Mutation (Twenty-Five Percent Book 1)

by Wheatley, Nerys

  “While all you had to do was get an eight stone woman a few feet across the room and she almost killed you.” Micah clamped his mouth shut, a snort escaping as his shoulders shook with restrained laughter.

  “I’m so glad you’re enjoying this.” Alex lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I need a day off.”

  “I checked on psycho bitch and she was complaining about her arms being sore cuffed behind her.”

  “Do I look like I care if her arms are sore?”

  Micah shrugged. “I’m just relaying the message, only I edited out the copious swearing. What are we going to do with her anyway?”

  Alex started to rub his eyes, stopping abruptly when pain exploded in his nose. “Right now I vote for leaving her where she is and letting her dehydrate to death.”

  “Really?”

  He sighed. “No. But don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind. She’s probably not a danger to other people, but I’d rather not let her out while we’re anywhere near.”

  Micah snorted. “Wise decision. I don’t think you’d survive another encounter.”

  Alex sat up again. “Let’s work it out tomorrow. I want to get some sleep before we head out to find someone else who wants to kill me.”

  16

  With the sun not due to rise for another few hours, Alex and Micah went back to their respective beds. Half an hour later they were up again when Kerry’s non-stop yelling became impossible to ignore.

  After some threats that didn’t work at all, they found some masking tape and wrapped a few layers around her mouth. Then they cuffed her to the bars so she couldn’t rub against anything to peel the gag off.

  When they’d finished, Alex found some ibuprofen and paracetamol, took as many as he could without killing himself, curled up in bed, and waited for the various parts of his anatomy to stop throbbing.

  . . .

  When Alex woke again it was light outside. A look at his watch revealed it to be 7:47am. He considered trying to go back to sleep, but his nose was hurting and he didn’t think it likely he would. So he hauled his body with its varying aches and pains from the bed and looked in the mirror, which turned out to be a mistake. He could have lived without seeing how many and varied were the shades of purple that human skin could become.

  After a quick shower and a shave with a pink disposable razor he found in a cupboard next to a bottle of lube, he picked out a new outfit from the wardrobe of men’s clothing, trying hard to not dwell on the fact they had probably been modelled by George at some point.

  When he walked into the cage room, Kerry was free of the cuffs and tape and eating a packet of crisps, sitting in the corner nearest George’s corpse.

  Micah was kneeling on the floor beside a couple of small tables, fiddling around with various household items.

  “Finally,” he said, looking up, “I was just about to come and wake you. I was starting to think you’d died of your injuries or something.”

  Alex thought about pointing out that it was barely eight, but assumed it wouldn’t do any good. “Why’s she so quiet?” he said, nodding at Kerry.

  Micah held up a taser he had on the table next to him. “I told her I’d use this if she did anything. Sadly, she hasn’t. I was looking forward to trying it out.”

  The sight of Kerry’s crisps made Alex’s stomach rumble, so he went to get his own packet from the kitchen then came back and sat in an armchair to eat.

  “So now you’re stealing my food too?” Kerry said. “I should...” She stopped abruptly when Micah lifted the taser, muttering the rest of whatever she was going to say under her breath.

  “What are you doing?” Alex said, looking at Micah’s assortment of items.

  “I assumed you would not want to kill little miss sunshine over there,” he said, putting the taser back on the table, “so I’m rigging something up so we can be well away from here by the time she’s free.”

  Alex studied the collection more closely. Micah had created a line of items, beginning with an old fashioned alarm clock with the bells on the top at one end, which would trigger a short series of events leading to the key to the cage at the other end being propelled into the air to land within Kerry’s reach.

  “You played a lot of Mousetrap when you were a kid, didn’t you?” Alex said.

  “Every day between the ages of eight and twelve,” Micah replied. “If I hadn’t decided to become a doctor, I would have gone into engineering.” He took the clock, set it for thirty seconds ahead, then carefully replaced it on the table. Instead of the key, he placed a spoon at the end. “Check this out.”

  After a few seconds, the clock rang. The vibration knocked a book over. Three seconds and a flurry of movement later, the spoon flew into the air and landed on the floor a foot outside the bars. Kerry darted forward and grabbed it before retreating back into her corner.

  “I love this stuff,” Micah said, laughing.

  Alex grinned. “That was pretty cool, I have to admit.”

  By eight-thirty, they were ready to leave. Micah set up his contraption to go off two hours later while Alex packed up the bag and attached the sword in its scabbard to his belt.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Kerry said.

  Both men stopped what they were doing to look at her.

  “Take my advice,” Alex said. “The city is crawling with eaters. If you go outside, you won’t last an hour. Just stay here.”

  When she didn’t reply, they walked to the door. Kerry’s hate-filled gaze didn’t leave them until they left.

  . . .

  Their pursuers from the previous day had largely disbursed from around the house, but the area was still crawling with eaters. For a while it seemed all they did was hide. Progress was slow. But eventually the concentration of eaters lessened and they were able to walk more than a hundred feet without having to stop and duck behind a wall or throw themselves over a fence.

  When they reached a neighbourhood Alex knew well, he voiced a thought he’d been having for a while. “My partner lives not far from here. The last time I saw him was just before I let you out of jail. He was going to find his daughters and I’d like to check if he’s there.”

  Micah looked confused. “Partner? I thought you were straight.”

  “Not that kind of partner,” Alex said. “Police partner.”

  “Oh. No problem. But if you could not mention how we met, that would be good.”

  “Okay,” he said, with only a small smirk. “If he found Beth and Carrie, he’d have brought them here. They’re both at the university. They live on campus.”

  Micah’s eyebrows inched up. “How old are these daughters?”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Don’t you ever stop?”

  “Stop what?”

  They reached Cutter’s house ten minutes later. It was a modest terrace in a leafy street in a reasonable neighbourhood. Alex had lived in a flat only a couple of minutes away, before he was infected and, subsequently, evicted.

  There was no indication that anyone was home as they walked up the path to the door. The front lawn was transitioning from untidy to overgrown, but Cutter’s lawn was frequently like that. The only things blooming in the flowerbeds were dandelions.

  Raising his hand to knock, Alex stopped when a voice growled from inside, “I’m armed and I’m angry. Piss off before I blow your head off.”

  Micah raised his eyebrows.

  “But I brought Jaffa cakes,” Alex said.

  “MacCallum?”

  The door opened and a grin erupted on Cutter’s face. “You’re alive!”

  Alex was slightly taken aback by the welcome. He didn’t remember Cutter ever being so happy to see him, or for that matter anyone else, other than his daughters.

  “Hanging in there,” Alex said as he walked through the porch into the living room. “This is Micah. It’s a long story.”

  Alex was fairly sure Cutter hadn’t seen Micah at the station and he gave no sign of recognition, merely nodding at him. Th
en his eyes dropped to Alex’s empty hands.

  “I may have lied about the Jaffa cakes,” he said.

  Cutter’s smile turned to a frown as he pointed at him. “You don’t lie about Jaffa cakes, ever. I should throw you back out.”

  “Alex!”

  Alex turned to see a pretty young brunette run across the room and fling her arms around him.

  “I was worried about you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “I’m glad you’re safe, Carrie,” he said, smiling.

  Cutter stepped forward and unwound his youngest daughter from Alex’s neck. “Arm’s length apart at all times in this house,” he said.

  Carrie pouted at him. “When are you going to take me away from all this?” she said to Alex, waving a hand at her father.

  “When your father won’t kill me if I do,” he replied.

  “So never,” Cutter said.

  Carrie was staring at Alex’s face. “What happened to your nose?”

  “Someone punched me,” he said quickly, before Micah could say anything. “Big dude, fists like rocks.”

  Micah snorted. Alex ignored him.

  Carrie turned her attention to Micah who had shifted his weight onto one leg and pushed his fingers into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Hello,” she said.

  He smiled. “Hi. I’m Micah.”

  “Arm’s length, Mike,” Alex muttered.

  “I thought that was you I heard, Alex.” Beth Cutter, Carrie’s older sister, was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling.

  She walked across the room to give him a hug then smiled at Micah. Both of Cutter’s daughters were gorgeous. Micah looked like it was Christmas.

  Alex stifled a twinge of jealousy and tried to be magnanimous. He didn’t entirely succeed. “This is Micah. He’s been tagging along with me for a couple of days.”

  “Did you make it back to the station on Monday?” Cutter said as he not so subtly stationed himself between Beth and Micah.

  Alex couldn’t prevent a touch of sadness creeping into his voice. “Yeah, I did.”

  “You know what, how about some lunch?” Cutter said.

  “It’s only just after ten,” Carrie said.

  “Then breakfast.”

  “We already had breakfast...”

  “Then we’ll call it brunch, okay?” he said, flashing her an exasperated glance.

  “I could eat,” Alex said, seeing that Cutter didn’t want Beth and Carrie to hear about whatever had happened.

  “Good,” Cutter said, clapping his hands together in such an uncharacteristic gesture his daughters stared at him as if he’d gone mad. He ignored them and looked at Alex. “Give me a hand, will you?” Without waiting for an answer, he strode into the kitchen.

  Carrie sighed. “He doesn’t want us to hear the bad stuff,” she said softly to Alex, “but we know what’s going on.”

  “He just wants to protect you,” he replied.

  She gave a small smile. “I know.”

  Taking Alex’s hand, she led him into the kitchen then headed for the fridge. “I’m just here for a drink for Micah,” she said in response to Cutter’s expression when they entered.

  Alex gaped at the near ceiling height stacks of supplies and tinned and dried food in one corner. He couldn’t believe how much Cutter had done in two days, when he hadn’t even been able to get home yet.

  “Wow, you’re really prepared for the long haul,” he said.

  “He’s rationing the toilet paper,” Carrie said with a grimace that made Alex laugh.

  “You’ll be glad when you’re not using newspaper,” Cutter said.

  “Dad, we have tons of it. This will all be over long before that happens.”

  “I’m sure it will,” he said.

  She smiled and wandered back into the living room to where Micah and Beth were chatting.

  “So what happened?” Cutter said, watching the little group.

  It turned out to be more difficult than Alex was expecting to recount the events from the station two days before. In the intervening time, things had been so hectic that he’d been able to avoid thinking too much about losing his friends and colleagues. But telling Cutter brought it all back. More than once, he had to stop briefly to compose himself before continuing.

  Cutter dropped onto one of the chairs at his small dining table and rubbed a hand across his face. “I’d hoped they’d all made it home to be with their families.”

  Alex sat down beside him. “Yeah.” It was all he could think to say.

  “So what’s the story with Micah? What have you been doing the last two days?”

  Alex gave him a brief rundown of everything that had happened since, leaving out the parts about Micah being in a jail cell when he found him and his nose actually being almost broken by an insane woman who wanted him to impregnate her. “You don’t think this is going to end soon, do you?” he said at the end.

  “I really hope it does,” Cutter said, “but from what I’ve seen out there? No, I don’t. Metal barriers trapping the eaters in here? Secret labs? I’ll be damned if I know what’s going on, but I don’t think we’re going to wake up tomorrow with everything back to normal.” He sighed, looking at his daughters. “I collected all this because I don’t want to have to go out there again. I don’t want to leave my girls and I can’t risk being hurt or killed. They haven’t really needed me for a long time, but right now they need me to protect them.” He took a shuddering breath. “I would give my life for them, but I worry that’s not enough.”

  In all the years Alex had known Cutter, he had never seen him so emotional. It scared him, like being a child and seeing his parents upset. “They couldn’t ask for a better father than you,” he said. “The three of you are going to be fine.”

  “Alex, if anything happens to me...” He trailed off into silence.

  “It’s not going to,” Alex said with conviction. Rodney Cutter was one of the toughest people he knew. “But I will protect them, I promise.”

  Cutter nodded. “Thanks.” He wiped at his eyes and then chuckled. “But who’s going to protect you from Carrie?”

  Alex smiled and looked at her. “I’m not sure that’s a problem right now.”

  Both Carrie and Beth seemed to be hanging on Micah’s every word. It was obvious he was loving it.

  “Do you trust him?” Cutter said.

  “At first I wasn’t sure, but he’s had my back since this all started. So yeah, I trust him.”

  “Good. I’ve been sure you’d get yourself killed without me on damage control when you pull one of your stupid stunts.” He looked at Micah with his daughters. “But so you know, if he doesn’t stop flirting with my girls, I’m going to rip his arms off.”

  Alex shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  Cutter stood and walked into the living room to where Beth and Carrie were laughing and Micah was leaning casually against a sideboard with his chest puffed out.

  Cutter affected the most unconvincing smile Alex had ever seen. “You three getting on okay over here?”

  “Dad,” Carrie said, “Micah told us the funniest story...”

  “Yeah, sounds fascinating. Micah, I’m sure you’re a great guy and MacCallum trusts you, but I will say this just once. Stay away from my girls.”

  Beth looked horrified. “Dad, I’m twenty-two!”

  “I don’t care,” Cutter said. “Right now I am in full on protective father mode and nothing is getting anywhere near the two of you, whether it’s hungry or horny.”

  Alex stifled a chuckle as Micah straightened.

  “Sir, I... I wasn’t...”

  “Of course you were. I have two beautiful daughters and you’re a man.” He smiled. “Now, how about that brunch?”

  . . .

  They left the Cutters more than an hour later.

  Although Alex wanted to get home, it felt good to relax for a while in a place where he could be sure no-one was trying to eat or kill him. And Micah didn’t offer any obje
ctions.

  They headed in the general direction of East Town, keeping to the more residential roads where the roaming eaters weren’t so numerous.

  “Do you know if Beth’s seeing anyone?” Micah said as they walked.

  “Cutter hasn’t mentioned torturing anyone lately.”

  “Torturing?”

  “He’s very protective of them. About a year ago he didn’t think this guy Beth was seeing was being good enough to her. She’d mentioned some stuff, nothing serious, but where he was being a bit of a jerk. Cutter had the entire station giving him traffic violation tickets for a week before he got the message and started treating her like royalty. Although she dumped him two weeks later anyway.” He smirked. “But if you want to try, go ahead.”

  Micah smiled. “When this is all over, maybe I will. I’m good with fathers. He’ll come around.”

  “Good luck with that. You’ll need it.”

  “Carrie seems to like you a lot.”

  Alex shrugged. “It’s just a crush. It’s been going on for four years, since she was fifteen.”

  “She’s certainly not fifteen anymore.”

  “True, but I’m not suicidal. Cutter would saw my dick off and beat me to death with it.”

  They turned onto a street with a small park sloping down away from the road on one side and a row of terraced houses along the other.

  “We can cut through the park...” Micah began, stopping as three men stepped out of a doorway in front of them.

  “What’s in the bag?” one of the men said in a deep voice that could have given Barry White a run for his money. The man’s appearance matched. Black, head shaved, at least six five, with a build that made Alex wonder if he bench pressed shipping containers.

  He pointed at Alex’s bag of weapons with what looked like a bread knife.

  “Groceries,” Alex said. “We thought we’d stock up. You know what people are like when the excrement hits the cooling system.”

  “Well, this is our street, and the fee to pass is that bag,” one of the other men said, a marginally smaller white guy with a ponytail and a tattoo of the Greek letter pi on his left cheek. Alex wondered if he knew what it meant. The man casually hefted a kitchen chopping knife in his right hand.