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

by Michael Robertson

  “You’d rather die in this one?”

  A look at Rose and Flynn saw the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m scared.” He had to say it now. “I like you. And now I know you like me too, I don’t want to lose that.”

  After another moment’s pause, Rose said, “When Mum helped me get free from the people attacking us, she told me to always stand in the light and do the right thing. The only guide I have now is my moral compass. If I listen to that, everything will work out for the best. We had the right intention with the rats and it worked out.”

  “Worked out?”

  “We’re alive.”

  “Not by design. We were lucky.”

  Rose shrugged, lifting Flynn’s hand with her action. “Luck … fate … what’s the difference?”

  “Luck just happens. Fate is a lie we tell ourselves.”

  Rose remained calm and shook her head. “But I don’t believe it is. And you know what? What does it matter even if it is a lie? If it’s a placebo? Better to trust everything will be okay—”

  “Than plan for it? Sounds a bit wishy-washy to me.”

  “You’re not getting it.” Rose let go of Flynn’s hand and pulled her long blonde hair away from her face. “I always intend to do the right thing. Always. But that’s all I have. It’s naive to think I can predict how things will work out. That I can plan for the complex algorithm that’s life. Control’s an illusion, Flynn. The more you try to hold onto it, the more distressed you become.”

  Flynn frowned hard as they walked, but he didn’t respond. “So you’re telling me I’m powerless in this world?”

  “Intention is a powerful thing. I’m telling you that nothing ever goes exactly as planned. Ever. Even if it’s just the minor details. If I always intend to do the right thing, I have to trust that everything else will be okay beyond that. And you know what? One day it probably won’t be. But there’s no point in pretending I can predict that, or prepare for it, just like there’s no point in pretending I can predict anything.”

  It hurt Flynn’s head to find fault with her argument.

  “I’m not saying don’t do anything. Because without action, there can’t be a reaction. And sometimes those reactions are an approximation of what we hoped for. But there’s also no point in lying to ourselves about having control over this world.” She paused for a second. “It took facing the end of my life in the town to tell you how I feel about you. I should have told you that sooner. I should have had faith. I’m sorry I waited until then. Sometimes it’s not so easy to follow your own advice, eh? Anyway, my point is the sooner you let go of focusing on the results and focus on your intention, the sooner you’ll find peace.”

  “Peace? In this world? With all the shit that’s happened?”

  “Peace and pain aren’t mutually exclusive. Things have happened as they’ve happened. I can’t change the fact that my mum’s dead.” Rose took a moment to compose herself. A solitary tear ran down her cheek, carrying the silver glow of the moon with it. “But I can accept it. I can know that I did what I could at the time, and if I was back in that moment, I would make exactly the same choice because that was the choice I made then. Acceptance is all I have now.”

  As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it made sense. If he’d had a chance to relive Vicky and Serj dying, he wouldn’t have been able to change it. The information of how to prevent both of them only came to him after they’d passed.

  “Also,” Rose said, “even if I didn’t have these beliefs, my mum told me to be the change I wanted to see in the world. To stand in the light. I believe that’s a good way to live my life, and she asked it of me as her dying wish. She died to save me. The least I can do is honour her request.”

  Flynn drew a breath to respond, but Rose cut him off. “This isn’t a philosophy that’s come easy for me. Mum didn’t just die. They didn’t simply cut her throat like they did with the others. Several of the men …” A shake ran through Rose and she cried more freely than before.

  “It’s okay,” Flynn said and grabbed her hand again. It felt cold to the touch. “You don’t have to say it. It’s okay.” He then moved closer to Rose and put his arm around her.

  “I need to do the right thing, Flynn. I can’t stress out about a fictional prediction of what could go wrong. If I’m to live through this, I need to do what I know is right. You need to decide what your path is. I’ll understand if you want to go your own way, but the Queen has people that we know are being tortured and oppressed, and she plans to attack the people of Home; as far as I’m concerned, I have to do what I can to stop her.”

  Chapter 19

  Cold and tired, Flynn held Rose’s hand as they stumbled into the barn.

  Like in the town, the rough concrete ground had held up against the grass’ unrelenting determination, and it had no cracks in it. Both Flynn’s and Rose’s steps scuffed over the ground as they walked to the same corner Flynn had sat down in earlier that evening.

  They sat close to one another, their backs pressed against the hard wooden wall along one side of the structure. The darkness hung so complete that when Flynn looked into a corner on the opposite side of the space, it seemed to leech the light from his eyes. Although, when he looked at the doorway, he could see the top of the long grass as it swayed in the wind. The moonlight might have been weak, but compared to where they found themselves at that moment, it shone like a lamp.

  Flynn sat shoulder to shoulder with Rose and couldn’t tell where his shivering ended and hers began. They’d both been soaked by the dewy grass during their walk back from the town.

  Other than the sound of the wind outside, Flynn couldn’t hear anything—until Rose spoke.

  “Thank you for coming back to the town with me. You didn’t have to.”

  The first time they’d stopped for what felt like days, Flynn’s eyelids grew heavy as he shrugged. “I know, but I wanted to be with you. Even if that meant going in there.”

  The slur in Rose’s words revealed her fatigue, and her actions were clumsy as she reached over and found his hand. “Thank you.”

  It looked like there was movement out in the meadow, causing Flynn to sit up straighter, but Rose didn’t seem to notice. But as he stared out of the barn, he couldn’t see anything. It had to be his imagination; it would have been rare to see hunters or nomads, almost unheard of to meet them both on the same day. No way would there be anyone else outside.

  Rose gave Flynn’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Do you think I’m nuts for saying all that stuff about intention and control? I’ve suffered with a lot of anxious thoughts. It’s the only way I’ve found to help stay calm.”

  “It makes sense. And although I may have been resistant at first, I’m on board. What’s the point of this life if we can’t try to make it better? I learned that from Vicky. She died trying to make my life better. So did my mum and dad. We should be doing the same for the generations coming after us.”

  A short pause and Rose spoke with a small voice as if nervous to ask the question. “What happened with your mum and dad?”

  Before Flynn knew it, he’d heaved a weary sigh. He kept his focus outside.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Rose said. “I was just curious.”

  A shake of his head and Flynn said, “No, it’s fine. Did I tell you how Dad saved us all?”

  “No.”

  The slightest smile lifted one side of Flynn’s mouth. “If ever there was a story of a hero …”

  Rose turned and looked up at Flynn. He drew a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “He was right by the Alpha Tower when the virus broke out. He and Mum were separated at that point. When he saw the chaos, he had just one thing on his mind: he had to get me. I was only six at the time. Although heroic in his efforts, he was also lucky to bump into Vicky, who was running out of the city. Because she knew about the virus, she knew exactly what was coming and which way they needed to run. The pair of them fought their way out towards my school o
n the outskirts.”

  “It must have been insane,” Rose said.

  “They told me it was. I don’t remember because I was too young.” The hypnotic sway of the long grass outside the barn made Flynn zone out. After blinking his drowsiness away, he continued. “Apparently, when they got to my school, everyone had been taken down by the virus. They thought I’d died and nearly gave up on me. Then Dad remembered how I loved to climb a specific tree. He checked it and they found me up it. I was the only survivor from hundreds.”

  “And what about your mum? How did you save her?”

  A strong breeze swung into the place and Flynn tensed against its chill. “She worked in Summit City too. Apparently, all the tower blocks had anti-terrorist shields around them. As soon as the virus broke out, the city went into lockdown. That may have been okay in itself, but because the disease broke out on an island, they’d set up Summit City to incinerate to try to contain the virus. Dad might have been inclined to leave Mum in there, but apparently I said I wanted her with me. He risked his life to make sure that happened and went back into the diseased city.”

  “He went back in? That would have been suicidal!”

  “I’m not sure he gave it much thought. He always said to me that if I ever have a child, I’d understand. How from the second I was born, he lived to serve me. And how he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself for not getting Mum back to me.”

  “What if he’d failed?”

  “He said he didn’t think about it.”

  “He focused on his intention because he couldn’t control the outcome.”

  Flynn smiled. “Right. After that we survived. We survived for the longest time. At least ten years. We lived in shipping containers.” He ruffled his nose at the memory of it. “The one we all used for a toilet stank. Although, the diseased constantly around us didn’t help with the stench either.”

  At that moment, Rose moved closer to Flynn and snuggled into his chest. He put his arm around her. In the process, he knocked his left wrist. An electric streak of pain ran up him and he pulled a sharp breath in through his clenched teeth.

  “We need to clean your wounds up and re-dress them,” Rose said.

  Flynn nodded. They did. “In the morning.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Vicky said she wanted to leave. To move on. Mum and Dad were back together for years and I think she felt like a spare wheel. I was sixteen then. She said I was old enough to go out scavenging with Dad, and they didn’t need her anymore.”

  The hard and cold ground turned Flynn’s arse numb, but he didn’t want to move in case Rose moved too. Better to have her there and be uncomfortable. A slight shift and he continued, “Vicky promised to come out on a scavenging mission with us one last time before she left. That was when it happened.”

  Despite it happening a long time ago, the pain of it rose in Flynn as a rock in his throat. He gulped against it, but couldn’t chug it down. After feeling another warm squeeze of his hand from Rose, he continued. “When we were out scavenging, we went near a stream.” He paused for a moment to gather himself. “I’d been living in shipping containers for years. They hadn’t had time to teach me to swim.”

  “You fell in?” Rose asked.

  “And Dad rescued me. He got me out of the stream, but the diseased must have heard my struggle because they suddenly appeared and jumped on him. He told me to run and Vicky dragged me away. They’d already bitten him by that point.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Rose said. “How awful.”

  The images in Flynn’s mind were as fresh as if he’d seen them yesterday. “When Mum found out, I think she still thought Vicky planned to move on. She went out on her own to try to scavenge. She didn’t tell either of us she planned to do it. I think she thought she’d need to support both of us when Vicky left. But because Dad had died, Vicky had changed her mind about going.”

  “She just hadn’t told her?”

  “No.” The tears came at that moment and Flynn shook harder than before. Still looking outside at the long grass with the silver highlight, he said, “We woke up to find her banging on the shipping containers with the rest of the diseased.” His bottom lip buckled out of shape. “She looked as desperate to get to us as the others were. It was the first time I saw the evil twist of familiarity in a diseased. I saw the face of a loved one hell-bent on my destruction.”

  “My god.”

  A warm trickle of tears ran down Flynn’s face and he shook with gentle sobs. After drawing a stuttered breath, he laughed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset me like this.”

  Another warm squeeze of his hand, Rose said, “It’s okay. You don’t need to talk about it anymore. So, tomorrow …”

  “Yep.”

  “We’re going to go to the royal complex?”

  A wet sniff against his running nose and Flynn nodded in the darkness. “Yeah, it seems like the best bet.”

  When Rose turned to look up at Flynn, he quickly wiped his tears away. “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?” Flynn frowned as he stared down at her, straight into her dark eyes. Despite the lack of light in the barn, the slightest glow from the moon showed him her beautiful gaze.

  “For telling me about your family. For opening up. For trusting in me and understanding who I am. I’ve not had that before from someone.” Rose reached up and wiped his tears away with her thumb.

  As they stared at one another, the urge to lean down and kiss Rose tugged on Flynn’s neck. But he didn’t. What if she didn’t feel ready for that? He needed her in his arms after dragging up the memories of his family. He smiled at her and then looked back out of the barn. “I think it’s best we both get some sleep. We have a lot to do in the morning.”

  Chapter 20

  The sun shone through the large space where the doors to the barn had once been. A strong beam of light and heat pressed against Flynn’s face, forcing him awake. When he opened his eyes, they burned from the glare, so he snapped them shut again. A slight headache throbbed through his temples from where he’d been cooking for however long it had taken him to wake.

  Flynn pulled in a deep breath as if it would help him transition from his dreamy state. The smell of rotting wood surrounded him. How long would it be before the barn collapsed?

  Another attempt, Flynn opened his eyes more slowly than before, letting in the bright glare of the early morning.

  Because of the daylight, Flynn saw the inside of the barn better than he had the previous evening. Pinpricks of light shone through the old walls where rot had taken chunks from it.

  As Flynn woke up, he felt the numbness in his arse and the angry twist to his back. Although, when he looked down to see Rose still hugging him, he smiled. It had been worth the pain.

  The same ache he’d had for the past day throbbed through Flynn’s wrists. No doubt they’d be excruciating when he moved them.

  The cold night had done little to dry out Flynn’s joggers and T-shirt, but at least the sun shone. It wouldn’t take long outside to banish the damp press of his clothes. Another look out through the barn’s doors and he stared at the long grass lit up and swaying in the gentle breeze.

  From where he sat, Flynn could see the top of Rose’s head and her button nose. He leaned down to kiss her crown. Maybe he should have gone for it last night. She’d as good as given him the green light in the town when the rats closed in on them. But she also thought they were going to die at that moment and had cooled off a little when they managed to get free. They had time; he didn’t need to be pushy.

  Then Rose stirred, inhaling the first deep breath of waking. Flynn pulled his lips back from the top of her head, heat flushing his cheeks. “Morning,” he said, his voice croaky from sleep. He shouldn’t try to kiss her. Things were good as they were. He didn’t need the pain of another rejection.

  It took Rose a few seconds to wake up enough to turn around and look at him. A wonky smile, she then pulled away fro
m him and sat upright.

  Before Flynn could say anything, Rose frowned and looked down at his wrists. One of the last thoughts she’d voiced before falling asleep last night resurfaced as she said, “We need to get them re-dressed. The bandages are filthy.”

  And they were. Rose had done a good job dressing them when they were in the cage in the royal complex, but since then, they’d picked up all kinds of stains. Blood, dirt, grass …

  When Rose got to her feet, Flynn couldn’t help but stare at her bottom in her joggers. Such a fine woman, sometimes he didn’t know where to look without blushing.

  Rose reached her hand down to Flynn when she turned to face him, a slight twist of a smile on her lips. She knew he watched her in that way. And why should he be ashamed of being physically attracted to her? She’d made it clear she liked him too. Flynn took her hand and she pulled him to his feet.

  When they were both standing, Rose kept a hold of Flynn’s hand, moving up to his wrist and the bandage around it. She undid the one on his left wrist first, slowly unwinding it as if she felt every jolt of his pain.

  Just the thought of Rose touching his wounds forced Flynn to wince. He watched her unravel the damp and dirty fabric before flinching away from what he anticipated to be a horrible sight. Although, when he looked back, he said, “It’s not as bad as I thought.”

  “It looks pretty grim to me,” Rose said.

  Flynn said, “Sure, it’s dirty and bloody, but I was expecting worse. I thought I’d be able to see the bone. It certainly felt like it when I was working the bonds free.” No more than a red cuff, it looked like it would heal just fine with some love and attention.

  “We need to clean these cuts out,” Rose said.

  The dark ring around Flynn’s left wrist definitely needed cleaning. No doubt the other one looked the same. “With what?”

  Rose didn’t look up as she unwound the bandage on his other wrist.

  It looked similar to the first one. “Now I’ve seen them both,” Flynn said, “they hurt less. When I thought I’d done some serious damage, my paranoia dragged my thoughts to them all the time. The mind has a funny way of playing tricks, doesn’t it?”