The Alpha Plague 5: A Post-Apocalyptic Action Thriller

by Michael Robertson

  Vicky said nothing in reply and Hugh elaborated. “We need to clean the solar panels. These things are our life source. Without them, we’re fucked. I clean them every few weeks. Now I have help, we can get it done in half the time.”

  The spaces between the solar panels created a maze of walkways. Vicky thought about the swarm of diseased that had rushed through them to get to her. She drew a deep breath as she scanned the horizon.

  “Let’s get this done, then,” she said, and ran down the grassy bank to the first of the panels.

  Chapter Twenty

  Despite the threat of the diseased hovering over them, the day passed without incident. They had spent anywhere from two to four hours outside, but now Vicky stood next to Hugh in the monitor room of Home, she finally relaxed. “It felt good to get out there today. I know it’s dangerous, but I’ve missed being outside.”

  “Maybe if we get some of the people outside, they’ll remember that feeling too,” Hugh said. “UV lights and recycled air can keep them alive, but they could have so much more.”

  As Hugh spoke, Vicky watched the monitors. The black and white grainy images showed a still world beyond the front door of Home, a haunted world. “When do you think the diseased will die out?”

  “I thought they would have been gone within the first six months. Shows what I know, huh?”

  Vicky didn’t reply. She’d thought the same thing. Had she known then that a decade later she’d still be the minority species on the planet, then maybe she wouldn’t have had the fight to see it through. It didn’t bear thinking about how long the diseased would last for. They knew how to hunt and they seemed more resilient than humans, so maybe they would end up being the dominant species on Earth.

  When Hugh spoke, it snapped her from her daze. “You wanna record the next radio broadcast?”

  Vicky remembered sitting in her container, listening to her windup radio, and her mouth dried. “What will I say? Who knows how many people are listening to that message, pinning their hopes on a better life. I’m not sure I could do it justice.”

  “You could maybe tell your story briefly. Show other people that they’re welcome here. Be an inspiration to them.”

  When Hugh handed a Dictaphone to Vicky, she took it and smiled. It made sense that she should do the next broadcast. She cleared her throat and pressed the record button. “If you’re anything like me, you’ve found a radio of some sort and you’re living in some kind of hole or tree house or barricaded in the basement of an old mansion.” After a slight pause, she relaxed a little. “Wherever you are, I bet you don’t have enough food, you have no electricity, and you haven’t had a warm shower in years. When I heard my first broadcast from Home, I knew I needed to come here, and I’m glad I did. I’ve been here for less than a week and it’s the most comfort I’ve had since the outbreak. They have beds, warm showers, electricity, running water, and food. All we ask of those who come here is that you’re prepared to help out and that you come with peace in your hearts. We’re a thriving community and we want to continue to grow our numbers. The diseased aren’t going anywhere. To beat them, we need to take the fight to them. Come and join us in taking our world back.”

  After she’d pressed the stop button, Vicky handed the Dictaphone back to Hugh, who smiled from ear to ear.

  “That’s nice to see,” Vicky said.

  “What?”

  “You smiling. It’s been a few days. It’s nice to see it return.”

  “It’s nice for it to return.” Hugh then said, “I saw the way you looked at Jessica when she brought the dead animals to the kitchen. We have some weapons locked in a room in one of the back corridors. Wanna go out hunting tomorrow?”

  Vicky smiled and nodded several times. “Yes! I sure do.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  They reached one of the many locked doors and Vicky stood back as Hugh opened it to reveal the room beyond. When she saw the rack of baseball bats along the back wall, she grinned. “Oh my!”

  With a nod, Hugh swung his arm into the room as if to invite Vicky to enter. She took him up on his offer and walked in.

  As she’d seen from the corridor, one wall had been exclusively dedicated to bats of all shapes and sizes. Baseball bats, cricket bats, rounders bats. Despite her urge to reach out and grab one, Vicky turned to take in the rest of the room. A small section of crossbows, some longbows, knives, swords … Vicky paused as she looked at them. When she reached out for the shotgun, Hugh said, “Don’t bother.”

  Stopping mid-reach, Vicky turned to the man. “Huh?”

  “We ran out of cartridges a long time ago. They’re useless now. We keep them in case we find more ammo, but I don’t think we will. Besides, the noise attracts the attention of the diseased anyway.”

  “So when I first came here and you had one …?”

  “Yep, it was empty. The sight of them, like the gas masks, tends to give us the edge we need when bringing new people into Home.”

  After she’d shaken her head at Hugh, Vicky looked at all of the weapons again. When she saw a catapult similar to the one she’d used herself, she reached out and grabbed it. She slipped it into her back pocket, the familiar press of it against her butt offering her a reassuring calm. She also picked up a baseball bat and a crossbow.

  “You can shoot one of them things, can you?” Hugh asked as he looked at the bow, his eyebrows arced in a slightly condescending manner.

  “What are you saying? That because I’m a woman I can’t shoot? Of course I can shoot one of these, can you?”

  A wry smile and Hugh laughed as he shook his head. “Chill your boots, love. I’ve seen you fight; I don’t think you being a woman impairs you in any way shape or form. I was merely saying it because I can’t shoot them for shit. I think they’re a nightmare.”

  Vicky laughed and then winked at him. “Maybe I can teach you one day.”

  The apparent stress of the past day or so seemed to have lifted from Hugh’s burdened shoulders, and he grinned back at her, a sparkle in his eyes. “Maybe.”

  Now Vicky had loaded herself up, she watched Hugh lift a katana, an axe, and a catapult also. When he lifted a brown sack about the same size as a bag of sugar, it jangled like it contained glass. He passed it to Vicky, who opened it up and grinned broader than before when she peered inside. “Oh my.” The glass orbs—some milky white, some silver, some swirled with greens, reds, and blues—stared back up at her. “Marbles! Where did you get these from?”

  “There were plenty of toy shops left with all of their stock in. Marbles have to be the perfect ammunition for a catapult, right?”

  But Vicky didn’t reply. Instead, she stared at the bag of marbles for a few seconds longer before she tied it to her belt.

  A chill gripped a hold of Vicky and snapped a shiver through her. The room clearly remained locked most of the time, so it wouldn’t ever have the chance to warm up. When she looked up to see Hugh watching her, she smiled at him and he smiled back.

  “You ready to go?” he said.

  Just before Vicky nodded for them to leave, she saw what looked like a harness of sorts. It hung on the same peg that she’d retrieved her crossbow from. “Is that …?”

  Hugh nodded.

  After she’d handed her crossbow to Hugh, Vicky grabbed the harness and slipped it on. She then took the heavy crossbow back and fitted it so it clung to her back. A couple of pulls adjusted the straps so it sat tight against her body. “This’ll make things a lot easier!”

  With her catapult in her back pocket and her bat in a two-handed grip, Vicky turned to Hugh. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

  ***

  A group of four young people between the ages of about ten and fourteen sat in one corner of the canteen. Unlike adults, who would often mirror one another with their body language, they all sat in different poses as if fighting for their identity among their peers. When they looked up at Hugh and Vicky approaching them, they fell into line, all of them straightening their backs and
their eyes widening at the sight of the two heavily armed guards. The girl from yesterday sat among the group and she blushed when she saw Hugh.

  A glance at Hugh, and Vicky saw his stern expression. She elbowed him, which threw him a little off balance. “Smile at them, for God’s sake. They’re kids and you scare the life out of them.”

  Although Hugh tried to do as Vicky had asked, it looked more like a pained grimace than a warm gesture. He managed the kind of greedy smile cannibals would flash their victims. For the briefest moment she thought of Zander at the shopping mall and her skin crawled. A shake of her head banished the image and Vicky strode out in front of Hugh so the kids could see her rather than him.

  “Hi, guys,” she said when she got close enough.

  None of the kids replied, their eyes shifting from Vicky to Hugh and back to Vicky again.

  “We need some help on the front door again today. Hugh and I are going out hunting, and we need to make sure we have someone there to let us back in when we return.”

  The group remained silent.

  A glance around the canteen and Vicky saw that she and Hugh were the focus of everyone’s attention. And why wouldn’t they be with the amount of weapons they had on them?

  Vicky turned back to the kids, all of them frozen in their seats. “Come on, then, let’s go.”

  The kids did as they’d been ordered to and they all got up. Without a word, they followed Vicky and Hugh up the stairs to the entranceway of Home.

  At the top of the stairs, Vicky and Hugh waited for the reluctant gang to join them. The girl from the other day visibly shook in Hugh’s presence.

  “We’ve brought four of you up here,” Vicky said, “so you can take it in shifts. Two at a time, we need you looking out for us until we return. Maybe do your shifts in three-hour slots, okay?”

  “How long do you think you’ll be?” one of the boys asked before he instantly flushed red.

  He jumped when Hugh responded instead of Vicky. “Hopefully not too long. But you never know with these things.”

  What were rosy cheeks drained of their colour and the boy dropped his attention to his feet.

  “Right,” Vicky said, “any more questions?”

  The kids shook their heads as one.

  “Good.”

  After she’d snapped the two bolts free, Vicky pulled the door wide and let the breeze toss her hair. Just inhaling the fresh air made her heart kick in her chest as her life essence surged. She let Hugh out first and said, “Just make sure you see us when we come back, okay?”

  Again the kids responded in unison, nodding their agreement at her.

  After Vicky had stepped outside, she stared out in front of Home while listening to the door close behind her and the locks slip back into place. Stood in the fresh breeze, she drew another deep lungful of the clean air. A kick of adrenaline surged through her, sharpening her senses and heightening her awareness to both prey and predator.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The pair had walked for about fifteen minutes through the long grass before the river that Vicky had crossed on her way to Home came into view.

  “I dread to think how many more diseased we’d see were this river not here,” Hugh said.

  Whilst staring at the body of water—her trousers damp with dew—Vicky thought about her solitary journey to Home after she’d left Flynn.

  The strong wind stung Vicky’s eyes and she blinked several times to ease her discomfort. She then looked at her surroundings. In such an overgrown world, the diseased could come from anywhere. Despite the beauty of the lush and vibrant landscape, she couldn’t forget that every long patch of grass or overgrown bush could conceal a diseased waiting to attack.

  When Vicky got closer to the river, she looked down. Two large blue barrels that had been bound with wood and vines had been dragged up the riverbank. “That must have been the raft Flynn used when he came here.”

  “Huh?” Hugh asked.

  “He can’t swim.”

  The confused frown lifted from Hugh’s face. “I suppose they don’t have Sunday morning swimming lessons at the local leisure centre anymore.”

  “Exactly.”

  Tracks ran away from the makeshift raft down into the water, and Vicky imagined Flynn on his own, dragging the vessel out as the diseased called at him from the other side. The burn of tears itched her eyes and a lump swelled in her throat. “I can’t believe I left him. The poor kid must have been petrified.”

  Hugh said nothing as the sound of moving water washed between them.

  After a deep breath, Vicky said, “We may as well use the raft, eh?”

  Hugh grinned at her.

  “What?”

  When he looked at a tree close to them, Vicky snapped, “What? What are you looking at?”

  Still without a word, Hugh walked over to the tree and stuck his hands into the leaves that coated its trunk. When he pulled a thick rope out, weighted with a lump of wood that had been tied horizontally along the bottom of it, Vicky smiled too. “That would have saved me a lot of hassle had I known it was there. Flynn too.”

  “It would have been on the wrong side for you.”

  “That’s true.”

  Hugh sheathed his sword, put his axe beneath his right arm, slipped the swing between his legs, jumped backwards to add to his momentum, and flew out across the river. Mid-swing, Hugh shifted, so when he arrived at the bank on the other side, he slipped off and landed on the grass, the rope still in his grip.

  Vicky moved over to where Hugh had swung from and waited for him to throw the swing back to her.

  Minus the weight of a fully grown adult, the swing only just made its return journey. On the edge of her balance, Vicky hooked the rope, her stomach lurching from the prospect of a fall into the water below.

  For a few seconds, Vicky held the swing and stood with her feet firmly on the ground. Then, as Hugh had done, she sat on the swing and launched herself across to the other side.

  Were Vicky not so concerned with staying dry, she might have enjoyed the exhilaration of the ride. Instead, she tried to copy Hugh in adjusting her position halfway over the river, and when she came to the bank on the other side, she slid from the seat and leapt for it, the swing still in her right hand, her baseball bat in her left.

  Although she landed on the bank, she’d hit the ground as the swing headed back the other way. The momentum pulled her toward the river, and for a moment, everything dropped into slow motion.

  Several clumsy steps and Vicky held onto the rope as it dragged her back toward the water. She couldn’t let it go. Not after Hugh’s ten point zero landing. Although, as she hopped on one leg ever closer to a wet plummet, she loosened her grip. Rather the rope than her.

  Just before she completely let it go, she came to an abrupt stop. Anchored by her belt, Vicky turned around to see Hugh grinning at her again as he held her in place with a tight grip on the back of her trousers.

  Vicky stared at Hugh and Hugh stared back. Neither spoke. Maybe she’d been wrong not to trust him.

  Because they’d been staring at one another for too long to be comfortable, Vicky shook her head, handed the swing to Hugh, and walked past him. She looked out in the direction they were headed. They couldn’t switch off to the danger of the diseased. Not even for a second.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  As they walked, Hugh shook his head and laughed again. “Your face on that swing.”

  “All right, Dick Grayson.”

  A confused frown came Vicky’s way and she batted the comment off with a wave of her hand. Comics meant little to society ten years ago, let alone now. “Don’t worry.”

  For the past ten minutes, Vicky had been able to see the huge buildings on the horizon, and for the past ten minutes, she expected them to take a diversion. “At the risk of sounding soft—”

  Hugh looked at her.

  “—we’re not going in there, are we?”

  The long grass swished from both the wind and t
he path the pair cut through it. The humour left Hugh’s features and he said, “Of course we are. Where else do you think we should go?”

  The old city stood on the horizon as a ghost of what it must have once been. Many buildings had been reduced to skeletons from fire. Those that hadn’t been burned stood ragged with neglect. It didn’t look much different from Biggin Hill by the time they’d left it, but Vicky knew Biggin Hill; she’d spent a decade there and she’d watched it deteriorate.

  “Do we need to go in there to hunt animals? Wouldn’t it be better out in the open?” God, she sounded like Flynn the first time he left the airport.

  “Firstly,” Hugh said as he pulled up to a stop next to her and held his hand at about chest height, level with the tops of the grass, “look at how tall this grass is. Anything could hide in here and we wouldn’t have a hope in hell of seeing it, let alone killing it. Secondly, the cities seem to attract the animals to them. Almost like they expect to find something worth scavenging like they did a decade ago when humans did nothing but produce waste.”

  Both points seemed valid, and when Vicky thought back to Biggin Hill, her best hunting had come from within the town. Besides, she knew this world. She knew the diseased. Sure, she didn’t know the city in front of her, but she knew how to deal with the threats that no doubt waited inside it. Hell, even with Hugh’s army training, she could probably deal with it better than he could.

  When Vicky didn’t reply, Hugh nodded and set off again through the long grass.

  ***

  As with most main roads that entered big towns and cities, this one sat as a wide mess of cracked asphalt. Nature had destroyed the upper crust of the road as grass grew through it. Slowly determined—like the tortoise—nature had won where humans had tried to oppress it. The buildings—covered in vines and leaves, walls cracked from where plants grew through them—showed how nature had wrapped a strong grip around the throat of human architecture. What had seemed like permanent structures were being consumed by the environment.