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

by Michael Robertson

  The same confused frown returned and Flynn nodded. “I know, Vicky.” He rolled his eyes, and for the first time in what felt like months, he reached across and held her hand, his dark and watery stare looking straight into hers. Maybe he understood what was about to happen, even if he didn’t realise it.

  After he’d let go, Vicky’s hand turned cold as if longing for one last touch, one last moment of affection to take with her. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t be able to stay in Home. She watched him leave the canteen at a slow trudge. Tears dampened her cheeks and dripped onto her lap to see him leave her life. A knot tied in her guts and she pushed her tray of food away from her. It didn’t matter who looked at her anymore. They could fuck off and die for all she cared. Fuck them.

  Once Flynn had left, Vicky got up and left the canteen too.

  By the time Vicky returned to her room, she couldn’t see for tears. It took several attempts for her to reach the door handle to get into the place.

  Vicky jumped when she entered and found Serj waiting for her.

  A twist of apology turned his features and he said, “I’m sorry, Vicky. I wish I could make it work so you could stay here. I’ll miss you more than you know.”

  “I understand,” Vicky said. “Just let me do it on my terms, yeah?”

  Serj drew a deep inhale and his cheeks puffed out when he let it go. He didn’t respond to her.

  Chapter 65

  Flynn woke up and ached all over. The battle the day before had taken it out of him and he missed Piotr like he’d lost a part of himself. Vicky had gone all weird on him and he needed the big Russian man now more than ever. But he had cleared the air with her at least. Maybe they could find a way to get on again. She’d been such a pain in his arse for the longest time.

  Although he didn’t want to get up, Flynn forced himself to sit in his bed. The voice of his fallen comrade, Piotr, echoed through his mind. Keep going, Flynn. You need to keep going.

  Before Flynn could do much else, he saw a piece of paper folded up on his duvet. When he picked it up and unfolded it, he saw Vicky’s writing.

  Dear Flynn,

  I’ve chosen to go now. The fact is, I can’t stay here after all the shit that’s happened. I’m not good for the mood of this place, and now Moira’s gone, I’m not needed. You’ve seen the effect my presence has on people. A lot of them blame me for the war with Moira, and maybe they’re right to. The fact is, I can’t stay here any longer. Don’t try to follow, you’ll never find me, and I’ve got a good lead on you already.

  I want you to know you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. You’re so loyal and I know you’d come after me if you could, so please trust me when I say you’ll NEVER find me. You need to make a go of things in Home and I don’t want to get in the way of that. Things are on the up for you, so stay there and realise the greatness you have inside. Serj needs a new deputy and you’re a warrior more than fit for the task.

  Flynn’s pulse pounded through his skull and his head spun. He continued to read.

  I love you more than you’ll ever know. I know we’ve butted heads, but it never once diluted how I feel about you. If you feel angry towards anyone and how they treated me, please let that go. I would make the same decisions and accept the same consequences all over again. To blame the people around you will eat you from the inside out. The truth is, the only person to blame here is me. I’m responsible for this mess, so I’m taking myself away from it. I don’t want to jeopardise your future.

  If there’s one thing we’re on this planet for, it’s to make sure we do everything we can to make the next generation better than we’ve been. You’re a thousand times the person I could ever be, so take that and burn bright with it. Help future generations make this world shine again.

  Things will get better as long as there’s people like you in the world. You’ll find happiness beyond this. Know that’s all we’ll ever want for you. Your mum, your dad, and me. We all want you to live your life to its fullest. Be strong and walk with the love of generations in your heart. Make this world your own and don’t be afraid to show everyone the warrior within.

  As I walk in the shadows, I’ll have the light of my love for you in my heart. Be strong and burn bright.

  Love always,

  Vicky XXX

  By the time he’d finished reading the letter, Flynn’s hands shook, wobbling the sheet of paper. The grief for Piotr trebled to know Vicky had gone too. And she’d chosen to go. Chosen to leave him when he needed her most …

  Epilogue

  THE PREVIOUS EVENING

  After Vicky had written Flynn a letter, she folded it and gave it to Serj. “Make sure he gets it.”

  Serj nodded.

  Vicky knew what had to happen. Whether she agreed with it or not, she had to accept the way of things around here. No one would forgive her for the virus, and why should they? After she’d taken all of her weapons out and thrown them on her bed, she offered her wrists to Serj to bind.

  A glassy stare and Serj shook his head.

  “This has to happen,” Brian said when Vicky arrived in the foyer with Serj. The vicious man stood next to Sharon, Dan, and several other people from Home.

  “I always knew you were a cunt,” Brian added, “but to know you’re the reason this fucking virus happened.”

  “I didn’t create it.”

  “Did you or did you not help release it upon the world?”

  Instead of answering, Vicky stared at the floor and sighed.

  “Exactly. How can you expect the people here to be happy with you staying when you’re the reason their loved ones are dead?”

  “Just fucking get on with it, yeah?” Vicky said.

  A flash of anger snapped across Brian’s face before he drew a deep breath, stepped forwards, and cable tied her hands. “Not that I’m inclined to grant them, but do you have any last requests?”

  “Just make sure Flynn thinks I’ve gone. I want him to be safe here, and if he thinks I’ve left him and don’t want to be found, he’ll stay. If he knows you found out about what I did and that you’ve sentenced me, he’ll leave. He’s only a boy. He’s done nothing wrong and shouldn’t be punished for my mistakes.”

  Cruelty twisted Brian’s features, and before he could answer, Serj said, “I’ll make sure that happens. Also, we don’t use the alarm tonight.”

  A few of the group looked at Serj.

  “We don’t need to,” Serj said. “There are enough diseased out there. We don’t need to make a big show of it. Whatever you think of Vicky and her past, she fought hard in this war and she’s the reason we still live here.”

  “The war wouldn’t have ever happened were it not for her,” Sharon said. “My kids would still be alive.”

  Serj shook his head and didn’t reply.

  As much as Vicky wanted to be calm in the face of her own end, she drew deep breaths, but they did little to settle her fluttering heart. A hot throb ran through her hands from where Brian had fastened the cable tightly around her wrists.

  “I promise you,” Serj said, his eyes tearing up again as he put his arm around Vicky, “Flynn will never know what happened here. If anyone tries to tell him, they’ll be out the door next.”

  “Thank you,” Vicky said, her grief cutting off her words.

  On her way to the front door, Vicky glanced out of one of the large windows. Scores of diseased milled about in the darkness. At least it would be quick.

  The top lock on the door snapped free from where Brian released it. The second made the same loud crack. One final angry glare at Vicky and he said, “You’d best get the fuck out with no nonsense.”

  Just before Brian opened the door, Serj wrapped Vicky in a tight hug. The man smelled of soap and Vicky breathed in her final moments of human contact.

  After Serj had pulled away from her, Vicky nodded at him, her world blurred through her tears. “Please look after Flynn.”

  Serj nodded back, clearly unable to speak.

 
The hinges creaked as Brian opened the door, and before Vicky knew it, Dan and Sharon grabbed an arm each and shoved her out.

  Two steps through the long grass and Vicky fell forward. The pain of hitting the ground clattered through her knees and up her body.

  As she kneeled there, surrounded by tall grass, she looked at the ground and listened to the stampede close in on her. It drew closer and closer until it got to within a few metres and she looked up.

  “Piotr,” she gasped as she stared into the bleeding eyes of the large Russian man. Of course he would be the alpha.

  But it wasn’t Piotr. Piotr had left that body the second the virus took him over.

  The imposing form of the former guard dived down on Vicky, body slamming her and crushing the air from her lungs.

  Pain ripped from Vicky’s cheek. Excruciating fire radiated from the bite outwards.

  The ground shook as more diseased closed in. The press of bodies quickly blocked out the light around her and several spots on her form lit up as more of the fuckers bit into her.

  After a spike in her panic, the buzz of pain faded a little. Vicky’s heart rate slowed. The blood loss made her dizzy as she lay there. She refused to look back. She wouldn’t give the fuckers the satisfaction.

  Every blink lasted slightly longer than the one before it as she lost her bearings. The heat from the fever and the press of bodies lifted sweat on her brow. Her eyes burned and she saw the world through a red tint. She thought of Flynn. Of the boy she loved more than anything in this life. She thought about … Who? What? She … she couldn’t remember … The boy? His face. Rage swelled within her as if her blood boiled. She smelled the metallic reek of her spilled life force. Her blood. Their blood. The smell made her mouth water. She could almost taste it. Her teeth snapped together as she bit the air. She bit again, her pulse hammering. Where were they? Bite. She could smell them. Bite. She needed flesh. Bite …

  Ends.

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  The Alpha Plague - Book 7

  Email: subscribers@michaelrobertson.co.uk

  Edited by:

  Terri King - http://terri-king.wix.com/editing

  And

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  Cover Design by Christian Bentulan

  The Alpha Plague 7

  Michael Robertson

  © 2016 Michael Robertson

  The Alpha Plague 7 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.

  Prologue

  The letter shook in Flynn’s hand as he stared down at Vicky’s untidy handwriting. How could she leave him there on his own? Most days she wouldn’t let him walk around Home without breathing down his neck. It didn’t make sense. Or maybe he didn’t want to believe it made sense. Maybe he’d driven her away with his behaviour. He hadn’t exactly been kind to her.

  When Flynn stood up, he wobbled on his tired legs, the effects of sleep still with him. He bent down to pick his shoes up and stumbled when he tried to put one of them on. To prevent himself from falling over, he pressed his right hand against the wall, crushing Vicky’s letter against it in the process.

  After he’d slipped both of his shoes on, Flynn walked out of his room, leaving the door open behind him.

  The sound of the people in the canteen came at Flynn as he walked up the corridor. A wash of noise, the collective hum of conversation made each word spoken utterly indecipherable.

  Maybe all the people in the place had turned up for breakfast. Hard to tell because it somehow sounded much quieter than usual—not surprising considering how many had died on the battlefield. But had anyone other than Vicky decided to leave?

  Flynn entered the canteen, stopped, and looked at the diners. It already seemed like a waste of time. Although, as the communal area in the building, it had been the obvious place to come to. Maybe Vicky would still be there, and he could catch her before she left. She might have even changed her mind.

  Flynn looked at all the people eating. So few compared to what had been there before they went to war. An ache tugged on his throat and he swallowed it down; he couldn’t see Vicky. He’d been an idiot to think he might have.

  Although they talked, many people ate with bowed heads while the screens on the far wall showed the scores of diseased outside. It would be a while before they didn’t.

  If Flynn looked hard enough, he’d undoubtedly see people he knew in the diseased horde. He didn’t feel ready for that, and by the look of the people in the canteen, no one else did either.

  It took for Flynn to look down at the letter in his hand to see he’d crushed it completely in his balled fist. He clenched his jaw and breathed through his nose, inhaling the smell of boiled cabbage that accompanied every meal. What a moron he was to think Vicky would have changed her mind.

  Although he looked over the place, nobody looked up. Most seemed too lost in their own grief; everybody had lost someone. Then Brian lifted his head.

  Maybe Flynn should have stayed in his room, but now he’d entered the canteen, he couldn’t hold it back. “You!” he said as he pointed at the man and stormed over to him.

  The low level of conversation died down as Flynn weaved through the tables towards the bearded man. Contempt stared back at him when he got close.

  About ten metres between them and Flynn pointed at Brian again. “I hope you’re proud.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brian said with a laugh beneath his words and a sneer on his fat face.

  “Like you don’t know. You and your gang of cowards are the reason she’s gone.”

  Brian simply stared at Flynn.

  Fire rose beneath Flynn’s cheeks and he shook as he glared at the man. Sweat bled into the crushed ball of paper in his hand and his breathing sped up.

  The silence swelled through the place until Brian finally said, “You’re not making much sense, boy.”

  Tension snapped Flynn’s shoulders tight and dragged them up to his neck. “Don’t call me boy, you fat fuck. She’s gone. You know full well she’s gone.”

  Raised eyebrows and another laugh before Brian looked at Sharon and Dan. He then returned his attention to Flynn. “Who’s gone?”

  When Flynn shouted, the sound of it echoed through the large space. “Vicky, you moron!” He stepped closer so just a few metres separated them and clenched his fists so hard his forearms ached. “Vicky’s gone! Driven away by you and your band of cowards.”

  “We didn’t drive her away,” Sharon said.

  But Flynn ignored her and continued to address Brian. “She did more for you than you’ll ever know, and you drove her out of here.”

  Again, Brian said nothing.

  “I have no one now because of you.”

  At that moment Dan stood up. “We don’t have any children!”

  “That was Moira, not Vicky, you idiot.
”

  “You need to learn some respect, boy.” Dan moved closer to Flynn.

  Flynn stepped forward to meet him. He might have only been sixteen, but he stood a couple of inches taller than Dan and had far more battle experience.

  Just an inch separated their noses when Flynn said, “And you want to be the one to teach it to me, do you?”

  The silence seemed to suck the air from the room and Flynn felt everyone in the canteen watching them. He shifted another half an inch closer and felt Dan’s body heat against his face. He spoke in a low growl. “Well?”

  When someone grabbed Flynn from behind and spun him around, he raised his fist. The fight left him. “Serj?”

  Sadness sat in Serj’s deep brown eyes, his eyebrows raised in a pinch in the middle. “Come with me,” he said and tugged on Flynn’s arm again. He pulled him away from Dan.

  “Sit down, Dan,” Serj said.

  At first, Dan didn’t move. He simply stared at Serj, seemingly braver now the conflict looked less likely to happen.

  “Please?” the Indian man urged with a weary sigh. “We’ve had enough fighting to last us a lifetime.”

  Dan pointed at Flynn. “Tell him that.”

  Serj didn’t respond. Instead, he stared at Dan and Dan stared back before returning to his seat. He eyeballed Flynn as he sat down.

  Flynn couldn’t keep it in. “Oh, sure”—his loud voice carried through the canteen—“he’s brave now he’s been asked to sit down. Now Serj has diffused the situation, you’ve suddenly discovered your spine.”