The Alpha Plague (Book 4)

by Michael Robertson

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  In one fluid movement, Vicky jumped back, grabbed Flynn by his ankles, and yanked him backwards. The cage shook as she pulled with all of her might and Flynn’s arm dragged through the bars.

  The second Vicky had pulled Flynn away, the girl crashed down where his hand had been. She landed face first, her misplaced bite connecting with the hard floor rather than the back of Flynn’s hand. The thud of her fall shook the shutter, and she fell limp as she crashed into it with a clatter.

  When they heard the cries of more diseased, their shrill call echoing throughout the abandoned mall, Vicky and Flynn retreated into the shadows at the back of the shop.

  Once cloaked in darkness, Vicky breathed heavily from the adrenaline rush and leaned so close to Flynn she could smell the dirt on him. “Did you get it?”

  He shook in response.

  “I can’t see what you’re doing with your head.”

  When Vicky felt his hand touch hers, she opened her grip. Flynn pressed the small metal object into her palm.

  Vicky put her arm around him and pulled him close. “Well done, mate. Well done.”

  A second later, three more diseased ran up to the shop’s shutters. They looked down at the unconscious girl before they peered into the space beyond. Although Vicky knew they couldn’t see her, she couldn’t control her frantic pulse. To be the focus of the things’ bloody eyes when they stood just metres away triggered something in her—a natural shot of adrenaline that told her to get the fuck out. Most of the time that’s exactly what she’d do. But since they’d been locked in the shop, they’d have to grimace and bear it.

  ***

  At a guess, Vicky would have said two hours had passed since they’d seen a diseased outside the shop. She patted Flynn’s shoulder as she stood up. “At some point, we’re going to have to move on, mate.”

  Flynn followed Vicky’s lead and got to his feet. Since he’d put the key in her hand, Vicky had gripped it so tightly her palm sweated. However, as they got closer to the shutter, she handed it back to Flynn. “I think you’ve proven you have a much steadier hand than I do.”

  Visibly inflated by the comment, Flynn took the key from Vicky and nodded at her.

  Vicky kept lookout again as Flynn reached through the bars and undid the padlock. He did it with ease. If she’d have just let him do it in the first place, then maybe they’d be long gone by now.

  Together they slowly lifted the shutter. Although it made some sound, the diseased would have to be close to hear it.

  Once outside the shop in the huge open space of the shopping mall, Vicky looked around and drew a dry gulp. Smoke hung in the air still from the burned man above the fire pit. It would have been best to avoid the hideous sight completely, but when Vicky saw her telescopic baton and Flynn’s baseball bat near the burned man, her shoulders slumped. They couldn’t leave their weapons behind.

  “Don’t look, Flynn,” Vicky said as she walked over and retrieved both her baton and Flynn’s bat. She also found the catapult, a spear, and a large machete. Although she’d told Flynn not to look, she couldn’t help but stare at the burned man on the spit herself. Black and hard like an old lump of wood, he still retained his human form. Maybe the man would turn to ash at some point and join the rest of it in the fire pit. Vicky screwed her nose up at the charred stench and pulled on Flynn’s arm. “Come on, mate, let’s go.”

  The boy had been frozen to the spot as he stared at the burned corpse, and Vicky’s tug barely registered with him. When she looked closer, she saw where he had his attention. The remains of his rucksack smouldered in the fire pit. Another tug, more gentle this time, and Flynn came with her.

  They walked away from the mall and the fire pit with their weapons raised and ready to use.

  ***

  When Vicky stepped out of the front of the mall, the city awash with the green of nature, and the sun warm on her face, she drew a deep breath of the fresh air. It went some way to clearing the stench of the burned man, although she’d smell the memory of him for a lifetime.

  After she’d patted Flynn on the back, she said, “Let’s get the fuck out of this horrible town.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  A few days without food sapped Vicky’s energy, but she pushed on. Lighter because of no rucksack, she negotiated the overgrown streets with Flynn by her side. Were it not for him, they’d still be in that bloody shop as they contemplated starving to death.

  When they reached a high spot in the town, Vicky placed her hands on her hips and drew deep breaths as she looked out at the road that led away from the place. “Not long now and we’ll be out of here. I can’t wait to get to Home.”

  After he’d wrung his hands for a few seconds, Flynn said, “What do you think Amelia meant when she said that Home don’t have the same tastes as them?”

  “That they don’t eat people, mate. Diseased or otherwise.” For all the maturity the boy had shown, his childish naivety still shone through.

  “Ever since I heard the first broadcast from the place,” Vicky said, “I’ve had a good feeling about it. Life will change for the better when we get there.”

  Flynn stared at her and gulped, so Vicky put an arm around his shoulders. “And if it doesn’t, then we’ll find somewhere else.”

  ***

  As they ran down the other side of the large hill, sweat rolled down Vicky’s face. The road—cracked and sprouting grass—ran a heavy jolt through her body every time one of her feet hit the ground.

  A more modern part of the large town, Vicky looked at the houses on either side of the road. They’d clearly been thrown up quickly and with little thought about appearance. They looked like they’d all been designed from the same plans. Nature had taken a bigger bite from them than it had some of the older houses. Vines and weeds blew out what seemed to be cheap walls, and many of them had huge holes in the sides of them.

  Most houses had a driveway with one car or another. It seemed like every other house had a rusty old four-by-four. Vicky smiled as she passed the status symbols. The ridiculous cars meant fuck all now.

  ***

  “Vicky,” Flynn said, and Vicky stopped running. Something about his hushed tone stopped her dead.

  “Look.”

  A fox stood at the side of the road with its snout in a mound of earth.

  Vicky held her hand out, and Flynn passed her the catapult. Not the time for training, they needed to eat and couldn’t afford for him to miss.

  With the weapon in her grip, Vicky loaded it with one of the round stones she kept in her pocket, pulled it back, and released it.

  As always, the stone nailed the skinny canid, and it fell on its side.

  Flynn rushed past Vicky with his bat raised and skulled the fox before it could recover. When he lifted it up, the creature hung limp from his grip.

  The town seemed deserted, so Vicky pointed at one of the cheap houses on the side of the road. “I know we said we’d get out of this place, but I think we should eat first.”

  With eyes like saucers, Flynn looked at the fox like he’d eat it raw.

  Vicky laughed. “I’ll take that as you agreeing with me then, shall I?”

  ***

  After Vicky and Flynn had cooked and eaten the fox, they returned to the open road. Far from a pleasant experience, the fox tasted rich and gamey, and they had to eat it so quickly it gave Vicky indigestion. But nothing had bothered them while they’d eaten, so the pair moved off again at a fast walk.

  Not a lot mattered now other than survival, so Vicky put her attention on the shadows that surrounded them. Narrow alleyways, dark windows in the houses, the occasional newsagents—hell, even the ridiculous cars could have something lurking inside of them. They’d been lucky to eat without any interruption. That luck had to run out at some point.

  At the bottom of the hill, Vicky finally saw the way out of the town. The exit road stretched wide enough for three lanes on either side, and fields flanked it.

>   ***

  Once they’d left the town, Vicky paused to catch her breath. They’d only moved at a fast walk, but she still felt exhausted. The recently eaten fox sat as a lump in her stomach. As she looked at the place they’d left behind, she said, “More like a city, really.”

  Flynn glanced back at the place but didn’t reply. And why would he? She’d had most of the conversation in her head. “The town’s more like a city than a town,” she explained, before adding, “I thought we were going to get jumped by something on the way out.”

  “We were lucky we didn’t,” Flynn replied. “We really tempted fate by stopping to eat.”

  Before Vicky could say anything else, Flynn drew a deep breath that lifted his chest and screwed his face up at her. “I’m not as useless as you think, you know?”

  Vicky reached out and touched his arm. “Where’s this come from?” She walked off and pulled him with her so they could get away from the town.

  “I wanted to say something earlier,” Flynn said, “but we had too much going on in the town.”

  “Besides,” Vicky said, “who said you were useless?”

  “You didn’t need to say it. You’ve treated me like a fucking child ever since Mum and Dad died. You were the one who said I should be allowed to grow up, but you’re worse than they were. I only got us out of that shop because you couldn’t prevent me from taking action.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Flynn.”

  “Don’t be sorry, just treat me like an adult.” When he looked down at the ground, his bottom lip poked out. “I’m not useless.”

  Other than the wind through the long grass and the scuff of their feet over the hard ground, silence hung between the pair. When Vicky drew a breath to speak, Flynn looked across at her and squinted because of the sun.

  “I struggle to trust anyone to do anything,” Vicky said. “It’s not because I think you’re a child. It’s just”—she sighed— “well, I had a horrible home life after my dad died and was treated like an arsehole by my mum and brothers for years. I then met Brendan, who, as you know, is the reason the world’s fucked. I dunno, I’ve kind of lost my faith in people. I figure that if I do it all on my own, then I don’t have to rely on anyone else.”

  When she looked back at Flynn, she saw him continue to watch her as he walked, but he didn’t speak.

  “All I can do,” she continued, “is promise you that I’ll treat you like an adult. To do what I tried to force your parents to do.”

  After a curt nod, Flynn forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  Although Vicky glanced behind several times as they walked, she didn’t see any diseased burst from the large town.

  The grass on either side of the road stood at about chest height on Vicky, and the large tufts that sprouted through the asphalt dragged on her feet. At different points, grass covered the entire road.

  “They burned our bags,” Flynn finally said.

  “Huh?”

  “Our rucksacks …”

  “Yeah.”

  “I had a few bits left to remind me of Mum and Dad in there.”

  “I’m sorry, mate,” Vicky said because she had nothing else. “I’m truly sorry.”

  Flynn shrugged and dragged his feet as they continued to walk away from the hellish labyrinth of a town.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “What’s that?” Flynn said as they ran.

  When Vicky looked to where Flynn had pointed, she just made it out. A white baton of wood—or at least partly white; most of the paint had blistered and come away from it. It poked just above the long grass.

  The pair looked at one another before they left the road and ran toward it.

  When they got close enough, they saw the sign clearly. At least three feet deep and a couple of feet wide, instructions had been painted on it in red — YOU’RE JUST ONE HOUR’S WALK FROM HOME. ALL ARE WELCOME. WE HAVE FOOD AND SHELTER. ALL WE ASK IS THAT YOU SHARE OUR COMMON GOAL OF DEFEATING THE DISEASED. AND THAT YOU COME WITH PEACE IN YOUR HEART. IF YOU WANT THAT, WE WILL ACCEPT YOUR HELP IN ANY WAY YOU CAN GIVE IT.

  After she’d read the words, Vicky looked at Flynn, his mouth moving slightly as he finished reading the sign too.

  For the first time in days, Vicky saw hope on the boy’s face, and the child she’d help raise returned with his excitement when he said, “We’re not far now.”

  “I know. Now we’re out of that city, we have the hard bit behind us. We have hours of daylight left and only need an hour to get there. I knew we’d find it; I just knew it. I can’t wait to sleep in a—”

  Vicky didn’t finish her sentence. The shrill cry of what sounded like hundreds of diseased, and the stampede of their heavy feet, cut her short. When she looked in the direction of the sound, her heart sank. It came from the direction they needed to travel in to get to Home.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  An old brick farmhouse poked out of the field about five hundred metres away. Tall and red, it seemingly stood as deserted as the world around it. Vicky pointed at it. “There has to be somewhere we can hide in there. Come on, let’s go.” She grabbed Flynn’s hand and pulled him through the long grass behind her.

  The deeper they ran into the field, the longer the grass had grown. Blades whipped against Vicky’s face and dragged at her momentum as she tore a path that clearly hadn’t been trodden for at least a decade.

  Flynn didn’t need to be led, so she let go of him and used her hands to push the strong grass aside. The thick stalks left a sting on her palms from where they ripped hundreds of tiny cuts across them.

  The screams of the diseased persisted on their heels. Roars and moans followed them, showing the nasty fuckers had clearly picked up their scent.

  As they neared the farmhouse, the grass had grown so long Vicky couldn’t see their pursuers. She only heard the swish of them drawing closer. By the sound of it, they were gaining on them rapidly.

  When Vicky looked up at the farmhouse, the strength drained from her legs. They wouldn’t get there before the diseased caught up to them. She looked at Flynn, and her heart ached. The boy trusted her with his life. She’d not steered him wrong yet, but … then she saw it.

  Vicky’s feet twisted and turned on the uneven ground and the long grass whooshed in her ears. A glance at Flynn to make sure he could hear her, and she shouted, “Follow me.”

  Clearly gassed from the run, Flynn nodded at Vicky but said nothing.

  Vicky changed course. Had they not passed so close by then she wouldn’t have seen it. A raggedy white shirt on the end of a tall pole, it poked out above the long grass and swayed in the wind. It stood next to the door of what looked like an old storm shelter. A pit in the ground, it had a gate across the front of it. They had no other choice. It had to be the best option. Hopefully, they could get in.

  When she caught up to the shelter, Vicky yanked on the black metal gate, and it swung open. The entranceway had been made from concrete, and the gate had a bolt on it. It seemed secure.

  As she held the gate open for Flynn, she looked back at the swaying grass. The fuckers wouldn’t be able to see them, yet the movement homed in on them anyway. Whatever drove them—scent, sight, or sound—when they focused their attention, it became pretty fucking difficult to lose them.

  As Vicky ducked down into the pit after the boy, she pulled the gate with her. The hinges creaked, and the gate crashed against its concrete frame. The handle of the large bolt hung down, which she slotted home before she backed away just in time for the first of the diseased to reach them. The force with which the lead girl collided with the cage shot her rancid scent into the space and a couple of her teeth flew from her mouth and tinkled on the concrete steps that led down into the hole.

  Vicky backed down into the den and watched the girl. The grotesque creature bit at the air between them as she hissed and snarled.

  The concrete ended about seven steps down, and it became just a hole in the ground. The reek of damp earth overpowered even the dise
ased’s stench. Just about big enough for her and Flynn, Vicky fought for breath as she looked first at the boy, and then back up at the gathered horde. “At least they can’t get to us down here.”

  “No,” Flynn replied, “but they can see us. If they can see us, that means they ain’t going anywhere fast.”

  As Vicky looked up at the gate, she sighed. What little light the small hole let in, got blocked out more and more as the diseased crowded around it. With her world falling into darkness, Vicky sat down, rested her head against one of the muddy walls, and sighed again.

  Chapter Forty

  It had only been about ten minutes, but it felt like hours had passed. The moisture from the ground had soaked up through Vicky’s trousers and knickers, and the pair hadn’t spoken since she’d sat down. They stared up the concrete steps at the diseased for the entire time. A jam of faces filled the space, and all of them focused down on her and Flynn.

  “What the fuck is this place?” Flynn finally said, his voice deadened by the soft and damp walls.

  “I don’t know; I really don’t.” With the time down there, Vicky’s eyes had adjusted to the light a little, and she could see better than before. Although crude, she noticed a shelf space had been carved into the wall. It held a book, which she reached out for and grabbed.

  A journal of some sort, she couldn’t be sure in the poor light, so she shifted around and put her back to the stairs. The gaps in the diseased crush up above let through just enough light for her to read by.

  “What is it?” Flynn asked.

  “It’s a diary.” Vicky flicked through the mostly blank book. “Or at least, the start of one.”