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

by Michael Robertson

  “What made him break his promise?”

  “He died.”

  “Fuck!”

  “He wanted me to know Vicky didn’t abandon me. A decade on and I was still so angry with her. I think he wanted to help me get over it. The thing is the people who killed her run Home. I couldn’t stay there. Especially as I’d just split up with my girlfriend.”

  “Fucking hell,” Rose said. “That’s rough.”

  Flynn nodded. “Yeah, but everyone’s had it hard, haven’t they? That’s what life is now.”

  “I suppose.”

  “And what about you? I’ll be honest, you sounded fucking mental when you said everything’s worked out because we’re together.” A shock of pain ran up both of Flynn’s wrists when he twisted them again and he pulled a breath in through his clenched teeth.

  “I was born to a heroin-addicted mother and came out of the womb with a habit,” Rose said. “I was just two when the disease broke out. My mum hadn’t gotten clean yet. Within five minutes of the disease spreading, my dad had turned into one of those things. He left a junkie and her kid all alone, not that he would have been any help anyway. He was better to us as a creature. At least it gave us the impetus to leave him.”

  Flynn let her continue.

  “We lived in a basement for about six years. The only daylight I saw came through the crack in a wooden door. I would press my face against it for hours on end just so I could imagine what it would be like to live outside. We started with twelve of us down there. By the time we left, just Mum and I remained.”

  A cheer came from the dining hall and Flynn flinched, spinning around to look over at the barn. No one came out. He continued to wring his wrists. They had to get out of there before the Queen decided they were done.

  “There were still diseased about, as you know,” Rose said. “But far fewer than before. The communities that remained knew how to survive. A community took us in. And things were great for the longest time. But my community—as good as they were at being self-sufficient—weren’t fighters. When there were no more diseased to fight, people started hunting people. About a year ago, our community was overrun. They killed all the men in the place and ate them”—Rose looked at the ground and spoke in a quieter voice—“in front of us. They took the women away with them.”

  Several deep breaths and Rose looked out over the royal complex. Her deep brown eyes glazed as she stared over the farmland and the high fence. “Before they could do anything to me or Mum, Mum attacked them and told me to run. I did. I ran and I didn’t look back.”

  “So why are you still so hopeful we’ll be okay? Especially with all the fucked-up shit you’ve witnessed.”

  “Because I’m still alive. We’re still alive. In spite of everything, we’re still here. I miss my mum every single day, but I’m not dead yet. I’ve had impossible situations and walked away from them, so why can’t we do it again?”

  Maybe she had a point. Another cheer came from the barn and Flynn doubled his efforts, grimacing through the pain in his wrists as he continued to twist and turn them. Maybe she had a point.

  Chapter 68

  Flynn did his best to hide away from the next stoning. He pulled his shoulders up and arched his back towards the people below. But the rocks came at him from every direction, and with his hands tied to the floor of the cage, he could only do so much to protect himself.

  Although a lot of the projectiles hit him, many more didn’t. They clattered into the bars of the cage and the base of it. The insults came as freely as the missiles.

  “Scumbags.”

  “Fuckers.”

  “Traitors.”

  “Rats.”

  Every ten seconds or so, one of the rocks crashed into Flynn’s head. It spun his entire world and it felt like the next one would knock him out.

  Impossible for Flynn to tell because of his restricted movement, but it felt like cuts had opened up all over his body.

  “Okay!” the Queen called and the stoning stopped. “It’s dinnertime; let’s leave them for a while.”

  Although Flynn listened to her cruel voice, he didn’t look down at her. No way would he give the bitch the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. No fucking way.

  “We’ll come back tomorrow,” the Queen said. “We need to be careful we don’t kill them. We don’t want to give them that relief too early.” The people around the Queen laughed.

  Flynn remained hunched over and listened to everyone walk away. When he sensed that most, if not all, of the people had entered the barn, he looked up at Rose. “Are you okay?”

  Blood ran down her face from a deep gash on her forehead. She winced and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. A bit sore, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  “This can’t go on,” Flynn said. “We won’t last many more stonings.” He looked over at the barn. The doors were closed, but Mistress stood on the outside. It looked like everyone else had gone in. “I wonder what she’s doing?” he said.

  Rose looked over too but didn’t respond.

  The ropes around Flynn’s wrists had more give now than ever, his hands slick with blood and sweat. The deep cuts he’d burned into them were on fire like red ants crawled beneath his skin. A look at Rose and he said, “I think this will be our best opportunity.”

  Flynn clenched his jaw and pulled against his bonds. Damn near blinding pain sent bright flashes through his vision. It felt like shaving the skin from his hands as he tugged again, harder than before. But he had to be brave. They had to get out of there.

  Sweat ran into Flynn’s sore eyes, but he continued to pull and pull against his bonds. He shook as he held onto his need to cry out and his hands slipped up a little way, then a little way more, then … Suddenly he pulled himself free.

  Flynn lifted his hands and looked at the cuts to his skin. Blood ran down his forearms and two bangle-like flaps had lifted away around his wrists. They ran so deep he’d probably see the bone if he tried. He didn’t want to try.

  What little feeling Flynn had left in his hands enabled him to pull on Rose’s ropes, clumsy as he shook and bled over them.

  After a minute or two, he’d worked the rope free.

  Rose pulled her hands out, wrapped Flynn in a tight hug, kissed him on the cheek, and quickly put her hands back to the base of the cage. They couldn’t risk Mistress seeing them.

  Chapter 69

  Much more subtle in her movements the second time, Rose lifted both of Flynn’s hands. His heart rate sped, and he did his best to hold onto his quickened breaths.

  Gently, as if lifting an injured butterfly, she frowned like his wounds were her own. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to do this to yourself.”

  Rose then lifted the bottom of her shirt up to her mouth. Not the first time Flynn had seen her pert breasts, and maybe he shouldn’t have looked. For the briefest moment he forgot his pain.

  Her actions suddenly became clear when Rose bit a tear into the fabric at the bottom of her shirt and tore a strip free. The sound made both of them look over at Mistress, who seemed oblivious to what they were doing.

  Rose clamped her top teeth on her bottom lip, all of her focus seemingly on Flynn’s hands as she wrapped his right wrist in her makeshift bandage.

  Although she pulled it tight and the pain sent Flynn slightly woozy, he let her continue. It felt like the correct thing to do.

  Once Rose had finished with his right wrist, she did the same with his left.

  Flynn glanced back at Mistress again. They were far enough away to be invisible to her. As long as they didn’t make any sudden movements to attract her attention, they’d be fine.

  “This’ll help keep them free from infection,” Rose said as she held onto his two bound wrists. They were wrapped from his forearm to his palm.

  Rose lowered his hands and Flynn reciprocated in the only way he could think of. He reached up and wiped the blood away from the wound on her head.

  The pair stared at one another as Flynn tucked her
long blonde hair behind her ear.

  It took for the hinges creaking on the barn door to break them out of it. They both turned to watch Mistress vanish inside.

  “Right,” Flynn said. “This is our chance.”

  Chapter 70

  The cage hadn’t seemed very sturdy at any point. More a prison because their hands were tied to the floor than because of its strong design. One of the wooden bars behind Flynn had several deep chips gouged into it from the stones that had been launched at them. He spun around so he had his back to Rose, lifted his right foot, and kicked out.

  Two bars flew away from Flynn’s very first kick, the wood falling to the ground with a clatter. Fuck knew if anyone heard it or not, but they couldn’t worry about that now. They had to get out of there.

  Despite the pain in his wrists, Flynn lay on his front, dropped his legs through the gap he’d just made, and eased himself out until he hung down from the cage. It left him just a couple of metres to fall.

  The second Flynn hit the ground, he crumpled into a heap. His right foot turned beneath him from where he landed on a small rock.

  Although Flynn’s ankle hurt, he hadn’t broken anything. He stood up and watched Rose hang down like he had and used his feet to sweep her landing area clear of the large stones.

  Rose landed with the grace of a cat.

  After he’d checked she was okay, Flynn turned and headed for the barn.

  “What are you doing?” Rose said.

  “I can’t let them attack Home. Especially since I’ve seen what they do to the communities they raid. That can’t happen.” He didn’t look around to see if Rose followed him or not. She had to make her own decision.

  On his way to the barn door, Flynn picked up a pitchfork from a nearby stack of hay. When he heard the rattle of someone opening the door from the inside, he quickened his pace and pressed his back to the wooden wall of the barn just next to the entrance. A second later, Rose caught up and moved next to him.

  The tall form of Mistress emerged from the barn and she closed the door behind herself again.

  Hatred drove away any pain Flynn felt in his wrists and hands. He gripped the shaft of the pitchfork tightly.

  Mistress must have seen the empty cage, because her mouth fell wide open and she spun around to re-enter the barn. But she never made it. Flynn put all his effort into driving the sharp prongs of the tool up through the bottom of her chin.

  The power Flynn drove the fork with forced two of the three prongs out of the top of Mistress’ head with a wet crack. The impaling drove her tongue from her mouth and switched her off instantly.

  As the large woman fell forward, Flynn let go of his tool, jumped aside, and watched both of them clatter into the barn’s doors before they fell to the ground.

  The sound called through the quiet complex and Flynn’s heart beat double time. He stared at the barn door and waited for the people to rush out of it.

  Chapter 71

  About twenty seconds passed where Flynn stood waiting for the assault. But no one came out. They must have heard the noise. Maybe they assumed Mistress made it and there was nothing to worry about. He looked down at her slumped corpse.

  Flynn pulled the fork out of Mistress. The spikes came free with a wet schlop. He wedged the weapon through the handles on the barn’s doors and stepped back. It wouldn’t hold them for long.

  The trailer they’d taken from the community they last raided sat nearby. After Flynn had dragged Mistress’ body away from the doors, he turned to Rose and said, “Come on,” before running over to it.

  Together, they moved the cart close to the barn, Flynn leading the way. He purposefully dragged it so it ran across the doors, but he’d left about a metre gap between the trailer and the barn.

  “What are you doing?” Rose asked.

  No time to explain, Flynn tilted the empty cart onto its side so it toppled against the barn. It made an almighty clatter, but fell so the flat bed of it lay flush with the barn’s exit. The wheels pointed outwards, the top two still turning.

  Out of breath from the effort of tipping the trailer, Flynn said, “It’ll be much harder to get out with it like that. And it’s the only exit from the barn.”

  The first bang clattered into the other side of the doors, and Flynn watched on with his heart in his mouth. Another loud bang and the cart still didn’t budge.

  A marching band of thuds on the other side and still the cart held. The people in the barn yelled and screamed. So many voices, Flynn couldn’t make sense of any of them.

  As he stood there with Rose next to him, Flynn ran a hand over the top of his head. “We have to do something more than this. Given time, they’ll get out of there.”

  “Shouldn’t we just run?” Rose said.

  “We can’t let the Queen walk away from this.”

  Rose bounced on the balls of her feet, clearly not convinced by Flynn’s plan. “Then what shall we do?”

  A look at the hay he’d taken the fork from, and Flynn said, “We need to stack that around the base of the barn.”

  Although Rose looked like she’d reply, she paused and followed Flynn’s line of sight. He looked at the hut the community used to cook food in. It stood empty, a fire clearly still lit inside because smoke rose from the chimney.

  Chapter 72

  The next five minutes seemed to last forever as Flynn and Rose moved several large mounds of hay around the base of the barn. Flynn’s breaths came so quickly, he had to stop a couple of times to fend off the panic that rose inside him and threatened to choke him off. The people inside attacked the door with what sounded like everything they had.

  They placed most of the hay on the cart, but Flynn made sure they laid it out all the way around the large wooden structure. He’d seen Rose’s apprehension in her movements, but she helped nonetheless. “I don’t expect you to start the fire, you know,” he said. “I remember what you said about the Queen forcing you to burn your community, but it needs to be done, so I’ll do it.”

  Rose nodded at him, but she didn’t speak.

  Slick with sweat, everything either aching or stinging, Flynn found a shovel, ran over to the kitchen’s stove, and shovelled out a mound of white-hot wood from it. The tradition to make sure everyone ate together probably now seemed like a bad idea to the Queen inside.

  The people in the barn continued to bang and shout. Maybe some of them didn’t deserve this, but how could Flynn tell? Even if they weren’t the Queen, they’d given her permission to behave in the way she had. They’d enjoyed her cruelty, and he’d seen them be equally as cruel. The world wouldn’t mourn their passing.

  It made it easier to follow through when Flynn listened to their panic turning into threats. The insults they’d thrown at them when they stoned them in the cage came flooding back.

  As hard as Flynn listened, he couldn’t hear the Queen. She probably wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making a sound.

  Back at the barn’s door, Flynn held the shovel over the stack of hay on the cart. Just before he dropped it on, he looked at Rose. Although she didn’t say anything, she stared at the white-hot wood. A deep frown crushed her face as if she fended off the sadness of what she’d had to do in her old community.

  For the next few seconds they stood like that before Flynn yelled out and threw the shovel with the burning wood away from him. “For fuck’s sake. I want to do it. You know I want to do it. But—”

  “Not everyone inside that barn deserves to die.”

  Flynn sank as he sighed.

  A few short steps and Rose closed the distance between them, put her hand on Flynn’s forearm, and stared at him. “You’re a good man.”

  “By keeping those fucks in there alive?”

  “Yes.”

  All the while they stood there, the people inside continued to scream and shout. Flynn finally said, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 73

  Even after they’d walked for hours, the first signs of nig
ht dimming the summer sky around them, Flynn still looked behind to check for pursuers. “Do you think they’ve made it out yet?”

  “I hope not,” Rose said and looked behind too, the wind tossing her fine hair.

  “And do you think the horses will be okay?” They’d set all of them loose before they’d left. Neither of them liked the idea of learning to ride.

  “Yeah, the community needed the horses much more than the horses needed them.”

  Flynn turned back to where they’d been looking. Far enough away they wouldn’t be seen, especially in amongst the long grass, but close enough for him to see the people clearly.

  “It’s like I was never there,” Flynn said as he watched the residents of Home pack up for the day. When he saw Brian, Sharon, and Dan, he shook his head. “I hated those fuckers. See those three, the ones walking around like they own the place. They were the ones who killed Vicky.”

  Rose let him speak.

  “Before I left, I tied each of them to their bed and gagged them. I pretended like I was going to kill them.” Flynn smiled slightly at the thought. “To see Brian piss himself was enough. Killing him wouldn’t bring Vicky back.”

  To watch Home now, Flynn said, “Maybe I had a lucky break.” Then he saw Angelica. She walked through the place, holding hands with Larry. A bitter taste rose in his mouth for a moment, but he swallowed it down. Maybe she’d done him a favour. He might have stayed if she hadn’t called it off.

  A look at Rose and Flynn took in her natural beauty. A kind face and deep brown eyes, she had a wisdom well beyond either of their years. “It’s only been a short time since I left,” he said, “but I feel like Home was a lifetime ago. Like a different me lived there.”