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

by Michael Robertson

  “Oh fuck,” Rhys said.

  As one, their dark mouths stretched wide, and they released the hideous braying call Rhys had come to think of as their war cry.

  Being the closest to the door, Rhys spun on his heel and ran back into the reception area. He heard Dave follow but didn’t turn around to check. His attention had locked onto the mob that had rushed in through the front door.

  A door just next to the reception desk led down to the basement. Rhys ran straight for it.

  As the mob descended on him, Rhys grabbed the handle and yanked it open. He checked to see Dave close and ran through.

  A second or two later, Rhys heard Dave open the door behind him. When he turned and looked up the long flight of stairs, he saw his best friend slam the door shut and lock it. He then followed Rhys down.

  The dark concrete basement reeked of damp. Humid and cold, it felt like they’d just locked themselves in a fucking dungeon. Rhys pushed on regardless.

  Although Rhys had worked in an exact replica of this tower for years, he’d never seen the basement.

  A loud bang and Rhys stopped to look up at the door again. One of the diseased had crashed into it and now pressed its face to the glass. It bit at it as if that would be enough to get through. The chink of its teeth against the glass called down into the darkness.

  Several more thuds and more diseased fought for a space as they pressed up against the window.

  Soon the thuds turned into hammered fists against the door. They echoed and boomed like tribal drums. Like some kind of frenzied death ritual.

  Rhys made it to the bottom of the stairs and looked at his watch before he looked back up at Dave. “It doesn’t matter if that door holds or not. What matters is getting the fuck out of here. Where does this basement lead?”

  With his attention on his feet, Dave descended the stairs.

  “Dave,” Rhys’ raised voice echoed in the enclosed space, “where does this fucking basement lead?”

  Dave still looked down when he said, “How the fuck should I know?”

  “Because you ran a building before everything went to shit.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’ve been in the basement. I never had any need to go down in one.”

  “And no one went down into one when your building was on fire?”

  “No. We were too scared to get trapped down there.”

  “Well that’s fucking great isn’t it?”

  When Dave made it down, Rhys looked back up at the small window in the door. The glass had turned red with infected blood. “Why the fuck did you lead us into a building?”

  Dave fought to catch his breath and coughed several times before he said, “I… thought we could… hide from… them.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “I don’t know… I was scared. The tower seemed like the best place to run to. You were the one who led us down here.”

  A shake of his head and Rhys threw his arms in the air. “Well thanks, Dave. After all I’ve been through and I get fucked because I trusted your judgment.” Rhys pointed up the stairs. “If those fuckers don’t bust through, then the fire will get us.”

  Dave didn’t reply. Instead, he stared at his friend, his eyes glazed with tears.

  Rhys turned his back on him and watched the diseased at the top of the stairs.

  After a minute or so, Rhys said, “Look, mate…” but when he turned around, Dave had vanished. “Dave?”

  A moment later, Dave poked his head up from a dark corner. A wide grin spilt his face.

  “What are you so fucking happy about?”

  “Come and take a look at what I’ve found.”

  Chapter 33

  “If I follow you, who’s going to keep an eye on them up there?” Not that Rhys could see the diseased through the window anymore. Instead, he watched the blood currently smeared over it shift and change as faces, hands, and whatever fucking else rubbed against it. “We need to be ready when they get through.”

  While he continued to grin at him, Dave shook his head. “No we don’t, Rhys. Just come and look, yeah?”

  Another look up the stairs and Rhys shook his head while he walked over to Dave. The basement was so poorly lit that he only saw the stairs when he got close to them. Not as long as the ones they’d just descended, they ran a steep drop into an even darker space. Rhys shook his head. “What the fuck? Where do they go?”

  “Follow me,” Dave said and coughed several times before he ran down the stairs.

  Rhys’ legs ached as he followed his friend. The smell of damp increased the lower they went. The air grew teeth as the coolness nipped at him through his thin shirt.

  When they reached the bottom, a huge space opened up. About the same dimensions as an Olympic swimming pool, the concrete area had very little to offer. “What are you so fucking excited about?”

  Dave looked across at the far wall.

  When Rhys noticed it, he drew an involuntary gasp. The wall had a door in the centre of it. “Where does it go?”

  “Fucked if I know.” After he’d coughed into his hand several times, Dave said, “However, I did just open it. It’s more than a cupboard. Anything’s better than going back the way we came, isn’t it?”

  Rhys tilted his head so his ear pointed up the stairs. The bangs seemed to increase in ferocity, almost as if their disappearance fired up the diseased’s rage even more. Then he heard the pop of the window as it broke. The rush of glass hit the concrete steps on the other side and the screams of the infected flew down into the basement. When he looked at his friend’s wide eyes, Rhys dipped a sharp nod and said, “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 34

  After Dave opened the door, Rhys peered into the tunnel. He could only see a few metres in front of him before the darkness became impenetrable. He called into it, “Hello.”

  His echo responded.

  When he looked at Dave, his friend stared back at him, dumbstruck.

  “What do you think?” Rhys said.

  The sound of splintering wood came down to them from the door up in the reception area. After he’d looked in the direction of the stairs, Dave said, “Do we have any other choice?”

  It made sense. Of course it made sense; they had five minutes at the most before a flood of chaos came down the stairs at them. Nevertheless, that didn’t make the prospect of a dark tunnel any more exciting.

  Rhys poked his head inside the tunnel. Damp hung heavier in the air down there than in the basement. The temperature seemed to have dropped by a few more degrees. Rhys shivered.

  Another crash, louder this time, and the sound of the diseased’s feet descended the stairs. Within a few seconds, the ground shook.

  “It’s like a fucking army coming for us,” Rhys said. His nerves jangled.

  Without another word, the pair darted into the tunnel, slammed the door shut, and Dave lit up the space with the torch on his phone.

  “Thank god you’ve still got your phone,” Rhys said. “I dropped mine ages ago. I didn’t fancy running down here blind… especially with those fuckers chasing us.”

  Rhys pointed his baseball bat at the door they’d just closed. “Put your light on that will ya.”

  Dave lit it up.

  An overhead swing of his bat and Rhys knocked the door handle clean off in one hit.

  “What are you doing?” Dave said.

  A tight pinch on the square rod that connected the handles, and Rhys pulled it free. A metal chink sounded on the other side of the door as the handle fell to the floor. Another metal chink responded when Rhys dropped the rod on his side of the door. “It’ll slow them down if nothing else.”

  “Ah,” Dave said as he patted Rhys on the back, “clever. That’s why you’re the brains and I’m the looks.”

  An arched eyebrow and Rhys shook his head. “Whatever, Casanova. Come on, let’s go.”

  The men could just about run side by side down the cramped tunnel. A huge metal pipe, about a metre in diameter, ran along the wall in the top
right hand corner. It limited the height on one side of the tunnel, but not to the point where either man couldn’t run beneath it.

  Before they’d gone far, Dave suddenly stopped. “Look at this, Rhys.”

  Reluctance weighed heavy on Rhys’ limbs, but he turned around and ran back to his friend. When he saw it, his breath left him. “Fuck.”

  Before he could say anything, Dave fell into another round of heavy coughs. The bark from his chest went off like a grenade in the tight tunnel. When he’d finally finished, he said, “It’s a map, Rhys.”

  “I can see that.”

  “The buildings are interconnected.”

  “I can see that too.” As he scanned the map, Rhys ran a finger across it. He felt the damp that clung to the walls. “We’re not far from Building Thirteen. If we can get there, we can get to the drawbridge easily.”

  “We’re going to get out of here, Rhys. We’re going to do it, man.”

  A scream sounded outside the door like a firework rushing toward them. It culminated in a loud bang as the first diseased crashed against it.

  Both Rhys and Dave jumped back and stared at it.

  “Come on,” Rhys said, “if we’re going to get out of here, we need to go now.”

  The pair took off again. Dave’s torch threw a hectic light around the place as his arms pumped. It brought the shadows to life and made it hard to see the way; not that it mattered in the mostly straight corridors.

  When they reached another door, Rhys’ heart sank. “I knew it was too fucking good to be true. I bet it’s fucking locked.” But when he turned the handle, the door opened.

  Both men rushed through and Rhys did the same to this door as he’d done to the last. Again, he pulled the rod through to make it harder for the mob to follow them. Again, the handle on the other side fell to the ground with a chink.

  As Rhys and Dave ran, their laboured breaths bordered on embarrassing. Rhys may have been slightly fitter, but the pair of them still sounded like old asthmatics. It didn’t matter though; Flynn needed him and he’d push himself to collapse if he had to. If he could find Flynn again, that is. Rhys shook his head. It wouldn’t do to think about it now. Once they’d crossed the river, he’d get to his boy. If Vicky’s done anything to him… He shook the thought away again.

  At the next door, Rhys paused and listened to the call of the diseased. Although distant, it still gained on them. “They’re still chasing us. I’m pretty sure they’ve made it through the first door.” He pulled the next door closed and smashed the handle off.

  Before they set off again, Rhys heard the sound of rushing water. He reached up and placed his palm against the large metal pipe. It felt cold to touch. Condensation coated the outside of it. “No wonder the entire place reeks of damp.”

  “Huh?” Dave said.

  The pipe vibrated from the heavy water flow that ran through it. A couple of jabs with the end of his baseball bat and the pipe boomed. “Hear that? That’s the sound of a full pipe.”

  “Full of what?”

  “Water, I’d guess.”

  After a slight pause, Dave said, “So what? Come on, man, we’ve got to go.”

  The diseased’s screams grew louder and Rhys glanced at his watch. The hands glowed in the dark. In just over an hour, the entire place would be turned into one of the layers of Dante’s inferno.

  Chapter 35

  As the pair ran, the wet slaps of their feet against the ground and the distant cry of their pursuers were the only sounds in the dark tunnel.

  When they got to a door on their right, they stopped as one and Dave shone his torch on it. He moved his torchlight to the wall next to it and lit up another map. Dave read the writing across the top and his voice echoed in the hard space. “Building Fifteen.” He coughed several times. “We’re only one away. Thank god. This place gives me the creeps.”

  They passed through another door that barred the way and Rhys smashed the handle from it like he had on all the other doors. The loud crash of it went off like a gunshot. A pull on the rod between the two handles and he listened to the metal ching as the handle on the other side hit the floor. The diseased screamed almost as if they understood his actions and knew their way would be barred again; although, their distant cries rang fainter than before.

  “Good job, mate,” Dave said, “I think the doors are slowing them down.”

  The pair set off again.

  Within a minute or so, a stitch tore up Rhys’ side like he’d been stabbed. He raised a hand at Dave while he slowed down. “We have to ease up a little, man.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re far enough behind.”

  Dave slowed down, but a haunted look drifted across his face. “They’ll never be far enough behind.” He covered his mouth to stifle a cough.

  The men moved at a fast walk. The pain in Rhys’ side forced him to hold his ribs as they went.

  “Thanks again for rescuing me,” Dave said. “I know you think I’m a fuck up—”

  “I don’t think you’re a fu—”

  “It’s okay, Rhys, you’re right. I’ve been doing fuck all with my life. Drifting for years and living like I’m still a teenager.”

  When Rhys opened his mouth to respond, Dave cut him off again.

  “But that’s going to change from now. No more. I’m not going to be that loser who’s always up for a night out and doesn’t get out of bed on the weekends until after dark. What’s fucking wrong with me? I’m an adult, so I need to start behaving like one. I’m going to ask Julie out.”

  “Now steady on, Dave.”

  “I’m serious. I want to settle down. Start a family. I want to try on some responsibility. Engage with my emotions rather than get wasted so I don’t have to. I want to be a dad. Have kids who can be proud of me. It’s time to grow the fuck up. You’ve handed me a second chance, and I’m going to grab it with both hands. I’m going to live every fucking second like it matters, rather than run away from it.”

  Rhys looked at his watch. “We’ve got to get off this island first.”

  “We will.”

  Anxiety stirred in Rhys’ bowels. Dave clearly didn’t get just how much more they needed to do to get free.

  After he held the next door open for Dave, Rhys stepped through, closed it, and smashed the handle clean off. The loud whack boomed in the enclosed space and the diseased behind them screamed again, fainter still. “I know we’re putting distance between us and them, but I don’t understand how they’re still on our tail,” Rhys said. “What are they doing, tearing the fucking doors from their hinges or something? How have we not lost them yet?”

  “We’re moving quicker than them,” Dave said. “That’s all we can focus on. It won’t be long before we don’t hear their screams any more. Besides, we’re nearly at Building Thirteen. After that we can leave the fuckers down here.”

  At that moment, the bright glow of Dave’s torch dulled. The darkness that surrounded them grew as if it had been waiting for the opportunity.

  When Rhys saw Dave stare at the screen on his phone, his shoulders tensed.

  Dave looked back at Rhys. A frown darkened his brow as he said, “Oh shit. My batt—”

  The light on the phone died.

  The inky blackness that smothered them pushed against Rhys’ eyes as if to claw even the memory of light from them. Another scream called out behind them. Rhys’ own voice sounded louder in the darkness.

  “It’s almost as if they can smell the opportunity.”

  Chapter 36

  The spark of the flint for Rhys’ lighter punched through the darkness. One, two, three times before the flame took. A slight breeze—neither man knew where from—shook the tiny light and animated the shadows that surrounded them.

  Blind spots flashed in Rhys’ vision from the sudden change in light, and after a few seconds, he had to let the flame die. Hold it for too long and the plastic that held the strike wheel would melt, the spring-loaded flint would push against it, and the strike whee
l, flint, and spring would disappear into the darkness forever. Better to have momentary flashes of light than none at all.

  The men continued to walk at a fast pace. The darkness made Rhys move with greater stealth. Because of his lack of vision, he needed to keep his noise down so he could rely on his other senses. If only Dave would stop fucking coughing then maybe he’d hear something.

  Every time Rhys stepped forward, uncertainty flipped his stomach in anticipation of a fall. At some point, he’d walk into something that would throw him to the ground. They didn’t have any other choice but to keep on though; if they stopped, the diseased would catch them.

  Rhys quickly gave up on his attempts to keep quiet. Their feet scraped as they shuffled along. It joined the sound of their heavy breaths, the rush of water in the huge pipe next to them, Dave’s coughs, and the echoing screams of the diseased behind… It felt like they were trapped in a labyrinth with a Minotaur on their scent.

  Every ten seconds or so, Rhys flicked his lighter. It punched through the darkness and the bright spark made him flinch each time. He half expected to see a wall of diseased in front of him in the brief moment of illumination.

  A few seconds later and he lifted his thumb away from the lighter and plunged them back into darkness. Rhys finally spoke. “They’re going to catch us at this rate.”

  Dave breathed in short, sharp bursts, but said nothing in response. Maybe he had a cough in his throat that he didn’t want to release. Maybe he had nothing to add.

  Rhys passed through another door and handed his lighter to Dave. “Here, keep this on for a second.”

  Dave lit up the tunnel and Rhys took a heavy swing at the door handle. It couldn’t have been louder than any of the other handles, but the bang this time sounded like he’d fired a cannon in the tunnel and the darkness amplified the noise.