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

by Michael Robertson

  Although Gurt looked like he had more to say, a grimace twisted his face and he remained quiet.

  Chapter 21

  After Seb detached his snowboard from his feet, he sought shelter inside the damp cave, rested his board against the wall, and removed his salopettes and ski jacket. He tossed them down on the black stone ground and inhaled the musty reek of the place.

  No one spoke for a few seconds as the slow drip of melting snow played its wet metronome in the space. Seb stared down at his discarded items and broke the near silence. “I’m guessing we won’t need this lot again.”

  A glance down at the equipment and Gurt raised an eyebrow. The Mandulu clearly still stung from Seb’s purposeful falling over on the slopes. Or rather, his inability to see it where Sparks had. Other than general contempt, he had nothing to level at Seb at that moment and he seemed unsettled for it. He returned to removing his clothes and made a point to check that all of his blasters remained in place.

  Sparks—who Seb had noticed watched Gurt like he had—shrugged and finally responded, “I hope not.” After she’d tossed her board and clothes on top of Seb’s, she put her rucksack on the ground, opened it up, and inspected the contents.

  SA said nothing, as usual, but she also checked her equipment. Every razor-sharp knife caught the light and winked as she examined it. Like Gurt, she wore a leather harness that clung to her lithe form. It made the most practical use of the space to get as many knives on her person as she could physically carry. They were all strapped so tightly to her, she moved without a sound.

  For the first time since the fight in the canteen with Gurt, Seb relaxed a little. With no equipment to check, he focused on his deep breaths as he tried to centre himself.

  After a short while, Gurt seemed to be satisfied with the security of his blasters against his body and he turned his attention to Seb, as he often did when he got bored. “Why don’t you have any equipment?”

  At risk of sounding like a douche in front of SA, Seb raised his fists. “I don’t need anything more than these.” His fists and the ability he’d inherited from his mother. But Gurt didn’t need to know that.

  “How about some shooting practice?” Gurt suggested. The twinkle that sat in his red eyes whenever he tried to wind Seb up returned. Pleased with his own incredible wit, he flashed a facetious grin. “You could do with that.”

  But Seb didn’t respond and Sparks stepped between them before it went any further. “Right, where do we go?”

  “The fighting pits,” Seb said.

  The purple gaze of Sparks locked on Seb and she appraised him like she would an alcoholic asking to be taken to a bar. “Really?”

  “As foreigners to this planet,” Seb said, “the fighting pits are the one place I know where we won’t stand out. They’re always rammed with creatures from all over the galaxy. We go there and we can learn a lot about Caloon without raising suspicion.”

  An approving nod and Sparks looked at the other two. SA also nodded. Gurt remained silent. It wouldn’t get any better than that from him.

  Sparks had left her rucksack open, and when Seb saw a pair of binoculars on top of everything else, he leaned down, picked them up, and walked outside the cave.

  Back out in the elements without his warm clothing, Seb tensed up against the frigid blast of nature. He clenched his jaw and shivered as he put the binoculars to his eyes. He looked out over the slum and elevated area of Caloon. Fog hung heavy in the air, but he could just about see the shapes of buildings through the green glow of night vision. When he saw the pit amongst the small raggedy huts that made up the slums, he pulled the binoculars away and handed them to Sparks.

  Now Seb had seen it, the silhouette of the pit stood much clearer on the horizon for him. A huge colosseum of a place—as most of them were—he pointed for Sparks to see. “That has to be it.”

  Sparks handed the binoculars to Gurt, who used them before handing them to SA. When Seb took the binoculars back from SA, she held onto them a moment longer than he expected and the two looked at one another. A slow blink and she let go of them.

  “I’m not a fan of this plan,” Gurt said, bursting through the moment. “I mean, anything this rat says,” he said while pointing at Seb, “I’m tempted to do the exact opposite of. There must be a better idea than this.”

  Seb looked at Gurt, as did Sparks and SA. None of them spoke. After a few seconds, Gurt sighed and his shoulders sagged. “Fine, if it goes wrong, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Before either Seb or Sparks could reply, the sound of voices came at them from around the corner. As one, they all looked in the direction of the noise and withdrew back into the cave they’d just emerged from.

  “We saw something on the radar,” one of the voices said. A female voice, it sounded deep like it came from a creature of considerable size.

  “It could just be some space junk,” one of them replied. A male this time, his voice higher in pitch than the female’s.

  “But we have to check it out at least. Imagine if it was something and we didn’t do anything about it. The Countess would skin us alive.”

  The last comment silenced the group. It seemed like the beings in the Countess’ employ feared her like everyone else did.

  The rustling of a bag pulled Seb’s attention to the ground next to him. He saw Sparks rummaging through her things. When she stood up again, she had a small microphone plugged into her computer and she held it in the direction of the Crimson foot soldiers.

  “Hey,” one of the foot soldiers called out. “Look here! Footprints.”

  A deep breath to settle his rampaging heartbeat and Seb looked at the others. They didn’t need words at that moment. From the looks on their faces, Seb could tell they all knew things were about to get hairy.

  Chapter 22

  The crunch of boots moved through the snow towards them and Seb edged closer to the cave’s exit. Gurt and SA stepped forward with him, SA by his side, Gurt a little further back.

  The moon cast enough light to throw the shadows of the foot soldiers across the snow. There must have been at least ten of them. Adrenaline pulled Seb’s stomach tight and the edges of his world blurred as his gift kicked in.

  When the first of the Crimson foot soldiers came into view, Seb couldn’t identify its gender. Its face masked in shadow, it stood a little taller than him and a little wider. Not that gender mattered. When he saw the weak spot roughly where its nose should be, he lunged forward and drove a balled fist into it.

  Before the foot soldier had a chance to look up, it crumpled beneath the blow, its legs folding under it. It sparked the battle to life.

  Even when viewed in slow motion, SA moved like a tornado as she slipped out into the snow—a knife in each hand—and spun through the crowd of red robes.

  All different shapes and sizes, the foot soldiers numbered far more than the ten Seb had anticipated. Forty or more, most of them had blasters and, after the initial shock of the ambush, they all drew their weapons. As SA worked through them—her long limbs fluid in her movement—the guards fired several shots in retaliation, all of which missed.

  The weak spots of each creature stood out for Seb and he moved through the ones SA hadn’t yet got to. Each one went down with a single blow as he avoided their sluggish attacks.

  After he’d knocked out several of the brutes—his fists stinging from fighting in the cold—Seb caught sight of SA again. She moved with the poise of a ballerina, each graceful stroke controlled, seemingly choreographed for both beauty and deadly efficiency.

  White light exploded through Seb’s left eye and dragged him away from the mesmerising SA. He looked up to see a beast twice his size with fists like boulders. As he reeled from the blow, his world sped up.

  The chaos of the battle surrounded Seb: screams, cries, blaster fire. Slow motion rendered sound meaningless, and although it didn’t mute the battle, it stretched each noise out to the point where he didn’t hear it.

  At full speed
, the cacophony of the fight made Seb dizzy, SA turned into a blur, and Gurt spawned pyrotechnics from his blasters. He didn’t realise what Gurt could do until he saw him in real time. With his thick fingers working on the triggers, he released a constant stream of fire and every blast hit its mark.

  A shake of his head and Seb returned to slow motion just in time to duck the next blow from the brute that had already hit him.

  Seb’s legs coiled like springs as he dropped down, fueling his leap to explode back up again and catch the monster on the chin. A wet clap as fist connected with jaw, and the beast’s head snapped back. It stumbled for a second and then fell into the snow.

  Coming into line with SA’s moves, Seb joined in her dance, dodging, parrying, and punching his way through the crowd. The cold bit into his exposed skin, but he kept pace with the beautiful assassin and dropped faceless red robe after faceless red robe.

  Once they’d taken down every foot soldier, Seb’s world sped up again. He breathed heavily as he surveyed the damage. The reek of cauterised flesh rode the strong winds, lifting the beginnings of a heave in his stomach and forcing him to scrunch his nose up.

  Many of the foot soldiers lay dead in the snow. The only ones that hadn’t passed were the ones Seb had hit. Before he could think on what he should do with them, Gurt walked through the carnage and executed every one with a shot to the face.

  As much as Seb wanted to be brave in front of SA, he flinched to watch a hole bored into the centre of each guard’s head. A wet squelch and another acrid kick of seared skin responded to each of Gurt’s blasts.

  A search of the bodies only turned up blasters and one walkie-talkie. Sparks walked out into the bloodstained snow with the walkie-talkie in her hand. She lifted her small computer up next to it and pressed the button to speak into it.

  The sound from her computer made no sense to Seb; it was a foreign dialect he couldn’t understand. Because Sparks’ computer didn’t have a translator chip implanted, it must have been how the soldiers sounded when they spoke to their base.

  A few seconds later, Sparks discarded the walkie-talkie and looked at the other three. “I just told them the object on the radar was probably some space junk. That we hadn’t seen anything after a thorough search of the mountain.”

  “So that’s why you recorded the other soldiers when they first arrived?”

  Sparks smiled, the purple glow of her eyes lighting up.

  The snow crunched beneath Gurt’s feet as he walked forward and shook his head. “So much for coming in unnoticed. What else has Moses failed to grasp about this mission?”

  “I think it’s safe to assume our intelligence isn’t very,” Seb said.

  None of the group spoke as the snow swirled around them in the fierce wind.

  “Right,” Sparks said and clapped her long-fingered hands together. She chewed the inside of her mouth and looked around. “We’re on our own from here on out. The first thing we need to do is get away from this place. Someone will come looking for this lot sooner or later.”

  “Do you think we should hide their bodies in the cave?” Seb said.

  “Have you looked around at the snow?” Gurt replied. “Whether we hide them in the cave or not, it’s hard to avoid the fact a massacre happened.”

  Gurt might have had a point, but as always, his words were dripping in condescension.

  Chapter 23

  A dark wood of densely packed trees covered the steep slope down to the edge of the slums of Caloon. Now the group had reached the same level as the slums, they left the fierce cold behind and Seb’s numb extremities tingled as they heated up. Or rather, they had not gotten any colder at least. The temperature certainly hadn’t reached anywhere close to warm.

  At the rear of the group, Seb walked directly behind Gurt. The large Mandulu might have moved with a wide strut, his heavy legs and feet connecting with the ground with a solid thud, but he couldn’t hide his limp, even if he’d tried. Only subtle—a part of his walk even—Seb had seen Gurt’s weakness in the pit simulation, and now it seemed glaringly obvious to him. If the others had noticed, they hadn’t said anything yet.

  At the front of the line, Sparks flapped soundlessly and jumped to the side of the path as if she’d trodden in something she’d rather not have. She turned and said something to SA and Gurt before Gurt turned to Seb. “Their shit runs through the streets, keep to the side of the path.”

  A blanket of fog covered the small huts that had seemingly been made from whatever the residents could find. The small dwellings looked to jostle for position in the cramped space. The paths probably only remained free of them because the sewage needed to run somewhere. Despite the waste, at least it gave them a clear route through the place.

  Guided by the light of the full moon, Seb looked out over the silver glow of the fog and the thousands of rooftops. Canvas, rusty tin, straw … Like the walls of the small huts, the roofs had been covered over with anything that would do the job.

  Despite it being nighttime, many different beings walked the streets. They moved in the shadows with their attention on the ground, and no one spoke to one another. Maybe neighbours communed in the privacy of their homes, but from what Seb had seen so far, it looked like they’d entered a hideously antisocial planet.

  The strong ammonia reek of urine and the heady stench of shit forced Seb to pinch his nose as he walked. To breathe through his mouth seemed like the best option. It banished the smell, but he couldn’t ignore the fact he had to inhale the noxious atmosphere instead. A slight funk lay as a stale taste on his tongue and he did his best to disregard it.

  Although Seb had dumped his ski jacket, he still wore a thick coat. The chill in the air wrapped around his throat, so he zipped up against it. Fortunately both Gurt and SA had also brought coats with them. They might have been carrying enough weapons between them to topple a small planet, but because they hid them, they wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable confrontation the open display of arms would bring.

  The fighting pit stood so prominent on the skyline, the party didn’t need to talk to one another as they walked toward it. In the wordless streets, they needed to blend in. Behave like the locals and they’d remain invisible in plain sight.

  The occasional cry of a small child pierced the air, only to be silenced by their caregiver with cooing and a soft voice. Seb caught smells of spices and cooking meat. Without the spice, it smelled as if the residents were eating tripe; fortunately, he smelled spice more often than not.

  After a fifteen-minute walk, the group entered a square. Seb looked over at the pit on the skyline. Hard to tell in the foggy dark, but they seemed to have halved the distance between them and it.

  The open space—the first one they’d seen since they’d entered the slum—looked like it would be used as a communal area for such things as trading. It currently stood empty, but no doubt saw plenty of activity during the day.

  Then Seb heard something and he froze. He looked at the others, and they’d snapped as rigid as him. The heavy thud of boots spoke of an army descending on the square. The dark hid their approach, but as the sound of the marchers got louder, the red cloaks of the Crimson foot soldiers came in from every angle.

  Seb’s heart jumped into his throat. He drew a deep breath and spoke from the side of his mouth. “I knew we should have hidden those bodies.”

  Chapter 24

  The team of four pulled in tight to one another and watched the sea of red descend on them.

  “I think we should take the fight to them,” Seb said beneath his breath as he watched more cloaks step from the mist and enter the square.

  Sparks shook her head. “We’re ready for it should we need to be, but let them make the first move; we still don’t entirely know where this will end up.”

  “If we wait, we lose the advantage.”

  “What if they’re not here for us?”

  “They’re clearly here for us.”

  The edges of Seb’s world had already bl
urred. He stepped forward and Gurt raised a halting hand at him. “Sparks is right, just wait a second.”

  “What do you know?”

  Before Seb could step forward again, a strong grip wrapped around his left biceps. Ready to throw it off, he turned to meet SA’s glowing stare and stopped dead. To have her touch him sent his heart aflutter. A heavy sigh and he nodded at her. She touched him because he needed to chill out, not for any other reason.

  Five foot soldiers moved toward them. Tense and ready to go, Seb balled his fists, but the foot soldiers showed no interest in a brawl. Instead, they encouraged the four to step to the edge of the square with a gentle shooing motion of their hands.

  “See?” Sparks said as they backed off. “They’re not here for us.”

  The rest of the red robes walked into the square. They came at it from every side as if birthed from the low-lying fog that hung over the place. Once they’d all got in, they formed a ring around the edge. They left just enough space for Seb, his crew, and a few others to stand in the square outside of them. Whatever they had planned at that moment they seemed to have zero awareness of the Shadow Order.

  A gap parted in the foot soldiers on the opposite side of the square to Seb and the others. Another two cloaked soldiers walked into the centre with a human boy between them. The kid looked no older than about ten. Skinny, pale, and clearly petrified, he had no defence against the guards on either side of him.

  When they thrust him forward, the boy fell and yelped as his skinny knees crashed against the hard and dark stone. He’d landed at the feet of a particularly large soldier. He looked up and the light from the moon caught the glisten of tears against his cheeks. His cherub face hung loose with distress.

  The large foot soldier in front of him presented a shiny curved blade to the boy. He offered it as if in reverence of the weapon. It glistened like the kid’s tears.