The Alpha Plague (Book 6)

by Michael Robertson

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Mailing List

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Authors Under the Sheild of Phalanx Press

  The Alpha Plague 6

  By

  Michael Robertson

  Website and Newsletter:

  http://michaelrobertson.co.uk

  Email: subscribers@michaelrobertson.co.uk

  Edited by:

  Terri King - http://terri-king.wix.com/editing

  And

  Pauline Nolet - http://www.paulinenolet.com

  Cover Design by Christian Bentulan

  The Alpha Plague 6

  Michael Robertson

  © 2016 Michael Robertson

  The Alpha Plague 6 is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, situations, and all dialogue are entirely a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously and are not in any way representative of real people, places or things.

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Would you like to be notified when The Alpha Plague 7 becomes available? Join my mailing list for all of my updates here:-

  MAILING LIST

  Chapter One

  The long grass—still damp from the morning dew—whipped at Vicky’s legs and dragged against her getaway as she fought to regulate her breaths. She’d made this run countless times already and she had the beating of them. Not that her heart got the message; it pounded in her chest as if trying to bash its way free.

  “You’re fucking insane, you know that?” Serj called at her from behind. His accusations usually started about now. Not quite as fast as Vicky, the panic often kicked in for him just before they reached the woods and he always took it out on her. He’d coped up until now and had been fine every other time, so she had no reason to believe he’d fail today.

  “Yet you listen to me,” Vicky called back to him, dragging a deep breath before she added, “so what does that say about you?”

  The dense trees muffled Serj’s reply as Vicky ducked into the woods, swerving through the tightly packed trunks with both Serj and the eight to twelve diseased behind her. They’d run this route so many times that Vicky went into autopilot and fell into her usual pattern of twisting and turning to navigate the mazy path.

  The quick changes in direction dragged on Vicky’s tired limbs, and her legs shook from the extra effort. Every deep inhale pulled the pine-scented air into her lungs. It made sense to run through the trees because it gave them the edge. With better control over their bodies than the diseased, they could navigate the complex route more easily.

  About halfway through the tight space, Vicky heard the diseased enter behind them. Clumsy footsteps crunched through the dead leaves on the ground, and screams followed thuds as they ran into tree after tree. In a different situation, it would have been funny to listen to.

  When Vicky burst out of the woods on the other side, the strong sunlight dazzled her. She squinted against it, her eyes stinging, but she kept going. A second later, she heard Serj’s heavy steps behind her, his fitness clearly waning.

  No more than a hundred metres to go, Vicky looked at the huge oak tree that served as their destination. For some reason, the final stretch always felt the worst and Vicky dug deep to will her clumsy body forward.

  Two thick ropes hung down from one of the tree’s main branches. One for Vicky and one for Serj.

  When Vicky looked behind again, she saw the pack of diseased emerge from the woods. They wore the same fury she’d seen on their faces a million times. Wide mouths, wild eyes, and flailing limbs, every one of them looked as if they ran on the edge of their balance. Tilting forward as they moved in their desire to get at their prey, they still somehow moved with the pace of athletes—even the fat ones.

  The ropes were just a few metres away, so Vicky focused solely on them, her legs damp with dew, her pulse pounding through her skull. They hung above a sharp hill that ran about three metres down and was steep enough to resemble a small cliff.

  When Vicky reached the edge of it and jumped, she caught the rope with both hands and clamped the large knot at the bottom with both of her feet. As the rope swung, she scrabbled up it, her palms clammy with sweat.

  The higher Vicky moved, the less effect the rope’s pendulous swing had on her. It travelled back and forth as she shimmied a couple of metres up to another knot. She held herself there and watched Serj leap for his rope.

  A few seconds later, Serj—breathing so heavily he looked like he’d vomit—climbed up as high as Vicky.

  The herd of diseased ran for the pair. The lead one—a large black man so bald the sun bounced off his shiny head and created a sharp glare—reached out for Vicky’s rope as the ground disappeared beneath him. Although he batted the knot at the bottom, he didn’t have the co-ordination to grip on and his legs folded as he fell down the steep hill.

  The rest of the pack followed him over. They moved like a herd of spooked animals driven over the edge of a cliff. All of them made a pathetic attempt to grab the ropes that Vicky and Serj held onto. All of them missed.

  Vicky watched them stack up on the ground below. They turned into a rotten pile of entangled limbs. Every time on
e tried to get to its feet, another one fell over the top and knocked it down again. Cracks, slaps, and screams came up at them as the bodies collided. She winced as heads smashed against cheeks and knees cracked temples.

  ***

  Once all of the diseased had fallen over the edge, Vicky looked back the way they’d come from. A fresh breeze ran across the field they’d just crossed, swaying the long grass. The dew glittered in the bright morning sun. She looked all the way to the woods they’d run through, the grass pressed down along the path they’d taken so many times before. There didn’t seem to be any more diseased.

  When Vicky looked at Serj, Serj nodded.

  After a deep breath, Vicky climbed higher up the rope. The coarseness of it burned her palms and exhaustion turned her arms weak. No matter how fit she got, the run always wore her out; fear had a way of taking its pound of flesh.

  Most of the diseased below them had gotten to their feet; when Vicky looked down, she saw a sea of twisted, cut, and bloody faces. The run through the trees and the collisions with one another seemed to have taken its toll on them. They stared up at her through their red and crusty eyes, and they bit at the air like they could taste her.

  At the top of her rope, Vicky grabbed a second, skinnier rope. Two gates sat below her. The thinner cord in her hand ran to the first gate directly at the bottom of the hill. It stood between the diseased and their route back out of there. When she gave it a sharp tug, it removed the block holding the gate in place. Gravity helped the gate fall forward, gathering momentum until it slammed shut with a loud crash and penned the diseased in.

  Vicky raised her eyebrows at Serj. “No matter how many times we do this, I can’t relax until now.”

  So used to the reek of the diseased, Vicky only smelled them now she’d calmed down a little. The heady stink of rot rose at her as if it curdled the air. She looked out over the pen at all of the other diseased they’d caught. About two hundred of them in total, they made their way over to the newest arrivals, their blank and bloody eyes looking up at Vicky and Serj.

  “I hate the way those fuckers stare at us,” Serj said.

  Vicky’s stomach sank to take in the emaciated ex-humans, the sight of them no less potent despite living with them for years. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? They’ve been in this world for over a decade and they’re still consumed with their desire to get to us.”

  “And it’s no less horrifying to look at,” Serj added.

  Vicky reached out and pulled on another rope. It ran to the catch on a second gate, which separated the new arrivals from the main pen. When she pulled it, the second gate swung open and gave the new diseased access to the rest of their enclosure. It also let the other diseased out into the containment area, but with the outer gate now closed, they couldn’t get any farther than that.

  After Vicky had shimmied down to the knot at the bottom of her rope, she looked at Serj again. “You ready for this?”

  Several shades paler than his usual Indian hue, Serj gulped, his Adam’s apple lifting and dropping again. “I hate this bit.”

  “You’ve done it countless times before and been fine every time.”

  “I still worry I could misjudge it and end up down there with them.”

  “If you do,” Vicky said, swinging back and forth on the rope like a playful child, “I’ll still remember to say good morning to your diseased arse when I come and visit.”

  “Gee, thanks!” Serj said.

  When Vicky had enough motion, she focused on the patch of high ground they’d come from and let go of the rope.

  The moment of weightlessness made Vicky’s stomach turn backflips and her arms flailed as she flew through the air. A sharp jolt snapped through her when she hit the hard ground, solid for the lack of rain that summer. When she turned around, she saw Serj launch himself after her.

  Maybe she hadn’t managed it any better than Serj, but to see him fly through the air—his arms and legs wild, his mouth wide in a silent scream—made her smile.

  A thud and Serj hit the ground, his legs giving way beneath him.

  Vicky held her hand out and smiled at him. “You okay?”

  Another gulp and Serj gasped. “Yep. Although I still stand by what I said.”

  “Which is?”

  “You’re insane.”

  Vicky laughed. “My mum used to say that to me, you know? Whenever I got the chance to do something nuts, I would. I’d swan dive from the sofa, try somersaults I couldn’t land on the patio in the back garden, throw stones at windows.” To think of her mother made her smile, but the happiness passed with a pang. She never went to find her when the virus spread; it would have been suicide to go into such a populated part of London, and no way would her mum have survived the chaos at her age. “Although, I’d like to think I consider the consequences more now.”

  Vicky walked back toward the steep slope they’d led the diseased over and stared at the penned-in crowd. She smiled. “But look at what we have now.”

  The sound of two hundred or more diseased groaning and shuffling called through the otherwise still morning air.

  When Serj walked up next to her and looked at the sea of infection down below, he shook his head. “Yeah, just look at them. What an achievement! It looks like a scene from Dante’s Inferno.”

  “Don’t be so soft, Serj.”

  Serj didn’t reply; instead, he backed away and Vicky followed him. They still had more to do.

  ***

  It might have been early enough for the sun to still be low in the sky and for the ground to be covered in dew, but being June and cloudless, the day rapidly heated up and sweat itched beneath Vicky’s collar. A thirst bit into her throat that swallowing couldn’t sate; it tasted like dust. She couldn’t see the pen of diseased from her current position. They’d backed far enough away and the sudden drop in the landscape hid it from view, but she could still hear their groaning discontent and smell their rotten stench. It smelled so rich they could have been lying next to her.

  They knew what to do—they’d done it plenty of times before—so without a word, Vicky nodded at Serj and he ran off to their left. A wide arc around the side of the pen meant he could approach it without being seen.

  ***

  The sound of the diseased had died down. They’d clearly forgotten about the humans they’d seen in the tree, so when a cacophony of screaming fury exploded to life again, Vicky took that as her cue.

  Vicky walked close to the sharp drop and peered down at the pen. She did her best to remain hidden. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if they noticed her, but it would drag the process out even longer. At that thought, her stomach rumbled. She needed to get back to Home for some breakfast.

  Fortunately, their plan worked well that morning. All of the diseased focused their attention on Serj when he appeared at the other side of the pen by the river. He waved his arms and jumped on the spot. Vicky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. With the newly trapped diseased joining the others in the corner by Serj, she slowly slid down the hill to the first gate.

  While holding her breath and with her heart beating in her chest, Vicky pulled the gate open towards her. The hinges creaked, but the diseased seemed too occupied with Serj to notice.

  Vicky slipped through the opening and eased the gate closed behind her to stop it from slamming shut. That had happened once before; a loud crash, and the diseased had turned on her as one savage force. They’d sprinted for the second, open gate, making it a race between them and her. She’d won that day, pulling the second gate closed and penning them in. But it had been close.

  In the same way the first gate had slammed shut into its latch when Vicky had pulled on the rope, the second gate had swung open away from its latch. It meant she had to close it now so they could reset the trap.

  The pack of diseased shuffled and screamed as they focused their attention on Serj. It didn’t matter how many times Vicky stood between the two gates, in her current position—exposed until
she locked the second one—panic always threatened to reach up and choke her.

  Vicky drew a deep breath, ran into the pen for the second gate, grabbed the middle of it, and dragged it backwards with her. By the time the diseased had turned in response to the sharp groan of the old hinges, she’d already beaten them. A loud crash and the gate slammed shut.

  The diseased rushed over and slammed into the locked gate as if they hadn’t seen it. Vicky watched them as she backed away and placed the block back beneath the first gate, propping it open for their next entrapment.

  She then climbed the hill, her back to the monsters in the pen, her legs aching from the short yet steep ascent. The gate did enough to contain the diseased. The second the stupid bastards realised just how practical their opposable thumbs were, they’d be fucked. Until then, the dumb monsters could be easily contained.

  At the top of the hill, Vicky looked across the pen and gave Serj a thumbs-up. Serj returned the gesture before he turned around and headed in the direction of Home.

  ***

  On their way back to Home, Serj shook his head. “You’re fucking insane.”

  The sounds of the trapped diseased came from behind them and rode the air. But they wouldn’t be able to hear them from Home, so they didn’t have to tell the others—not yet anyway. “Yep,” Vicky said, “but it’ll work. Trust me.”

  Chapter Two

  As Vicky walked along the corridor with Flynn beside her, she inhaled the acerbic bite of bleach in the air and looked down. The floor had dents, dirty scratches, and stains, but she couldn’t see a single tear or rip in the blue linoleum. It had held up to over a decade’s worth of use. Other than the sound of her and Flynn’s footsteps, she heard little else.

  A barbed lump lodged in Vicky’s throat as she marched on. Flynn hadn’t taken well to the idea, but—like she’d told him—they needed to do it to move forward. The threat of tears itched her eyeballs, but she held them back. She could hardly cry considering she was the one who insisted this needed to happen.