The Alpha Plague 7

by Michael Robertson

  An arm came over Flynn’s right shoulder and placed a plate in front of him. It had a cooked bird on it that looked like a pigeon, although it smelled great. A smile at the woman who’d delivered his food and he turned to his host.

  The Queen nodded down at his plate. “You’ll be surprised just how good those flying rats taste.”

  Several bowls lined the table in front of Flynn. Roasted potatoes and salads, he reached across and took a generous helping of each. His stomach continued to rumble as he filled his plate.

  Once he’d loaded up on food, Flynn looked to see no one else had started yet. He leaned back in his chair to wait, but winced at the electric pain of his brand against the back of his wooden seat. A glance at Mistress and he found her staring straight back at him. She’d pay for what she did to him.

  When Flynn looked back at the Queen, he saw her assessing him with her cold blue eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said, even though she didn’t look it. She clicked her fingers and looked for someone to answer her call.

  A boy of about twelve years old ran over and dipped his head to his leader. The Queen pointed at Flynn. “Get him some cream for his brand, would you?”

  The boy nodded again and ran off. Flynn shared another look with Mistress.

  Still no one ate, so Flynn held back too, his hunger gnawing away at both his stomach and patience.

  At that moment, the Queen tapped her knife against her metal cup and stood up. The hall fell silent, every sweating face turning their way.

  It had been intimidating to walk into the place, but now Flynn sat at the head of the room, it felt even worse. Every face stared his way. Easily as large as Home’s canteen, the vast space didn’t look like it could hold any more people.

  Easier to admire the structure instead of looking at the crowd, Flynn looked up at the bare wooden ceiling. Beams as wide as tree trunks ran through it. As well as the smell of cooked meats, Flynn also caught the whiff of the exposed wood.

  “Now,” the Queen said, pulling Flynn’s attention back down to the room, “before we eat, I want to officially welcome Flynn Golding to this community. The games have proven he’s earned a spot here. He’s been through the toughest challenges and come out the other side. After today, we don’t mention the games to him. He’s not a former prisoner anymore, he’s one of us.”

  A pain twisted through Flynn’s chest to think of how Rose let him win. To think of her in that horrible dungeon again.

  “Resources are in short supply in this self-sufficient world, but when we find someone who meets our challenges, what do we do?”

  The call came back from the room as a loud boom and Flynn flinched when the sound smashed into him. “WE MAKE SPACE!”

  A broad smile and the Queen nodded. “We do, we make space. So you have a new brother now. Treat him as you would expect to be treated and this society will continue to be great.” She lowered her voice. “And it will continue to work out for you.”

  The threat sent a shimmer around the room. They knew who ran this place and they all danced to the beat of her drum. Despite her smile, Flynn now saw she clearly ruled the community with zero tolerance. The facade he’d seen when first entering the barn had already been shattered.

  Nods and grunts of approval swept around the barn. Just like that, Flynn had become one of them. As the Queen sat down again, Flynn focused on his food. Nothing else mattered at that moment.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Flynn kept his head down for most of the meal. The Queen had been right about the pigeon; it tasted amazing.

  Mistress continued to sit three people away from Flynn on his right, but he didn’t look at her anymore. He didn’t want to be put off his meal and he had nothing to say to the bitch. Although he felt her look across at him several times in his peripheral vision, he ignored her attention.

  Towards the end of the meal, the boy the Queen had called over tapped Flynn on the shoulder and handed him some cream.

  Flynn looked at the old tube.

  “Nappy rash cream,” the Queen said.

  Flynn looked at her.

  “It works wonders with wounds.”

  He had no reason to doubt it. After all, what harm could it do. A shrug and Flynn put the tube in his pocket for later.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Most people had finished the meal when the Queen banged her metal goblet against the table.

  The place fell silent.

  “Time for the entertainment,” she announced. The stern look on her face sank dread through Flynn as the mood in the place twisted another notch darker.

  The people were clearly used to the routine because they didn’t need any further instructions. As one, they all stood up and moved the tables to the sides of the barn.

  Flynn and those at the top table remained seated.

  By the time the people had cleared a large space in the middle, two guards walked in with what appeared to be a prisoner each. One man and one woman, fortunately not Rose. Everyone watched the entrance.

  The Queen stood up, her tone as sombre as her glare. “You all know Jason.”

  No one spoke as the male prisoner dropped his head to stare at the ground.

  “I allowed him the presence of my company on many occasions. I trusted him and gave him one of the highest positions in this community.”

  At that moment, Flynn felt a lot of the people in the room look at him.

  Jason looked to be about Flynn’s age. Twenty-five, maybe thirty. A good ten years younger than the Queen at least.

  “But he violated my trust,” the Queen said, her hand shaking as she pulled her long black hair behind her right ear. “He fell in love.”

  The female prisoner, a young and beautiful woman barely in her twenties, shook and cried, flinching away from the Queen’s accusation.

  “Now they must both pay.”

  Flynn’s full stomach clamped around his undigested meal as he watched Jason and his love get dragged into the middle of the cleared space. Both of them stared down, awaiting what would undoubtedly be a brutal punishment.

  Although Flynn didn’t look at Mistress, he noticed her nod in his peripheral vision in response to the Queen signalling at her. She got to her feet, walked around the table, and up to the prisoners in the middle of the barn.

  Mistress’ leather apron flapped with every step she took forward. She drew a knife from her belt while she walked. A scimitar, it caught the dull light in the room and sparkled. If a weapon could grin, the shiny curved blade carried mirth up to Jason and his love.

  Near silence fell on the room as Mistress approached Jason first. She raised the sharp tip of her blade to his eye. She then rested the short sword against his throat. Flynn saw Jason gulp at the applied pressure.

  But Mistress stopped there. Instead of cutting him, she said, “Strip.”

  Jason froze, but when Mistress said, “Don’t make me ask again,” he slowly peeled his clothes off.

  Mistress looked at the woman next to Jason. “And you, princess.”

  The woman shook worse than ever, but she took her clothes off all the same, sobbing as she did it.

  Despite the tense atmosphere balling nausea in Flynn’s guts, he couldn’t look away from the beautiful young woman as she got naked. No wonder Jason had been tempted by her.

  When the two prisoners were done, the Queen got to her feet. “Now, I wouldn’t want anyone to say I’m not fair. I don’t mind people falling in love, that happens. But, Jason, sweetie, you betrayed me. She looked down at his flaccid cock and raised an eyebrow. “Just couldn’t keep it in your trousers, could you?”

  Some of the crowd laughed, but nowhere near as much as the female guards beside the Queen and Flynn.

  At that moment, another guard walked in with a chicken. The stupid creature twisted and tried to flap its wings, but the guard had a tight grip on it.

  “The first one to catch the chicken,” the Queen said, “gets to avoid becoming a number in the prison and taking us one step clos
er to twenty.”

  Once the guard had walked into the space in the middle of the barn, the crowd closed in, forming a tight circle around him and the two naked prisoners. Mistress returned to the top table.

  “Three,” the Queen called out and Flynn gulped. It suddenly felt much hotter in the barn.

  “Two.”

  The prisoners looked at one another, the girl crying harder than ever.

  “One.”

  The guard threw the chicken into the air and the crowd erupted into cheers.

  Both Jason and his love ran around, hunched over as they tried to catch the fast bird. The crowd laughed at the absurdity of their nakedness, and when they crashed into one another—their heads connecting with a deep tonk—a deafening cheer damn near shook the walls of the place.

  Because the guards and the Queen stood up to watch the prisoners, Flynn did the same. It wouldn’t end well to openly challenge the woman on his left, so he played along. For now at least.

  A few seconds later another loud roar crashed through the place. Flynn flinched from the volume of it while he watched Jason lift the chicken, his cock flapping around as he rose the dumb bird above his head.

  “No,” the girl said, her face buckling with her tears. “No, I can’t go through the games. No, please.”

  A stony expression sat on the Queen’s face as she stared at the girl. She spoke in a monotone. “Take her away.”

  If people made a noise around him at that moment, Flynn didn’t notice. He could only hear the girl’s screams as the guards dragged her out of there.

  Chapter Fifty

  They’d taken the girl from the barn, but Jason remained in the middle, the chicken still twisting and flapping against his tight grip.

  Where Flynn would have expected a speech from the Queen, she said nothing. She didn’t need to. It would seem Mistress knew her thoughts at that moment.

  Mistress held her scimitar out in front of her as she moved back around the long table and walked down to Jason.

  Sweat ran down Jason’s pale face. He looked at Mistress and then her grinning weapon.

  The community seemed to enjoy ceremony, certainly from what Flynn had seen so far. So it caught him completely off guard when Mistress grabbed Jason’s manhood so hard he screamed, and cut it clean off with one swipe of her sword. No words, no preamble, just swift justice.

  Jason yelled out, and what seemed like all the men in the room dragged a breath in through clenched teeth.

  Mistress held the floppy appendage up at the Queen before she tossed it over her shoulder with a shrug and drove the tip of her blade through Jason’s right eye.

  It all happened so quickly Flynn’s head spun.

  Silence swept through the barn as Jason fell dead to the ground.

  The Queen still said nothing, a slight grin on her otherwise stony face. She then turned to Flynn and patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you go and get some rest, sweetheart?”

  As he turned to leave the barn, the Queen added, “Jason was an energetic lad, you’ll need to get your strength up if you’re to match his stamina.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  The second Flynn woke up, he looked at his bedroom door. He somehow knew the Queen was watching him through the small round window, but it didn’t stop him jumping from the shock of it.

  A glazed look sat in the Queen’s eyes. It sent a chill through him and he quickly covered himself with his duvet, despite the heat in the room.

  Daylight shone in from outside. He’d either been asleep for a few hours, or he’d gone through an entire night. Because everything ached, he couldn’t be sure either way.

  The Queen stared in expectation at Flynn, who sat up in bed, reached down for his T-shirt, and pulled it on. The sting of his brand had already eased a little because of the cream she’d given him.

  Taking his actions as an invitation, the Queen entered the room. Dressed in her usual tight-fitting black jeans and knee-high boots, she had her hair scraped back in an extreme ponytail. A cocked eyebrow and a half smile and she said, “Quite tired, then, I see? I’m not surprised, considering what you went through with the games. We’ve had plenty of times where no one’s made it to the end because of how hard they are.”

  Although he looked at the Queen, Flynn thought about Rose. He quickly dropped his gaze to his lap so she didn’t see the betrayal in his eyes. Especially since he’d seen what she’d done to Jason. “How long have I been asleep for?”

  “Well, you left the barn yesterday lunchtime. I was going to wake you for dinner, but I thought better of it.” A look down in the direction of his crotch and the slightest smile lifted one side of her mouth. “Better for you to get your strength up. You’ll be needing it.”

  With an already dry mouth from sleeping in a hot room without a drink, Flynn fought the urge to gulp as he stared at her, his pulse speeding up. “So, uh, why have you woken me now?”

  The Queen let the silence hang and stared straight at him. Lust glazed her stare and she looked to be considering what she’d do with him next. As if snapping out of it, she finally said, “We’re going out.”

  Flynn relaxed a little, but tried to hide his relief. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see. As much as I don’t want to say this, put some clothes on. I’ll wait for you out in the hallway.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Fortunately they didn’t expect Flynn to ride one of the horses. He’d never learned how. Instead, he sat on the back of the Queen’s horse, yet again paying homage to her dominance over him.

  About twenty horses in total, each one had two people on it. About thirty of them were the men under Mistress’ command. The Queen had told him they were referred to as hunters. The other ten or so were the Queen’s female guards. They rode the closest to them and all wore the same royal blue.

  Several hours had passed since they’d left the royal complex. Flynn had grown beyond uncomfortable, the base of his back aching and his hips sore. Although it would ease some of his pain, he didn’t want to wrap his arms around the Queen. He didn’t need to be at any more of a submissive disadvantage with her—especially with the ravenous looks she gave him.

  The Queen hadn’t said anything to Flynn for the entire journey. Every time he’d thought about asking her where they were headed, she snapped at someone in the group for doing something wrong. It seemed wise to keep his mouth shut.

  Besides, he hoped they were going to the town where they had Rose imprisoned, and any questioning would surely reek of his desire to save her. If he couldn’t hide it from the Queen, then he shouldn’t say it at all. A glance across at Mistress a few horses away and he saw the scimitar strapped to her hip. It had been cleaned of Jason’s blood as if ready to remove another appendage.

  And if they weren’t heading to the town with Rose, he’d find out where they were going when they got there. Anything had to be better than her trying to fuck him. An attractive woman, but too old for him and far too domineering.

  Just before the brow of the next hill, the Queen pulled her horse to a stop. She slipped to the ground and beckoned for Flynn to come down and join her.

  Together they walked to the top of the hill and Flynn suddenly saw why. A decent-sized community stretched out in front of them. Smaller than both the royal complex and Home, it still looked to be the residence for about fifty people, maybe even a few more.

  As far as fortification went, it had nothing on the royal complex or Home. A fence had been erected around it much like the ones used to contain livestock before everything went to hell. No more than a metre high, even a human would be able to hurdle it. The nomads tended to be bullies and would only pick battles they thought they could win. Flynn assumed this place had only managed to remain safe because of the number of people living there.

  “So what are we doing here?” Flynn said as he watched some of the people in the community working the land.

  “We’re going to raid the place.”

  As much as he e
xpected her to say that, Flynn’s stomach still sank. The hunters around him drew their weapons. Some of them had longbows. Some had swords and axes for hand-to-hand combat. After he’d looked at them, he looked back at the Queen.

  “We do well with our self-sufficient approach to things, but sometimes it’s not enough. I have itches I need to scratch, and taking what I want, when I want, is one of those itches.” She let the silence hang and stared at Flynn’s crotch.

  The Queen then stepped over the brow of the hill, revealing herself should anyone look her way. She beckoned Flynn forward with her. “Come on then, I need you with me.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The closer they got to the community, the more pathetic the fence around it looked. So low down, the long grass stood higher than it at most points. How the fuck had they lasted as long as they had without being raided? They’d been naive to think they could survive forever.

  The grass dragged on Flynn’s progress and the fresh smell of his surroundings wafted up at him. It offered a strange counterbalance to the rock in his stomach and the dread that seeped poison into his psyche.

  “Let me put my arm around you,” the Queen said to him.

  As much as Flynn wanted to question it, he didn’t.

  The Queen feigned an injury and exaggerated a limp as she leaned into Flynn. They stumbled down the hill together, all the aches from his run through the games returning as he bore her weight.

  Two flimsy corrugated tin gates stood at the front of the community. Like the fences next to them, they didn’t look up to much and were only a few metres high.

  Still about twenty metres from the place, a crack opened between the two gates. A man and a woman stepped out. The man had a pitchfork, the woman a shovel.

  “They look like fucking cavemen,” the Queen muttered.