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

by Michael Robertson

  For the first time since they’d been at the grave site, Louise looked straight at Matt. The same sparkle lit her green eyes that he’d seen in Scarlett. It both lifted him up and smashed him down in equal measure. The spirit of his wife lived on, passed down as the genetic baton from mother to daughter. However, the similarities struck so true that they would always be a painful reminder of his loss… of the female guidance his daughter would never receive. Try as he might, Matt couldn’t fill Scarlett’s shoes. “We’re safe here though, Dad.”

  The slightest sound of movement stirred on the breeze and Matt looked over his shoulder. He searched their surroundings but couldn’t see anything because of the dark. He whispered, “Nowhere is safe, honey, and nowhere will be until we crush The Elite.”

  One last look at Scarlett’s grave and Matt said a silent goodbye to her. “Come on, kid.” He ruffled Louise’s matted hair. “We need to move. The Elite were bad enough when they just had an army of humans, but now they have those… things… we have to be on full alert and never stay still. We can go wherever we want, but I say we go north to Enfield. That’s where we’ll find the resistance. What do you say?”

  Another look up at her dad, her green eyes stark as she said, “I’ll go wherever you think we should go, Daddy. If you think we should go north, then let’s go north.”

  A quick check around again and Matt dipped a nod at his daughter. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  The straps on Matt’s rucksack dug into his shoulders. By the end of each day, they’d cut off his circulation and ran pins and needles down his arms. A sharp pain speared the bottom of his neck, and no matter how he tilted his head, he could never quite stretch far enough to tease the ache away. A headache boomed through his temples that bordered on a migraine. Every time he blinked, lights flashed across his vision. An exhausted shake gripped his legs. He’d not eaten anything of any substance since they’d trapped a pigeon a few days ago.

  He’d had his current backpack for years now. After he’d tried several and ended up with the same pain each time, he settled for the next one he found. That had been five or six years ago. Time seemed less important now. It only really served as a way to measure the ageing of his beautiful little girl. Twelve years old! A look across at her and he drank in her brilliance. If Scarlett could see her now…

  Other than the sound of their footsteps as they dragged over the dusty concrete ground, silence hung heavy in the air—as it always did in London now. The beehive of activity left the city when the revolution started. When Louise inhaled to speak, Matt looked across at her before the words came out.

  “What are we doing, Dad?”

  After a second, he said, “Um, what do you mean, darling?”

  “What are we doing out here?”

  “We’re heading north to try and find some people of the revolution. And we’re surviving, sweetheart; we’re surviving.” A look around at the half-fallen buildings, the dark streets, the grass that pushed up through the cracked road… What else could he offer her? One day things would be different, but not yet. At present, it didn’t get any better than survival in their harsh and brutal world.

  “But why are we surviving?”

  The words tore his heart out. What was there to live for? And she should ask that. Matt checked around again. He then turned to his daughter and scratched his head. An arthritic pain gripped his twisted hands. “Look, I know things seem bleak right now. I know we’re struggling to get by, but your mother and I fought this revolution and we’ll see it through to the end. You will have a better life than this, but we need to keep going to find it.”

  Before Louise could reply, Matt brushed his foot over a patch of grass that had sprouted up from the road. “Look at this.”

  Louise glanced down before she looked back at her dad, her expression blank.

  “If I’d have told you years ago that grass—the thing that’s susceptible to even the slightest of breezes—would be able to grow, and not only grow, but to push through the hard layer that oppressed it, you’d have laughed in my face.”

  A frown twisted Louise’s features. “I don’t get what you’re saying.”

  “We’re like the grass. It may seem like the hard layer over the top of us will keep us down forever, but it won’t. Our strength lies in our refusal to give up. If we continue to grow, if we continue to look for the sunshine, the concrete ceiling above us will eventually crack and we’ll flourish. The tunnel may seem long and dark, but there’s always a light at the end of it. You’ve just got to keep walking and maintain that faith in your heart.”

  The frown lifted from Louise’s face and she nodded.

  “Come on, we've got to go,” Matt said as he looked around again. “If one of the drones spots us, we’re screwed.”

  As the pair moved off again, Louise said, “Why don’t you tell me about the revolution?”

  Before he could answer, Matt stopped again. The darkness had hidden it until that point, but now he saw it. A sinkhole spread across most of the road in front of them; a square pit that ran the entire width of the two-lane street. Matt took his daughter’s hand, and while he watched the dark hole, he led her to the pavement that skirted it.

  As they walked, the edge of it—less than a metre away and craggy from where the concrete had broken off—taunted Matt as if it threatened to give way at any point. A weakness wobbled his legs. A slip into the dark abyss, and who knew what damage they’d sustain. They could end up like animals in a trap as they waited for the drones to close in or a gargantuan to arrive. Just the thought of it made Matt’s heart race.

  Matt took his attention away from the dark hole. It served no purpose to think about the vulnerability of a fall. Shame his wandering mind didn't agree. The pitch blackness of the hole suggested an alien world. Gooseflesh lit up his skin. Even as an adult, his mind defaulted to the monsters that occupied the darkness. As an adult, he knew the monsters to be real. They may have left the houses of parliament when society collapsed, but he’d not seen a single corpse. They could still be alive and well. They most probably were. Somebody had to be behind the drones and their gargantuan bodyguards.

  Once they’d reached the other side of the hole, Matt breathed a relieved sigh and let go of Louise’s hand. “You’re too young to understand the complexity of what happened to bring about the revolution. I don’t want to stress you out with the politics of it.”

  When Louise didn’t reply, Matt removed a bottle of dirty rainwater from his belt, took a gulp of the muddy liquid, and passed it to his daughter.

  With an injured look, she took the bottle. After a swig, her face contorted. She then passed it back to him. “So you think the stress of this life is easier to bear than the stress of knowing how we got here? I’m twelve now, Dad; I’m not a child anymore. You have to let me grow up at some point.”

  Twelve should be a child still, but Matt couldn’t argue with her. This world didn’t make accommodations for youth. You’re either a survivor or you’re not, and if Louise were to survive, he needed to let her grow up. Scarlett would have encouraged it years ago. He needed to let his little girl become the young woman she seemed ready to turn into.

  When they arrived at the end of a road, Matt looked both ways. As an adult, maybe she should make some choices. “Left or—” the sound of a drone from the road on their left cut Matt short. A surge of adrenaline pulled his stomach tight and stole his breath. When he saw his panic reflected in his daughter’s wide eyes, he nodded at her and pointed down the road on to the right. “We need to go this way.”

  Chapter 5

  Without another word, Matt and Louise ran away from the sound of the drone. They didn’t need to speak; they knew what to do when they heard them—run faster than they’d ever run before. In all of the years during which the things had patrolled the streets, the pair had managed to avoid detection. Although how they’d done it, Matt couldn’t say. Surely their luck would expire at some point.

  A
s they ran, Matt watched the road. Litter and fallen debris lay everywhere. They shouldn’t run with so many obstacles. One trip could mean a broken limb and the drone would be on them. A minute after that and they’d be in the dark shadow of a gargantuan; a minute after that… a shudder ran through Matt that unsettled his stride.

  Matt’s eyeballs stung as he watched the road through unblinking eyes. A look behind in the direction of the drone’s hum showed Matt nothing; the darkness only allowed him a few metres visibility.

  The end of the road finally came into view; a T-junction. They could go one of two ways. The correct choice would leave the drone behind—it didn’t seem to have detected them yet. As they got closer to it, Louise stepped on an empty can.

  The loud metallic crunch bounced off the half-collapsed walls on either side of the street. Matt stopped dead. Sweat beaded on his brow and his heart pounded in his throat.

  The desire to scream balled in his chest. He’d focused so hard to not step on anything, and she’d let them down. But he held his tongue as he stared at his daughter.

  Slack, as if drenched in both fear and remorse, she stood with her arms limp by her side and stared back at him.

  The tension melted from his body. No matter how old, she’d always be his baby. She’d always need his protection. The hum of the drone grew louder. A nod toward the end of the decrepit street, and Matt said, “Come on, let’s go.”

  Before he’d given her a chance to respond, Matt set off again. With Louise’s footsteps behind him, he kept his attention ahead. She’d keep up. She ran faster than the average twelve year old—this life demanded it of her.

  The backpack jumped around on Matt’s back with every step. Each jolt pulled at his shoulders and stabbed a deeper pain across the back of his neck.

  Driven by instinct, Matt turned right at the end of the street and stopped almost instantly. Louise caught up to him a second later, her breaths heavy from the run. “What’s up? What’s—Oh.”

  Another sinkhole, larger than the last, filled the entire width of the road and beyond. It had spread to the point where it pulled the shop fronts into it.

  A deep breath did little to level him out, so Matt spoke through his heavy gasps. “Come on, there’s no passing this.” Dryness clawed at his throat, but he couldn’t stop to drink. He spun on his heel and ran the other way. Louise followed.

  Chapter 6

  A few minutes later, they came to a dead end and Matt’s heart sank. “Fuck it.” A wall, too high to climb, took up the entire street.

  Before he could say anything else, Louise called out, “Dad, come down here.”

  He turned to see his daughter nip into a dark alley that he’d missed on his way up the street. He took off after her and followed her in, his legs already aching from the run.

  The darkness of the small path sucked even the idea of light from Matt’s eyes as he followed his daughter’s footsteps. Anxiety ran through his exhausted frame. He should be the one up ahead, not her. And it may not even be a drone that could catch her. Sinkholes were common in the city; if she fell, he may not be able to get her out. Although he wanted to call after her, he held it back and focused on his breathing. He couldn’t hear the drone, but it would probably hear him.

  Damp hung in the tight space and turned the atmosphere thick. Matt wrinkled his nose at it but pushed on.

  Clumsy with tiredness, Matt’s pulse spiked when he stood on what felt like half a brick. His ankle turned over. He stumbled, tripped, and then fell forward.

  Chapter 7

  Matt thrust his hands in front of him to soften his fall. Fire tore through his palms when he hit the rough ground. The shock of it ran up his arms and deep into his shoulders.

  Despite his other pains, Matt’s attention went to the initial injury—the sharp sting in his ankle. He could run with sore hands and sore shoulders, but if he’d broken his ankle, his journey ended there.

  Matt got to his feet and saw the silhouette of his daughter ahead of him. She’d stopped and looked his way. He bit down on his bottom lip in anticipation of the pain and put pressure on his foot. The jagged shock twisted nausea through his guts, but it took his weight.

  The second he flattened his foot on the floor, the hum of the drone sounded out again. Whether she could see it or not, Matt raised his hand at Louise and called in hushed tones, “I’m fine. Keep going.”

  By the time they’d reached the end of the alley, Matt already moved with greater ease. His ankle burned but it held. A huge pile of rubble blocked the road to their left, so they turned right.

  A few seconds later, the drone’s hum grew so loud Matt could almost feel the vibration of it in his chest. It had obviously just entered the alleyway and the enclosed space amplified the sound of its engine. Matt ground his teeth against his pain, caught up with his daughter, and tugged on her arm. “Come on, we’ve got to keep going.”

  By the time they got to the next crossroads, about twenty metres ahead, Matt had developed a stitch. It tore into his side like a white-hot blade and restricted his breaths. The taste of stale rainwater and bile lifted up into his throat.

  Car wreckages blocked the roads on either side. Maybe they could climb over them, but maybe not. They continued straight ahead.

  Through heavy breaths, he said to Louise, “I can’t… keep on going. We… have to find… somewhere… to stop.”

  Instead of a reply, Louise grabbed his hand and tugged him toward an abandoned building.

  Once inside, Matt pressed his back against a wall and fought to recover his breath. Rocked by his heavy respiration, he looked at his daughter; she seemed to have recovered already. She didn’t have a rucksack, but her fitness far outdid his anyway.

  The echoed hum of the bot returned to normal; it too had exited the alleyway.

  Matt tried to stifle his hungry gasps of air. Their choice to stop could either save or ruin them. Dryness spread through his mouth no matter how many times he swallowed. He pulled Louise in close to him. She gave off the musty smell of dirt as she trembled in his arms.

  Five years of drones on the streets—more than ten since the war had begun—and neither of them had been spotted yet; maybe their luck had run out.

  The fanned-out red glow of the bot’s scanner edged into the darkness of the building. Even the slightest touch of the beam spelled the end. Louise tensed in Matt’s tight grip and he heard her stop breathing as he also held his breath.

  The bot moved past them, just metres away on the other side of the wall—Matt had never been so close to one. A panic attack stirred in his chest, but he swallowed it down.

  As the bot passed them, Matt turned to watch it through a hole that used to be a window. The spherical glass machine buzzed and hummed as it moved down the dark street. Its red beam scanned the road in front of it. Utterly devoid of a personality, the representation of Elite oppression moved along like an automatic hoover. It had been given a role that it would complete with mechanical efficiency. Life and death meant nothing to it. It followed code without judgment.

  For the next ten minutes or so, they didn’t move. Matt’s breaths had finally evened out, but his chest remained tight as the imprint of panic kept a tight grip on him.

  After a deep inhalation, he finally let go of his little girl. The little girl who had to look out for their safety now as much as he did. The little girl who could no longer live the life of a child. The young woman who had saved them twice as they’d run from the drone. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get moving. We need to head to Enfield. It seems like there are more drones on the streets now than ever.” A cold chill ran through him. “The last thing we need is a gargantuan on our tail.”

  Chapter 8

  Matt and Louise walked in the shadows of the decrepit buildings and didn’t speak. Twenty minutes or so had passed. The thin moon gave off little light, so the shadows rendered them almost invisible. The darkest of nights proved the best time to travel.

  Despite the relative calm all around the
m, Matt blinked infrequently as he watched their surroundings. The strong and bitter wind burned his dry eyes and cut straight to his bones.

  He removed a bottle of water from his belt as he searched every dark crevice… every ruined building… every slight alcove. As he twisted the cap, he continued to look for drones. They could hide anywhere, but on nights like tonight, they could hide everywhere. Matt had his wits and nothing else as a defence. It seemed pathetic against the might of The Elite and their drones, but it had served them in good stead for over a decade now. He must be doing something right.

  After he’d removed the bottle cap, Matt took a sip of the muddy water. The muscles in his neck pulled tight in a grimace at the earthy taste. He then passed the bottle to Louise.

  For a second, his little girl simply stared at the dirty liquid. After a deep inhalation, she released a heavy sigh and her breath turned to steam on the cold air. She knocked back a swig, pulled a face like she’d just drunk castor oil, and handed it back to Matt.

  “Tastes like shit, doesn’t it?” Despite Matt’s attempt to keep his voice low, his hushed tones flew through the silent streets.

  Louise’s eyes widened. “You don’t normally swear, Dad.”

  The awkward look of a youth approaching adulthood stretched Louise’s body. Her limbs had grown long and spindly and her face had lost the chubby puppy fat of only a year or so ago; although, a poor diet and a nomadic lifestyle could also be to blame for that. “No, I don’t,” Matt said, “but you’re not a kid anymore.”

  A smile lit her face up, and she straightened her back. She seemed several inches taller. The sight twisted Matt’s heart. It had been so long since she’d smiled last, he barely recognised her when she did.