the city glowing behind them. He looked into the terrified faces of the residents. Of the confused looks. They looked like they’d been through hell. Like they’d seen all there was to see.

And Hayden hated to have to pull the wool from over their eyes. He hated to have to be the one to send their world crashing around them once again.

But he had to try.

“You can shoot me or you can at least listen,” Hayden shouted, his voice echoing against the tunnel walls. “To what I have to say.”

Silence from the crowd. A growing redness in the face of the main man, the posh man in the suit.

Hayden lowered the wrench. Pushed it away. And then he lowered the gun. Lowered the gun he’d shot the guy called Luis with. The gun that turned Luis. Just like the gun that turned Anthony.

“I don’t want to threaten you. I don’t want you to think I’m just walking beyond your walls to cause trouble.”

“Murderer!” someone shouted.

“If it wasn’t for you my son would still be alive!”

Hayden nodded. Swallowed a sickly, bloody lump in his throat. “I understand you hating me. I understand that. But you need to realise something. And that something is… is that we’re all people. We’re all humans.”

“But you aren’t welcome!” a man shouted from the back of the crowd.

“Maybe so,” Hayden said, his voice croaky, his throat sore. “And I can understand that. I can accept that. I was like you once. I was holed up in a camp of my own. Worried about leaving. Worried about letting anyone else in. And rightly so. People killed the ones I loved. Not zombies, people. People have hurt me way more than the zombies have since the world fell. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

A few mutters amongst the crowd. A few whispers. The air inside the tunnel getting colder, Hayden shivering.

“I respect your resolve,” the main man said.

He cleared his throat. Pulled a white mask over his face. Stepped towards Hayden.

“I should introduce myself. Terrance. Terrance Schumer. I run this place. I run the world beyond the fences.”

Hayden’s fists tensed. He wanted to speak his mind. He wanted so desperately to speak the truth.
So you’re the one who makes the decisions. You’re the one in charge.

“Mr Schumer,” one of the guards said. “You might want to be careful—”

“It’s okay,” Terrance said, raising a hand. He looked Hayden right in his eyes as the light from the guards and crowd behind illuminated the tunnel. “I can handle this. We can talk this one out with dignity. Can’t we, Mr…”

“Hayden. Hayden McCall.”

Terrance Schumer stepped closer to Hayden. The crowd watched with wide eyes. Puzzled eyes. Terrified eyes.

“Mr McCall, I appreciate your concerns. But you saw it for yourself. What happened to my associate, Luis. That happened directly as a result of your carrier status. Just like the outbreaks in our city this evening. All as a result of migrants. You can understand our need to quarantine, can’t you? You can understand our need to be careful?”

Hayden had to bite his lip to stop himself exploding with anger. “The people outside the fences. The ones you gunned down. Do you call that being careful?”

Terrance Schumer looked at Hayden with eyes even glassier than a zombie’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Whatever happens outside our fences is beyond our control.”

So there it was. The lie. The lie to add to the ever-growing collection. Not only was Terrance Schumer lying to his people about the presence of an airborne virus to perpetuate fear of outsiders, but he was also lying about his people’s involvement outside the walls, too. Lying about the preventative measures they were taking. “And what about Salvation?”

Terrance’s eyes narrowed. “Sal… Salvation?”

“You know what I’m talking about. The camp. All the camps you have set up outside these fences of yours.”

“Again, you must be mistaken.”

“Mistaken. Right. Of course. I must be.”

A long silence stretched on between Hayden and Terrance. And the longer it went on, the more the eyes of the crowd burned into him, Hayden knew he was going to have to do something drastic. Something subtle, but drastic. He couldn’t blow it. He couldn’t blow his reason for being here. His motive.

He had to play this right.

If there was a way of playing it right at all.

“You know, I will walk away,” Hayden said. “Because I do believe in what you’re getting at, ultimately.”

“And what am I getting at?”

Hayden swallowed. “That sometimes sacrifices have to be made to preserve the wider society. That sometimes… sometimes people have to die to keep the majority alive. Sometimes, the weak have to pay to keep the privileged living.”

Terrance didn’t show any signs of responding to Hayden. Just frowned at him. Squinted, like he was weighing him up. Trying to figure him out.

“But I also believe in something else,” Hayden said.

Silence, again.

Silence until Terrance opened his mouth.

“And what’s that?”

Hayden took a deep breath in. Tasted blood on his tongue, sweat on his lips.

He looked past Terrance Schumer. Looked at the crowd of people. All watching. Waiting for an answer. Waiting for something.

“I believe that you’ve been lying to your people about the virus being airborne.”

A shift in Terrance’s demeanour. A slight turn to the right. “I… I don’t know what you’re—”

“I believe you’ve been intentionally infecting people. To terrify your citizens. To keep the powerful alive.”

Terrance looked back at the onlooking crowd. Muttering picked up amongst them. More confusion. More bewilderment. “I… I don’t know what you’re—”

“And I’m going to prove it,” Hayden said.

He took in another deep breath.

Then he crouched down.

Picked up the pistol.

He heard the command. Heard the panic in Terrance Schumer’s voice. Heard the anxious cries of the crowd.

And he felt the first bullet hit him. Heard it hit him in his left shoulder. Send him tumbling back against the cold ground of the tunnel. Hot. Searing.

But Hayden clutched hold of the pistol.

Clutched hold of it, lifting it to his chest, the pain in his left shoulder getting stronger, stronger…

Lying on his side, Hayden put the gun to his shoulder. And he saw the look in Terrance Schumer’s eyes as he started to run. Saw that look of realisation in his eyes. Of what Hayden was doing. Of what this was.

With the little strength remaining in Hayden’s lungs, he said, “If I’m not lying, then let’s just see what happens to me.”

He closed his eyes.

Pressed the pistol to his own chest.

Pulled the trigger.