The Alpha Plague - Books 1 - 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Action Thriller

by Michael Robertson

  The man had jumped to life, kicked one of the diseased to the ground, and introduced the other one to the business end of his axe.

  The heavy swing ended in a wet crack, which split the diseased’s head in two. It parted it down the middle and sprayed blood up in a jet from its crown. The other one got up and ran at him again. He threw a sideways swing at it and the axe’s head dug into the creature’s neck.

  The second one fell and its head flopped limp. Despite the dark-red axe wound, it kicked and spun on the spot, driven by some semblance of consciousness that spurred it on to reach out at the man.

  The man’s trainers squeaked as he moved across the rapidly dampening floor, and he delivered another blow to the diseased’s head. A wet crack, similar to moments before, echoed through the small alcove at the front of Building Thirteen.

  Then silence.

  A second later, the man stood up straight and grinned. “That put the fucker’s lights out.”

  The spilled blood released the rotten smell of the diseased and hot saliva rained down the back of Rhys’ throat. He’d never get used to the reek, especially from creatures that shouldn’t have started to decompose yet. “If I’d have known you were this competent,” he said, “I would have left you to it.”

  The man stared, his penetrating blue eyes cold and intense.

  A chill ran through Rhys as they stood in silence.

  A distant sound of people cut through the tension. Rhys turned around but couldn’t see them. Banging and shouting, they persisted. When he looked back at the man, the man pointed a thumb at the building they stood in front of.

  “It’s the people trapped in there,” he said, his voice low.

  The metal shutters muted their desperation. If Rhys stepped any farther away, he wouldn’t have been able to hear them at all. “How many people across the city are crying for help right now do you think?”

  The man shrugged. “Probably all of them. I’m sure they don’t realise no one can hear them.” He shook his head and snorted a humourless laugh. “If only they knew what was out here; they wouldn’t be so fucking keen to leave.” He thrust a hand at Rhys. “Oscar.”

  Rhys took the offered hand and winced at the death grip he received. Even the man’s hands had thick muscles running through them. “Rhys.”

  Despite Oscar’s heavy scrutiny, Rhys couldn’t ignore the people in the building. When he tuned into it, his guts churned and what little strength he had in his body drained from him. People cried and shouted. People banged. It was like listening to people trapped below the deck of a sinking ship. All the commotion in the world couldn’t free them, yet they persisted.

  A shake of his head and Rhys shut them out. When he looked at Oscar, he said, “We need to get out of here. They may be muted in that building, but if the crowd by the bridge hears them, we’re fucked.”

  Oscar didn’t reply, but when Rhys ran down the alleyway next to the building, he heard the sound of Oscar’s footsteps as he followed behind him.

  Chapter 3

  By the time Rhys reached the end of the alley, a stitch cut into his side and drove a sharp pain up beneath his ribs. He slowed down and gripped his ample love handles. He breathed so heavily he couldn’t get his words out.

  When he looked up at Oscar, the taller and fitter man regarded him with a sneer as if just being in his company was an affront to him. However, he wore a grimace as if he too were in some kind of pain. Rhys looked him up and down but couldn’t place where his discomfort came from.

  Rhys dropped his hands to his knees, leaned forward, and spoke at the floor. “All right, I’m not very fit, okay?”

  When he looked back up again, he saw Oscar roll his eyes and shake his head.

  “You chose to follow me. I didn’t ask you to come.”

  The same cold penetrative stare from just a few minutes ago regarded Rhys, but Oscar still said nothing.

  Sweat stood out on Rhys’ brow. After he’d wiped it away with the back of his hand, he stood up straight and poked his head from the alley. A look up and down the street and he saw the poles that had shot up along the middle of each road remained. They ran a militant line that prevented any vehicle wider than about a metre from travelling through the city.

  From where he stood, Rhys could see the Draw Bridge underground station. The memory of the rats returned—the writhing black carpet, the smell of the dirty animals, their repeated bashing into his feet… A shiver snapped through him.

  The dark road surface and poor light meant Rhys missed it on his first glance, but when he did a second sweep of the road, he saw the huge pool of blood no more than a metre away from him. About three metres in diameter, the dark liquid had a slight reflective quality to it.

  When Oscar stepped up next to him and peered out of the alleyway, Rhys nodded at the asphalt. “It looks like they left someone to bleed out.”

  “If they’d have left them to bleed out, there’d be a body. It looks like they attacked a group of people here.” At first, Oscar screwed his face up, and then pushed the back of his hand to his nose. “It fucking stinks.”

  The entire city stank. Rhys must have gotten used to it already, but now that Oscar had mentioned it, the strong acidic tang of rot returned to his consciousness and snaked into his sinuses.

  “So are you ready to move on yet?” Oscar said.

  A few more deep breaths and Rhys shook his head. “I wish I’d never saved you now.”

  “You didn’t save me, son.”

  Son? They were about the same age. Rhys didn’t respond; instead, he looked at the fitter man. The way he stood grabbed Rhys’ attention; something seemed odd about him. He raised one of his legs slightly, but why? Maybe he just stood that way. Rhys then looked at the two bottles that hung from his belt. Both had a rag in the top. “What are you, some kind of corny action hero, or something?”

  “They’re Molotov cocktails,” Oscar said. “Petrol bombs.”

  “I know what Molotov cocktails are.”

  “You never know when they might come in handy.”

  Not only did Oscar have the ability to blow up a small vehicle, but his axe could clearly do some serious damage. By comparison, a baseball bat seemed pretty pathetic. Sure, Rhys had a good swing on him, but the way Oscar had killed those diseased earlier… Blood still dripped from the axe’s sharp blade.

  “What are you doing here, Oscar? Why are you heading into the city rather than away from it?”

  “I could ask you the same, you know?”

  “And so what if you did? I don’t have anything to hide.”

  Silence.

  “The mother of my child and my best friend are both trapped in those towers. I need to get to The Alpha Tower so I can deactivate the city’s defence system and let the people out.” He pulled Vicky’s security card from his pocket and showed it to Oscar. Rhys noticed the larger man’s eyes widen before he added, “This will get me into the tower, but I need to find a card with a higher clearance level to override the defence system once I’m in there. I’m hoping there’ll be one inside. When I release the shutters, shit’s going to get real.”

  Rhys cringed at his own words. He never said ‘shit’s going to get real’. Besides, if shit were to get real, Oscar had less to worry about than he did. Oscar looked like a man who could cope with real shit.

  Clearly lost in thought, a deep frown on his face, Oscar said, “The mother of your child? So your wife? Your partner?”

  “We’re not together anymore.”

  “Why are you saving her then?”

  Irritation spiked inside of Rhys; of all the things Oscar could ask… A deep breath, and the rush of rot smothered him again. “I’m doing it for my son.” Rhys removed his photo of Flynn from his top pocket and showed it to Oscar.

  The smile looked odd on Oscar’s otherwise stern face, like he’d done it for effect rather than because he actually gave a shit. The guy obviously didn’t have children.

  “He lives with his mum most of the time,
so he’s used to having her around. He’s only six and he wants me to make sure she’s okay. I need to do everything within my power to make that happen. If nothing else, I want to be able to look him in the eyes and say I tried to save her. I want him to know I did everything I could.”

  A shrill scream shot through the city. Rhys’ breath caught in his throat and he froze as he waited for the next sound.

  Another cry, farther away this time.

  When Rhys looked at Oscar, the taller man’s blue eyes showed no hint of fear. He poked his head out of the alleyway again. When he pulled back in, he said, “I need to save someone too.”

  The icy coolness of the man made him impossible to read. Just being around him sent a deep unease through Rhys, and he shifted on the spot as if uncomfortable in his own skin.

  “It’s my younger brother,” Oscar said. “He has Down’s.”

  The words were a gut punch and Rhys shook his head. What an arsehole for doubting him. “I’m sorry to hear that, man.”

  “You’re sorry that he has Down’s syndrome?”

  “No, well yes, but I’m sorry that he’s trapped. You must be really worried.”

  Oscar shrugged. “I trained a lot with him. He’s probably better equipped to deal with this than most of the other people on this godforsaken island.” Oscar looked at Rhys’ portly stomach before he made eye contact with him again. “He works in Tower Eighteen. He organises the internal mail. It’s a bit of an outdated job, and they probably don’t need him there at all. He spends most of his days emptying the bins. It really fucks me off because he may have Down’s, but he’s not fucking useless. He’s probably more capable than half of the people he works with. I wish they’d give him a try at doing a better job. They don’t need to create a position for him. He doesn’t need their charity.”

  The glaze of tears reflected off Oscar’s eyes and he cleared his throat. “He’s the most wonderful and kindest person I know. I’d die for him.”

  “You may have to.” The words left Rhys’ mouth before he’d thought about them. When Oscar looked at him with a hard frown, Rhys’ face burned and he dropped his eyes to the Superman Lego watch on his wrist. “Whatever happens, we need to be off this island in less than five hours.”

  A tilt of his head to one side and Oscar said, “Why’s that?”

  Rhys’ breath had levelled out so he stood up straighter and filled his lungs with the stench around him. He coughed several times and came close to heaving before he said, “This place is set to blow. There’s a countdown before the entire city incinerates. There’s less than five hours left.”

  A deeper frown crushed Oscar’s face and he ran a hand through his short black hair. “Fuck! We don’t have much time. I’m coming with you to The Alpha Tower. If you have a way to get inside, then you’ll need me. Without me, you won’t last more than five minutes.”

  The pros far outweighed the cons. The man could fight. In fact, the man was a machine. “I don’t want you getting shitty about my fitness though. I wish I was fitter, but there’s nothing I can do about it now, so the last thing I need is you bitching about it, okay? I’d rather go on my own, if that’s the case.”

  Oscar’s jaw tightened and his eyes pinched at the sides. Crow’s feet spread round to his temples. “So if you’re doing this for your boy, where is he now?”

  “Did you hear the car horn when you were fighting the diseased off?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That was my friend. I asked her to make some noise so the diseased by the drawbridge would remain there. The last thing we needed was that mob seeing you. If they’d have run over, there’s no way I would have been able to get into the city.”

  “Are you trying to give me a bollocking or is there more to this story?”

  “No… sorry, yes there’s more—the person in the car has him with her right now. She agreed to stay outside the city while I came in.”

  “She sounds like the sensible one.” Before Rhys could respond, Oscar added, “She must be a good friend to trust her with the life of your child.”

  Anxiety gnawed at Rhys’ gut, but he nodded through it. The sound of his own uncertainty shook his words. “Yeah, she is.”

  “You’ve known her long?”

  A slight pause and Rhys looked up at Oscar. His voice cracked when he said, “A day. I’d never met her before all of this shit happened, but she saved me. She kept me alive when everyone else was panicking and she’s the reason I managed to rescue my son in the first place.”

  Silence.

  “Just say it,” Rhys said.

  “It’s awfully trusting of you.”

  “Look, in the past twelve or so hours, she’s done more for me than any other person in my entire life. I trust her one hundred percent.”

  Again, Oscar remained silent.

  Rhys ground his jaw and looked the man up and down. He trusted Vicky a damn sight more than he trusted Oscar.

  Chapter 4

  Rhys walked up the middle of the road and hung his right hand down so he could hit each pole as he passed them. The contact made a quiet ting that no one any farther away than Oscar could hear. A gentle tingle remained on his fingertips after each tap.

  The sound also broke through the background hum of the infected. Surrounded on all sides by the distant groans and moans of the diseased, Rhys needed to distract himself in some way. With panic balled in his chest, the slight sound and sensation kept it at bay.

  When a scream, louder than the others, shot out of an alleyway to their right, Rhys dropped into a defensive crouch and raised his bat. Oscar did the same but the quick movement made him stumble. He remained on his feet but held his right leg like it hurt. With his axe raised, he stared in the direction of the sound.

  As Rhys watched the alleyway, he gulped. It did nothing to rehydrate his throat or clear the stale taste in his mouth. Very little drink and a diet of sugary snacks had left a funky layer of fur on his tongue.

  After a minute or so, Oscar, who had relaxed his right leg again, spoke in a whisper. “They’re not coming. Let’s go.”

  The line of densely packed buildings along either side of the street created an alleyway about every twenty metres. Dark and mysterious, each one had the potential to send a stream of infected toward them.

  Rhys’ eyeballs stung as he continued to look around. A quick glance and he saw that Oscar watched their environment with the same intense focus.

  “She’s a good person, you know,” Rhys said.

  Oscar continued to scan his surroundings. “Huh?”

  “The woman who’s looking after Flynn; she’s a good person. She went out of her way to help me find him. She could have saved her skin and left me to die, but she didn’t.”

  “I’m not saying she’s a bad person. I was merely observing your trusting nature. It’s a quality.”

  What a condescending arsehole! Rhys didn’t reply.

  A sharp crack came from an alleyway on their left. Both men turned in its direction. The fear inside of Rhys grew wings and beat in his chest like it wanted out.

  After a few seconds, nothing had happened so the men looked at one another and moved on again.

  Oscar rolled his neck from side to side and turned circles with his shoulders. “I’m not good at trusting people. The only person I trust is my brother. He’s got my back and I have his.”

  “You’ve not told me his name yet.”

  “What does it matter?”

  Rhys raised his hands in defence. “Sorry, mate; I’m just making conversation.”

  Oscar watched Rhys for a few seconds before he returned his focus to their environment. “Alan. His name’s Alan.”

  Rhys nodded and looked up the street. Smoke rose from a tower at the far end. “What the fuck’s happening there?”

  A squint against the sun and Oscar looked to where Rhys pointed. “Dunno, but that’s the third tower I’ve seen on fire. Poor fuckers. How are they supposed to get out of a burning building with those stupid fuck
ing shutters penning them in?” His eyes lost focus. “I heard people screaming from the last one I saw like that. I could hear the popping of windows and crackling of a bonfire inside. That one looks like it’s well and truly gone though. Burned out already. I doubt anyone’s left alive in there.”

  The damp weight of grief swelled inside Rhys as he watched it for a few more seconds. When he looked up, he saw The Alpha Tower through a gap between two buildings. A tug on Oscar’s sleeve and he pointed at an alleyway that led toward it. “Let’s go down there. It looks clear, and if there are people still burning alive in that tower, I’d rather not experience their suffering.”

  Oscar’s chest rose with a deep inhalation and he dipped a stoic nod. “Good idea.”

  Rhys ran his fingers along the rough brick wall to his left. Had he not had his bat, he would have been able to touch the wall on the right at the same time. Most of the alleyways were the same in Summit City; the buildings had been built as closely together as they could have been. Efficiency must have been the number-one priority when building the place—aesthetics clearly didn’t come very high on the list.

  Rhys should have watched the exit up ahead, but he turned around to look at Oscar and his slight limp. When he made eye contact with the man, Oscar snapped his shoulders up in a sharp shrug. “What are you looking at?”

  “You look like you’ve hurt yourself,” Rhys said.

  Oscar replied with the same aggression. “What are you talking about?”

  Before Rhys could elaborate and maybe ask Oscar to lift his trouser leg, the big man pointed in front of them. “Watch up ahead, yeah? Anything could come down this alley at any second.”

  The guy obviously had something to hide. Was he bit? Surely he would have changed by now if he’d been bitten. Rhys turned and focused on the end of the alley. They’d discuss his injury again at some point. Until then, he’d have to keep one eye on the lunatic with the axe.

  Other than the sound of their footsteps, they kept it quiet in the alley so they’d get a heads up on the diseased. The sooner they heard the clumsy beat of a stampede, the more time they’d have to react. Rhys even held his breath for as long as he could to make it quieter.