The Alpha Plague 3 (7 page)

Tired of her bullshit Rhys sighed. “And you have a better idea, do you? Or do you just want to spend this entire time criticising me for taking some kind of action?”
 

After she’d tied her other shoe, Larissa got to her feet and looked up the road in the direction they needed to head. She clearly didn’t have a better solution, so she said, “Come on, let’s get out of here. I don’t like seeing this crap.”

Not an apology, far fucking from it in fact, but it would have to do.

***

For the next ten minutes or so the pair ran. The slap of their shoes against the hard road existed as the only sound between them. The aches of the past day caught up with Rhys again and the hard jolts of his feet against the road ran shocks up his back. It twisted the ache at the bottom of his spine from the bike crash.

In the half-mind of running, most of his attention on his breaths, Rhys couldn’t police his thoughts like he could when he walked. Sadness turned his limbs heavy and the tightness in his throat made it hurt to breathe. He spoke between gasps for air. “I can’t … believe … Dave’s gone.”

For the first time since they’d found the bloody police car Larissa’s cold demeanour warmed a little. A sympathetic frown furrowed her brow. She first looked at the woodland area that ran alongside the road before she said, “It’s sad. I’m sorry for your loss, Rhys.”

“And you yours. I know how much Clive meant to you.”

A sharp nod and Larissa looked in front of her again. Their footsteps synchronised and they pushed on.

The woodland area on their right pulled away when they arrived at the first town. They slowed to a fast walk as they took the place in. Rhys’ eyes stung from where sweat had run into them and a shimmer ran through his heart. “This was when I realised the virus had gotten out of the city. Vicky and I came through here and saw blood on the streets.” As the first garage door came into view Rhys said, “It was that garage—” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
 

In big red letters in what could have only been blood, read, ‘R - Call Me - 07734 921118 - V.’

Despite his exhaustion and jagged fear Rhys smiled. “I told you we should head this way. I knew we’d be on the right track if we did.”

“Do you have a phone?”

Rhys’ frame sagged. “No. Do you?”

A shake of her head and Larissa sighed. “We need to get that number down and find one.”

Rhys chewed on his bottom lip as he looked around for something. He then clicked his fingers when he saw a large bush to his right. “I’ve got it.” Rhys walked over to it and pulled ten of its long and waxy green leaves off.

“What are you doing?” Larissa said.

“Ten leaves. I’ll tear slits into them for each number and stack them in the correct order.”

“But there’s
eleven
numbers.”

“I think I’ll remember the first number’s a zero.”

Larissa didn’t reply.
 

Night had well and truly settled in by the time Rhys had finished. He slipped the stacked leaves into his pocket in order. “Right,” he said, “all we need now is a phone.”

Dark as it was outside every window on every house looked even darker. Not a single light had been switched on in the street. Maybe a power cut, maybe just a sign of an abandoned town. Whatever the reason Rhys’ body wound tight as he stood in the near silence of the place.

With Larissa by his side Rhys walked over to the first house. “If only it were like the old days when people actually had a landline.”
 

As Larissa walked next to him she said, “I don’t fucking like it here. There could be anything in any of these houses.”

“Don’t worry, I think the town cleared out a while ago.” The warble in his voice undermined his confidence, but Larissa didn’t pull him up on it.
 

Rhys approached the first house in the street, the one with the bloody garage door. He walked up to a dark window and only saw his reflection. When he stepped closer still, his warm breath turned to condensation on the glass. It made it harder to see inside.
 

With his hands cupped around either side of his face to block out even the moonlight, Rhys pressed against the window and stared into the dark room. His skin tingled as adrenaline surged through him. It looked like the living room from what he could see. It seemed empty. “I’m not sure we’re going to have much—”

The face of a diseased sprung up on the other side of the pane and Rhys’ heart damn near jumped from his chest. A huge chunk of flesh hung from the side of its face like a rancid strip of steak. With hatred locked onto Rhys through its bloody eyes, it opened its mouth and released its war cry.

Chapter Eight

About twenty-two weeks ago

“Look, Vicky,” Brendan said as he pulled a chair out and sat down at the kitchen table opposite her, “it’s been over two weeks since our anniversary meal and,” he reached over and held both of her hands “I’m not prying, but you’ve been different. Whatever you found out at work that day is eating you up and I want to help if I can.”

Vicky looked out of the window to her right. The entire wall on that side of their penthouse apartment was made from glass. The tallest building for a few miles around, it gave them a great view. London sat as a backdrop with the towered skyline an ever-changing sight of architectural competition. Phallus after phallus, each one grander and bigger than the one next to it.
And who said it was a man’s world?

In the foreground however, stood the Alpha Tower. The sight of it hadn’t bothered Vicky when they moved in. To see it every time she looked out of the window now made the knot in her stomach twist tighter. Although the tower hadn’t bothered her at first, she wouldn’t have chosen the flat, but Brendan loved the view. He said it was perfect. And seeing as he’d been the one paying for it, it made sense that Vicky should honour his wishes. But now
everything
had changed.

When she looked back at him, Brendan shrugged. “So, do you want to talk about it?”

“Of course I want to talk about it.” Vicky ground her jaw and her vision blurred. She swallowed against the burn in her throat. “I want to talk about it more than ever. But I
can’t
. I’m sworn to secrecy, remember?”

A frown creased Brendan’s forehead. “But you can trust me, Vic.”

Some of the tension left Vicky as the grief took over. It rushed through her as a hot wave and her eyes watered. A deep and stuttered sigh and she said, “I know I can. I know.”

Brendan squeezed her hands. “Look, I wouldn’t normally pry, but I’m worried about you. Whatever it is you’re keeping to yourself is clearly eating you up. I can help if you let me.”

If she continued to look into his intense blue stare she’d give everything away, so Vicky looked down at the glass-topped table. For a few seconds she focused on one spot in front of her and felt her breaths; in and out, in and out. When things overwhelmed her she tried to bring herself into the present moment. Nothing mattered but the now. It made no sense to try and think beyond that point. When she thought of the future she couldn’t see a way out.

When she looked back up warm tears rolled down her cheeks. Another deep and stuttered breath and she said, “I found out what they do in the Alpha Tower.”

Brendan straightened his back and leaned toward her. “What is it? You can tell me.”

He sounded keen, not a surprise really. If she’d lived with him like this for the past few weeks, she’d be champing at the bit to find out what was up his arse. “
Zombies
, Brendan.”

Brendan jumped back and his seat screeched over the hard floor. “
Zombies
?”

“I know. It sounds fucking
mental
doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean
zombies
? You’ll have to give me a little more than that.”

Unable to control the shake that ran through her Vicky pulled her hand away from Brendan and bit one of her fingernails. It had been years since she’d bitten them and she could still smell the lemon hand wash she’d used earlier that day. “We have the whole weapons embargo, right?”

“Yep,” Brendan said.
 

“And we’re stuck in the middle of this stupid cold war.”

“And may that end as soon as possible.”

“Well, I think they’ve moved into bio-weapons.”

“And they’re making them in the Alpha Tower?” Brendan asked.

“Exactly.”

“But how do you know?”

“Artem.”

“Your ex-boyfriend?”

“Yep. He showed me some CCTV footage from the labs. He works in building management too, but in the control room. He’s known for some time. He’s sworn to secrecy but he had to show somebody else.”
 

“And you
saw
a zombie?”

“Well no, but—”

“How do you know they’re making a virus then?”

“We heard a couple of scientists talk about it. About how the disease was coming along, about how it would put an end to this civil war. About how it would tear through The East until there was no-one left.”

What looked like fury but must have been something else, discomfort or maybe revulsion, gripped a hold of Brendan’s features and his warm hands left Vicky’s as he withdrew. Then as quickly as it had settled on him, it vanished.
 

“Sorry,” Brendan said and shook his head and reached across for her hands again. “That was a bit of a shock to hear.”

“I know, right? That’s why I’ve been so messed up about it. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t like The East.”

“Who does?”

“But I don’t want to see a virus dropped on it either. Just because our leaders can’t get along it doesn’t mean their children should die, their schoolteachers, their doctors … ” her voice trailed off.

Brendan shook his head and looked out of the window at the city. After a few seconds he turned back to Vicky. “You’ve
got
to leave.”

“I want to
,
more than anything,” exhaustion tugged on Vicky’s frame “but I
can’t
. If I leave they’ll
know
something’s up. I told them everything was great a few weeks ago. How would that look if I suddenly decided I didn’t want to work there anymore? They wouldn’t risk it. They’d make me … ” She choked on her words before she finally said, “They’d make me disappear.”

The screech of Brendan’s chair pulled Vicky’s shoulders up to her neck. He got to his feet, walked around the table, and hugged her. His aftershave, strong yet subtle, offered a familiar comfort. She leaned against his well-developed chest and felt the vibration of his deep voice along the side of her face.

“Shit Vic, I see what you mean. You’re right. You need to stay. But what’s happening there is
horrible
. Completely unforgivable. We’ll figure something out, okay?”

Both blinded and choked by her tears Vicky sobbed as she nodded. When Brendan squeezed her harder she said, “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey, and don’t worry
.
We’ll get through this.”

Chapter Nine

The
crash
of the breaking window called out into the night air as the diseased leaped through it at Rhys.
 

With his arms out in front of him he deflected the thing without getting bitten. Two
chings
sounded out as he dropped both of his stool legs and a sharp pain ran through his shoulder blades when he fell onto the hard driveway.

The smell of decay overwhelmed him as he sat up and stared at the hideous creature. He scrambled backwards, his tired legs sluggish from the day’s exertion. A mixture of adrenaline, exhaustion, and pain spun through his head, but he kept moving.
 

The diseased hopped up into an animalistic crouch, stared at Rhys though its bloody eyes, and roared again before it charged at him.
 

Because Rhys hadn’t gotten to his feet he fell flat on his back again as the thing jumped on top of him.
 

Sandwiched between the monster and the hard concrete driveway, Rhys reached up and grabbed the diseased around its throat. Its cold, clammy, and wax-like skin sent gooseflesh down both of Rhys’ arms. Rhys shook beneath its weight as he watched the angry thing bite at the air between them. A series of castanet clicks snapped near his face, but none of them connected. The thing only had half of its teeth left in its dark mouth.
 

Rhys’ knuckles ached as he tightened his grip. It felt like trying to choke a constrictor.
 

The monster twisted and writhed as if to break free of Rhys’ grasp. When it turned to the side Rhys saw the gash down the side of its face. At about six inches long the tacky wound bore the evidence of where it had been bitten.
 

With his teeth clenched Rhys growled and pushed against his own shaking arms to keep the monster away from him. But the thing started to overpower him and his flagging strength was no match for the beast’s weight and desire.

As the monster pushed down Rhys had to turn his head to avoid its bloody drool. Warm and tacky it landed against his neck like snot. The pungent reek of rot made Rhys’ eyes water while the hard driveway burned his shoulder blades.

Rhys closed his eyes as he dug deep and he screamed through his clenched teeth as his entire body shook. He couldn’t hold out much longer. Then the pressure suddenly eased. He looked up to see one of the stool legs driven through the side of the thing’s face. The pole had been rammed so hard it had gone straight through the diseased’s head and out the other side.
 

The monster fell off him and Larissa followed up with her other stool leg. Wild-eyed and red faced she stabbed the creature repeatedly in the side of its head.
 

Rhys got to his feet, rolled the pain from his shoulders, and watched her pepper the thing with stab wounds. Its bloody right eye had popped from its head and rested on the driveway. A stringy line of nerves and muscles led back into the dark red socket.

“I think you’ve done enough,” Rhys said.

Larissa stabbed it four more times before she finally eased up. Sweat beaded her brow and she drew heavy breaths. “I wanted to make sure.”