Read Online The Rot (Post Apocalyptic Thriller) by Paul Kane - Free Book Online

That I might not be immune to its effects, and if I simply took the SKIN off and started noshing on dry roasted peanuts, I could become like one of the affected in seconds. Might end up throttling someone. Maybe even Dennis… I might even have enjoyed that.
    No. Bad joke. Definitely, considering how—
    Backtracking, don’t worry. Carrie was really the only one who noticed I wasn’t eating or drinking, kept telling me, “You need to keep your strength up, someone in your condition.” She still thought I was sick; ironic really.
    “No, honestly. I’m good.”
    In the end I took the proffered packets of crisps, the bottles of water, and I’d pretend to eat them – just out of sight, when the others weren’t looking. I’d do the same with going to the loo, which we all did privately in the far corner of the cellar anyway. I’d imagine the stink was terrible by then – I was thankful the SKIN filtered it out.
    There were no more scouting missions, mainly because I don’t think Rakesh and Dennis wanted to go out there with each other anymore – and partly because Dennis didn’t want to leave me unguarded; he even slept with that gun across his lap, probably made him feel better. They could have gone out separately, but then that would have meant Dennis trusting Rakesh with the rifle out there – and in all honesty, I still don’t think he would have lasted ten minutes alone – or trusting him to watch me down in the cellar. He wasn’t about to give the weapon to Carrie, either, because she’d already made up her mind I wasn’t a threat. Besides, if there were pockets of survivors out there, the crazies definitely outweighed them, and if they hadn’t gone to ground somewhere they’d probably be dead. They’d be just as hard to find now as we would be.
    So we trod water. I think some part of them all wanted to stay there, though, and pretend none of what had happened had really happened. Maybe wait for rescuers who didn’t even know we were there. Stranded on our own distant planet…
    “At some point we’re going to have to go out there again, you know,” I argued once or twice. “We can’t just sit around here forever.” That would be worse than being trapped behind that glass, trapped in the facility. I couldn’t even get Carrie’s support on that one; not even when we heard people above us in the pub itself, noise and general mayhem – and we’d had to stay quiet, Carrie telling Jane it was all just a game, like the one her mother had been playing with her. That soon they’d see each other again and Jane’s mum would be back to her old self.
    It couldn’t go on, however, and the tipping point came during yet another argument. Dennis had been going on about the chemical weapons thing again – another reason I was glad I hadn’t told the truth about where I’d come from – ranting about terrorism and all that bullshit, as if Rakesh had anything to do with any of that. As if it even mattered anymore after the past week.
    Rakesh had been brave enough to go for the gun this time, to try and take it from Dennis – and they’d wrestled with it. I thought at one point the thing was going to go off. Carrie had been shouting about upsetting Jane again, had gone over to where the girl had been working on yet another project the woman had come up with to keep her occupied – cutting out shapes she’d coloured in, making patterns which she’d eventually show to the art expert Rakesh, who’d nod approvingly whatever they looked like.
    Jane had covered up her head again, as she did whenever these kinds of rows kicked off, so Carrie went over and rubbed her shoulders – trying to calm her down, to calm the sobs that were beginning. I didn’t see what happened next, though, because I was concentrating on what was happening with Dennis and Rakesh. But I saw the aftermath, when the screaming started.
    By the time I glanced over again, Carrie was staggering backwards. She looked like she was crying