“I’m not letting you out,” Vicky said as she stood in front of Home’s exit. Serj and Flynn flanked her, the three of them united against Scoop’s fury.
“My fucking daughter’s out there!”
“She’s not your daughter anymore,” Vicky said. “What do you hope to achieve by going out there?”
Scoop continued to pace as she had done for the past fifteen minutes, staring out of the window as she moved back and forth. Many of the diseased had moved away from the front door, but Meisha remained close, almost as if she knew she had once belonged inside.
After a glance at the other two, Vicky moved over to Scoop and they both stopped to stare out of the window. “Look at her.”
“You think I’m not?”
“That’s not Meisha.”
“What would you do if that was Flynn out there?”
When Vicky didn’t answer, Scoop turned to her, clenched her fists, pulled her shoulders back, and jutted her chin out. Her voice came out as a low growl that turned the air between them electric. “Let me out.”
“If we let you out”—Vicky pointed at the window—“we’re letting them in.”
“I’ll get out quickly,” Scoop said. “They’ve backed away from the door now. Open it a crack and I’ll run out and get them to chase me. Then you can close the door and lock it behind me.”
“It won’t work.”
“Make it work! Because if you don’t let me out now, I’ll get out sooner or later, and I’ll make sure I leave that fucking door open behind me.”
Two gentle snaps called through the foyer as Serj undid the bolts at the top and bottom of the door. For a moment he and Vicky stared at each other before he turned to Scoop. “You need to be ready to run.”
“What are you doing?” Vicky said.
“Letting Scoop do what she wants to do. She’s an adult, Vick.”
“But she’s too distraught to think straight. She can’t do this. It’s suicide.”
“She’s an adult.”
“What about everyone in Home? What if we let them in?”
“They’re far enough away. Besides, they’ll chase her, I’m sure.”
A final glance at Scoop and Scoop nodded. “Just let me do this,” she said. “I need to get to my little girl.”
“She’s not your little girl anymore.”
“She is.”
The clenched jaw, the creased brow, and the dark stare told Vicky everything she needed to know. Scoop would do this regardless of what she said. Nothing would change her mind. Nothing.
Vicky shook her head, walked over to Scoop and pulled her into a tight hug. “Be ready to get out as quickly as you can.”
Scoop squeezed Vicky back and Vicky felt her nodding into her neck.
After she’d handed the hammers to Flynn, Vicky pulled her crossbow from her back and pressed the stock into her shoulder. She looked down her weapon at the front door and said, “You ready?”
Scoop and Serj both nodded.
Vicky tried to push her grief to one side with a heavy sigh and said, “Take care of yourself, Scoop.” Tears swelled inside of her. To say goodbye would set them loose and she still needed to see. Maybe they should have told her sooner, but maybe Scoop would have sacrificed herself sooner had she known. Too many good people had gone from this world already.
Vicky could do nothing to stop her flow of tears as Serj gripped the front door’s handle. “Three,” he said.
The tension wound tight in the foyer and Vicky pulled a dry gulp into her arid throat.
“Two …”
Vicky’s finger shook on the trigger of her crossbow.
“One.”
Serj pulled the door open about thirty centimetres wide. The closest diseased stood about two metres away. Vicky unloaded a bolt into its face. It scored a direct hit and drove the rancid fucker back a step.
As the beast screamed, Scoop ran out, body-checked it, and took the attention of the rest with her.
Serj slammed the door behind her and bolted the locks again. He exhaled hard enough to blow his cheeks out and shared a look with Vicky.
Vicky moved to the window, her face damp with tears, to watch her friend push through the dense pack of bodies as the ravenous mob climbed over one another to get at her.
Scoop swung for them, shoved them, and kicked out. Maybe she’d already been bitten by the time she got to her daughter, but when she arrived at Meisha, she still had all the traits of the living. At that moment, she gave up defending herself and wrapped her arms around the girl.
If Vicky could judge anything by the look on Meisha’s face, it would be that she didn’t recognise her mother. Maybe her inclination to remain close to Home had been a coincidence. Like all of the other diseased, she seemed lost in the torment of the plague. She pulled into her mother’s hug, spread her mouth wide, and bit into her neck.
Scoop didn’t show the pain she undoubtably felt. Instead, she clung to her daughter as blood spread from the bite mark out over her clothes, turning her khaki guard shirt dark.
When Meisha took a second bite into Scoop’s neck, Vicky turned away and looked at both Serj and Flynn. They too cried freely, their eyes bloodshot, their cheeks glistening with their tears. They should have told Scoop sooner.
Chapter Forty-Two
The four remaining guards stood together in Home’s foyer. Serj, Flynn, Piotr, and Vicky. Vicky looked at the other three and then the space where Scoop should have been. It somehow filled the rest of the area. A quiet, yet vigilant observer, she’d offered a calm reassurance that she had anyone’s back should they need it.
Serj walked along the line of guards and gave each of them a silver key. “The new lock has been fitted.” When he got to the nail on the wall, he hung up two keys where there had previously only been one.
A heavy sigh to Vicky’s right and she looked at Flynn. He bit his bottom lip and his eyes glazed. Vicky reached across to hug him and he stepped a pace away from her, throwing her a dark scowl. The rejection sank through her heart, but she lifted her chin and stepped back. Even after what they’d just been through, she still couldn’t be the one to offer him comfort.
“We need to go and talk to them, then,” Serj said as he nodded in the direction of the canteen. “They need answers.”
“And you have some, do you?” Piotr’s deep voice echoed in the foyer.
Serj shrugged. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll think of something.”
***
The back wall felt cold to the touch as Vicky leaned against it with Piotr next to her and Flynn next to him. Were it a Tuesday morning, then she’d be addressing the people of Home. They had a weekend to get through before it got to Tuesday again. Maybe she’d already led her final training session.
As what seemed to be the last of the people of Home filled the canteen, Serj stood still and stared at the wall of monitors. No matter which angle they flicked to, scores of diseased milled about outside the complex. The people of Home looked at the monitors too.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you we have a problem outside,” Serj said. “We don’t know where the diseased came from, but my guess would be that Moira had something to do with it.”
Vicky’s cheeks heated up at the lie and she felt Flynn stare across at her. No doubt she glowed red for everyone to see, but she couldn’t hide it. A look across at Piotr and then Flynn and she met the same dark judgment from both of them, although Piotr hid it slightly better.
The silence threatened to crawl up from the ground and throttle Vicky, but Serj broke it before she had to tap out.
“If you don’t know by now, Scoop didn’t make it.”
Tears itched Vicky’s eyes and she watched the monitors to see if her friend appeared on them. The people of Home didn’t need to see that. None of them did.
“Meisha went out on her own the other day,” Serj said, “and when the diseased attacked, Meisha got caught up in it. Scoop saw her infected daughter and ran to her. She knew Meisha was
gone, and the monster that remained wasn’t her, but she couldn’t control her impulses. She died within three steps of Home’s front door.”
Vicky felt sick with grief as she looked from the monitors to Serj to the judgment of Piotr and Flynn. The intensity of Flynn’s glare and how he leaned toward her made it look like he wanted to say something, but he’d managed to keep it to himself. So far anyway. One word from him and everything would come crashing down. The boy had a hot head. Hopefully he could keep himself in check.
All the while Serj spoke to the crowd, he paced up and down the crash mats. Even with the gravity of their situation, Vicky wanted to tell him to take his shoes off, but she refrained. They probably wouldn’t need to train again anyway.
One of the men from Home stepped forward. Brian maybe? Vicky couldn’t remember his name. There were so many people at Home she’d barely spoken to. A tall man, at least six feet and three inches, he had long thick hair and a bushy beard. “How are we supposed to fight them and Moira?”
The silence hung in the vast space and Serj continued to pace up and down. He looked like he had an answer for them, and then he said, “I dunno. Honestly, I don’t have a clue.”
Some of the people looked at one another, and when Vicky scanned the crowd, she saw Sally; the woman she’d rescued from Hugh’s eviction. The same worried frown dominated her features as it did everyone else’s.
“However—” Serj stopped and raised a finger in the air “—what I do know is that if we don’t find a way to do it, we’ll die and Moira will take this place for her own.”
The statement threw a sombre blanket over the room and everyone sank beneath its weight. They weren’t ready to go to war. They would never be ready to go to war. Of all the people Vicky had trained, only a handful of them had learned how to fight. The rest would have to pick it up pretty damn quick. If they even had it in them. Maybe they’d be presenting themselves for the slaughter.
The man Vicky thought of as Brian, regardless of his name, spoke up again. “But if we leave them alone, then they may leave us alone.” He looked across at the monitors and the diseased displayed on them. “We’ve existed side by side with Moira’s community for years now.” When he stared at Vicky, she felt a chill snap through her. “We’ve only had a problem with them since she’s been here.”
The static crowd came to life. Nods and noises of agreement filled the air.
Sharon Blythe stepped forward. “I agree,” she said. “My children are dead because of her.”
Dan Blythe moved next to his wife and stared hatred at Vicky. “I think she’s a fucking liability.”
The quiet murmur of concurrence grew in volume and a few people said Yeah or I agree or We were fine without her.
When Brian pointed at Vicky again, his thick hair and beard wobbled with his fury. “She’s brought this down on us. If it wasn’t for her, we’d be doing fine now.”
The heat in Vicky’s cheeks rushed straight to her gut and she pushed off from the wall. She slammed a clenched right fist against her open left palm. “No, you wouldn’t! And you know why? Because sooner or later, Moira will take this community for her own. You had Hugh kicking innocent people out and Moira standing by waiting for the right time to take over. I didn’t bring that here, that existed long before me. If Moira had wanted to simply attack Home, the solar panels would have been destroyed by now. But she wants more than that and always has. Like Serj said, she wants Home for her own. Me being here hasn’t changed that. What’s your name?” she said to Brian.
“Brian,” he responded. She should have given herself more credit for remembering it.
“Well, you know what, Brian? If she takes this place over, you’ll wish you’d fought now. I’ve seen what she does to prisoners, so believe me when I say you don’t want to be one of them. I can leave now if you all want me to, but whether I came here or not, this community was fucked.”
A few people gasped at Vicky’s statement. “The only difference between then and now is then you were fucking ignorant.” She walked closer to Brian so only a metre of blue crash mat separated them. “Now you know what’s coming for you.”
Before Brian could react, Flynn stepped forward. “I agree, and I’m with you, Vicky.”
Vicky looked at Flynn, who returned her glare with the same anger he’d looked at her with for weeks now. He certainly didn’t forgive her, but he wouldn’t sell her out either.
Brian sneered at Flynn and it took all of Vicky’s patience to refrain from knocking the sneer from his face. He shook his head and said, “Of course you agree—”
“Me too,” Piotr said, cutting the hairy man off mid-sentence.
Brian drew a deep breath and opened his mouth to reply, but Serj cut him short this time. “And me.”
Until that point only the guards had stepped forward. When Stuart stepped from the group of people in Home, Brian’s shoulders slumped. “And me,” he said.
Sally stepped forward. “And me.”
The wind had been well and truly robbed from Brian’s sails. Even if he had the majority on his side at that moment, only Sharon and Dan seemed willing to voice it. The tension in the room wound a notch tighter, but before anyone else could speak, a loud scream cut through Home. It rushed down the corridors and into the canteen. It sounded like a man in agony.
Chapter Forty-Three
The crowd parted for Vicky as she rushed through them in the direction of the sound. The man screamed again, his shrill call bouncing off the walls of the complex.
Even as she passed the screens, Vicky got a sense of the sheer weight of diseased outside without directly looking at them.
As Vicky ran, she heard footsteps follow her. A glance over her shoulder and she saw Piotr, Serj, and even Flynn, who moved more freely than he’d done since his fall.
Vicky swerved through several of the dining tables before she jumped up on a bench of one and onto the Formica top. She watched for plates and glasses, but managed to hop from table to table without slipping. Although she didn’t turn around, the sound of the guards’ thumping steps followed behind her.
The slap of her feet rang out when she jumped from the last table and landed on the hard floor. She darted for the corridor where the sound came from.
Vicky stopped dead the second she looked down the hallway.
A moment later, Piotr crashed into the back of her and shoved Vicky forward a step closer to them. The other two guards caught up.
“What the—?” Flynn said through his heavy breaths.
The white walls of the corridor had been painted red and glistened with the spilled blood of what must have been the man. Where he’d screamed before, he now stood silent, pinned to the wall by a woman feasting on his throat. She seemed oblivious to her spectators.
When Vicky saw a little boy huddled away from the pair, she pulled her knife from the back of her trousers and stepped forward. Fuck knew if he’d been bitten or not. He didn’t move, whatever that meant.
Even though Vicky tried to be quiet, the pads of her feet touched the blue linoleum floor as she walked. If she could get the child and pull him away, it didn’t matter what noise she made afterwards. She’d have to fight the diseased anyway, but better she saved the child if she could.
The guards behind Vicky must have remained still because she could only hear the sound of the woman as she feasted on the man. A gristly snapping and squelching sound as if she was chewing through wet bone.
It didn’t matter how close Vicky got to the boy, she couldn’t work him out. Soaked in the blood coating the walls, he continued to huddle in a ball and not look up.
Vicky got to within a few metres of the boy when the sound of footsteps rushed across the end of the corridor. She didn’t look back. The people from the canteen must have run over to watch. No doubt none of them would help.
When one of the people gasped, the woman and the boy both looked up. They both stared at Vicky with the same bleeding eyes of the diseased. “Fuck,” she said and
lunged for the boy as he lunged for her.
It might have only been a six-inch blade, but when Vicky drove it into the boy’s right eye, it sank deep enough to turn him limp.
The slap of the woman’s footsteps came at Vicky as she shoved the boy aside.
The woman waved her arms in Vicky’s direction, blood dripping from her chin and the thick reek of rot coming forward with her.
In the tight space Vicky only had one chance.
The woman yelled and dived at Vicky.
Vicky dropped to the ground, kicked the vile creature in the stomach as she passed over her, and listened to her land on the other side of her with an oomph.
Before the creature could recover, Vicky sprang to her feet, rushed her, and finished her off in the same way she’d just dispatched the child.
As much as she wanted to stop there, Vicky headed over to the man, breathing hard as she moved. He sat slumped against the wall, motionless as if he’d passed out.
When Vicky got to him, he opened his bloody eyes.
The crack of his skull popped through the space when Vicky plunged her knife into the top of his head. His mouth fell loose and his eyes dribbled fresh blood.
The corpse fell from his sitting position when Vicky stepped away from him, and slapped down against the linoleum as a discarded carcass.
The chatter at the other end of the corridor sounded like quite a few people had gathered to watch. Instead of turning to face them, Vicky walked away from the carnage and in the direction of her room.
Serj’s voice filled the hallway. “You still think Vicky’s the problem? I’d say she’s pretty damn useful to us when you look at what she just did. What no one else was prepared to do. Also, how the hell did someone get in here with the disease? Anyone coming back to Home now will be searched for bite marks before they enter the place. If you get bitten, it’s game over. Don’t be so fucking selfish as to come back. You’re not the exception; you will fucking turn.”
The Alpha Plague 6: A Fast-Paced Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Page 14