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

by Michael Robertson

  When Hope heard the sound of beating hearts, her fangs unsheathed. Looking around the room, she saw the cages. There were seven of them, each one containing a naked human. A selection fit for a princess.

  The girl in the bed sat up and looked over at Hope. She looked about eight years old. The same age as Ben.

  When another heavy kick slammed against the door, rocking the entire wall, Hope jumped away from it, backing towards the bed.

  The door flew wide and Lucien stepped into the room, followed by a swarm of vampires. Taller than the others and twice as broad, he hunched over and hissed at her. “I should have guessed you’d get out, you little bitch. You’ve killed three of my best customers. The one who you killed first was the one who gave me the tip off for your family. He’s the reason you’re here.”

  Hope didn’t reply.

  “And I see you’ve also found your mom and dad. Well, guess who else I have with me?”

  Before he’d dragged the boy in, Hope’s heart was already breaking. “Ben?”

  A broad smile spread over Lucien’s face. “He’s my little pet now.”

  “You’ve turned him?”

  Shaking his head, Lucien dragged her brother in. There was a chain around his neck and a bag over his head.

  “Show him to me.”

  Shaking his head again, Lucien laughed. “You don’t call the shots, little girl. I do.”

  Trembling where she stood, Hope glanced at more vampires entering the room behind Lucien. The swarm of beasts spread out behind him: a small army. “Show him to me.”

  Some of the vampires climbed the wall behind him and sat on the ceiling to allow the others in.

  Talking to the boy, Hope said, “Ben? Is that you?”

  The little figure didn’t respond.

  Backing further away, Hope only realized how far she’d gone when she bumped into the bed. “It’s not him. You’re lying. It’s not him.”

  “It is. This is little Ben.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Lucien glanced at the bed behind her. “It doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not.”

  In one fluid movement, Hope grabbed the girl and pulled her in tight. Pressing the blade of the dagger against her throat, she said, “Does it matter now?”

  Although Lucien was clearly trying to fight it, he couldn’t hide his fear. With wide eyes, he stared at the little girl.

  “You forget who my parents were, Lucien. I probably know more about your operation than you do. I knew you had a little princess somewhere, and it looks like I’ve hit the jackpot.” Looking at the girl’s face, her onyx eyes lifeless like every other vampire, Hope laughed. “She has your eyes.”

  Before Lucien could reply, Hope dug the knife into her neck and drew blood. “Not only is she your daughter, but I heard she was an only child too.”

  Watching the dagger, Lucien’s voice warbled. “You’d best be careful with her.”

  Shouting so loud she shook, Hope roared, “Show me my brother then.”

  Although Lucien shook his head, Ben twisted several times, flinging his head about vigorously.

  When the bag slipped free, Hope saw his black eyes and started to cry as she looked back at Lucien. “You bastard.”

  More vampires came in the door. The fetid reek of rot filled the room.

  Pulling Lucien’s daughter in tighter, Hope screamed, “Stay the fuck back. I’ll slit her throat in a heartbeat if you don’t control them, Lucien.”

  Turning to the hissing mass of bodies behind him, Lucien called out, “Stay back.” When he focused on Hope again, he spread his arms wide. “Now, please, let my daughter go.”

  “Why should I, Lucien? What have you done to help my family? You turned my mom so she would feed on my dad. You’ve turned my brother, so what, he can feed on me?”

  With his face contorting, Lucien started to weep. “Please. Please let her go. I’ll do anything.”

  “Can you bring back the dead? Can you turn us all mortal again?”

  “You know I can’t.”

  Pulling the trembling girl tighter to her, Hope shook her head. “Well, I’m sorry, Lucien, but you have no leverage.”

  Before Lucien could reply, his daughter spoke in the smallest voice. “Kill me.”

  Silence descended on the room and Lucien stared at her. Shaking his head, he grabbed his face with both hands. “No. You don’t mean that, darling. Surely you don’t mean that.”

  The girl had stopped shaking in Hope’s grip. “I mean it. Kill me.” She spoke in a monotone.

  “No. No.” Lucien fell to his knees. “Come on, darling, you don’t mean it.”

  Looking between Lucien and his daughter, Hope eased her grip. “See what you’ve done to her? This is the person you love most in the world, and she wants to die. She wants to be away from you. You’re a cancer, Lucien. A parasite on everything you touch. Even your own daughter hates you.”

  Crying freely, Lucien continued shaking his head. “No, no, no.”

  Lowering her voice, Hope said, “She hates you. She hates the life you’ve given her. She hates the dungeon you make her live in. She hates you, Lucien. She hates everything about you. No matter how much power you have, you can’t make your daughter love you. How does that feel?”

  Before Lucien could reply, Hope dropped the dagger. It rang out when it hit the stone floor. Shoving the girl towards her father, Hope saw the gathered vampires move forward again, some of them crawling across the ceiling toward her. “You’ve done more damage to your daughter than I ever could. You’re the one who’s killed her, not me.”

  Before she could say anything else, the other vampires rushed forward in a black tide.

  In the seconds before she was overwhelmed, Hope pulled her shoulders back, sniffed in her tears, and smiled at Lucien. “You did this to her.”

  Ends.

  Crevices

  Bang!

  With the larger half of the cracker in his grip, Daniel smiled and looked at the smaller half in his dad’s hand. He may have been fourteen, but who didn’t like the prizes in a cracker? Especially when there were so few games available to them now and they had luxury crackers this year. A large box of them had sat in the kitchen since the end of the summer when the looters had managed to find it while raiding a manor house.

  A plastic toy and rolled up paper crown fell out onto the table when Daniel upended it. He unfurled the crown and placed it on his head; it was Christmas after all.

  When he looked at Al, the kind man didn’t return his warmth. What was going on with him today? Sure, Al didn’t speak much when he was around people but he usually had a smile in him; especially for Daniel.

  The toy was a little red plastic maze topped with a clear lid and two small ball bearings inside. Several quick twists and turns and both of the balls were in the middle. Wow! After months of waiting for a toy and that was it? Talk about anti-climax.

  Jason, who was a few years younger than Daniel, had been watching him play with the maze. In his hand was a corkscrew. What use was that to him? Daniel looked at the toy for a second and then tossed it across the table to him. “Here ya go.”

  In his eagerness, Jason snatched the toy up and started playing with it immediately. When his older sister, Martha, ruffled his hair, he still didn’t look up. The kid clearly needed that toy much more than Daniel did.

  When Martha and Jason had arrived at Eden three years ago, they were all that was left of their family. At nine and fourteen, they were covered in blood and malnourished. It was amazing the pair had lasted as long as they had without being bitten. Their parents had fallen, but at least they still had one another.

  Daniel dug a fork into his fried corned beef, his mouth watering when the salty meat touched his tongue. It may not have been a prime cut of steak—not that he’d ever tasted steak—but it was so much better than the beans and lentils they lived off most of the time.

  Ching! Ching!

  A sinking feeling tugged on Daniel’s heart
when his dad stood up whilst tapping his glass. Seventeen of them were sitting around the long table and they all fell silent. They were going to have to listen to his dad’s bullshit again. As the leader of Eden since his Granddad had stepped down, the power had gone to his head and Daniel’s dad had turned into a dick.

  “So here we are again,” Daniel’s dad said, his usually loud voice muffled by the bunker’s damp walls. “Yet another Christmas and we’re still alive.”

  There were thirty-two of them last Christmas; it was hardly worth celebrating the fact that they’d nearly halved in number. When Daniel raised his eyebrows at Al, the man simply stared back.

  Daniel’s dad lifted his glass and everyone else did the same. “I’d like to toast our survival.”

  Several of the people at the table roared their agreement. Many, including Daniel, did not.

  The sound died down and Daniel’s dad spoke again. “There are people we need to thank for that. We should thank them every day. I can only speak for myself and say that I’m sorry I don’t. Firstly, I’d like to thank John and Boris for this wonderful meal. You boys are the two best scavengers a community could hope for.”

  “John and Boris!” the table agreed.

  “The food is amazing.” A deep swig of his wine and Daniel’s dad grinned. “And the booze is even better.”

  Several of the people around the table banged their clenched fists against it and cheered their agreement.

  The praise clearly made the pair uncomfortable. A couple of weasely looking men with scraggly beards, they both stared into the bottom of their tankards and waited for the attention to pass. In all the time they’d been in Eden, Daniel hadn’t really spoken to either of them. It wasn’t that they didn’t speak—they weren’t like Al—it was more that their bond to one another was so tight that they rarely looked for any kind of relationship beyond that. It was probably a good thing because they had to spend so much time in each other’s company.

  The obnoxious voice of his father made Daniel cringe again. Did anyone else in the community think he was an idiot?

  “To our chefs, Becky and Adam, thank you for cooking for us every day. Sometimes it’s edible too!”

  His dad’s jokes were so lame. Surely the others were just being polite when they laughed.

  Daniel’s dad winked at the chefs. “Seriously though guys, great job.”

  Becky flipped Daniel’s dad the bird and Adam shrugged.

  Daniel slipped another piece of corned beef into his mouth. When would his dad shut up?

  Al wasn’t looking up anymore. Instead, he focused on using his fork to push a pea around his plate.

  Before it got too quiet, Daniel’s dad spoke again. “To Jason, Maria, and Tracy for running the school; we may only have a handful of kids here, but they’re content and that’s because of you guys.”

  Daniel’s cheeks flushed when his dad patted his head.

  “I know Daniel was really happy when he was in your care. I’d also like to thank the watchmen.”

  Five of the six watchmen were sitting at the table. It didn’t matter that it was Christmas, at least one person needed to stay outside and keep watch.

  “And to Wayne—for staying out there…”

  Jackson cupped his mouth and called out, “The miserable bastard hates Christmas anyway.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “And finally,” Daniel’s dad said. “Al.”

  Tension gripped Daniel when he looked at the man. Surely his dad knew Al wouldn’t want the attention. Although Al was old enough to be his father, they were friends. He was more of a support to him than his own dad was. Daniel was the only person in the community he spoke to. As far as anyone else was concerned—

  “The guy may not have spoken a word to anyone since he’s been here,” Daniel’s dad said, “but he can shoot the moustache off a zombie from two miles away.”

  The response to Al’s toast was more muted than the others. It wasn’t that they didn’t like him; no one knew him like Daniel did and he made people nervous. What was it his dad had called him? A closed book; Al was a closed book. Although, whenever his dad said it, there was a nasty ring to his voice.

  Al continued staring at his plate and pushed a lone pea around it. Then Daniel saw the slightest shake running through him. It was ever so subtle, but something was up. Like his dad said, Al was the best sniper in the community by a mile. His nerves were steadier than a monk’s.

  Bang!

  Al slammed his fist against the table and silence fell on the room.

  Daniel’s heart kicked. What the hell?

  Al took a couple of deep breaths and looked up from beneath his heavy brow. When he got to his feet, his chair screeched out behind him.

  Although Daniel’s dad took a deep breath like he was about to speak, Al cut him off by lifting his glass. There was a flatness to his voice as he said, “I want to raise a toast to those we’ve lost.”

  “Not now, Al,” Daniel’s dad said. “Not today.”

  Did he seriously just say that? What a dick, Daniel said to himself.

  The air seemed to spark between the two men as they stared at one another. Daniel loved his dad because he had to; he loved Al because he chose to. The last thing he wanted to see was a fight between the men—besides, Al would kick his dad’s arse.

  Another sip of his drink and Al said, “If not today, then when should we remember our families? Until this year, Christmas was a measure of how well I was doing as the protector of my loved ones. No matter what we saw or what we went through, we were alive. I’d kept my wife and two girls safe.” His voice cracked. “We were winning.”

  As Daniel watched Al’s eyes glaze, he swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat. Why hadn’t he told him about his family? For the past few months Al had patiently listened to Daniel complain about how much he hated his dad; all the while mourning the loss of his own family and never saying a word.

  Daniel’s dad spoke up again, “Come on, mate, you’ve had a lot to drink. Maybe you should go and sleep it off, yeah?”

  Before Al could reply, Daniel tugged hard on his dad’s arm.

  When his dad looked down at him, Daniel glared back. The two stared at one another before Daniel’s dad said, “I’m sorry, Al, you continue.” He then sat down.

  The aggression in the atmosphere eased; in its place came a palpable sadness. The gentle man, who had helped Daniel so much over the past few months, was broken. He was another casualty of this unforgiving world. Why hadn’t Daniel seen it sooner?

  “This is my first Christmas without my family,” Al said. “I’m grateful for the people in this facility, I really am, but it’s just not the same without my wife and daughters.” After a heavy sigh, he dropped his head. “It never will be.”

  Near silence followed. The only sound came from Al lifting his glass from the table and guzzling his drink.

  Bang!

  He slammed the glass back down, the smell of beer hitting Daniel as the dregs spilled over the side. “I’m going to get some more booze.” And with that, he walked out of the dining room.

  The scraping of Daniel’s dad’s chair cut through the silence as he stood up again with his glass raised. “To the fallen.”

  The rest of the group—apart from Daniel, who was watching Al walk off—spoke as one. “To the fallen.”

  About ten minutes had passed and Al still hadn’t returned. Where had he gone? What was he doing? Daniel wondered and then, without a word, stood up.

  His dad grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

  What did it matter where he was going? He wasn’t a kid anymore. “The toilet, is that okay?”

  The look on his dad’s face suggested he was being too defensive but Daniel didn’t apologise. Instead, he stared back with his jaw set; it wasn’t like his dad was going to cause a scene in front of everyone. And if he wanted to, then Daniel was well up for the row today. Did he really want to be told how much of an idiot he was in front of the
community?

  “Okay, fine,” Daniel’s dad said and looked at the others. He was always most concerned about how he looked in front of people. “Just remember your manners, yeah?”

  ‘Fuck you’ wasn’t the best response to ‘remember your manners’ but it was all he had so he kept it to himself and without another word, Daniel left the room.

  Instinct drove Daniel past the bathroom and straight to the re-enforced steel door that lead outside. Sure enough, Al was standing there, another drink in his hand as he peered out of the small rectangular window about two-thirds of the way up it.

  When Daniel touched him on the shoulder, Al jumped and spun around.

  “Oh… Daniel, hi…” He sounded drunk and reeked of booze.

  “Are you okay?” Daniel asked and immediately thought, what a stupid question.

  Instead of responding, Al offered Daniel a weary sigh.

  “What can I do to help?” Daniel asked. “You’ve done so much for me. You’ve listened to me complain about my Dad being a dick for months now. I want to return the favour.”

  Al shook his head but still didn’t reply.

  Daniel leaned across and placed a hand on the top of Al’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a family before this?”

  A quiver ran through Al’s bottom lip. “I let them sleep while I went out and got breakfast. We’d been in the same house for weeks and I got complacent. I was only gone for ten minutes at the most, but it was ten minutes too long.”

  A damp weight of grief filled Daniel’s chest as he watched the gentle man scratch his forehead. Surely there was something he could do for him, especially after he’d helped him so much.

  “When I came back there was blood everywhere. I saw my two little girls feeding on my wife.” The strain of grief turned Al’s voice hoarse. “They were eating their own fucking mother!”

  Tears ran down Al’s face. “After all the years we survived for, and all of the promises we made to one another, I left them infected. I turned tail and ran.”

  “It’s what anyone would have done, Al.”