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

  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.

  Tight-lipped and a clenched jaw, the boy nodded as he continued up. How many of them would have to die today?

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Not one for head counts, Vicky scanned the foyer and gauged most of Home to be there now. Even if some had stayed behind, they had to get out into the meadow before Moira’s lot came for them. Stuart had given the rest of the spears out while Vicky went to the armoury and picked up a crossbow and baseball bat. Those who had taken weapons out to fight the diseased the previous day still had them. For those who didn’t, the spears would have to do.

  As she shuffled through the press of bodies in the foyer, Vicky ruffled her nose in response to the acrid reek of sick. Nerves had clearly got to some. By the smell of things, nerves had clearly got to quite a few of them. But they’d made it up there and they remained there. When it came to the battle, they’d forget their nausea and defend their lives. Besides, better to get it out now.

  At the front of the foyer—the two large windows and door between her and the people from Moira’s community—Vicky walked up and down in front of the crowd. Serj stood on one side of her, Piotr and Flynn on the other. Maybe she imagined it, but when she looked at Piotr, she met his dark stare in response. It wouldn’t serve any purpose to think about it now.

  “This is it,” Vicky said to the group. “We win this war and we get peace. We wait in here and they’ll flush us out like rats. We need to take the fight to them. Are you ready?”

  Silence.

  After a deep breath to settle her roiling stomach, Vicky shouted so loud it burned her throat. “I said are you ready for this?”

  Flynn, Serj, Sally, and Stuart all shouted, “Yeah!” Their combined voices had quite an effect in the cramped space and the almost still group of people moved and shifted. Piotr continued to glare at Vicky.

  As she pumped her fist in the air, Vicky called again, “Are you ready for this?”

  “Yeah!” A few more people joined in.

  Piotr didn’t. Brian, Sharon, and Dan didn’t.

  They didn’t matter right now. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “YEAH!”

  Vicky walked up to Brian and leaned in his face as she screamed so loudly her head spun, “ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?”

  “YEAH!” the group called, but Brian still didn’t respond, his lips pursed, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed.

  Fuck Brian. Vicky cracked the two bolts on the front door free and pulled it wide. The fresh morning breeze rushed into the place, blowing away the stench of sick. The long grass swayed in front of them. It moved more than the line of people waiting to fight them.

  After she’d stared at the people on the other side of the meadow, adrenaline searing through her, Vicky drew a deep breath that lifted her chest and called out at them, “Let’s fucking have them, then!”

  The people behind her screamed and yelled as Vicky led the charge.

  Chapter Sixty

  Adrenaline forced Vicky’s tiredness from her as she released a battle cry. Her community behind her matched it with equal ferocity.

  Although when Moira’s army answered with their own call, Vicky nearly ground to a halt. The wall of sound damn near blew her hair back. But if she stopped at that moment, how could she expect the people behind her to keep going? They were committed now, and as their leader, she needed to fucking lead.

  The long grass pulled against Vicky’s progress. Not that she could give it any more than a passing thought, her attention returning to the army in front of her.

  It had been dark and Vicky had been on the receiving end of a beating when she’d been in Moira’s community the couple of times she’d been captured by them. So other than Moira, she didn’t recognise any of the wild faces now rushing at them. Men, women, and teenagers, not a single one looked familiar.

  Regardless of who they used to be, they all came at Vicky and the community of Home with just one intent. If they were to survive this, Home needed to match that intent.

  Vicky roared again, freed her crossbow from her back and raised it as she ran. The stamp of feet shook the ground around her.

  The bow kicked when Vicky set the first bolt free and she watched it sink into the face of a boy no more than about fourteen. It took the scream from him before he could loose it and he fell backwards into the long grass.

  Another bolt loaded and ready to go, Vicky set it loose again. The whoosh of it rushed through the air and landed in the chest of a man with a thump as if it had just sunk into a tree. Over six feet tall, the man went down hard, tripping a couple of the people around him. The stampede from their own side ran over all three of them.

  One final bolt and one final casualty. Another man, he went down like the other two had. Vicky didn’t have time to load a fourth bolt. Instead, she threw the crossbow at the woman in front of her and followed it up with a swing of her bat.

  The bat connected on the top of the woman’s head with a deep tonk and the woman’s legs folded beneath her. Dead or just unconscious, as long as the woman had fallen, Vicky didn’t care.

  A man filled the space the woman had occupied and Vicky swung for him. She landed another blow and dropped another person.

  Aware of the fighting around her, Vicky kept her attention on the people in front. To think about everyone on the battlefield would spin her out. She could only focus on those she had to fight.

  A hard contact crashed into Vicky’s left shoulder and she stumbled sideways. She clattered into a woman from Home, who raised her spear, her eyes wide and her nostrils flared. The mask of fury quickly cleared, pushed aside by comprehension as the woman clearly realised who Vicky was. She turned her spear on the man in front of her from Moira’s community and drove it—with two hands—into his chest.

  Whatever hit Vicky’s left arm had turned it dead. Being right-handed gave her the dexterity to jab her bat into the face of the person in front of her. A slight girl no older than about sixteen, she took the end of the baseball bat to her nose with a wet crunch and fell backwards.

  Vicky’s heart ached along with her exhausted and beaten body to see the girl go down. So few humans left on the planet and they could only manage to fight one another.

  Until that moment, Vicky hadn’t noticed Brian, Dan, and Sharon fighting on the left of her. They stabbed and kicked, blood coating the shafts of their spears and spraying their clothes. The metallic reek of it mixed with the sweaty, shitty stench of battle.

  When Vicky looked back in front, three of Moira’s guards homed in on her. Maybe Moira had earmarked her as a target before they started. No, Moira had definitely earmarked her as a target. The three large men looked to be carrying out orders as they closed in. Two of them had machetes while the third had a bent crowbar.

  Vicky’s already ragged heart leapt higher in her throat as if trying to escape her body. No matter how she tried to drag breaths into her lungs, she couldn’t get the oxygen she needed. A look at Brian and the others and they all looked back at Vicky first and then the men closing in on her. As one, the three of them turned away.

  “What the fuck?” Vicky yelled, but she didn’t have time to protest any further because the three men h
ad slowed down and formed a semicircle around her.

  Shallow of breath and with a dry throat, Vicky stepped back a pace. A fox cornered by wolves, she looked from one of the men to the other, each one of them ravenous with intent. They were here to destroy her. The people who could have helped her had just turned their backs.

  A quick glance to her right and Vicky saw the woman with the spear next to her locked in a battle with a teenage boy. The boy had a sword, the sunlight glinting off the blade as he lunged forward with it. The woman next to her bent over double—her mouth stretched wide—and she folded into the long grass.

  When Vicky looked back at the men closing in on her, she shook beyond her control. She looked left at Brian, Dan, and Sharon again and saw they’d moved farther away from her than before.

  Vicky refocused on the men. If she had to go down, she needed to take at least one of them with her. After tightening her grip on her bat, she shook her head to herself and stepped forward to her death.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  A flash of a person appeared in Vicky’s right peripheral vision and she jumped back to avoid them.

  Stuart—spear in hand—lunged at one of the two with a machete and he drove the tip of his spear into the man’s face. It sank into him with a wet schlop, and Stuart quickly withdrew the spear as the man fell into the long grass.

  Before Stuart could launch another attack, the second man with a machete brought it through the air in a wide arc that culminated in the middle of Stuart’s crown.

  Blood sprayed Vicky’s face and she flinched away. As Stuart fell, she dodged to the side to get out of his way. Her stomach dropped to see him down and the world blurred in front of her as tears stretched across her eyes. But she didn’t have time to cry. Not now. Instead, she stepped over the fallen Stuart and swung her bat at the man who’d attacked him. A vibration pinged up the bat and the man fell.

  Before the final man of the three could respond, Vicky took him down too. She threw repeated blows at his head when he hit the ground, turning his skull to a pulp in the long grass.

  The fight continued around Vicky, and she couldn’t gauge which side had the advantage. Although at that moment it stopped mattering. The sound lit up the air and rang louder than any battle cry.

  More than one of them, it came from behind Moira’s gang.

  The call of the diseased.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  No matter how many times Vicky heard it, the call of the diseased lit up her spine with an electric chill. She squinted to look at the rising sun on the horizon, and although too many of Moira’s community stood between her and the diseased for her to get a true idea of their numbers, the sound and the frantic blur of the scuffle at the back of the meadow indicated there were enough to keep Moira’s lot busy.

  Other than the front line, Moira’s guards turned their backs on the fight with Home and focused on the diseased. A preconditioned response to a formidable enemy, they’d just left themselves at the mercy of Home.

  Those from Home who managed to keep their heads took advantage of the turned backs and a score or more of Moira’s guards were quickly knocked down.

  Before they could attack again, Vicky called out, “Retreat! Get back to Home now. Let them fight the diseased. This battle is over for us.”

  A few people from Home, rocking with their ragged breaths and covered in the blood of their enemy, stopped and looked at Vicky. But when they saw the others turn and run back, they took off after them.

  Even before the first person reached Home’s open door, Vicky heard the sounds of the battle between Moira’s lot and the diseased get louder. Snarls and growls collided with screams and cries.

  Not the first to Home’s front door, but among the first and after Flynn, Vicky stood in the doorway and watched the residents return. Maybe she wouldn’t recognise if some of Moira’s crowd tried to sneak in, but between her and Flynn, they would hopefully pick them out.

  Covered in blood, limping, and just plain exhausted, the people funnelled back into the complex. A mixture of pain and relief painted their faces. Because Moira’s lot separated them and the diseased, Vicky didn’t worry about any of them having been bitten and let them all in.

  When Brian, Dan, and Sharon approached, Vicky clenched her jaw and balled her fists. “Stuart died because of you, you fucking arseholes. I hope you’re proud.”

  None of them replied as they filed into the complex and it took all of Vicky’s resolve to refrain from lashing out at them. She shared a look with Flynn, but they didn’t speak to one another.

  As the stragglers returned—an exhausted Serj among them—the entirety of Moira’s community had turned to face the battle with the horde of diseased. When Vicky saw Moira, her entire frame locked tight.

  Clearly consumed with panic, Moira stood—or rather, hid—behind her army as they battled the diseased.

  A look at both Flynn and Serj and Vicky said, “I need to do this. That woman can’t walk away.”

  A stoic nod from Flynn and he stepped forward.

  “I need you on the door,” Vicky said to him. “I need someone here on my side who’ll let me back in when I return. I worry some of them will lock me out given half a chance.” She looked inside and glared at Sharon.

  For a moment, Flynn looked like he would contest Vicky’s request. Instead, he dropped his shoulders with a sigh and nodded. “Just hurry up, yeah?”

  Vicky took off through the long grass.

  The closer Vicky got to the battle between Moira’s community and the diseased, the more rancid the smell. The diseased’s stench soured the air.

  The long grass whipped at Vicky’s midriff and made it hard to see the fallen bodies from the battle. However, when she got closer to them, the grass remained trampled from the fight and they were easy to avoid. She jumped several corpses in her way.

  Moira—much like the people of her community—seemed more concerned with the diseased at that moment. The witch didn’t even turn to face Vicky as she closed down on her.

  As much as Vicky could have used her bat on the vicious woman, she reached around for the knife in the back of her belt and teased it free.

  Just two steps separated the pair when Vicky raised the blade and yelled, “You fucking cunt!” She drove it into the side of Moira’s head, knocking the bitch sideways from the blow, her long black hair whipping away from her as she fell.

  Some of the people in Moira’s community turned to look at Vicky, but with their comrades falling around them, they quickly turned back to the threat in front of them.

  Vicky didn’t need another chance, so before anyone could register what had happened, she spun around and headed back to Home.

  When Vicky returned to the flattened grass and the fallen people, she jumped over the downed bodies again, her lungs burning with the pain of trying to keep going.

  Back at Home’s entrance, Vicky looked at Flynn and the boy nodded at her. If his face presented an accurate representation of his mood, then he understood Vicky’s need to go it alone with killing Moira. Out of breath and struggling to get it back, she nodded at Flynn. They’d done it.

  Just before Vicky entered Home, Serj grabbed her arm and said, “Look.”

  Vicky turned to see one of their number coming back to the complex and she gasped. “Piotr?”

  The large man ran with a heavy gait, his bulky frame clearly not designed for sprinting. As Vicky, Flynn, and Serj waited for the big man, Vicky’s heart lifted. They might have had a beef, but Piotr had been a good friend.

  When Piotr stopped about five metres short of Home’s entrance, Vicky gasped. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Piotr shook his head and looked from her to Flynn to Serj.

  Dread tugged on Vicky’s body as if the planet’s gravitational pull had been turned up. Nausea rolled through her guts. She didn’t need to see it to know the problem, but Piotr pulled his sleeve back anyway and showed them the bite. “Fuck,” Vicky muttered.

  Flynn cr
ied out, “No! Piotr, please come back. We can fix it.”

  “No, you can’t,” the large Russian replied. “This is the end for me.”

  Tears ran down Flynn’s cheeks and he shook his head. “No, it can’t be. Piotr, please.”

  “I’m sorry, Flynn.”

  Grief stuck Vicky’s words in her throat and she had to force them out. “Thank you,” she said to Piotr. “Thank you for all you’ve done for Flynn. You’ve been great for him.”

  When Vicky looked at Flynn, she saw the boy seemed unable to speak through his grief.

  A confused frown crushed Piotr’s face as he also cried. “I’m sorry, Vicky.”

  “Don’t be sorry; you didn’t mean to get bitten.”

  Piotr looked like he wanted to say more. Instead, he shook his head and said, “I’m sorry.” He then turned to face the battle on the other side of the meadow and ran towards the people from Moira’s community.

  Once Piotr had halved the distance between him and them, his right arm snapped away from him in a spasm. Clumsy in his movements, he spasmed again. Another snap away with his left arm, this time as if he’d been jabbed with electricity. His head tilted to one side. Another twitch and he roared.

  Just as he jumped on the back of the pack, Vicky reached across and tugged on Flynn’s arm.

  Flynn might have looked like he didn’t want to follow Vicky, but he didn’t resist her pull either. Instead, he walked into Home with her, his form slumped, his head dropped.

  Vicky pulled Home’s large front door closed and slid the bolts across on the top and the bottom. The only sound remaining came from the ragged recovery of exhaustion as the people in the foyer pulled themselves together. Then she reached up and whacked the button to set the siren off.

  The loud wail rang out, and when Vicky turned around, many of the people there stared at her. “I want to make sure no one gets away. If that wasn’t all the diseased in the area, it soon will be. No way can those fuckers walk away from this. No way.”