The Alpha Plague (Book 5)

by Michael Robertson

  The girl nodded again.

  “Good,” Hugh said and shoved a chair over to her with his foot.

  Nausea flipped in Vicky’s guts as she watched the girl stand on the chair. After the second heavy crack, she opened the door to let them outside.

  Obviously used to this, Hugh and Jessica stepped out without hesitation. And maybe they didn’t see it in Vicky, but reluctance tugged on her frame as she followed them. After she’d been so judgmental of Hugh when Serj fell over, maybe she should have been bolder in leaving Home. Jessica slipped her long machete into a sheath she wore on her back. Neither Vicky nor Hugh had a weapon on them. Hopefully they wouldn’t need them.

  Without another word, Hugh set off at a jog toward the three people. Vicky and Jessica followed.

  Not the first time Vicky had been outside of the community, but she hadn’t worn a gas mask before. Sure, it made them look as freaky as hell, but it seemed like a large compromise considering the loss of peripheral vision. The uneven ground also presented more of a challenge, the large snout blocking her line of sight, so she wouldn’t notice the potholes and undulations as they ran.

  Two men and a woman, the three new people stopped and raised their hands as if they’d had a gun pointed at them. They looked dirty, unshaven, and exhausted. God knew where they’d come from.

  All three of them watched Hugh through wide eyes in their dirty faces.

  “Welcome to Home,” he said. “If you come here with peace in your heart, know that we will always have space for you.”

  None of the three spoke.

  Jessica stepped forward. “Hi, guys, let us take you inside so we can get you cleaned up and rested, okay?”

  The woman seemed more distressed than the others as she stared at Jessica and shivered. She looked to be in her forties. She had wild matted hair and pale skin.

  “Okay?” Jessica repeated.

  The woman nodded and her entire body shook.

  The sound of the heavy wind pulled Vicky’s attention away and she spun on the spot to take in her surroundings. At least she had her hearing should any of the diseased approach. It seemed clear.

  After Jessica and Hugh had grabbed someone each, Vicky took the arm of the last man and they all headed back toward Home at a gentle jog.

  Although Vicky pulled on the man, he tugged against her, tired reluctance in his heavy frame. The ground, uneven beneath her feet, the long grass whipping her legs, and now the man who couldn’t run any quicker than a jog, all put Vicky on edge. They just needed a herd of diseased to complete the picture.

  The crack of the two bolts snapped through the air when they got close to Home, and the small girl opened the door, a grim set to her small face as she pulled it wider.

  First Jessica and Hugh ran in with their charges, and then Vicky followed behind with the slow man.

  The second they stepped inside, Vicky pulled her mask away and breathed the fresher air. Her skin had turned damp with sweat, and it now cooled down as the moisture evaporated from her face.

  The three newest arrivals looked bewildered as they stared from Hugh to Vicky then to Jessica, and none of them spoke. The woman in the group continued to shake and shiver as she drew stuttered breaths through her clenched teeth. A sheen of sweat covered her pale skin. She reminded Vicky of an addict going through withdrawal.

  After Hugh had put the three gas masks away, he offered his hand to the group one at a time. “Hi, I’m Hugh. Welcome to Home.”

  Although clearly shocked, the slightest moment of hope lifted the faces of all three of the new arrivals. They didn’t seem to want to allow themselves the relief at that moment. And living in the world they did, why should they? Things went wrong in this life. Things went wrong pretty fucking quickly.

  After Jessica had shaken their hands, Vicky did the same. She got to the woman last, and as Vicky held her hand, she froze. When she looked into the woman’s fearful eyes, she saw it. Suddenly the woman’s state made sense.

  Dropping the woman’s hand like she would a hot coal, Vicky stepped back from her. “She’s been bitten.”

  A ring of steel sounded out as Jessica drew her machete, raised it above her head, and glared at the woman.

  The woman shook her head. “No, no, it’s … it’s just a cut, honestly.”

  The ice queen that Vicky had met when she first came to home resurfaced in Jessica, who kept a hold of her blade and remained fixed on the woman. “Show me.”

  Grief buckled the woman’s face and her eyes filled with tears. Hysteria gripped a hold of her and she grabbed her forearm. “I’ve not been bitten.”

  The two men by her side glanced at one another.

  When she picked up on this, the woman shook her head some more. “Please, it’s only a cut. I’ve not been bitten.”

  The woman looked at Jessica as if to appeal to her softer side. Ice stared back at her and Jessica said in a low growl, “Show me your fucking arm.”

  A shake, more violent than before, ran through the woman as she pulled her sleeve back. A deep gash sat in her pale skin that belched dark red blood. So clearly a bite, Vicky saw the individual teeth marks in the wound.

  Silence swept through the entranceway. The two men watched with their eyes on stalks. Jessica cocked an eyebrow at the woman. The woman stopped shaking, frozen in her fear.

  As cold as her glare, Jessica stepped closer to the woman and said, “We can’t let you put this community in danger.”

  Vicky might have had most of her attention on the woman and her pale fear, but she didn’t miss Hugh pull the small girl toward him. After a quick word in her ear, he gently nudged her away and she ran down the stairs into the canteen. She didn’t need to see this.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The silence seemed to last an age as Vicky watched Jessica stare down at the scruffy and infected woman. The woman recoiled from Jessica, who continued to hold her machete aloft, tense and ready to use it.

  The pound of Vicky’s heart beat so heavily it damn near rocked her where she stood.

  The gentle footsteps of Serj broke through the moment as he limped up the stairs and over to the front door of Home. As if in support of his love’s tough choice, he pulled the first lock free with a snap before he leaned down—wincing from the clear discomfort in his ankle—and released the second. Both loud cracks called out as a judge’s gavel would when condemning a criminal. No quarter would be given.

  When Serj pulled the door wide, the strong wind rushed into the place and stirred up the muddy smell of dirt on the three newest arrivals. The chill ran goosebumps along Vicky’s arms, and her entire frame tensed against the need to shiver. A glance across at both men and she realised that she too stood as stunned as them, wide-eyed and with her mouth hanging open.

  When Jessica pointed her machete at the open door, the woman shook her head. Her messy hair waved with the motion, and her frantic words spilled from her mouth. “No, no, no. Please, don’t do this. Please, I’m okay, honestly. It’s nothing, I’ll be fine …” Her last word trailed off into sobs.

  But Jessica didn’t back down. Instead, she continued to glare at the woman and pointed her machete in the direction of the open door again.

  The woman drew a deep breath, but before she could protest again, Jessica darted forward.

  The movement made Vicky jump and she let out a startled yelp.

  In one swift movement, Jessica grabbed the woman’s skinny arm and threw her at the door.

  The woman’s clumsy footsteps played a beat against the floor and she nearly fell. Hunched by the entranceway to Home like a scolded dog that wouldn’t leave, no matter how many times it got beaten, the woman cried freely. Tears mixed with snot as they streaked her dirty face. Her mouth bent out of shape. “We’ve fought so hard to get here. Twelve of us set out and only three of us have survived.”

  “Two,” Hugh said, his tone cold as he moved next to Jessica and looked at the woman, his arms folded across his chest.

  For the briefest
moment, the woman looked from Jessica to Hugh and back to Jessica before she broke down again.

  Jessica sighed. The sound probably sounded like impatience to the two men who didn’t know Jessica well, but Vicky—who didn’t know her much better—recognised it as regret. Jessica shoved the woman again, so she ended up outside of Home.

  Once Jessica had followed the woman outside, one of the men—the short squat one, his hair and beard both long and dirty—turned to Hugh. “Come on, man, surely there must be another way?”

  Disgust wiped a sneer across Hugh’s face. “Are you new or something?” he asked. “Or maybe you know something I don’t? Please, tell me how you’ve managed to cure people who have been bitten before?”

  A slight pause and the man said, “What if it’s not a bite?”

  Because she’d seen it more clearly than Hugh had, Vicky stepped forward. As a guard for Home, they needed to be united on this. “Her wound has teeth marks in it. How can that not be a bite?”

  When the man turned to Vicky, a darkness stirred behind his eyes that forced Vicky back a couple of paces. Something about his silent glare held a threat to all of their safety.

  “Look,” Hugh said, “drop the attitude, yeah? We’re prepared to take you two in, feed you, look after you, and help nurse you back to full strength. So a little gratitude would be nice. Also, we’re just about to put your travelling companion out of her misery so you don’t have to. Unless you want to go out there with her and watch her turn into one of those things, then I suggest you shut the fuck up.” With a tiny gap between his thumb and forefinger, Hugh held it up at the man. “I’m this close to turning you two away, just so you know.”

  The man dropped his head and shoulders with a weighted sigh and focused on the ground. His friend—the taller one of the two, who also had the same dirty look to his blond and dishevelled hair—also kept quiet. But he didn’t look down. Instead, he looked from the bitten woman to Jessica. His eyes were bloodshot like those of an alcoholic.

  A flash of movement outside pulled Vicky’s attention from the two men to Jessica. The woman had run back at the entranceway to Home, and Jessica shoved her away with such force, the woman stumbled and landed on her arse. Grief twisted the woman’s lank features as she remained on the ground and stared up.

  When she moved to get up again, Jessica raised a hand at her. “Stay there.” What she said next turned Vicky’s blood to ice. “It’ll be easier on both of us.”

  The woman looked like she still intended to stand up.

  “I’m being serious. Your time’s up and you need to accept that. I know life hasn’t been easy since the disease, but no one can help you now.”

  A feral scream and the woman jumped to her feet and ran at Jessica again.

  This time, Jessica stepped forward with her machete and yelled back. She brought the old rusty weapon over in a wide arc. The woman raised her arm to block it, but flesh had little to offer against the force of the sharp blade.

  A wet squelch as the weapon cut a deep gash in the woman’s arm, and the crazed woman screamed again and fell away. As she rolled on the ground, Jessica closed in on her, shutting her down.

  The woman lifted her hand up at Jessica, the fresh wound on her arm gushing blood.

  With her jaw clenched, Jessica drove another heavy blow against the cowering woman. This time the blade buried in the woman’s raised palm and split her hand in two. A heave lifted through Vicky and she looked away. Maybe she imagined it, but at that moment she could smell the metallic reek of spilled blood.

  Only able to listen to the rest of the fight, Vicky heard Jessica grunt before the squelch of the blade as it embedded in the woman again. The woman’s scream came out as shrill and ear-splitting. When Vicky glanced back up, her mind struggled to see the scene in front of her clearly, her thoughts scrambled because of the sheer amount of spilled blood.

  While it happened, it seemed to last a lifetime. And then it ended. The crazed woman lay still on the ground, red and glistening in her own blood. Her sunken eyes sat wide on her gaunt face. Jessica stood over her and gasped for breath, remorse hanging from her features.

  Both of the men who’d arrived with the recently executed woman stared out of the window at their dead friend. When Hugh grabbed the arm of one of them—the taller and slimmer of the two—the man pulled it away.

  “Have you changed your mind?” Hugh said to him, clearly wound up from the brutal execution he’d just witnessed. “Do you want to leave? Because I’m starting to think that might be for the best.”

  The fight visibly left the man and he allowed Hugh to drag him away. Serj grabbed the other man, who continued to look over his shoulder as they walked off. Despite Serj’s limp, the man didn’t fight him, but he did say, “I’m not going to let her get away with that.”

  A hard shove from Serj and the man stumbled forward. Normally calm, Serj stared at him, his teeth clenched as fury burned in his dark eyes. “If I hear you speak about my partner once more, I will personally gut you. You got that?”

  Instead of a reply, the man followed his friend and Hugh down the stairs toward the canteen.

  When Hugh called back to Vicky, his voice echoed in the tunnelled stairs. “Go out and help Jessica with the body, please. She may have brought the disease to our door, but the woman deserves to be buried.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The dead woman had been so covered in her own blood that Vicky couldn’t avoid getting it on her as she helped Jessica carry the corpse up the small hill that led to the back of Home. If she hadn’t smelled the metallic reek of spilled claret before, it damn near clogged her nostrils now; the fierce wind was no match for the stench of death.

  When they reached the top, Vicky’s chest tight from the effort, she looked at Jessica; the woman seemed as calm as she always did, her tight ponytail holding fast against the strong breeze. The ice queen took on an entirely different meaning now. Jessica would do things the others couldn’t. “So where do we bury her?”

  After she’d scoffed at her, Jessica said, “You don’t believe that we actually bury people, do you? You poor woman. We don’t bury anyone here.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Why would we? Especially with the racket that woman made. I guarantee you that any diseased within a five-mile radius heard her screams, and they’re heading toward us right now. I don’t know about you, but I ain’t prepared to risk my life for her.”

  With the weight of the woman still pulling on her arms, Vicky shifted to get more comfortable, the blood on her hands making it hard to keep a tight grip on the corpse. A snap of her head to the side to flick her hair from her face and she said, “So where do we put her?”

  Jessica led them a short distance along the ridge.

  When Vicky saw a collection of bodies, she baulked. “What the hell?”

  “People die, Vicky, and we need to put the bodies somewhere.”

  “And all of the people they left behind believe they were buried out here?”

  “Yep.”

  Flies flew around the pile of corpses, each body at a different stage of decomposition. Maggots crawled over them in a writhing mass of white. The continual pulpy movement somehow animated the inanimate.

  “Why didn’t you just lock the woman out and sound the alarm?” Vicky said.

  “Because sometimes we don’t need to make a big song and dance about killing people. It’s not good for morale. It’s different when someone loses the plot inside of Home. That’s a risk to our safety, if nothing else, and it comforts those on the right side of sanity that we can’t tolerate such instability. But this woman came to us for help and we buried a machete in her.”

  Vicky admired the fact that Jessica got shit done, but maybe she took her cold detachment too far. As Vicky continued to look at the rotting remains, she shook her head. “I still think we should bury her.”

  “And who’s going to dig the hole? Do you know how long that’ll take?” A shrug and Jessica looked away fr
om Vicky as if to survey the land around Home. “I’m happy to leave you here, but I need you to make a decision now because I’m not going to wait around while you get all emotional.”

  The words stung and Vicky clenched her jaw so she didn’t tell Jessica to go fuck herself; it wouldn’t get them anywhere and would only validate Jessica’s assessment of her.

  With her attention back on Vicky, Jessica said, “So you want me to leave you here, do you?”

  Vicky shook her head.

  “Right then,”—Jessica swung the corpse—“we need to launch her. Three … two … one …” On one they let go of the woman and Vicky watched her fly through the air, her limbs limp from death and yet to suffer the effects of rigour mortis.

  Before she’d landed with a wet thump, Jessica had turned her back on the dead woman and headed back down toward Home’s entrance. “Come on, Vicky,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and get cleaned up.”

  What could Vicky do? She could hardly give the woman a ceremony. A few more seconds passed, during which time Vicky stared at the dead and bloody corpse before she chased off down the hill after Jessica. She had to care less if she were to help run the community. Hard decisions had to be made from time to time, and she couldn’t always expect Jessica to make them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There might have been a two-hour window for breakfast, but when Flynn and Vicky arrived with half an hour to go, it seemed like most of the community had the same idea. Like when Vicky used to stay in cheap hotels with a similar policy, the last thirty minutes saw the place fill up with bleary-eyed guests as they munched on sausages—which seemed to be filled with anything but pork—and hash browns.

  As Vicky spooned another mouthful of the plain wheat cereal into her mouth, she screwed her face up at the stale flavour of the powdered milk. Maybe the people in Home had acquired the taste for it, but for Vicky, her stomach responded to every swallow with the beginning of a heave. More watery than before from what must have been a thinning of their supplies, she munched the cereal without enthusiasm and sighed.