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

by Michael Robertson

  A tightness gripped Dave’s features as he looked from one of Rhys’ eyes to the other. “I’m scared, Rhys. I don’t want to become one of them.” He twitched again.

  After several stuttered breaths, Rhys finally managed to force his words past his despair. The distance between them had grown to the point where he needed to shout. “I know, man. I know you don’t. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry with you.”

  A forced smile and Dave pointed at Rhys. “Just make sure you get to Flynn, yeah? Go be with your boy.” Another sharp twitch snapped through him that sent one of his arms away from his body.

  Choked by his grief, Rhys watched his friend head back to shore.

  When he got to shallow water, Dave stood up, and without another word, turned around to face the oncoming mob. The frequency of the twitches increased and turned his movements jerky. The diseased continued to rush over the hill. The ones at the front had nearly caught up to Dave.

  When they did, every single one of them ignored him. They ran around him and splashed into the water after Rhys and Larissa.

  “They’re leaving him alone,” Rhys said. “They know he’s one of them.”

  Although Larissa didn’t reply, he felt her hand on his back. Rhys watched his best friend succumb to the virus and his vision blurred with his tears.

  Dave grabbed the diseased as they passed him and he tossed them to the ground. But for every one he knocked over, ten more made it through.

  The monsters splashed into the water, and like before, each and every one of them disappeared beneath the surface. Dave continued to fight.

  “We don’t need Dave to protect us now,” Rhys said as he watched his friend’s ineffective battle. “We need him later. We need him on this fucking boat with us. We need him without a huge fucking bite on his fucking stomach. We need…” He couldn’t get the words past his tears.

  Rhys felt the gentle touch of Larissa’s hand on his back again.

  Chapter 43

  As they crossed the river, Rhys stared at his lap and his tears fell down between his legs. He continued to look down and drew a deep breath before he said, “When I was in the city, I found something out about the woman who has Flynn.”

  Larissa stopped rowing.

  Tense in anticipation of the response, Rhys continued anyway. “She’s not who I thought she was.”

  “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Larissa’s voice became more high-pitched. “What do you mean, you don’t know? She has our boy, Rhys.”

  Rhys’ heart thudded when he looked up at her. He knew she’d behave like this, although, to be fair, he’d react in exactly the same way. “You think I don’t fucking know that? Someone helped me get to The Alpha Tower. His name was Oscar. At least that’s what he told me it was. A lot later on, I found out he was a terrorist from The East. He knew her.”

  “And you’ve left Flynn with her? What the fuck?”

  “Obviously I didn’t know any of this at the time.”

  “So what does she have to do with The East?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve got to give me something more, Rhys.”

  “I don’t know. He knew her name, that’s all I know. I may have said it during the time we spent together. Maybe he’s using the fact that I forgot to mention it against me, but I don’t know. We just need to get to the other side. Hopefully everything’s okay.”

  “Hopefully?”

  Rhys ground his jaw and stared at the woman he used to love. He didn’t speak again.

  When the boat bumped into the bank on the other side, Rhys looked back across the river. Through all of the diseased—the hatred, the snarling, the growls, the roars—he saw Dave. Just like all of the others, he stared pure malice at Rhys. His best friend. Rhys’ view blurred again and his throat burned.

  With barely any strength left in his exhausted body, Rhys stood up on shaky legs. He turned his back on his friend and got out of the boat.

  The ground pulled at his feet again. A thick bog for the first few metres near the riverbank, it threatened to take what little energy Rhys had left in him. Nevertheless, he pushed on and dragged the boat behind him.

  When its base had dug into the ground, he held his hand out for Larissa to help her hop onto the shore.

  She jumped down and stared at him.

  Rhys turned his back on her and walked off up the hill.

  Chapter 44

  Were it not for the fact that Flynn would be waiting for him, Rhys wouldn’t have made it to the top of the riverbank. Exhausted both emotionally and physically, he felt just about ready to throw the fucking towel in.

  When he got to the top and saw the police car, he forgot his aches and pains. He broke into a run. Clumsy with tiredness, he crashed into the car, the metal hot from the day.

  After he’d pulled the driver’s door open, what small amount of strength he had in his body abandoned him.

  When Larissa arrived at his side, she shrieked. “What’s happened, Rhys? Where’s our boy? What’s happened to him?”

  Although Rhys opened and closed his mouth, he couldn’t get the words out. Blood coated the interior of the car. It soaked the seats to the point where it pooled on them. It had turned the wheel and dashboard slick, and dripped off the indicator stalks. The metallic reek made Rhys’ stomach turn.

  Before Rhys could speak, static hissed from the radio in the car. When he leaned in, blood pushed up from the seat and spread between his fingers. He grabbed the radio mic. “Hello.”

  Out of breath and panicked, Vicky said, “Rhys, it’s me. I’ve fucked up big time, but you can trust me. Please believe me when I say that.”

  Rhys gripped the mic so hard it hurt his hand. He shouted, “Where’s Flynn?”

  “With me. He’s okay.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I had to move.”

  “Where are you?”

  Another voice came over the radio. It sounded farther away from Vicky. The man who spoke was clearly chasing her. “Come back here, you bitch.”

  Then he heard Flynn’s voice. “I’m scared. Where are we going? I want my mum and dad. Why are we running?”

  “Vicky,” Rhys said as his spittle sprayed the microphone, “where are you? What’s happening?”

  A clattering sound and the radio went dead.

  “Vicky?”

  Nothing.

  Rhys banged the mic against the car’s dashboard. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  When he stood up, he wiped the blood from his hands onto his trousers. A deep whoosh then sounded out behind him. When he turned around, he saw flames in Summit City jump from the ground. They leaped about five metres into the air and rushed through the streets like a flood.

  The blast of heat blew Rhys’ hair back. It rocked him on his heels.

  Numb and exhausted, Rhys stood and stared at the burning city. He looked at Larissa. “How the fuck are we supposed to just wait here? How long will she be? When do we accept that she ain’t coming back?”

  Larissa didn’t respond. Instead, she stared at the burning city through unblinking and glazed eyes.

  Rhys looked into the car again. He’d been too shocked to notice it the first time around, but now he couldn’t see anything else. “Fuck,” he said.

  “What?” Larissa asked.

  Rhys pointed at the axe on the back seat. “That’s Oscar’s axe.”

  Ends.

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  The Alpha Plague - Book 3

  Email: subscribers@michaelrobertson.co.uk

  Edited by:

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  Cover Design by Dusty Crosley

  The Alpha Plague 3

  Michael Robertson

  © 2015 Michael Robertson

  The Alpha Plague 3 is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, situations, and all dialogue are entirely a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously and are not in any way representative of real people, places or things.

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Chapter 1

  Physically exhausted and still reeling from the shocking image in front of him, Rhys stared at the blood all over the police car and shook from his toes up. He reached out and rested against the vehicle for balance, the metal still warm from the day’s sun. His head felt too heavy to hold up, so he looked at the ground as he drew deep breaths. Vicky had Flynn, but where the fuck had she taken him?

  So much blood had been spilled inside the car that some of it had flooded out onto the road. It glistened in the fading sun. The smell of the diseased mixed with both the metallic reek of blood and the acrid tang of burning plastic from Summit City.

  Several more deep breaths and Rhys gulped back the chemical taste from the fire. He lifted his head and looked around. There had to be a trace of Flynn somewhere; a trail they could follow. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be a trail of blood. Vicky would take care of him as she promised she would. But a near-stranger’s promise offered little comfort to a father in need of his son.

  Rhys had never seen the approach road so quiet. He’d only used it in rush hour and now there would never be one of those again.

  The door to the control booth for the drawbridge hung wide open. Rhys looked at the smoked Perspex windows. Maybe they’d been clear at some point before sweaty body after sweaty body had funked the small hut up. The unintentional frosting seemed to be years’ worth of perspiration and dirt. A gap of about ten metres separated Rhys from the booth. Despite the distance, Rhys could almost smell the stale hut from where he stood. Fuck knows how people spent their days inside it.

  Rhys looked across the river to see Summit City burning and could feel Larissa’s attention on him. The press of her panic pushed into the side of his face like the heat from a strong fire, but he didn’t have any answers for her. Their boy and Vicky were gone; what else could he say?

  Rhys allowed the glowing horizon to hypnotise him and continued to watch the place burn. In a short time, the horrible city would be no more than ashes; maybe they’d be somewhere safe with Flynn by then.

  The crackle of fire and pop of windows filled what would have been an otherwise quiet evening and was better than the screams of the diseased. He’d be happy to never hear that again.

  With the shutters now retracted, the skyline once more stood as rows of tower blocks rather than phallic steel pillars. However, they weren’t the tower blocks that Rhys had become familiar with; these stood windowless and charred as black smoke poured from the open spaces. The shining examples of commercial architecture were now no more than skeletal husks.

  After a short while, Rhys’ eyes stung and his vision blurred from where he hadn’t blinked. The fire seemed to have done its job. Hopefully, it had killed all of the diseased including Dave. The poor man didn’t deserve to suffer. None of them did. But even his thoughts of Dave seemed like a distraction. Something to take him away from the same question that repeated through his mind … Where the fuck was his little boy?

  When Larissa walked over to Rhys’ side, he tensed at her close proximity. He didn’t need her aggression on top of everything else. He had no answers for her.

  When he looked at her, she stared straight back, accusation in her green eyes. He said nothing.

  After she’d looked from Rhys to the inside of the car and back to Rhys again, she spoke with such a sharp tone her words came out as razor blades.

  “That’s Oscar’s axe?”

  It seemed more like an attack than a question. How was it Rhys’ fault? He took a moment to gather his thoughts. After a deep breath, he said, “Yep.”

  The panic of a mother, as justified at it was, hurt Rhys’ ears as Larissa’s tone became more shrill.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I watched him bury it into enough diseased faces.”

  “But it’s just an axe.” Rapid breaths rocked her frame. “It could be anyone’s.”

  The sting of tears burned Rhys’ eyes as his fear momentarily overwhelmed him. His boy was out there somewhere. He’d had everything he’d wanted and he’d fucked it all up when he went back into the city for Larissa and Dave. He shook his head.

  “It’s not just anyone’s, Larissa. It’s not a coincidence. Why do you think Vicky was running when we heard her?”

  With wide eyes, Larissa dragged a hand over the top of her head and held her short black hair away from her face. She clenched her jaw and breathed through her nose.

  “No, it can’t be,” she finally said. “There must be a mistake. I thought you trapped Oscar in the city.”

  “I thought so too, but that’s his axe. I hope I’m wrong, but we need to plan for the worst so we’re prepared.”

  Larissa’s mouth turned down at the corners and tears glazed her stare as she looked from one of Rhys’ eyes to the other.

  “I can’t plan for the worst. I can’t do that.”

  With a hand on Larissa’s slim shoulder, Rhys squeezed it and said, “I don’t mean we should plan for Flynn to be …” The hot lump in his throat cut his words off. “Well, what I mean is that we need to plan for Oscar to be out of the city. Not for anything to have happened to Flynn. We’ve just heard from Vicky, so we know he’s okay at the moment.”

  Before Larissa said anything in response, Rhys’ grief overwhelmed him and his vision blurred. He looked at the burning city again.

  “I thought I knew fear, and then we had Flynn. Now there’s someone out there who I care infinitely more about than I do myself, and I have no control over his wellbeing. After everything that’s happened today, I can’t lose him. I can’t even entertain the idea of that. We’ll make sure we save him … I promise.”

  Larissa’s grief turned to rage in a flash and her eyes narrowed. “Forgive me if I don’t put much faith in one of your promises.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Do I need to spell it out? You’re a liar and a cheat. You talk about how much Flynn means to you, but you were happy to fuck around when he was just a baby.”

  The little strength that remained in Rhys’ body left him. He pulled his hand away from Larissa’s shoulder and leaned his entire weight against the car again.

  “I promised Flynn I’d rescue you.”

  Stumped for a second, Larissa came back at him. “But that doesn’t mean you had to leave him with her.”

  Like he could have done anything else. Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but Larissa didn’t give him a chance. Instead, she stepped forward and punched him on the front of his right shoulder.

  “Why did you leave our boy with a complete stranger? You wonder why I fought you for custody of him? The first time you look after him in years and this is what happens! You’re a fucking liability.”

  The lethargy of just seconds before left Rhys as adrenaline surged through him. He stood up straight, balled his fists, and pulled his shoul
ders back while he stared directly at her. His shoulder stung where she’d hit it.

  Larissa didn’t back down, her scowl as fierce as ever.

  With a clenched jaw and a raging pulse, Rhys stared at the woman he once loved. “So that was why you kept him away from me? And there I was thinking it was just you being a cunt.”

  “I wasn’t the one who fucked someone else, Rhys.”

  “Do we have to keep going back to that?”

  “Yes, we do. If you could have kept it in your trousers, then we would be in a very different place by now.”

  “So the zombie apocalypse has hit because I had an affair?”

  “You know what I mean.” Larissa then turned her back on Rhys and looked out at the city.

  With only the back of her head to look at, Rhys glanced down at the axe in the car. His heart rate increased as he stared at the savage weapon. To touch the thing would be to connect with Oscar more, but maybe he could use it just once. He could bury it into the back of Larissa’s skull and tell Flynn she never got away. A shake of his head banished the fantasy.

  Rhys may have been many things, but he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer. Despite their dysfunctional relationship, she’d always be the mother of his child.

  “I left Flynn with Vicky so I could come back into the city to rescue you. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Just the thought of it clawed at Rhys’ heart, but he said it anyway. “The first thing he said after I’d rescued him was ‘where’s Mummy?’ What else could I do? I love that boy, despite what you think, and I want to do everything I can to make him happy. Yeah, I fucked up, but that doesn’t mean I love him any less. I didn’t want to leave him but I couldn’t stand to see him so upset.”