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

by Michael Robertson

  After he’d laid his baseball bat along the handlebars of his bike so it pointed straight at the diseased, Rhys then laid the rocket on top of the bat.

  As he rode down the alley, the angry hiss of the rocket culminated in a sharp buck that sent the firework off in front of him. His hand throbbed from the shower of sparks.

  Rhys peddled harder than before and dipped his head as he put everything he had into his escape.

  He shoulder barged a couple of diseased on the way out. A weak hand tried to grab him, but he broke free of the confined space with no more than a slight wobble of his bike before he regained his balance.

  The wide road on the other side of the alley didn’t have the poles in the middle anymore, and although infected and uninfected fought in the streets, Rhys had more space to ride through than he’d had in the square.

  Hopefully Larissa and Dave had made it through. Rhys couldn’t wait in the city for too long. Trying to avoid the diseased was one thing, but he couldn’t outrun instantaneous fire…

  Chapter 30

  When Rhys arrived at Central Station, he couldn’t see another soul… infected or uninfected. The closest tower block was a few hundred metres away and the insanity hadn’t spread this far… yet. But the possibility was that neither Dave nor Larissa had made it either and with the clock ticking towards incineration, he couldn’t wait long.

  Regardless of its apparent emptiness, Rhys rode over to the entranceway to the station and peered in. The escalators that led down into the seemingly abandoned tube station sat motionless, like they had earlier. If Dave or Larissa wanted to hide, they could have gone down there.

  Before Rhys could venture any farther, he heard his name hissed from a dark corner.

  “Rhys.”

  Dave stepped from the nearby shadows. Two tear lines streaked his filthy cheeks and he stared at Rhys through bloodshot eyes. The fire had clearly fucked him up.

  “Are you okay, mate?” Rhys said.

  Instead of offering a reply, his friend barked a deep cough into his hand and nodded. As he continued to walk toward Rhys, he searched around with wide eyes and kept his voice low. “Why’s it so quiet here?”

  It did seem odd. “Dunno. I’m guessing we’re too far away from any of the tower blocks for the carnage to have made it here yet. I think that’s going to change pretty fucking soon,”—another look at his watch—“although the city might be ablaze before that happens. Besides, the station areas are never busy unless it’s rush hour. Who uses the trains at any other time?”

  Dave looked far from convinced and continued his assessment of their surrounding area. “I think we’ll be mobbed pretty soon if we don’t get a move on.”

  For a second, Rhys stared at the space behind Dave before he looked back at his friend. “Have you seen Larissa?”

  While he continued his perpetual search of everything around them, Dave shook his head. “No.” The whites of his wide eyes flicked from side to side as if unable to settle on any one thing. “I don’t like it here, Rhys.”

  “The entire city’s fucked,” Rhys said, “I’m not expecting you to like it anywhere, to be honest.”

  Dave’s wild eyes finally settled on Rhys. “Where do you think she is?”

  “Fucked if I know. She’s probably turned into one of them. What are the chances of both of you making it here unscathed? But how can I go back to Flynn without his mum? I promised him I’d bring her back,” Rhys looked at his watch again and shook his head, “but we can’t wait for her. If we do we’ll die, and I wouldn’t mind betting that burning to death feels a whole lot fucking worse than being infected.”

  When Dave didn’t reply, still clearly shell-shocked as he continued his wide-eyed assessment of their environment, Rhys removed the walkie-talkie from his pocket. A twist of the power button and loud static hissed from the small speaker. Rhys jumped and shook in his panic to lower the volume. “Fuck!”

  When he saw Dave stare at the loud device, he shrugged. “All I want to do is get a hold of Vicky.”

  “Vicky?”

  A wave of his hand to dismiss the conversation, and Rhys said, “I’ll explain later, but basically, Flynn’s with her.”

  “You’ve left Flynn with a stranger?”

  A look back to where he’d come from and the shrill call of the diseased ran a cold shiver down Rhys’ back. “Now’s not the time, Dave.”

  Before the conversation could go any further, a solitary figure rounded the corner. It ran at a full, yet clumsy sprint.

  Rhys got off his bike and leaned it against a wall. With his bat raised, he turned to Dave and said, “You need to learn how to kill these things.”

  “But they’re people!”

  “They ain’t people… very fucking far from it, in fact. They’re monsters. If you think of them as human, you’ll be one of them in a heartbeat.” Rhys stepped forward when the infected woman got closer. She ran with her head dipped as if she were about to fall forward. Her greasy black hair swayed from side to side with the motion of her staggered gait.

  Rhys took a deep breath and unleashed a full-bodied swing of his bat. The metal ting of it connected with the diseased’s face. The sound rang out across the quiet city and drove the creature backward. A spray of blood shot away from her already bloody mouth in a long sticky line.

  Rhys turned to Dave. “Now I’m sure this fucker’s already dead, but once they’re down, make sure you turn their lights out.” While he bit down on his bottom lip, Rhys held the bat above his head and drove it into the skull of the downed creature. The bone broke with a crack.

  When Rhys turned back to Dave, he saw his friend watch on aghast and said, “They ain’t people any more. You need to get that into your head.”

  Before Dave could reply, Rhys looked at an abandoned car to his right. The front had a dent in it from where it had obviously collided with a pole. The driver’s door hung open. Rhys walked over to it, leaned inside, and pulled the lever that unlatched the boot. A pop sounded out before Rhys walked around to the back of the car and opened it up.

  After he’d pulled the carpeted board away and tossed it aside, Rhys looked down at the spare tyre. He then pulled the silver tyre iron out and handed it to Dave. “Here, use this.”

  Another heavy bout of coughs and Dave took the weapon. He bounced it up and down as if to test the weight of it before he stepped forward and hugged Rhys. He gripped him so tightly that Rhys struggled to breathe. “Thank you, man. Thank you for coming back for me. You didn’t have to. I really appreciate it.”

  With his arms pinned to his side, Rhys nodded and moved his face away from the strong smell of smoke on Dave’s clothes. “It’s cool, honestly, but you need to give me my arms back, dude. I’m no good without them.”

  Dave let go and stepped back.

  “Just promise me one thing,” Rhys said.

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t freeze, yeah? I need to know you can kill these things if you need to. I need to know you have my back. Otherwise, you’re putting both of us at risk. Do you understand? They ain’t people anymore.”

  Dave nodded.

  Rhys left his bike propped against the entrance to the station, and said, “Come on, mate, we can’t wait for Larissa. We don’t have any time left. I just hope she’s made it to the drawbridge.”

  Chapter 31

  Air moved in and out of Rhys’ lungs much more easily than it had over the past few days. The relentless exercise seemed to have made a difference. Although compared to Dave, he had the fitness of an Olympic athlete, so maybe that was the difference. When Rhys had been with Oscar, it felt like trying to keep up with a racehorse, even with the big man’s injury. Because Dave had spent the past few hours in a burning building, he coughed so hard that every few seconds he heaved. To be fair to him, he still ran while he coughed. Rhys would have stopped for sure.

  Rhys talked as they ran. Dave listened and coughed some more. He’d only given Dave the briefest of versions but after a few succi
nct minutes, Dave had been roughly caught up on Vicky, Oscar, and the new information he’d been given about Vicky.

  “So you still haven’t got a hold of her?” Dave said as his feet slapped against the hard ground. A rattle accompanied his breaths as he pushed himself on.

  Rhys shook his head and swallowed an arid mouthful of hot air. All he wanted was to stop and rest, but they had to keep going. Besides, if Dave didn’t need to stop, then Rhys certainly didn’t need to either. He glanced at the Superman watch; in under an hour and a half the entire city would burn hotter than hell.

  With the drawbridge close, the pair pushed on. They’d made good time and they’d be on the river before the place went up. Hopefully Larissa would be there too.

  “I’ve always admired you,” Dave said before he broke into another coughing fit.

  After he looked at his friend, Rhys looked ahead again. “Save your breath, man, you may need it if we run into a crowd of them.”

  “I just wanted to say it; you always get shit done.” Sweat glistened on Dave’s dark skin. It tore trails down his face where he’d been previously marked by the smoke and soot. He fought to catch his breath before he said, “If I had to bet on anyone coming to save me, it would be you. You put up with all my bullshit, but you still treated me like a friend. A lot of people would have cut me loose a long time ago.”

  A shrug and Rhys focused on his breath again. On a loop, he inhaled for four and exhaled for two. His lethargic steps played the beat by which he ran to.

  “I’m so grateful you got me out,” Dave said. “Thank you. You’ve always been the strong one. Level headed. We’d go out on the piss but you always kept your wits, no matter how drunk you got. And that’s the thing. You never got wasted like the rest of us. You’ve got more class, man.” Dave’s voice wound tighter with each word until the inevitable coughing fit cannoned from him.

  “Save your breath,” Rhys said again.

  Dave shook his head as he coughed. “You never got in fights. Never got so pissed you couldn’t stand up. I was always a mess and you always held it together. And you know what? Even when you weren’t out drinking with us, just seeing you in the morning kept me on a level. You always made me want to be a better person than I was.”

  Because Dave sounded on the verge on a panic attack, his breath so out of control he wheezed like a broken dog toy, Rhys tried to cut the conversation off. “Thank you.”

  But Dave drew another breath to speak and coughed harder than before.

  Before Dave could say anything else, Rhys stopped and grabbed Dave’s arm. Rhys pushed a finger to his lips and pointed up ahead. Dave looked up the road and got it straight away. When Rhys pulled him over to the side into the shadows, Dave moved without resistance.

  As they waited, Dave still gasped for breath and Rhys watched him. He looked like he could cough again.

  Out of breath too, Rhys kept his finger pressed to his lips. He sniffed the air. The reek of rot hung around them.

  When Dave did the same, he screwed his face up at the smell.

  Rhys pointed to the end of the street.

  Dave looked like he did his best to stifle his cough and tucked in behind Rhys.

  If his cough gave them away… Rhys didn’t need to think about it. One step at a time. Only deal with the issues directly in front of him.

  With Dave behind, Rhys walked forward and fought to bring his breath back under control. He walked towards the edge of the building on tiptoes. His weak legs trembled from the effort.

  The closer they got to the bend, the greater the reek. The familiar stink of rot and excrement choked Rhys, and it felt harder to breathe than it had a few seconds previously. It didn’t help that his throat had dried to the point where he felt sick. A funky taste of morning breath and bile sat as a furry layer on his tongue.

  With the bend no more than a few metres away, the static hiss of Rhys’ walkie-talkie cut through the silence. Fuck! He’d left it on from when he tried to call Vicky! Rhys heart leapt and he fumbled to remove the device from his pocket. When he’d finally managed it, he turned the volume completely down. It had been quite low anyway, so maybe nothing heard them.

  He looked at Dave to see him chew his bottom lip as he stared at the black device in Rhys’ hand. The guy still held his coughs back.

  The pair stood in silence, stared at one another, and listened. Rhys watched the corner. One of the diseased would surely tear around it at any moment. He’d been worried Dave might give them away, but he’d left the fucking walkie-talkie on.

  But it was Vicky on the other side. He had to talk to her. Rhys led a retreat from the bend. He had to speak to Flynn too. A quick conversation and they could head to the drawbridge. But he had to have that conversation.

  When they’d pulled back far enough, Rhys turned the volume of the walkie-talkie up again. A press of the talk button cut through the quiet hiss of static. Rhys’ voice croaked. “Vicky, it’s Rhys, come in.”

  “Rhys?” Her voice crackled through the small speaker.

  “Why would someone from The East know your name, Vicky? What have you done?”

  “I… I don’t know, Rhys. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Why do you sound so fucking nervous then?”

  Dave’s mouth hung open as he watched on.

  Vicky didn’t reply.

  “Brendan told me to say hi.”

  The hiss of static answered Rhys.

  “Vicky? What the fuck’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’m sorry, Rhys. I’m truly sorry. If I’d have known it would have come to this, I wouldn’t have done anything, I swear. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Adrenaline surged through Rhys. It accelerated his pulse and pulled his guts tight. Just before he could respond, he saw Dave raise a shaky hand and point up the road. One of the group they’d smelled appeared from around the corner. But Rhys needed answers. “What have you done, Vicky? Where’s my boy?”

  “We’ve gotta split, dude,” Dave said.

  “Vicky?”

  Nothing.

  “Vicky? Where’s Flynn? What have you done to him?” The walkie-talkie shook in his tight grip and Rhys’ blood boiled. It took all of his effort not to smash the black handset on the ground.

  Dave clamped a hard grip onto Rhys’ shoulder, shook him, and pointed up the road again. “If we don’t go now, we’re fucked. Seriously, Rhys, we need to get a fucking move on.”

  Rhys looked up and saw the twisted, solitary diseased. It swayed from side to side as it walked. Oblivious until that moment, it turned and stared at the pair.

  Time froze.

  When the creature opened its mouth, Rhys’ skin turned to gooseflesh. He’d pushed his luck and now they had to pay the price.

  Dave spoke in a low voice, although the need to be quiet had already passed. “We need to go, Rhys.”

  Several quick nods and Rhys said, “I think you’re right, man.”

  The creature released the familiar primal call of the diseased. A braying, heaving cry that told any of them within earshot I’ve found prey.

  The pack answered with their usual thunderous roar.

  Rhys and Dave ran.

  Chapter 32

  By the time Rhys had turned around, Dave already had a lead on him. The wheezy smoke-damaged Dave of only a few seconds ago seemed like nothing but a distant memory now. And because Dave had taken the lead, Rhys had to follow. He’d already opened up a gap big enough that he wouldn’t hear Rhys if he called after him. The mob’s feet behind beat a war cry against the pavement. If that didn’t drown him out, their screams and roars would.

  They couldn’t run forever. They had to think of something. Or rather, Dave had to think of something; Rhys would have to go his own way if Dave made a bad choice.

  When they rounded the next corner, a tower block came into view. Rhys’ heart sank when Dave headed straight for it.

  “What are you doing?” Rhys called after him, but before
the words had left his mouth, he’d given up any hope of being heard. Instead, he ran and debated as Dave ran across the road to the other side.

  Rhys’ gut told him to run past the building. The tower block would be full of dead ends and nothing else. Unless Dave knew better than Rhys, that is. After all, the guy did run the building management for his last tower. Rhys often joked about him being no more than a janitor, but maybe Dave’s knowledge would save them. Dave would trust Rhys’ judgment in this situation. A shake of his head and Rhys crossed the road after him.

  Like all of the other towers, Tower Eighteen’s front doors had been flung wide open from the mass exodus.

  Rhys entered the building about ten seconds after Dave. The large open foyer amplified both their hasty getaway and their heavy breaths. Dave barked a deep cough as he ran.

  The front reception desk sat empty, the floor all around littered with blankets, cushions, cups, mugs, and other paraphernalia associated with a long fucking wait. After the initial fear had subsided, it must have been so dull to be locked up in one of the towers. Unless you watched hundreds of people burn to death, that is. Dave undoubtedly would have chosen dull over what he saw.

  Dave looked like a man with purpose as he headed straight for the double doors on the other side of the room. A tilt to the side and he barged into one of them with a loud bang.

  The door closed before Rhys got to it, so he did the same. The heavy door stung his shoulder from the collision and ran a shock to the base of his still sore back, but Rhys forgot the pain in an instant when he crashed into his stationary friend on the other side. “What the fuck, man? Why did you st—”

  The drawn look of horror that hung from Dave’s face robbed Rhys of his words.

  Before he looked past Dave, he caught the rancid reek of rot. He heard the disgruntled murmur of what sounded like perpetual pain. He felt the combined focus of their collective attention. All of the hairs on his body lifted. At the end of the long corridor, aimless and restless, stood a herd of about fifteen diseased.