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

by Michael Robertson

  Chapter 11

  Pains ran across Flynn’s back and he twisted his body to try to ease them. He’d been sat on his crappy bed for hours, staring at the floor with his head in his hands. He’d only gotten up when he needed to light another candle.

  The naked flame flickered and threw shadows around the room. He watched the movement for the longest time through unfocused eyes. What else could he do? He had to lock himself away from everyone else. Like Vicky had told him on more than one occasion, if he didn’t have anything nice to say …

  The community worked. Hard for Flynn to accept with the crooks running the show, but it worked. It benefitted the majority and he couldn’t be so selfish as to try to take that down because it didn’t benefit him.

  Besides, he had a good woman in Angelica. Someone he could make a life with. Also, Dan and Sharon had every right to be upset about their children, and Brian simply picked a side.

  Flynn would have been pissed if he’d found out one of those fuckers played a part in releasing the virus on the world. They didn’t love Vicky like he did, so why wouldn’t they kick her out?

  Even if Angelica didn’t want to leave with him, they could start a family in Home. The walls made it safe and they farmed enough food to sustain them indefinitely.

  Fuck knew how long had passed. Flynn sat up straight, rolled the aches from his shoulders again, and flipped his head from side to side, pushing his left ear to his left shoulder and then doing the same with the right. A twinge ran up each side of his back with the movement.

  Finally finding the impetus to move, Flynn got to his feet. It had been hours since the funeral. He needed to go see Angelica.

  When Flynn stepped out into the hallway, he got a better idea of the time of day from the natural spotlights shining down into the space. Not dark outside, but the fading light left a grey haze in the corridors. He’d spent most of the day inside. Many of Home’s residents would be in their rooms by now, including Angelica.

  As he walked along the dusty corridor to see his love, Flynn pulled his shoulders back and straightened his posture. He’d tell her everything, and if he cried, then so be it. She needed to know he’d killed Serj, and to understand why he found it hard to be around Brian, Dan, and Sharon. But he didn’t blame them. Well, he wouldn’t blame them with time, he just found it upsetting to be in their presence at the moment.

  Would Angelica think him a coward if he told her he’d left his best friend’s body to be feasted on by the rats? How would she be able to understand that decision without being there? He couldn’t have carried him back, and to leave him for any length of time was to give him over to them anyway. A shiver snapped through him to think of the hungry, little faces and the way they’d peered down through the hole at him.

  At least if Flynn explained himself, it would help her understand why he’d needed the day on his own. Why he’d walked off without an explanation.

  When he arrived at Angelica’s room, Flynn looked up and down the deserted corridor. In the short time it had taken him to get there, the natural spotlights had darkened a little more.

  A look at her door and Flynn saw where the paint had blistered away a long time ago. Like many of the doors and walls in home, the white glossy coat had come off to expose the wood beneath. Angelica had purposefully picked it away in the shape of a heart.

  Flynn smiled at it. At least he had her in his life still. He knocked, the loud rap running both ways up the corridor.

  The soft voice of his love whispered from the other side, “Come in.”

  One final breath to settle the nervous butterflies and Flynn entered the room. It didn’t matter if he cried in front of her. She’d seen it already, and he should be upset with everything that had happened.

  To see her standing in the middle of her room—her candles casting an orange glow over her beauty—lit Flynn up. The sadness of the day had slightly duller edges already, and he smiled at her radiance. “Angelica—”

  “Wait,” she replied, cutting him off.

  Flynn frowned at the turmoil he saw play out on her face. “Wait?”

  “Before you say anything,” she said, “I need to tell you something.”

  A chill ran from the top of Flynn’s head down as if ice had just been dumped on him. He’d felt the same chill when he’d read the letter from Vicky. The same chill when he’d watched his dad get dragged into the river. The same chill when he’d had to kill Serj. When he’d listened to the rats rush down to eat his friend. The chill that told him his life would change at that moment. He shook his head at her and the grief of the past few days rushed forward, wobbling his words. “Don’t say it, please.”

  A deep sigh and Angelica looked down at her feet while wringing her hands. “It’s not you.”

  “Fucking hell! After two years you’re going to use that bullshit line?”

  When she looked up again, she glared a resolve at Flynn that forced him back a couple of paces. It showed him her mind had been made up. Whatever they’d had, they didn’t have it anymore.

  “Okay,” she said and glared at him as she clearly let out her pain, “it is you. Mostly. I can see you have a lot of things inside you to work out. I can see how your parents dying, and then Vicky leaving, has fucked you up. And now, losing Serj on top of everything … that’s a lot to deal with. I can see how you have something wonderful inside you. Something great to give to the world, but you never give that to me. You never show me who you are. You never let yourself be vulnerable in front of me.”

  “What was last night, then?”

  “That was the first time, Flynn.” Her voice broke and her eyes glazed with tears. “You’re really hard to love.”

  Although Flynn wanted to reply, he didn’t.

  “You’re too distant. You’re removed from everything around you. At first I thought you were cool—mysterious even—but after two years, you’ve barely let me past the surface. I need more from a relationship.”

  After he’d shot a puff of air through his pursed lips, Flynn said, “And to think I was coming here to open up to you.”

  “By spending the day locked in your room? Besides, this isn’t about today, or now. This is about two years of neglect. Now is far too little far too late. I can’t be in a relationship with you, Flynn. I need something more from the person I love.”

  Flynn opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “I was waiting in your room when you got back from going out with Serj because I wanted to finish it with you then. But I couldn’t, not with the state you were in.”

  The entire room spun and Flynn moved over to lean against a wall as he looked at his love. His heart kicked like it would burst through his chest and his body temperature rose. The lump in his throat solidified as a tumour from a lifetime of devastated relationships. And then he saw it. Something in her eyes. Sadness, sure, but he saw something else. Guilt … betrayal. Nausea turned over in his stomach. “It’s Larry, isn’t it?”

  Instantly on the defensive, Angelica jabbed a finger at Flynn. “Don’t you dare blame Larry for this.”

  She looked like she wanted to say more, but he’d heard enough. Flynn shook his head. “Fuck you,” he said through clenched teeth. “Fuck you and Larry. I hope you’re fucking miserable for the rest of your pathetic fucking lives.”

  Maybe he wanted a response. It would have been something to see his words hurt her, but she didn’t give it to him. Instead, she stared at him, the glaze of tears gone.

  Flynn turned around and left her room. He slammed her door so hard it rang through the entire complex and kicked up a dust storm in the grimy corridor. Fuck her and Larry. Fuck everyone in Home. He didn’t need them anymore.

  Chapter 12

  The vents in the hallway let the sound of night down into Home’s corridors but did little to illuminate the empty walkway. Bugs and birds called down to Flynn as he walked with a lit candle from his room. He cupped his hand in front of it to prevent it from blowing out.

  As he made his w
ay down the corridor, Flynn rolled his shoulders to adjust the pack on his back. Yet to be filled, it still didn’t fit as comfortably as he’d like. The straps had snapped so many times he had at least three knots tied into each one. Each knot found a different point around his shoulders and back to press into.

  A metre or two around Flynn lit up from the candle’s flickering flame. Beyond that, everywhere fell into darkness. It sounded clear, but for all he knew, someone could be watching him at that moment. They could see the large knife attached to his hip. Maybe understand the intention of his late night wanderings.

  Although very few people walked the corridors at night, so he couldn’t worry about it. But what if someone saw the light through the bottom of their door? A community full of people had to have a few insomniacs. Fuck it, he couldn’t think about it.

  When Flynn arrived at the room, he stopped and stared at the door. His heart sped up, pounding so hard he could almost hear it. Quicker breaths than before, his throat dried. Once he stepped into the room, there would be no going back.

  A deep breath and Flynn pulled his long knife from his belt. He then unhooked the few lengths of rope that hung down from his backpack, rolled his shoulders one last time, and opened Brian’s door as quietly as he could.

  Chapter 13

  The fat fucker snored as he lay in his bed, oblivious to Flynn standing over him.

  For a few seconds, Flynn simply stood there and watched the prick breathe. He could force the tip of his knife hard into Brian’s eyeball and end everything there and then. He’d done it a thousand times with the diseased. Although, if he did that, he’d take away all the fun.

  Instead, Flynn put his candle down on the side and properly took in the man’s room. The paint fell from the walls like it did everywhere else, but most of the walls were covered by bookshelves. The bed lay in the middle, and a huge chair had been placed in each of the two corners farthest away from the door. They looked like thrones. Especially as they were a luxury very few others in the community had.

  A shake of his head and Flynn got to work. As gently as he could, he unwound one of the lengths of rope and lay it over Brian’s barrel chest. He dropped the rope down the other side of the man, hunched down and fished it back under the bed.

  Once Flynn had looped the rope around the bed and had it ready to tie, he repeated the process with another rope across Brian’s middle. One would tie the top of his arms down and the other one the bottom. If he could disable his reach, he could overpower him.

  When he had both ropes ready to pull tight, Flynn sat down on the floor next to the fat and bearded man, drew a deep breath, and pulled hard on the one running across his chest, pressing his feet against the bed frame to give him more tug.

  It pinned Brian to the bed and woke him with a heavy gasp as it crushed the air from his lungs.

  Although Brian’s eyes flashed open, he didn’t have time to react before Flynn tied a quick knot in the rope and tugged the next one to pin the bottom of his arms to the bed.

  Awake enough to realise what had been done to him, Brian looked at Flynn. “You little fucker—”

  He stopped short and his eyes spread wide when Flynn stood up and waved his knife at him.

  “W-what are you going to do?”

  Flynn said nothing. Instead, he used a third length of rope to tie Brian’s legs to the bed. A glance at Brian and he could see the man looked like he wanted to fight, but another wave of his eight-inch knife quickly encouraged him to let go of his rage.

  For the next two minutes or so, Flynn let the silence hang and paced up and down in Brian’s room. He listened to the fat fuck breathe on the edge of a panic attack before he finally spoke. “So Serj told me what actually happened to Vicky. He said it wasn’t fair for me to think she’d walked out when she’d been forced out.”

  Red-faced and breathing heavily, Brian spat as he spoke. “She couldn’t stay here.”

  “That makes sense,” Flynn said and let the silence hang again as he leaned over Brian and rested the sharp tip of his blade against the man’s sweating cheek. “I can see how she had to leave.”

  “We had to give her the same treatment everybody else had when they were evicted. We couldn’t risk her coming back.”

  “And there it is,” Flynn said as he stood up straight again. “You killed her, Brian. I mean, you had to, right? And that’s how you justify it to yourself. How you manage to sleep at night.” He turned the knife so the flickering light bounced off its polished blade, and said, “Once you’ve had a fallout with someone, once you’ve gone past the point of no return, you have to follow through and kill them. There’s no way back from that, eh?”

  “She set the plague loose, Flynn. Besides, I wasn’t the only one. Sharon and Dan wanted it too.”

  “Don’t you worry about Sharon and Dan anymore.”

  “You’ve been to them already?”

  “Two for the price of one, you fat fuck. Of course I went there first.”

  A single tear ran down Brian’s red face and he shook his head. “Please, Flynn, please don’t hurt me.”

  “Crocodile tears don’t sit well with me, you know? You fucked her over, Brian, and you have to pay for that. That’s how it works, isn’t it?” Flynn rested the tip of his blade on Brian’s cheek again, this time a little closer to his wide eye. “An eye for an eye and all that, right?”

  “But—”

  Flynn silenced the fat man with a raised hand. He then rubbed his temples as if fending off a headache. “Your voice grates, Brian.”

  “But—”

  “SHUT UP!”

  Brian flinched away from Flynn’s rage.

  After a quick scan of his room, Flynn saw Brian’s socks on the floor and he picked one of them up in a pinch. “My god, man, what the fuck’s wrong with you? These socks are fucking disgusting!”

  When Brian opened his mouth to respond, Flynn cut him off. “You don’t need to answer that. I’m simply telling you you’re disgusting. Worse than an animal. Worse than a diseased. And you know how easily I dispatched them, don’t you?”

  A look at the bookshelves and Flynn said, “A man is not great because of the books he owns. I wouldn’t mind betting you’ve not read any of these.”

  Before Brian could say anything else, Flynn stuffed the sock in his fat mouth, jamming it in so hard the man heaved from either the taste of his own filth or from the fabric of the sock pressing against his gag reflex.

  Another piece of rope, shorter than the others, and Flynn wrapped it around Brian’s face, tying it so tight it cut into his fat jowls. “Your head’s like a fucking pork joint. You disgust me.”

  Flynn spoke more to the knife than he did Brian at that moment, staring at the blade, mesmerised by the way the light danced along it. “Since before even Vicky left, I’ve dreamt of this moment. My chance to skin you. I’ve had practice with the wild animals we’ve caught, but I think it might be a bit messy still. I’m certainly no expert.” A look at Brian and he grinned. “Hopefully it’ll fucking hurt.”

  Although Brian screamed and writhed, the sock muffled most of his words. However, every time the fat fuck shifted on the bed, its metal frame groaned in protest.

  Flynn looked down at the bed for a second before he said, “I’d shut up if I were you, fat man. Think of it like the fair. Scream if you want to go faster. That’s what they used to say at the fair, right? I was six the last time I went, so I can’t remember.”

  Brian watched Flynn through a confused frown and didn’t answer.

  “You’re right.” Flynn laughed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Scream if you want more pain. How does that sound? It’s not quite right, is it?”

  Tears ran freely from the fat fuck’s eyes and he trembled where he lay. Flynn clicked his fingers and laughed. “I’ve got it!” He pressed the tip of the knife into Brian’s gut and said, “Scream if you want to go deeper. How’s that?”

  It looked like Brian had left the room; his disgusting body remained,
but his eyes were glazed as if he’d retreated to a safer place.

  “Serj said something else to me before he died, you know?”

  Again, nothing from Brian.

  “He told me anger’s like a hot coal. And I’ve thought about that. I’ve thought long and hard. I think he’s right; anger is like a hot coal. Throw it at someone and you get burned, right?”

  Brian nodded furiously.

  “But!” Flynn said and wagged his right index finger at Brian. “It’s also a fuel. Coal, I mean. It fuels a lot of things. Like the desire to stick a fat fuck with a knife. With just one coal and a lot of patience, you can set fire to the world.”

  Flynn stuck the first centimetre of his blade into the top of Brian’s right thigh. He watched the man shake his head and turn even redder. He watched his fat jaw bite down on his filthy sock. He watched him cry like a small child and he laughed harder than he’d laughed in years. A slow twist of the blade and he said, “That’s it, Brian, scream if you want to go deeper.”

  Chapter 14

  Flynn hunched down in the darkness of Home’s barn, his hands shaking with his urgency. He needed to get the pack loaded up and get the fuck out of there before anyone found out what he’d done. Unless he got unlucky, he should be good ’til morning, but by then he needed to be as far away from Home as possible.

  Because he had to remain hidden, Flynn worked without light, pulling peppers, cucumbers, and tomatoes from their piles and stuffing them into his bag. In the short walk from Home to the barn, he’d seen the moon hung as no more than a fingernail in the sky. Sure it gave him the shadows to hide in, but it did little to help him see, even with the barn’s door left wide open.