Free Infection Z (Book 4) by Ryan Casey Page B

because he noticed the smell of rot, the buzzing of flies.
    “Grim,” Miriam said. The smell and the flies swarmed the dead cows lying in the first few enclosures. But there was no movement. No sign of life. Or death. That was a relief.
    The group settled into an enclosure each. And as Hayden stood by the door, he heard laughter. He heard bedtime stories being muttered from parents to children. He heard tears. Yawns. He heard a kind of normality. A fighting against the odds.
    He heard togetherness.
    But it was all through a lens. Through a dirty lens that he wasn’t sure he’d ever clean.
    No. He knew he’d never clean.
    “You staying for the night at least?” Miriam asked.
    Hayden jumped. She’d appeared out of nowhere. Leaned on the opposite side of the opening, looked out at her people.
    “Suppose I could do with a nap,” Hayden said.
    “It’s normal to be scared,” Miriam said. “We’re all scared. But you can’t let what’s happened change you going forward. We’ve all done shitty things. We’ve all lost some things. But it’s how we react to it. How we fight. That’s what keeps us going. That’s what keeps us important.”
    Hayden nodded. Miriam’s words bounced around Hayden’s head, abstract concepts, ideas that were difficult to tie down. “It must be nice. Having your view of the world.”
    Miriam smiled. “And it must be fucking grim having your view of the world. Gimme a sec. Gotta use the khazi. Wherever that may be.”
    She punched Hayden on his left arm. He winced. But it felt kind of strange. Kind of… nice.
    He watched Miriam walk towards the other side of the cattle barn. Towards the sheltered area. And he thought about what she said. About it being normal to be scared. About staying strong in the face of… well, in the face of everything. About the importance of people. Surviving. Together.
    He waited until she disappeared.
    A painful lump swelled in his throat.
    He took one final look at the cattle barn full of people.
    Then, he turned away and disappeared into the night.

Chapter Fifteen
    H ayden watched the blood drip down his shaking hands, cover the floor of the barn.
    If only he’d made the decision to return sooner, maybe things would’ve been different.

    I t started when he walked away into the night. The darkness was thick and suffocating. The wind was strong, which Hayden never liked. The wind always made things move; made it look like figures were following him, chasing him, pursuing him.
    Constantly on edge. No respite. No relaxing.
    Just the way of the world now.
    Something that came with the territory of surviving alone.
    He listened to his footsteps on the gravel, his heartbeat racing in his chest. But deep inside, as he climbed the hill, eyes just about adjusting to the moonlight, it was the voices of the people he’d met that echoed in his ears. The memory of Miriam. Of how she’d spoken. Of how she’d spoken to him like she’d known him for years.
    Then she’d walked away from him temporarily, and he’d walked away from her permanently.
    A taste of nausea built in his mouth. He knew he was wrong for walking away without saying goodbye. But he’d done what he’d done because there was no future for him with that group. There was no future for him with any group. Because when he was with groups, people died. Usually because of him.
    He didn’t want to lose anyone else.
    He didn’t want to be responsible for any more death.
    So he walked away.
    His feet were chapped, blistered. He couldn’t walk much more. He’d have to find somewhere to rest eventually. But with every pained step, the memory of Miriam filled his mind.
    The wall.
    The boundary between the north and the south.
    A safe place beyond it.
    He still wasn’t sure whether to believe it. But he’d overheard plenty of the other refugees discussing it in the background. Heard the rumours. The rumours of a good world beyond. A world where people survived. Where they led relatively normal