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

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The Alpha Plague - Books 1 - 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Action Thriller Page 122

by Michael Robertson


  A response of sorts, Rose nodded at Flynn’s words. They’d already agreed on their course of action. It made sense to mobilise a force against the Queen, and the prisoners seemed like the perfect candidates to be a part of that force.

  The stress of their time beneath the bridge with the crumbling riverbank had given Flynn pains in his chest. He drew a deep breath in an attempt to ease the tight twist in his upper body, but it did little to relieve it. “How will we persuade the Queen’s prisoners to join us in attacking her? What if they just want to run?”

  “I don’t know,” Rose said. “I wouldn’t blame them if they did. I suppose we should cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Before Flynn could reply, a shrill and tongue-rolling call rang out over the meadow. The sound of it turned his blood cold and gooseflesh ran up his arms. When he looked to his left in the direction of the noise, he saw them. About ten in total, they ran straight at them. “Nomads!” he called out, and took off at a sprint.

  As they ran, Flynn looked behind at the pack giving chase. He then saw the others burst from the tree line they’d just come through and join their friends. The pack had re-formed. About twenty in total. So much for losing them.

  Only slightly quicker than Rose, Flynn had to make a choice. They were heading in the direction of the abandoned town. The rats would be out in force. Anyone in the town at night would be fair game. It meant it would be as dangerous for the nomads as it would for Flynn and Rose. And the nomads would draw much more attention to themselves. Not a good option, but maybe the best they had.

  The nomads had spread out behind them. A wide line, they hunted as a pack. Soon it would be too dark to keep running. They might have been faster than the nomads, but they had no chance against them at night over uneven ground.

  Flynn’s feet twisted and turned with almost every step. Even when they could see, it would just be a matter of time before one of them fell.

  Fighting for breath, Flynn’s wrists were on fire as his sweat ran into his wounds. He focused on the town to take his mind off it and the tattoo of footsteps behind.

  The old road into town remained littered with the shells of abandoned vehicles. In the rapidly fading light, it gave them a path to follow, so Flynn headed for it. Still possible to trip, but because it had once had an asphalt surface, it would be a better route than the lumpy earth they currently ran over.

  Flynn checked behind again. Rose remained at his shoulder, letting him lead the way. The nomads were falling back slightly.

  Maybe the amount of times Flynn had visited the town in the past worked in his favour. As the phallic wreck of the dominant office block got closer, he grew in confidence. He found his rhythm with his breaths and pushed on. When they got into the built-up area, they could hide … if the rats let them, that is.

  Chapter 4

  The slap of Flynn’s and Rose’s feet echoed beneath the old railway bridge as they entered the town. It amplified the sound of their breathing and gave the pursuing nomads something to chase.

  Although Flynn ached with the effort of the run—his lungs ready to burst, his legs weak with every step—he pushed on. A glance back and he couldn’t see the nomads. They were on their tail still, but maybe they could give them the slip now they’d entered the rats’ domain.

  The first building they came to—the one Vicky always referred to when she talked about the diseased chasing her—seemed like the best place to enter. Flynn ran straight for it and jumped through the space where a window had been on the ground floor.

  The darkness of the office block bordered on complete, night having well and truly settled in outside. But Flynn quickly adjusted to the poor visibility, and weaved through the downed office chairs and cracked desks as if he knew the place intimately. Something about being chased had heightened his senses.

  The building stank of dust and rot, and Flynn inhaled the reek of decomposition all around him, but he pushed forward, dragging the stagnant air into his flagging body.

  The sound of Rose followed him, but he dared not turn around. To take his eyes from his path would undoubtedly make him fall over something. As long as he could hear her, he didn’t need to worry. She was more than capable of looking after herself. If he gave her something to follow, they’d get through this.

  When Flynn hit the double doors at the end of the ground floor, he knocked one open wide and the other one clean off its hinges, sending it clattering against the stairs on the other side before it fell to the ground with a slap. As he continued running, he heard the nomads enter the town behind them, their thunderous stampede amplified by the railway bridge as they charged beneath it.

  Instead of hiding in the first building, Flynn ran straight out of the office block into the one next door. Again, Rose followed his mazy path as he zigzagged through the wreck of a life now twenty years forgotten. Serj had called it a cubicle existence. It looked like it had been even more depressing than a world inhabited by the diseased.

  After he’d run through the scattering of broken desks, chairs, and computers, Flynn reached a hole where a window had been and vaulted through the space.

  He charged straight into an old restaurant next door, Rose following him every step of the way.

  There were more tables scattered through the restaurant than there had been desks in the offices. Flynn twisted and turned through the much tighter path, his sharp changes of direction threatening his weak legs.

  But he reached the doors on the other side of the abandoned eatery and burst through them into the street beyond. He stumbled, but just managed to keep his balance. A second later, Rose ran out behind him.

  Flynn crossed what used to be a road and entered the old pedestrianised area in the high street. The sound of the nomads had died down—maybe they were all searching the first building; maybe they moved soundlessly and were right on their tail. Regardless, they needed to find somewhere to hide. They couldn’t run forever.

  At the same pace he’d moved at since the nomads had given chase, Flynn headed for the old Wilkinson’s shop. The largest building on the high street, it had to be the best place to hide.

  Out of breath and sweating, his wrist wounds throbbing with the salty sting of his perspiration, Flynn entered the huge building with Rose still close behind.

  The pair of them ran through the old, empty shelves, the shop picked clean from years of scavenging.

  When Flynn got to the darkness of the storeroom at the back, he ran in and found a shadowy corner. Rose caught up to him and they huddled together, both fighting to get their breath under control as they crouched down.

  Shoulder to shoulder, Flynn and Rose listened for the sounds of the nomads out in the high street.

  It took a few seconds before Rose said, “Do you think we’ve lost them?”

  Flynn fought to catch his breath. “I hope so.”

  Chapter 5

  God knew how long had passed. Long enough for Flynn to recover his breath and for his tired limbs to turn to lead. If he needed to run again, he might not have it in him.

  Although she crouched next to him, still shoulder to shoulder, Flynn couldn’t see Rose as anything more than a silhouette because of the darkness. The heat of the run had left him, and the coolness of the evening lay against his sweating skin. It helped to have the warm press of her body next to his.

  A constant angry buzz ran through the cuts on Flynn’s wrists. They hurt without any stimulation, but after sweating into them all day, they burned as if he had red ants between the bandages and his wounds. The rags were so filthy they probably did more harm than good, but it wouldn’t do to take them off now; he couldn’t care for what he couldn’t see. They’d have to re-dress them in the morning.

  Although not total darkness in the storeroom, Flynn could only see his surroundings as blocky shadows. Shelves, tables, and upturned boxes all existed as shapes and nothing more. The only light came from the doorway leading to the shop, where the weak moon shone in through the front.
/>   Just as Flynn drew a breath to speak, the sound of people outside took the words from his mouth. He felt Rose snap rigid next to him and jumped at her sharp movement. “Shit,” he whispered, “I thought we’d lost them.” He knew it to be the nomads because a series of clicks and whistles ran through the night instead of voices. They could speak, he’d heard them speak, but it would seem they went more basic than that when on the hunt.

  “Are they in the shop?” Rose whispered back.

  “I don’t know.” Flynn shook as his fatigue mixed with fear-driven adrenaline. “It doesn’t sound like it. Maybe we’ll be okay if we stay here. They can’t search everywhere, right?”

  But Rose didn’t reply. Instead, she snapped her head in a different direction and pushed against Flynn as if trying to shift away from something, something in the room with them.

  When Flynn looked around the storeroom, he couldn’t see what it could be, and then the shadowed area around them moved. A large part of what he’d perceived as abandoned furniture shifted, closing in on them.

  A pair of eyes opened and stood out from the darkness. Just one person at first. Then more around it glowed into existence.

  The small crowd of little people shifted forwards again. Maybe ten, maybe more, they were a pack ready to pounce.

  Flynn stared at the closest rat, and the rat stared at him. The army behind it clearly stood ready to follow its lead.

  Chapter 6

  The clicks and whistles of the nomads in the high street grew louder. The heads of the rats turned in the direction of the sound before they snapped back to look at Flynn and Rose. They moved as if of the same mind.

  The shadows shuffled in front of them again and more rats stepped forward. More pairs of eyes popped from the darkness. More pairs of feet scraped over the dusty ground. Even with the poor visibility, Flynn saw the hunger in their haunted and hollow stares.

  If Flynn had to pick a fight against one of the groups, it would have to be the rats. Maybe he could lunge at the leader and cave its little skull in. An act of brutality that would make the others back off. Or would it enrage them and make the pack swarm him and Rose? Either way, whichever group they fought, they’d be lucky to walk away afterwards.

  Maybe if Flynn made enough noise, he could draw the nomads in and make them and the rats fight. Both groups would present a larger threat to one another than he and Rose would to either.

  Before Flynn could do anything, Rose pushed harder against him as if spooked by something else. When he listened, he heard the sound of people entering the shop.

  The rats seemed to hear it at the same time. The blinking and hungry eyes all turned in the same direction again, looking through the doorway towards the noise. It clearly rattled them. As one they withdrew into the shadows, closing their eyes as they melted back into the darkness.

  Flynn shifted forward and peered through the storeroom’s doorway into the shop. Nearly as little visibility outside the storeroom as in it, the front windows let in the smallest amount of moonlight. It allowed him to see a little more clearly.

  Not that Flynn needed to see to track the nomads. They moved like bears ransacking bins. Crashes and bangs as they worked their way through the abandoned space, they turned over furniture and shoved obstructions aside. As long as they stayed in the shop and didn’t head for the storeroom, everything would be fine.

  Wishful thinking.

  Tension wound through Flynn as the sounds drew closer to them. He moved back until he pressed against Rose again. For a short time, he listened to her quickened breaths before he said, “We might need to fight them. If we can take the few out who have come into the shop, it’ll reduce the overall numbers. If they’ve all split up, we might end up facing small groups of three or four at a time. We can beat that.”

  Although Rose didn’t reply, Flynn felt her nodding.

  The sound of the nomads drew closer and Flynn clenched his fists, his wrists buzzing. He stepped forward again and peered through the doorway.

  Flynn froze as he watched the silhouettes of four adults. What little energy he thought he had drained from his body. No way would he and Rose take them down in their current state. Even four would be too many.

  The silhouettes continued to turn shelves and furniture over, and they continued to make their way towards the storeroom.

  But they’d have to try to fight them. They couldn’t do anything else. A deep breath to settle his pulse, Flynn studied the silhouettes. It looked like four men, but he couldn’t be certain. Regardless, they’d beat him and Rose in a fight.

  The four nomads drew closer until they were just a few metres away. But then a whistle rang through the shop from outside. They halted and all turned to face the direction of the sound. One of them whistled back. Another whistle responded. As one, the four nomads took off and ran back towards the high street.

  After he’d listened to them run out of the shop, Flynn looked at where the rats had been. He couldn’t see anything.

  “Do you think they’ve all gone?” Rose said.

  A shrug at her, Flynn said, “I hope so. I’m not sure I’ve got a fight in me if they haven’t.”

  Chapter 7

  At least half an hour had passed since they’d seen or heard anything. As much as Flynn appreciated the warm press of Rose’s body against his, he said, “I think we should make a move.”

  Although Rose didn’t speak, he again felt her nod in agreement with him.

  The darkness of the storeroom equipped Flynn well for dealing with the abandoned store beyond. Still dark, the open front of the shop where the windows had previously been let in enough moonlight to help them navigate the overturned shelves and discarded furniture.

  They walked a slow path. It felt like the crunch of their feet over the dirty ground was the only sound in the entire town. Hopefully neither the nomads nor the rats had set a trap for them. He hoped even more that the nomads had left.

  Now he’d pulled away from Rose and her body heat, Flynn shivered. In just a T-shirt and joggers—his bottom still damp from where they’d sat beneath the bridge—the cold of the night bit into him. His wrists burned worse than ever and he could feel the infection spreading through them. Tendrils of pain ran up his forearms as if poison coursed through his veins.

  The occasional pop of breaking glass added to their slow exit from the shop. When either one of them stepped on the shards, they’d freeze and listen for sounds outside. Most people wouldn’t have heard it, but the rats and the nomads weren’t most people. Their animal instincts meant they could probably hear a mouse sigh from the other side of town. If they were close by, they’d definitely heard it.

  After he’d checked up and down the high street, Flynn stepped out into the pedestrianised area. Now they were outside, the wind chill ran gooseflesh up his arms and he hugged himself for warmth. A look at Rose and he saw her struggling too, shivering as she clamped her jaw tight.

  The moon’s silver highlight ran along the tops of old benches and dustbins. It caught the fronts of the decrepit shops and lit up no more than a metre into each building. Flynn shrugged, “I can’t see anything, can you?”

  “I think that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Rose said.

  Her words sent a spike of adrenaline through Flynn’s guts and he stared into the inky void of each shop. Of course she was right; being able to see just the front of each building shouldn’t give him any confidence. For all he knew, the rats could be waiting inside every one of them, their hungry little eyes watching them as they decided when to attack.

  “Well, I reckon the nomads have gone at least,” Flynn said while holding his left wrist with his right hand. “I can’t see them staying on the rats’ turf for this long.”

  Rose frowned down at Flynn’s grip. “Are your wrists hurting?”

  As much as he wanted to say no, Flynn nodded. “Yeah, I’m worried they’re infected.”

  “We need to re-dress them,” Rose said.

  “We need to get out of th
is cursed town first.” Flynn looked over to the large wall with the fire escape zigzagging down the side of it. It forced an involuntary sigh from him.

  “What’s up?”

  “Remember I told you about Serj?”

  “Yeah.”

  To look at the wall brought back the pain of killing his friend, and Flynn had to compose himself before he spoke. “Well, this is where he died. This is where I killed him.”

  Rose didn’t reply, waiting for him to continue.

  “We were out fetching lead for Home. Serj decided to climb up that fire escape over there.” He pointed. “When he got to the top, he found the lead wrapped around the bottom of a chimney, stepped onto the roof to get to it, and fell through. He landed on a scaffolding pole three storeys below. It went straight through his stomach.”

  A sharp intake of breath through her clenched teeth, Rose shook her head. “I’m sorry, Flynn.”

  “You can probably see why there was no saving him.”

  Flynn flinched when Rose touched his arm. “And that’s why you had to help him pass on. He asked you to do it for a good reason.”

  Reliving it lifted a burning lump into Flynn’s throat and he could only nod in response. “If I didn’t kill him, the rats would have eaten him alive. The best I could do was leave a corpse for them rather than make Serj experience that.”

  “They ate him?”

  “It’s what they do. It’s what a lot of people do in this world now. Why let a good meal go to waste?”

  “But they’re so young.”

  “It’s sad, isn’t it? So young and so feral.”

  “Where are the adults?”

 

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