Protectors - Book one of Beyond These Walls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by Michael Robertson

  “How could we?” Hugh said.

  “Exactly. It’s what we wanted to happen. In less than a week you’re going to be outside those walls. You need to know how to fight the diseased. We’ve been working on desensitising you, but nothing will test you like fighting the things. It was important you believed the threat to be real.” He looked straight as Spike when he said, “You needed to prove to yourselves that you can do it.”

  Hugh again: “I’m not sure I did.”

  “Well, you now know you need to stick close to William. From what I just saw, he’s capable of doing the fighting for both of you. And seeing as you need to get yourself more comfortable around the diseased, you’re part of the cleanup crew. William and Max, you can go back to bed.”

  Judging by Hugh’s pale complexion, Bleach’s words had offered him zero comfort. It made Spike feel awful in contrast because they were exactly what he needed to hear.

  Chapter 46

  Very little got in the way of Spike having a good night’s sleep. He could count his restless nights on one hand. The more stressed he felt, the better he slept. Anxiety made him tired, so with training over and them going outside the walls tomorrow, he should have slept like the dead. Instead, he’d suddenly snapped awake in the darkness of his room. Although he blinked, it did little to give him a clear view of his surroundings. Then he felt the reason for the disruption. The bed shook and he heard a wet sniff beneath him. Hugh had been growing ever more frantic as they got close to the end of the month. They all had. But what did he expect? That the guards would decide the wall didn’t matter as much as the precious little cadets’ well-being? They had to deal with it whether they liked it or not. Plenty died while building the wall; they were now responsible for whether they became one of the expired.

  When Hugh’s cries turned into whimpers, Spike shook his head. If he ignored him, maybe he’d go back to sleep. He didn’t need to go outside the walls tired.

  But Hugh’s sobbing grew louder. After tutting, Spike leaned out of his bed, his head spinning to look down on his friend in the bunk below.

  The snivelling stopped with Hugh drawing a sharp intake of breath and holding it. He’d been rumbled.

  “Are you okay?” Although Spike tried to keep his voice low, he heard Max stirring across the room from them.

  Hugh’s mewling reply told him everything he needed to know. “I’m okay.”

  Slipping out of bed, flinching when his bare feet hit the cold floor, Spike pulled his trousers and T-shirt on. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”

  Another wet sniff, the hunched silhouette of Hugh stood up, put his clothes on too, and followed Spike out of the room.

  Just before he stepped out into the corridor, Spike turned to Hugh and pressed his finger to his lips. When he got the nod from his squat friend, he moved off again.

  Maybe Spike made some noise with his steps, but if he did, he couldn’t tell because of Hugh’s slapping gait behind him. The flat-footed boy sounded like he walked with flippers. Even his breathing served as an alarm call for any light sleepers in the dorm. Hopefully Bleach didn’t wake up easily.

  About half the distance travelled towards the door, Spike stopped and turned to his friend again. They’d passed Bleach’s room, but they still needed to be quiet. This time he pressed a more forceful finger across his lips and scowled at him. Shut the hell up! When Hugh nodded, he rolled his eyes and took off again, quicker than before. If he couldn’t silence the boy, at least he could get them out of there ASAP.

  Hugh followed, louder than ever.

  As they passed the girls’ dorm, Spike glanced in to see three still forms in the two bunk beds.

  Just a few metres until they got to the dorm’s exit, Spike stopped and waited for Hugh to catch up. When he looked back, he saw the boy standing still, staring into the girls’ room.

  Spike flapped his arms to get Hugh’s attention. Bloody pervert, what was he playing at?

  When Hugh finally looked over, his face sank. Spike pointed hard at the floor next to him and hissed, “Come here!”

  A sharp nod, Hugh then flapped over to Spike’s side.

  “Why don’t you just tell Elizabeth you like her?” Before Hugh responded, Spike pushed his finger to his lips again and shook his head. “Actually, don’t answer that. Come on, we’ve got to be quiet. Bleach’ll kill us if he knows we’re trying to get out.”

  Hugh opened his mouth to reply again, but Spike silenced him with yet another finger pressed to his lips. What part of ‘shut the hell up’ did Hugh not understand?

  Just about to lead the way out into the night, Spike stepped aside and motioned for Hugh to go first. After watching him out, he checked back one final time, holding his breath to listen for any activity. It sounded like they’d done it. He followed his friend into the darkness.

  The chilly night lifted gooseflesh on Spike’s skin and he hugged himself for warmth. He should have worn more than a T-shirt, but there seemed little point in going back now. Hugh waited for him to pass him again and lead the way.

  The moon shone as a semicircle in the cloudless sky, putting a silver highlight on all the buildings and the open expanse of grass. A low-lying mist hung in the air.

  Vulnerable in the open field, Spike led them at a jog to the back of the dining hall. Not only should he have worn a sweatshirt, but shoes would have been good too, the dewy grass turning the space between his toes cold and slick.

  When they were both in the deep shadow of the large wooden building, Spike checked back the way they’d come from. It still looked clear. Mist formed on his words when he said, “So, what’s going on, mate?”

  Tears returned to Hugh’s eyes and he shook as he said, “I dunno, I just, I dunno, I never thought this moment would come. I thought they’d realise their error and get me back in the labs, but that’s not going to happen.”

  Spike shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

  When Hugh looked down at his clasped hands, Spike saw how violently they shook. Hugh said, “We’re going outside tomorrow!”

  From their current spot, Spike could see the tall wall with the high wooden gates in it. While looking at it, he said, “But we’ve trained for it. We’re ready to go.”

  The muscles in Hugh’s face buckled. “You’re ready to go. I was in the bottom five percent in every physical we did.”

  “I hardly did much better!”

  Hugh raised an eyebrow at Spike.

  “Okay, but my point is I expected to smash it when I came here, and I didn’t. Did you see how I dealt with the diseased for most of training? It was only the hole that sorted me out.”

  “But you’re sorted out now.”

  “And you will be too.”

  “By tomorrow?”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “How many cadets go out to work on the wall thinking that? Do you know how many of us will die over the next five months?”

  “I’m not psychic.”

  “You don’t need to be. You just need to look at the evidence. Fifty percent! I’m not in the top fifty percent of this group.”

  “You’re going to be with us. Bleach is a good team leader. Max and Olga are strong. We have a good chance. Besides, if you have a negative attitude, of course you’re going to die. You’re going to put your teammates at risk too. You need to snap out of it, if not for yourself, then for us.”

  “Did you know Elizabeth’s cousin was a cadet a few years back?”

  “No, she only talked about her siblings.”

  “He survived. He broke the rules and told her what it was like. Apparently he wakes up screaming most nights. He tries to kill himself every few months. He told her she’d be better taking her chances outside the city than going in national service.”

  It took Spike back to that night in the field with Matilda and Artan. They should have escaped when they had the chance. “But she hasn’t done that, has she? She’s made her choice and she has to deal with it.”

  Hugh backed off in th
e face of Spike’s aggression.

  “Look,” Spike said.

  “No, it’s fine. You’re right; there’s no point in dwelling on something we can’t change. Um, Spike, there’s another reason I wanted you to come outside tonight.”

  When a silhouette appeared around the corner, Spike moved back a step. “What’s going on, Hugh?”

  Chapter 47

  “She asked me to get you out here.”

  It took that moment for Spike to see his overtiredness had made him paranoid. “She?”

  When Matilda stepped into the moonlight, the silver glow revealing the hummingbird in her hair, he said, “Tilly?”

  “Were you expecting someone else?”

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone. Even less so you.”

  Before Matilda could reply, Hugh said, “I’m going back to bed.” A nod at Spike. “Thank you for the talk. I’m not sure I feel any better, but thank you anyway. I’m glad I’ve got you around me.”

  Spike watched Hugh walk away. When he’d gone from sight, he shrugged at Matilda. “Well?”

  “Look, I’m sorry, Spike.”

  She stepped close to him, but he showed her his palm to get her to keep her distance. The rejection made her wince, but he needed his space. “You can say what you need to say from there.”

  “I panicked. I felt overwhelmed.”

  “And you think I didn’t?”

  After a deep inhale, her cheeks puffing out when she let her breath go, Matilda stepped another pace towards him. “I felt cross with myself for expecting you to save me. I shouldn’t have done that because it made me blame you when it wasn’t your fault. I’m scared for Artan and I’m scared for the future. But fear doesn’t get me anywhere. I need to have faith.”

  “What, so you finally trust me now?” Spike said.

  Another pace towards him, Matilda held out her hands to Spike. He looked down at them. “It’s not about trusting you. It never should have been. I’ve always trusted you. You have my heart already, Spike. You’ve had it for years now. You know that.”

  “So what’s it about, then?”

  “It’s about having faith. About holding onto the light when the world seems so, so dark.”

  “What do you have faith in?”

  “Us. I have faith that we’ll find a way. No matter what happens, we’ll make it work. It’s my turn to make a promise to you.”

  Spike waited for her to continue.

  “I promise to stand beside you on this journey. There are so many things out of our control, but not that. The future might look bleak, but if I don’t try to find a better way for us and for Artan, then how can I expect anything to change? I should have said this years ago, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, but I’m ready to stand beside you. If you’re prepared to stand with me?”

  Spike reached out and held onto her warm grip. His words caught on the lump in his throat and his eyes burned as his view of his love blurred. “I never went away, Tilly.”

  While biting her bottom lip, Matilda nodded at Spike. “Thank you.”

  They leaned towards one another and kissed. Spike tasted the salt of her tears.

  When they pulled away, Spike’s chest swelled with an energy he’d thought lost. “We’ll find a way.”

  She smiled. “I know.” After letting go of his hands, she stepped back a pace. “Now I’d best go before someone notices I’m not in my bed. Thank you for hearing me out.”

  Spike watched his love walk back around the corner she’d appeared from. Whatever happened starting tomorrow, they’d find a way.

  After he’d given Matilda a minute or two to get clear of the dining hall, he walked back in the direction of his room. The moonlight gave him a clear enough view of the open field for him to see his love. It also showed him the figure in the doorway to his dorm. He stopped and stared at the thickset man. Maybe Bleach stood in the light on purpose. It showed Spike that he watched Matilda.

  When Bleach returned his attention to Spike, he did something Spike hadn’t seen from the stoic man before. He smiled.

  After staring at Spike for a few more seconds, Bleach turned around and walked back into their dorm. Whatever happened tomorrow, Spike now had Matilda beside him. He didn’t need anything else.

  End of Book One.

  Thank you for reading Protectors - Book one of Beyond These Walls.

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  The Alpha Plague - Chapter One

  This is the first chapter of my novel, The Alpha Plague.

  Alice pressed her fork down on her steak. The soft meat leaked a pool of blood that spread over her white plate. It soaked into the potatoes and broccoli.

  A slow heave lifted in her throat, and she gulped several times to combat the excess saliva that gushed into her mouth. She could almost taste the metallic tang of blood. “How was the–” another heave rose up and she cleared it with a cough that echoed through the sparse room. She tried again. “How was the lab today, John?”

  A thick frown furrowed John’s brow. This was his usual response to most questions. Everything was an irritation. Such banal conversations couldn’t hold a flame to his vast intellect. He ejected the word as if giving a reply was below him. “Stressful.”

  The rejection sent a sharp stab through Alice’s stomach. It didn’t matter how many times he knocked her down, she got back up and continued to look for his approval. Fire spread beneath her cheeks and she chewed on her bottom lip.

  John flashed a grin of wonky teeth. It took all of Alice’s strength not to flinch at the ghastly sight. “I must say though, it’s been made a little easier by Wilfred having to make me this meal.”

  A deep breath filled Alice’s sinuses with the smell of disinfectant; the smell she associated with John. Decades immersed in the study of bacteria and disease had driven his level of cleanliness to the point where it bordered on obsessive-compulsive. A frown darkened her view of the room. “What did you say the bet was?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Alice looked into his sharp blue eyes and waited for him to say more.

  He didn’t.

  A look first at the man, dressed in his white lab coat, she then looked around at his white, minimalist penthouse apartment. Everything had a place, and everything was necessary. Beakers and test tubes littered the sides like ornaments. She hadn’t ever seen a photograph on display, despite this being his personal space… no room for sentimentality here.

  Alice squirmed in her seat as the silence swelled.

  John watched her.

  No matter how long she’d known the man for, John always made her itch in her own skin. As if pressured to break the overwhelming void between them, she said, “So, what was the bet about?”

  “An experiment. I predicted the correct result.”

  A machine would have been better company. Alice frowned at him again and sighed.

  “Oh, do pull yourself together, woman,” John said. “You’ve got to learn to stop being so bloody sensitive.”

  Despite his obnoxious behaviour, the man did have redeeming qualities. When he worked, his creativity and pas
sion flowed from him. Science drove him like a heartbeat, but Alice couldn’t excuse him time and again. She couldn’t ignore every time he’d humiliated her during a lecture; every time he’d not let her finish her point; every time he’d selected her to clean the lab at the end of the day while he let his other students leave. “How about you learn to stop being so bloody insensitive?”

  A flick of his bony hand at her and he said, “This is what I mean. It’s these emotional fluctuations that take away your ability to be objective. That’s why men make better scientists.”

  “And terrible companions.”

  He lowered his head and peered over his glasses at her. “We can leave our baggage at the door,” he continued.

  For the second time, her face smouldered. “You left your baggage in the delivery ward, John. Maybe your sociopathic detachment serves you well in the world of science, but it doesn’t equip you to deal with the real world. Without science, you’d be stranded.” Her vision blurred. Great! Tears again. They only strengthened the man’s argument.

  John sighed and shook his head.

  A glance down at her dinner, and Alice prodded the soft steak. Maybe a scalpel would be more appropriate than the wooden-handled knife in her hand. In the bright glare of John’s scrutiny, Alice cut into the steak and lifted a piece to her mouth.

  The soft meat sat like jelly on her tongue. Unable to chew it, she took a deep gulp and tried to swallow. The piece of steak stuck in her throat like it was barbed. Her heart raced as a metallic rush of juices slithered down her oesophagus and clogged her throat.

  John watched on, his expression unchanged. The cold detachment of a scientist rather than the compassion of a human being stared through his beady eyes.