The Alpha Plague (Book 6)

by Michael Robertson

  Sally moved off and the slow trudge of broken prisoners followed her. Although Vicky watched them, she also glanced at the monitors on the wall of the canteen. They showed the darkness of outside, but still not a single diseased. When a man walked near her, Vicky grabbed his arm as she said, “Excuse me, what happened to all the diseased?”

  Only when she took a proper look at the man did she recognise him. Brian, the one who seemed to have more of a hatred for Vicky than even Sharon or Dan. For a moment he scowled at her.

  “Look, Brian,” Vicky said. “It’s been a long fucking night, so spare me your bullshit and just answer my fucking question, yeah?”

  Clearly caught off guard by her comment, Brian’s face flushed red. “We killed them all when we were outside the community. Not that you were any help.”

  Although Vicky drew a breath to respond, Brian walked off before she could. She clenched her fists as she watched his broad back.

  The line of prisoners continued to file past and it took all Vicky had not to screw her nose up at their smell. Each one of them moved as if they had glass in their shoes. Each one of them looked on the edge of their balance.

  When the back of the line filed through, Aaron appeared in front of Vicky. A skeleton grimace pulled on his face and it took a few seconds for her to recognise it as a smile. “Thank you,” he said, “I didn’t think you’d be able to help us. I knew you wanted to, but I didn’t think you had it in you. Thank you for proving me wrong. Thank you for saving our lives. We won’t forget it.” He leaned forward and wrapped Vicky in a bony hug.

  The marked change from Brian’s aggression to Aaron’s gratitude sent Vicky’s head spinning and she squeezed his slight frame. “You’re welcome. Now, go and get yourself healthy again. We’re going to need your farming skills to keep this place running.”

  To see the glisten of tears in Aaron’s eyes made Vicky’s eyes itch too and her view of him blurred. After she’d cleared her throat, she said, “Go on, don’t make me look weak in front of this lot.”

  “It’s a strength that you care.” Aaron squeezed her hands. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking of it as anything else.”

  Vicky said nothing more and watched the man walk away.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Maybe all of the people had turned up or maybe just most of them. Like when they went out to fight against the diseased earlier that day, Vicky couldn’t give it too much thought. A mostly full canteen, she couldn’t leave them too long at this time of night because they’d understandably lose interest.

  Vicky made her way through the packed tables—the level of chatter rising with each passing minute—and headed for the blue crash mats on the other side of the hall.

  Before Vicky got there, Stuart stood up in front of her. His blue eyes sparkled and a wide grin spread across his face. “Vicky!” he said, reaching forward and holding both of her hands. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.”

  Not one for close contact, Vicky cringed as she endured the second hug in the past few minutes. She offered Stuart a tight-lipped smile as they pulled away from one another. Her interaction with Brian still left a bitter taste in her mouth. In some small way, Stuart’s kindness helped dilute that.

  When Vicky got to the front of the room, the chatter died down and the people looked at her. Flynn, Piotr, and Serj already waited and all three of them nodded at her when she stood beside them. Flynn gave her the most tight-lipped response of the three.

  Vicky drew a breath and opened her mouth to speak, but Sharon cut her off. On one of the closest tables to the front, she sat there with her husband, Dan. Brian had also joined them. “Before you start,” the mum of the dead children sneered, “I want to know what you’ve brought into this community.”

  The question disarmed Vicky and she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she said, “I beg your pardon?” her response echoing through the large space.

  “Those things!” Sharon said as she straightened her back in her seat.

  “Moira’s prisoners, you mean?”

  “Things!”

  A calming breath did nothing to bring Vicky’s rising fury under control. “You do realise you’re talking about people, right?”

  “They’re also all men!”

  “No, they’re not, you moron. At least half of them are women.”

  When Sharon didn’t respond, Vicky threw her arms up in the air. “So what’s your point? Come on, love, spit it out.”

  “My point is they come into this community disguised as prisoners, but they could be working for Moira for all we know. They could be moving in under the guise of needing help and bring us down from the inside.”

  A couple of people other than Dan and Brian nodded at Sharon’s words, but only a couple. The rest of the community seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, shifting on their seats and staring at the floor.

  Instead of responding to the woman, Vicky looked at the people of Home. “So I’ve been in Moira’s community again.”

  “You haven’t asked anyone’s permission to bring them here,” Sharon said, cutting her off.

  “Have you seen them?”

  Sharon didn’t reply.

  “Go and look at the state of them. Look at how skinny they are. They’re wasting away. Quite an extreme length to go to, to slip into our community, wouldn’t you say? Most of them can’t even walk properly they’re so malnourished. I struggle to see how anyone would do that to get inside a community that Moira’s going to attack anyway.”

  A lingering stare at Sharon and she didn’t respond, so Vicky looked at the other people. “We always knew this day would come, and it’s been getting closer. We need to go to war tomorrow.”

  “But you didn’t ask anyone’s permission,” Sharon said.

  Fire rushed through Vicky and her pulse pounded when she roared, “Fucking hell, Sharon! I get that you’re upset, I really do. And you have every right to be. It’s fucking shit what’s happened to your family. But I didn’t do it—”

  “Everything was fine before you turned up.”

  “But it wasn’t, that’s the point. How many fucking times, Sharon? Moira still planned on taking you down, you just didn’t know about it. This day was always going to come.”

  “You still haven’t asked permission to take the prisoners in.”

  “Serj,” Vicky said with a sigh as she turned to the leader of Home.

  Serj flicked his head up at her.

  “You okay with the prisoners being here?”

  Serj nodded.

  Vicky looked at Sharon, Dan, and Brian. Sharon opened her mouth to respond, and Vicky cut her off, “Grind your axe another day, Sharon. We have serious issues to deal with here.”

  Another inhale as if she would go for Vicky again, but Sharon remained quiet.

  After she’d watched Sharon for a few seconds, Vicky turned to the group. Half of them stared at her with their mouths wide open.

  “As I said a moment ago, Moira’s coming. We need to take this fight to her. We need to end this war now. She may have told you she wouldn’t come here if she had me, but she didn’t mean it.”

  A sea of confused faces looked at Vicky, who turned to Serj. “You didn’t have a conversation with Moira?”

  “I would have slit her throat had she come anywhere near me.”

  Dan spoke from the dissenting group this time. “So Moira was happy with just you? She would have left us alone if you’d stayed there? Again?”

  Vicky sighed, but it did little to dilute her rage. “No! That’s my point. She’s coming to attack regardless of what she says and we need to deal with it. If I’d have stayed in her complex, you wouldn’t even have this warning.”

  “Convenient,” Brian said.

  Vicky ignored him. She then said, “Other than the prisoners—who are too weak to fight—we all need to be ready for this.”

  “You’re going to leave them in here?” Sharon said.

  “Now go and
get some rest,” Vicky said to the group. “You’re going to need it. First thing in the morning we’re going to war.”

  A lot of pale faces and sombre nods responded to Vicky’s address. Hardly inspiring, but the facts were far from inspiring. They had a war to fight and it would be on their doorstep before they knew it.

  Exhausted from the day and night, Vicky watched the slow shuffle of people as they left the room to go back to their sleeping quarters.

  Dan, Sharon, and Brian remained where they were. When Vicky walked past them, Sharon said, “This is all your fault.”

  Before Vicky could think, she’d jumped on top of Sharon and pinned her to the ground by her throat. She watched the woman’s mouth flap and her face turn red. She squeezed harder as she clenched her jaw. Although she felt what she assumed to be Dan and Brian pulling at her, Vicky didn’t let go. “You think this is easy for me?” she said as she dribbled on the woman through her gritted teeth. “You think I like seeing people die? You think I like taking responsibility for useless fucks like you?”

  But Sharon couldn’t reply. Instead, she turned redder and the veins on her temples bulged.

  It took for two large arms to wrap around Vicky and yank to get her off Sharon.

  The two women stared at one another while Piotr kept a hold of Vicky.

  Sharon stroked her neck where she’d been choked and her eyes streamed with tears. Although Vicky expected her to say something, she simply shook her head, spun on her heel, and walked away.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Piotr only relaxed his constrictor grip on Vicky after Sharon, Dan, and Brian had left the canteen. Not that she would have followed them, but Piotr had a duty to keep the peace in Home. Besides, she’d done some pretty flighty things in the past few weeks, so maybe he’d made a good judgment call.

  After the large Russian and Serj had also left the canteen, Vicky looked at Flynn. Only two of them in the room now, she said, “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” She glanced at the monitors, which only showed how dark it was outside.

  The acoustics in the large room sounded very different now all the people had left it, and Flynn’s voice echoed when he said, “You should have taken me with you when you went to save Stuart and the other two.”

  Despite watching him grow up and change, Vicky still hadn’t got used to Flynn’s manly voice. “You were fighting the diseased, Flynn. I couldn’t take you away from that.”

  “But it was so clearly a trap. I could have helped you. You could have been killed.”

  “But I wasn’t, was I?”

  “But you could have been. You’re so fucking selfish, Vicky. You need to think about people other than yourself.”

  “I do,” Vicky said. “That’s why I won’t take you with me.”

  “You need to stop protecting me. I’m not a child.”

  How many times would she have to argue with him about the same fucking thing? Maybe she just needed to be a lot more direct. “You’re sixteen, Flynn, not thirty-five. You wouldn’t even be old enough to drink in the old world. Or buy e-cigarettes. Stop being such a self-righteous little brat and appreciate what we’re doing for you to keep you safe in this fucked-up world.”

  Flynn pursed his lips and Vicky watched his nostrils flare as she listened to his heavy breaths.

  Before he could say anything, Vicky said, “Besides, you say you can look after yourself, but you twisted your ankle and needed help the last time we were out.”

  “Not the last time.”

  “Before that you made a noise that revealed us to the diseased. That was what brought the crowd of them down on Home in the first place.”

  “The crowd that you and Serj collected, you mean?”

  Vicky glared at him.

  “This world wouldn’t be fucked up were it not for you. You walk around as if you’re the boss, but the virus never would have left the Alpha Tower if you hadn’t helped the terrorists. How do you think everyone else would feel to know this mess is all your fault? You only have to look after me because you created this!”

  Vicky balled her fists as she stared at the boy. He had no idea what she’d been through. Like she didn’t blame herself for everything that happened with Brendan, Oscar, or whatever the fuck his real name was.

  Instead of attacking Flynn, Vicky turned her back on him and headed for the exit of the canteen. When she saw Piotr standing there, a confused frown on his broad face as he looked straight at her, she froze.

  They stared at one another and it seemed to last an age before Piotr shook his head at Vicky and walked away.

  Vicky’s shoulders slumped with a deep sigh and she muttered, “Fuck it.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Vicky walked toward the canteen the next morning, numb with exhaustion. How could anyone expect her to lead the war against Moira? The only time she’d had to stay awake over the past few weeks, she’d slept like a baby, and now she couldn’t buy a good night’s sleep.

  Dread sat in Vicky’s stomach as a dead weight. The anticipation of war tore at her guts, but to know Piotr had heard Flynn’s accusations the previous night turned the thumbscrews on her anxiety. As much as she’d wanted to pretend to herself he hadn’t heard it, he had. Of course he fucking had.

  And what if he’d told someone already? The disgust she’d seen on his face showed exactly what he thought of Vicky, but would he keep it to himself? What if he told the wrong person? Most of the residents hated her, or at least feared her; it wouldn’t do well for them to know she’d been responsible for forcing them all underground in the first place. Their loved ones had died because of her.

  First to arrive in the canteen, Vicky saw the daylight from the windows in the foyer spill down the stairs. The smell of boiled cabbage hit her as it always did. When she looked at the monitors, her stomach flipped and she stopped dead.

  The view outside showed a risen sun over the meadow in front of Home. It also showed something else. At the very edge of where Vicky could see stood a line of people. Men, women, and even teenagers. Each of them appeared to have a weapon of some sort. Bats, bars, chains, a few swords. They all faced Home, waiting patiently.

  Maybe they’d been there all night. Maybe they’d only just arrived. Either way, they’d come for war, and Home needed to rise to the challenge.

  Vicky spun around and returned to the corridor she’d just walked down. The corridor where she’d had to execute the diseased family just days ago. She yelled so loudly it burned her throat. “Get up now! They’re here! Moira’s community are here!”

  The empty corridor amplified Vicky’s voice. No one appeared, so she shouted again. “Hurry the fuck up! Moira’s community are outside!”

  When someone poked their head from a bedroom door, Vicky yelled, “Wake everyone up, now!”

  A woman in her forties, she frowned at Vicky as if trying to decipher her words.

  Although Vicky slowed her speech, she didn’t lower the volume, a tickle in her throat from where she needed to cough. “Moira and her community are here. We need to mobilise right now.”

  The woman looked like she had more questions, but Vicky didn’t give her the chance to ask them. Instead, she darted across the canteen to the corridor running parallel to the one she’d been in.

  By the time Vicky got there, some of the people had already got up. Heavy breaths from the short run, she looked at the three or four faces and didn’t know the name of a single one. Maybe they would have liked her more had she shown even a passing interest in them, but it was too late now. “We need to get ready,” she called. “We’re going to war!”

  The spears the group had been making stood in a large bin in one corner of the canteen. Vicky jogged over to it and dragged it close to the stairs leading up to the front door of Home. The heavy barrel screeched along the hard linoleum floor.

  At the sight of the first people emerging from the corridors, Vicky yelled, “Come on, get your weapons and get in the foyer. We need to face this.”

/>   Clearly still tired from being woke up, the first few people stumbled toward Vicky, but they watched the monitors as they moved along. A couple of them shook their heads at what they saw. All of them visibly woke up.

  Vicky bounced on the balls of her feet. They weren’t moving quick enough. If she had to, she’d go down there and drag the fuckers into the foyer. “We don’t have time for this bullshit. They’ll be on us before we know it if we don’t do something now.” With her pulse so frantic it felt as if her heart would burst, she said, “Hurry the fuck up!”

  A young lad, who looked to be about eighteen at the most, continued to watch the screen as he said, “Can’t we wait for the diseased to get them?”

  “Have you seen how many of them are out there? They’ll take down even the biggest herd of the fuckers and then they’ll descend on this place. We need to meet them out in the middle of the field where we can fight them.”

  Another look at the monitors again and Vicky saw an old oil barrel with flames stretching from it. “What if they set fire to this place with us in it? We’re sitting ducks in here.”

  The boy seemed far from keen, but from the stoicism on his face, Vicky saw he clearly understood where she came from. Pulled back shoulders and a raised chin, the boy walked over to her, his pale skin turning paler with every second.

  Vicky offered him a spear and he took it before he walked up the stairs into the foyer. She patted his shoulder on his way past. “Good work. Now wait there until we’re all ready to go. We can win this. We can outfight them.” Even as she said the words, her resolve faltered. Hopefully, if Moira’s lot were as useless as the people of Home, they might stand a chance.