In The End Box Set by Stevens, GJ (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📗

I couldn't help but step to the side, step around Zoe, moving to stand over the rocking body.

“Orders to kill us,” I said, giving each word the slow, careful consideration they deserved. “We're the innocent. We've done nothing wrong. We're no harm to anyone.”

I thought of the old man again. That was an accident and if anyone dare say otherwise…

“Orders to kill the infected,” Naomi said in a weak voice. “Or those carrying maybe? They were trying to save the rest of the people. Our people.”

“Are you saying what Andrew did was wrong? Was he wrong to save your life? Our lives?”

“No,” she said and turned away. I watched her walk up the side of the small valley.

I turned to Zoe; wanted to see what she would do. Wanted to see if she would stay or go.

Her stare fixed on the sway of the body, the gentle moan which had grown quiet. Zoe looked up, considered my face for what seemed like a long time.

Something went weak as I watched her inner torment play out on her features and I melted inside. I gave her the out.

“Someone needs to get Andrew,” I said.

Zoe turned and nodded, then jogged after Naomi to wrap her arm around her shoulder as they disappeared over the crest.

“Cassidy,” I said, sweeping around to catch her eye. Hers, too, were on the man lain on the ground.

“It's Cassie,” she said, her voice stern, her gaze not coming off the man. “Call me Cassie, please.”

I nodded and she turned then paused, nodding toward me then back toward her sister. “Someone needs to take care of him,” she said, walking away.

“Guess that's me then,” I said, although there was no one to listen.

My chest had relaxed since I'd last taken note. My breath was coming easy. Long, deep and rhythmic. I took my first proper look at the man. The straight, unflattering line of the charred flight suit. Utility pouches around his stomach open. A first aid kit spilling out as he rocked. A holster tight around his left thigh. A pistol peering out. I was amazed how much the mind can play tricks. To have thought it was Zoe lain there seemed impossible now.

I turned and saw no-one in the valley. They were gone from sight. They'd left me to decide, to take the hard choice. Put him out of his misery or take my revenge and leave him slowly to die. Leave him defenceless, meat for the real enemy.

It was my choice and I wouldn't let them hold it over me. This was a new world. The old laws no longer made sense. We were in the new frontier, governed only by the law of the jungle. Survival of the fittest. Did mercy still have a place?

Although I'd been watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest all this time, it was only now I realised the movement had stopped. The decision had been taken away.

With gratitude rising, I dropped to my knees and undid the Velcro of each pouch, took the first aid kit, a survival tin, and two magazines for the gun.

The body twitched and I stepped back, watching on as the chest deflated, gas belching from his mouth and the other end.

I paused, a thought sudden in my head. What if you didn't need to be bitten to catch whatever it was? Was death enough? The thoughts were plenty to get my pulse raised and my fingers set about working the Velcro of the holster when I caught that smell again.

“Give me a fucking break,” I said, almost shouting.

I looked up, not knowing what I'd see but had not expected another olive-green flight suit standing over the edge of the valley. His face was red with blood and he swayed as if dizzy. In his hand he held a pistol matching the one I was moments from gripping, the gun waving from side to side, but pointing in my general direction.

26

COMMANDER LANE

The first sign was the internet going down. The Skype connection to my wife lost in an instant. Her face frozen in perfection, despite the wide yawn.

With the abrupt halt to our conversation, we'd have to decide later what we'd get up to when my shift finished tomorrow. How we'd celebrate New Year’s Eve a day late, just the two of us. The twins weren't children anymore. I had to keep reminding myself they were nineteen, back from Bristol University for a month. Tomorrow, like tonight, they'd be at a house party, living life as young women should.

I had to stay awake, part of being on call, but Bethany kept her eyes open with matchsticks because she wanted to stay in my time zone.

The second I knew was the relief on my Petty Officer's face as he found me tucked in the corner of our mess room; with such politeness he told me he'd been hunting for me for too long already.

A shout had come in; he didn’t know if it was a training exercise or something more real. All he knew was we’d been ordered to the apron with a briefing on route.

A situation like this wasn't unheard of, but unusual enough to note. We were given a clear flight path to RNAS Culdrose, the only other Naval Air Station in the UK.

The third sign something had gone to shit was in the Land Rover taxiing to the aircraft. I saw the point five machine gun bolted down in the doorway.

Leading Hand Spicer was already aboard, his feet straddling the machine gun. Lieutenant Commander Stubbs sat in the seat next to mine, all but spinning the rotors.

Despite being an operational unit on call, we weren't search and rescue. Those days were gone. We were there to support coastal manoeuvres. To help