The Alpha Plague (Book 4)

by Michael Robertson

  Larissa frowned at Vicky and her back stiffened. Telling another woman how to manage her son crossed a line, but they didn’t have time for niceties. Flynn would be fine, and Larissa wouldn’t need to be any farther away from him than where she currently stood.

  When Larissa looked over at the boy, her shoulders slumped and she nodded. “Okay.”

  After the ladder had hit the soft ground of the field behind the airport, Vicky took one final deep breath and turned to Rhys. “You ready for this?”

  Pale-faced, Rhys gulped. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  And with that, Vicky climbed down the ladder into the field. The wind ran across the open space and crashed into her as she looked out over it. It seemed free of the diseased …

  For now.

  Chapter Four

  By the time they’d walked about fifty metres into the field, the dew had soaked through Vicky’s trainers, and her feet squelched as she walked. Exposed in the open space, she moved as quietly as she could, gripped her telescopic baton so tight her knuckles hurt, and listened to the sounds of the diseased just metres away.

  A thick tree line separated Vicky and Rhys from the vast horde of diseased that were all being drawn to Flynn’s beat against the container. The stench of decay and human shit thickened the air to the point where Vicky felt like she could taste it. Despite the urge to spit, she resisted. She didn’t need to make any extra noise, and with a heave locked and loaded as it pushed up against her throat, any stimulation in that area of her body and she’d vomit for sure. If hawking up a bit of phlegm didn’t attract the diseased ….

  The town that they’d seen from on top of the containers didn’t look far away. A five-minute walk maybe. Although, with a horde as large as the one in the airport, five minutes away felt like the other side of the planet. With her pulse on overdrive, Vicky scanned the ground she trod. One snapped twig, a sneeze, hell, even a startled animal could alert the masses.

  Although they hadn’t previously agreed on it, the pair resorted to silent communication. When Rhys looked over at her again, Vicky pointed at her eyes and then pointed to the tree line. They needed to keep an eye out. If just one of the diseased saw them, their plan would have to change in an instant. Not that she needed to tell Rhys that; judging by his wide eyes and twitchy head movements, he seemed more than aware of the fact.

  Every roar and scream spiked Vicky’s pulse even though none of the sounds had been directed at them—so far.

  The boom of Flynn’s weight against the top of the shipping container rang out with such a steady beat, Vicky marched in time with it. One, two, three, boom. One, two, three, boom. It felt like a death march.

  As Vicky scanned the hedge line, she saw a part where the trees thinned a little. The farther they got from the containers, the less diseased there were, but she could still see plenty of the fuckers milling about on the other side. Without a word, she grabbed a handful of Rhys’s shirt sleeve and dragged him closer to the tree line.

  When he resisted, Vicky leaned close to him. “The trees are thinning out. We need to get past the gap without being seen.”

  “And getting closer to them will achieve that?”

  “The trees will hide us. The closer we are to them, the shorter distance we have to be exposed for. If we stay out in the field, they’ll be able to see us for much longer when we cross the gap.”

  Although he came with her when she tugged on his sleeve again, Rhys looked far from convinced as the pair of them moved close to the tree line.

  The smell when they’d walked in the field had nothing on the stench that rose as they got closer to the mob. The heave Vicky already had in her throat, forced her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and she coughed slightly to clear it. It had little impact.

  The scrape of feet and moans of agitation stirred on the other side of the hedge. The sound of Flynn’s repetitive beat clearly riled them, even from this distance.

  When they got to within about a metre of the tree line, Vicky led the way along it until they came to the gap. She turned to Rhys. “We have to dart across this space together. We’ll be visible for the shortest time that way. What do you think?”

  “I think there has to be another way.”

  After she’d looked out across the huge open field, Vicky turned back to Rhys and threw her hands up in a shrug. “Well, what is it then?”

  With his mouth hanging open slightly, Rhys looked across the field too. Once he’d turned back to Vicky, he said, “We’ll do it on the count of three, yeah?”

  Vicky nodded.

  “One,” Rhys said.

  “Two.”

  Just as he finished the second count, Vicky saw it, and she also saw that Rhys hadn’t.

  “Three.”

  As he darted out across the gap, Vicky hooked her arm around his neck, dragged him back, and pulled him to the ground with her. Although he squirmed, he thankfully knew not to shout. A second later he fell limp when at least fifteen of the fuckers sprinted past the gap in the hedge, less than a metre away from where they would have been.

  Once they’d passed, Vicky let go of him and stood up again.

  When Rhys got to his feet, he nodded at her. “Thank you. I didn’t see them at all.”

  “I know. Let me count it down, yeah?”

  Rhys flushed red, but his ego didn’t matter one jot at that point. He could lick his wounds when they returned to the containers with food and drink.

  Vicky counted down in her head instead of out loud and reached back to grab Rhys. All the while she watched the gap in the trees. Three, two, one. A tug on Rhys’s sleeve and the pair of them sprinted across the small space, almost silent save for the rustling grass at their feet.

  ***

  With their walk tightened by a path that led from the field, the pair continued in the direction of the town. Penned in by a vast building on one side—which looked like a hanger for private jets—and the thick tree line of the airport on the other, Vicky sped up in the direction of what looked like a road at the end. Flynn’s banging accompanied them as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

  “Were it not for that noise,” Vicky said in a whisper, “I don’t think we would have made it across that gap.”

  After he’d looked back in the direction of the containers, Rhys turned back to Vicky and chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing, though.”

  “You wanted us to be seen?”

  “Of course not. I just don’t like the idea of an entire fucking town of diseased staring up at my son.”

  He had a point, and Vicky nodded. “They can’t get to him, though. And when we come back, we can hide out for a while in one of the containers. They’ll all go away soon enough. They seem to lose interest pretty quickly.”

  The pair walked in silence for a few seconds before Rhys said, “Um …”

  Vicky looked at him.

  “That, um … that kiss.”

  “It’s all right, Rhys. You—”

  “No, I do need to talk about it.”

  Because she walked ahead of him, Vicky faced the direction they were travelling in and shook her head as he spoke.

  “Well, things are different now than they were. With everything that’s happened, I think I should try to stay single for Flynn’s sake.”

  The words stung and it caught Vicky off guard. Why did she give a fuck about Rhys and his rejection? Maybe it was more down to what they’d been through than anything. “Look, Rhys, it was a kiss. Get over yourself, yeah? Fucking hell, mate, no need to go overboard.” Heat flushed her cheeks, so she continued to stare straight ahead.

  ***

  The end of the alley marked the end of the airport’s boundaries. The space opened up onto a two-lane road with a petrol station no more than fifty metres away, and another field directly opposite them. A quick scan of the area and it seemed clear.

  When Rhys stepped out next to her, Vicky nodded diagonally across the road at the petrol station. “I think w
e’ve found what we’re looking for.”

  Although distant, the boom of Flynn’s weight continued to call out. Too much longer and some of the diseased from the town may appear, so Vicky grabbed Rhys’s sleeve again and led him across the road at a jog.

  The hard concrete and the cover of the petrol station’s roof amplified the pair’s footsteps as they ran up to the glass front door. As she moved, Vicky raised her telescopic baton and kept her eyes peeled for signs of the diseased.

  At the door to the petrol station, Vicky looked through the window. It had to be reinforced glass and would take more than one whack with the baton to get through it. They’d made it that far. If they got in and out, maybe the noise wouldn’t matter. As Vicky stared into the shop, she rocked on the balls of her feet. Two nights without sleep and her body had turned to lead. Just before she attacked the glass with her first blow, Vicky pushed the door. It swung open. She laughed, and when she spoke, her words dragged from tiredness. “Of course the place would be open. Why would everywhere be abandoned and locked up? The disease hit at lunch time.”

  “Huh?” Rhys said. When he glanced up, his expression hung loose. He looked as tired as Vicky felt.

  “Don’t worry,” Vicky said and stepped into the petrol station.

  After Rhys had followed her in, Vicky closed the door and found a twist lock on the inside. A quick turn and the bolt made a snap as it slid into the frame.

  Vicky's heart damn near exploded when she looked up to see a diseased sprint across the forecourt. It had come from nowhere. Vicky moved back several steps before it collided with the glass door with a loud bang!

  The door held.

  Out of breath from panic, Vicky watched the creature press its face to the glass and smear blood all over it as it bit and snapped its teeth at her. It hadn’t just appeared … they’d both missed it. Why didn’t they wait until they felt more rested to come out and get supplies?

  When she turned to see Rhys had frozen as he stared at the creature, Vicky laughed and rubbed her sore eyes. “At least the door held.”

  Rhys nodded, his face slack and his vision glazed as he focused on the raging diseased just metres away.

  “There must be a back exit,” Vicky said. “Let’s get a couple of bags of supplies, and then we’ll find it.”

  ***

  A quick check behind the sales counter and Vicky found a stack of carrier bags. She double bagged two, gave one of them to Rhys, and kept one for herself. Within a few minutes, they’d filled their respective bags. They’d taken as many fresh items as they could. Best to use that food before it all went off.

  With a tacky throat from all the running, Vicky sipped on a fresh water. The cool liquid quenched her thirst, although it couldn't dispel the exhausted fog in her mind. Despite her urge to swig the entire bottle, she dropped it back in her bag after just a couple of sips. A stomach full of water wouldn’t help her run back to the airport one fucking bit.

  Vicky nodded at the door in the wall behind the till. “You wanna check in there and see if there’s a way out? It looks like it leads to a storeroom.” She nodded at the front door with the diseased pressed up against it. “I’ll keep this fucker entertained.”

  As seemed to happen with the diseased, once one picked up the scent of something, it didn’t take long for their mates to join in. When Vicky caught movement on the other side of the road, she looked past the diseased directly in front of her to see a crowd of about ten of the horrible fuckers.

  Each one ran with their clumsy gait as they crossed the forecourt and crashed against the door one after the other. Logic told Vicky the door would hold, but that didn’t stop her flinching with every collision, her legs so weak she nearly fell to the ground a couple of times.

  With the fuckers pressed up against the glass, wide bloody eyes and dark drooling mouths, Vicky glanced to see Rhys open the door to the storeroom. When one of the diseased also looked his way, Vicky punched her side of the glass so hard it stung her fist. The mob on the other side roared in response.

  “I’m here, you dumb fucks!” Vicky banged her fist against the reinforced glass again. “Look at me, you stupid bastards.”

  Several more diseased ran into the forecourt and pushed the existing mob harder against the door. Despite the sounds of chaos and fury directed at her, Vicky had more of her attention on the door Rhys had disappeared through than the one in front of her. They hadn’t checked in there before she sent him in. They hadn’t fucking checked!

  Vicky put her bag down, held her baton out in front of her and stepped toward the storeroom.

  When Rhys poked his head out, she nearly swung for him, her heart in her mouth as she said, “Fuck! I thought you were one of them.”

  “Thanks!”

  A shake of her head and Vicky nodded behind him. “How’s it look in there? You find a way out?”

  Rhys nodded. “Yep. There’s a door that leads out the back of the place, and I couldn’t see any diseased when I checked out there.”

  “Okay,” Vicky said. “You go and open the back door, and I’ll make sure this lot stay here. I’ll be right out after you.”

  Rhys paused for a second as he looked at Vicky, but then turned around and headed back to the storeroom.

  The moment he vanished from sight, Vicky hurried back over to the front door and shook it. She watched the frenzy spark outside as she picked up her carrier bag. Wide mouths issued sharp hisses. Bleeding eyes remained fixed on her and glistened; they were active, yet strangely detached in their dead glare. Several more diseased joined the pack, which totalled about twenty by now. One last bang on the door and Vicky flipped them the bird. “Fuck you, you fucking pieces of shit.” She then made for the storeroom.

  Although dark in the small room, Rhys had the back door open, allowing the space to be lit up enough for Vicky to move through the maze of shelves as she headed for the light. She knew Rhys and knew she could trust him, but if he felt anywhere near as tired as she did, should she trust him at that moment? What if he’d made a mistake? What if he hadn’t seen that one diseased that would end her?

  When she stepped out the back of the petrol station, Vicky scanned around. It stood empty and the sounds of the diseased around the front of the building called out as they still clearly tried to get in through the front door.

  ***

  The pair took the long way back through a field that ran parallel with the road to avoid Vicky’s fan club in the petrol station’s forecourt. Their bags rustled as they walked. When they came out on the road, Vicky scanned both ways before she led them across to the alleyway that ran alongside the airport.

  Vicky watched Rhys climb over the stile ahead of her. Halfway over herself, and a tickle burned in her nose. With watering eyes, panic washed over her. Before she could control it, she sneezed so hard her entire body bucked, and the sound of it rang through the still air. The collection of diseased in the petrol station’s forecourt turned to her as one. Ice ran through her veins, and she looked at Rhys. “Run. Run now!”

  Chapter Five

  Ten years later.

  The boom of the weight against the shipping container provided some comfort for Vicky as she pushed on, her body tired from years of supply runs. With Rhys behind her, the pair sprinted up the alleyway toward the field at the back of the airport. Several diseased chased after them, their breaths heavy and their feet clumsy against the ground. Although their numbers had thinned, a considerable amount of the fuckers had learned how to hunt and survive. They ate berries and animals. Surprisingly composed when it came to hunting, they still lost their minds in the presence of humans. Consumed with a desire to get at Vicky and Rhys, they moved as fast now as they had ten years previously.

  When she got close to the stile that led out into the field beside the airport, Vicky jumped up onto the step and hurdled the fence. She’d meant to knock the barrier down some time ago, but something more important always came up.

  The amount of diseased may have dwindle
d over time, but a large crowd of them still gathered at the airport on the other side the tree line. They smelled worse than ever. They may have learned how to hunt and survive, but none of the fuckers knew how to wipe their arse. Every single one of them stood covered in piss and shit.

  Vicky estimated it to be May. The sun shone brightly in the sky, and with the winter behind them, they’d entered a time of growth. It had been a long few months, and Vicky now had to tie her trousers extra tight to prevent them from falling. But now the first signs of vegetables grew in their patch by the containers, and she could feel her strength returning.

  Without breaking stride, Vicky gasped for breath as she looked over her shoulder at the diseased on their tail. A quick count and it looked like six, maybe seven of them. The fuckers ran as fast as ever. It seemed like Vicky and Rhys would lose their speed before the diseased did. The original plan of waiting for them to die out had failed. At some point, the tables would turn, and the diseased would have the edge.

  Vicky looked at Rhys. Red-faced and with his mouth open wide, he gasped for breath and nodded at her. They’d done this a thousand times; they could do it again. It didn’t matter that the diseased had gotten closer to them today than they had in a long time; they could do it.

  With the swish of the long grass as it tugged on their feet, and the fury of the diseased both behind them and on the other side of the fence, Vicky clenched her jaw and pushed on.

  A small rucksack on her back, it had gotten lighter every time they returned from a supply run. Back in the day, she’d be able to pack the thing to busting and would get bruises from running with it. The diseased may have been good at catching dogs, rabbits, squirrels … hell, they even knew what berries to eat, but the fuckers couldn’t open a tin or a bottle, so the world still had something to offer. Sure, most of it had gone off, but it still tasted okay—well, some of it did at least. The water remained drinkable, and it rained enough for them to catch the extra they needed.