The Alpha Plague 6: A Fast-Paced Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

by Michael Robertson

  The rain continued, unrelenting, and Vicky looked at Flynn again to see his frown against the elements. “At least we can’t get any wetter,” she said.

  Flynn forced a tight-lipped and humourless smile.

  Each step up the hill took a little more of Vicky’s energy. It seemed like the next one would be the one where she fell and the guards would have to carry her. Yet she managed to keep going, her entire body weight slamming down on the ground with each heavy footfall.

  Flynn’s tone changed when he spoke again, his jaw clenched tight. “I think it’s fucking mental to keep so many diseased penned in.”

  Vicky squinted against the hard rain and looked at the red-faced boy. She saw the insecurity behind his anger, the shifting of his eyes from side to side, the stoop of humiliation. “It wasn’t the diseased in the pen that attacked us.”

  “No, but they attracted that one over. If the pen didn’t exist, that diseased wouldn’t have been there, and even if it was, we would have been able to see it from a mile away.” Flynn left his hair in his eyes as he glared rage at Vicky.

  Vicky didn’t reply to him as they stepped from the mud onto the grassy incline. The ground remained hard from a warm summer, and walking suddenly became a hell of a lot easier. Although, if the rain continued to fall like it currently did, it wouldn’t take much to turn everywhere into a boggy mess. They could really do with solid ground underfoot when they tried to lead the diseased to Moira’s community. A look up at the sky and she saw breaks of blue in the black cloud. Hopefully, it would pass soon.

  “But you can see how we could take down Moira’s army with them, right?” Vicky said. “If we can avoid a fight that will see many of our people killed, that has to be a good thing. I’d rather not die. How about you?”

  A sharp shrug and Flynn looked away as if searching for diseased on the horizon. “I just think it’s bloody dangerous. It could go wrong in so many ways.”

  Vicky closed the distance between them so the others wouldn’t hear her. “It’s not your fault you can’t swim. There’s no shame in it.”

  Flynn spun around to face her, his brown eyes narrowed, his lips pulled back to reveal his yellowing teeth. “No, but it is your fault. Why didn’t you teach me? I think you avoided doing it because you like me feeling vulnerable. It makes you feel useful.”

  The words drove a blow to Vicky’s gut and she balked, but before she could reply, Flynn sped up and marched away from her. He headed straight for Piotr. The large Russian looked down the hill at her for a moment, a twist of pity on his large features. He then focused on the boy and dipped a nod at him.

  Vicky sighed. If she couldn’t be the one to help him, at least Flynn had someone in his corner.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vicky shivered and hugged herself for warmth, anxiety tying knots in her stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t have come out alone. The temperature had dropped unusually low for the middle of the night, especially for June. Were it not for the moon running a silver highlight over her wild surroundings, it would have been much harder to navigate the landscape.

  A strong wind tore across the open grasslands, carrying the rotten smell of the diseased with it. The scent whispered to Vicky of what could be waiting in the darkness for her. But she couldn’t focus on what she couldn’t see. Of course there were diseased around, but she hadn’t even heard them yet, so they obviously weren’t that close.

  Vicky stood far enough back from the chain-link fence to remain concealed in the shadows. At least she expected she did. How could she truly tell? Without the ability to look out of the cage with the prisoners in it, she could only speculate on what they saw.

  No one from Home knew Vicky had come here. Since she’d moved Flynn to a different room and they put a key lock on the front door, she could come and go unnoticed, especially in the middle of the night. If she’d have told anyone of her plans, they would have tried to come with her or stop her. No way would she let Flynn come out, and Serj needed to stay at Home as their leader. Besides, she’d be more inconspicuous alone.

  The chill on the breeze worked its way into Vicky’s bones and her entire body clamped as tight as her stomach. Although maybe the shake running through her had more to do with returning to this awful place. To come back to Moira’s community so willingly bordered on madness, but she had to do it. They had to know what they were up against when everything kicked off, and the prisoners needed to know they’d be rescued. Besides, everything would be fine as long as none of Moira’s lot saw her.

  Vicky looked at the small cage they’d held her in when Hugh shoved her down the hill, and her heart rate increased. Whatever happened, she didn’t plan on going back into that fucking cell.

  The larger cage had about twenty prisoners in it at present. From what Vicky had seen during her short stay, that number fluctuated daily depending on Moira’s mood.

  Vicky needed to step forward and reveal herself, but she needed to pick her move carefully. A group of desperate people, if the wrong one saw her first, they’d call out and it would be game over for all of them.

  When Vicky saw the man from the farm, she moved alongside the cage until she stood as close to him as she could without stepping forward. If any of them could keep their voice down, she guessed it would be him. Hopefully he could encourage the others to do the same.

  Large tufts protruded from the lumpy ground surrounding Moira’s compound. Either weeds, thistles, or hard, callous-like explosions of grass. Not conducive to an easy getaway, it looked almost as if Moira’s influence poisoned the very earth around her.

  After a deep breath to still her furious pulse, Vicky hissed at the man she recognised.

  He didn’t react.

  Vicky hissed again.

  This time he slowly rotated his head, his eyes half closed. The movement seemed to take a great effort, and once he’d turned his face out toward the darkness, he blinked repeatedly as if trying to ascertain the source of the sound.

  Vicky took another step forward.

  When the man’s eyes widened, Vicky pressed her finger to her lips. Fortunately, he obliged her.

  Two quick steps and Vicky closed the distance between them. She did her best to hide her reaction to the foul smell of human waste coming from the cage. They probably felt ashamed enough already; she didn’t need to make it worse. The rucksack on her back had weighed heavy with food and water, and now she’d got to the man unnoticed, she felt relief to roll the heavy pack from her shoulders and lower it to the ground. She bit her bottom lip as she opened the bag, willing the zip to remain quiet while the man from the farm urged silence from the others.

  There had been bigger bottles at Home and it might have been more practical to bring them, but Vicky knew how small the holes in the fence were.

  Each bottle—just about small enough to fit through the gaps—popped and cracked as Vicky forced them in.

  Seventeen bottles in total, Vicky’s heart galloped after she’d got them all through. Adrenaline raced through her veins, accelerating her pulse and making her hands shake as she passed the other supplies through to the man. Carrots, cucumbers, cooked potatoes, and a small amount of cured rabbit before she’d exhausted her stash. “Sorry it’s not more,” she said, “but I’ll be back again, I promise.”

  Wide and tired eyes stared at Vicky from sunken faces. Stray dogs on death row, every one of the prisoners looked to her as their saviour. Every one of them begged to be taken home.

  “Listen,” Vicky said, “we have a plan and we’ll get you all out of here. A day or two longer and we’re going to storm this place, so be ready, yeah?”

  None of the prisoners spoke. Hope seemed to lighten their features, but mistrust clearly fought against their optimism. If life with Moira had taught them anything, it would have been that hope didn’t exist in their world. Besides, a few days could be too long for many of them. As if answering Vicky’s thoughts, the low murmur of the diseased in the pit in the courtyard called out to her. They were hu
ngry for more meat.

  As Vicky watched the people eat, apparently oblivious to the blood-curdling sound of the diseased in the pit, she turned to the man from the farm. “I never got your name.”

  “Aaron.”

  “Just Aaron?”

  “What does a surname matter now? My dad was an arsehole; he can keep it.”

  Vicky nodded. “Well, Aaron, I’m Vicky. I promise I’ll be back for you. You’ve survived this long, I’m confident you’ll do okay.”

  “I’m glad you are.”

  Neither spoke as the wind seemed to pick up. Vicky looked over her shoulder into the darkness. If a horde attacked now, she could do nothing to stop them. By the time she saw them, it would be too late. She also looked toward the section where the guards hung out. Anxiety shimmered through her.

  Aaron cut through Vicky’s thoughts. “Now let me ask you something.”

  “Go on.”

  “Why should I wait for you to come back?” He stroked his stubbled chin, his cheeks so withdrawn his thin skin did nothing to conceal his skull beneath. “I reckon Moira would give a lot to someone who handed you back to her.” His green eyes lit up. “Like, I dunno, freedom maybe?”

  The people around Aaron stirred, but Vicky focused on the man from Home. Any noise and he could alert both the guards and the diseased. Any noise and she might not see the morning.

  “I mean, you’re the one who got away. You and I both know that will never sit well with her and she would do a lot to right that wrong.”

  Vicky wanted to speak, but the silence of the evening seemed to reach into her lungs and steal her words. Quickened breaths and a dry throat and she stared at Aaron. As much as she wanted to reach for the knife on her hip, she didn’t. She’d come to rescue them, not kill them.

  Aaron’s green eyes narrowed and a wonky grin spread across his withdrawn face. “I’m guessing you don’t have a good reason, then?” He drew a deep breath as if to call out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Despite her hammering heart, Vicky fought to keep her voice level and just got her words out before Aaron could shout anything. “When have you seen Moira reward anyone? Especially a prisoner?”

  Silence met her question and some of the people around Aaron shifted as if the ground had grown uncomfortable to stand on.

  “Exactly. At least with me there are no conditions. When I come to rescue you, you won’t belong to me or anyone else.” Vicky looked at the others. “And I’ll free all of you. So if you want to call me out—if you want to jeopardise the only opportunity these people around you may have of escaping—then go for it. I’ll be dead and so will any chance of their freedom.” She stared at Aaron, and the gathered crowd seemed to hold their breath. From the looks on their faces, they clearly understood their fate rested in the palms of his long and bony hands. They also looked ready to lynch him if need be.

  Another check over both shoulders and Vicky couldn’t see any movement around her. Not that it meant her surroundings were clear, but she had to take it at face value and pray for good luck. She felt for her knife on her hip.

  “Right, I’m glad we’re on the same page, then,” Vicky finally said when Aaron offered no response. The determined set to his face had vanished. “I’m prepared to forget your threat and move on, but don’t try me again. I swear I will let you all rot in here. Now, give me those water bottles back. We can’t have Moira twigging that you’ve all had a drink. She’ll be sure to punish anyone who’s gone against her rule.”

  One by one the people in the cage passed the empty bottles to Vicky. They crunched even louder on the way back through. Each one went into her open backpack, the weight of it considerably lighter than it had been on the way over.

  Vicky shouldered her pack again and stared at Aaron. “Please trust me. I need to suss this place out so we have the best chance of toppling it. If I bust you out now, we won’t stand a chance. Half of you are so weak you can barely stand. Let me do this my way and we’ll come back with an army. I have the people who will fight for you if you let them.”

  “And in the meantime?” Aaron asked. The prisoners around him moved forward as if silently asking the same question.

  “You wait. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s all I have. I promise you”—Vicky looked at the others—“I promise you all, I don’t take your incarceration lightly. I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can.”

  Many of the group nodded, and when Vicky focused on Aaron again, she saw his animosity melt away with lethargic resignation.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vicky stepped back a few paces into the veil of night. Still able to see the prisoners, she could tell by the way they peered into the darkness—their hollow stares vague—that she’d disappeared from their view.

  The lighter load in Vicky’s backpack made it easier for her to move. She walked over the hard and tufty ground, the bitter chill in the air cutting to her bones. A clamped stomach and jaw did nothing to fight the frigid snap.

  Once Vicky passed the part of Moira’s camp where they kept the prisoners, she came upon the guards’ area. A particularly long brick building divided the two sections. Although she couldn’t see it from her current position, she knew there to be a walkway connecting the two areas on the opposite side of the complex.

  Three other buildings took up most of the space. They ran around the outside and had a courtyard in the centre of them. The corners of the complex had been finished off with fences where the buildings didn’t budge up against one another, except for one corner, which had a large square building in it. Different from the others, it looked to be a communal area rather than sleeping quarters.

  Light shone from the large square building. Not only light, but the sound of voices came from it too. Vicky hadn’t noticed them when talking to Aaron, but now she’d got closer, they became much easier to hear. Maybe they kept the noise down for fear of attracting the diseased. Even a crowd as seemingly in control and fortified as this lot lived in fear of the monsters in the wild.

  Because only a small amount of light spilled out of the communal hut, it made it hard for Vicky to see the structure in the middle of the courtyard, but she could see something stood there. In silhouette, it looked to be a large box. Rectangular in shape, it stood about eight feet tall and twice as wide—maybe another cage. When she squinted against the darkness, she saw something inside it move and gasped.

  Light rushed out of the communal building through the courtyard when someone opened the door. Clearly a fire inside, the orange glow of it seeped out into the night, animating any shadow it cast. Vicky jumped back and dropped down into a crouch behind a bush to her right.

  Hidden about as well as she could be at that moment, Vicky looked at the jail in the courtyard and her heart sank. A sudden gust of wind ripped across the open landscape and crashed into her. It rocked her where she crouched as she stared at the people in the cage.

  The door closed again and shut off the light, but she’d already seen them. A family of four huddled in one corner. A mum, dad, and two daughters. At least Vicky assumed they were a family. And if they weren’t before, this world had clearly turned them into one. Of the two children, one looked to be about ten years old and the other about fourteen. They all wore army camouflage.

  Vicky thought about when she’d watched the group in the town walk up the road towards McDonald’s. The group she’d hoped would become saviours for the family of four.

  When the door to the communal area swung open for a second time, Vicky saw another person in the cage with them. A scruffy man, he looked to be in his late fifties, but she couldn’t really tell from her current position and in the poor light. At opposite ends of the cage from one another, the two parties were clearly divided by hostility.

  As with Aaron and the prisoners next door, Vicky couldn’t do anything to help. Not at that moment anyway. She had to hurry the fuck up and come back with the diseased. The sooner she did it, the better.

  It would s
erve no other purpose to wait around, other than to maybe understand how many guards they were up against, but that could take hours. Instead, Vicky slowly stood up and stepped backwards into the darkness.

  As she crept away, Vicky looked between where she headed and Moira’s complex. The tufty ground threatened to trip her. When she’d got far enough back, she filled her lungs with a deep inhale and ran back towards Home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Vicky crossed the canteen with leaden legs. She’d only come back from Moira’s community a few hours previously, and she couldn’t sleep a wink when she had. She thought of the family in one cage and the prisoners in the other. Their lives depended on her. She couldn’t tell the guards about them because she’d have to admit to going to Moira’s community. If she did that, they’d either try to come with her next time or try to stop her; she had to be able to go again because her intel on the place could prove invaluable.

  The blue crash mats sank beneath Vicky’s steps as she crossed them to the seating on the other side of the space. The air smelled of boiled cabbage, not that they’d served boiled cabbage every day since she’d been there. The scent whisked her back to her school canteen every time she smelled it.

  Vicky looked at her feet to avoid making eye contact with anyone. The chatter of tens of voices swelled through the place and turned into a white noise in the high ceiling above her.

  A quick look up at the screens and she saw they gave their usual glimpse of the outside world. The occasional diseased ran past, but Vicky paid them little mind. They had enemies much more dangerous than the diseased, and she’d seen what they did to people.