The Alpha Plague 3 (9 page)

Larissa didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled the shirt off one of the diseased she’d killed and did the same with her broken stool legs.
 

Rhys couldn’t help but look down at the woman Larissa had taken the shirt from. A toned body, he could almost forget about the pulped face and reek of rot. His stomach turned. Who was he kidding?
 

“Vicky told me the disease is only passed through saliva, but I’m not taking any risks.”

Larissa seemed to tense up at the mention of Vicky. She didn’t reply as she went more vigorously at her task.

***

After the pair had cleaned their weapons Rhys looked around again. The neighbourhood stood as quiet now as it had before. The temperature had dropped by a few degrees. A slight gust rode the night air, which bit through Rhys’ shirt and made him clench both his jaw and tighten the muscles of his torso. “We need to find a phone,” he said. “One that we can
actually
use.”

With no streetlights the shadows seemed to spread out like an oil spill with every passing minute and ate into what little light the slim moon provided. Every window in every house sat as a black hole. If anything stirred inside Rhys and Larissa had no chance of seeing it.

Rhys looked at the window the diseased had leapt through to get at him. Glass remained in the frame as jagged shards. “I’m guessing there’s no more diseased in this house. Surely they would have jumped out of the window by now if there were. I think we should start our search here.”

Each house on the street seemed to have been built from the same plan. Each had a sloped driveway with a garage at the top. The front door sat next to the garage on every house. The only thing that marked out the one they stood in front of from the rest was the phone number painted in blood on the white garage door. Well, that and the huge splash of crimson next to it.

Rhys walked up to the front door and pushed the handle down. The door didn’t move. Of course it didn’t because that would have been too damn easy. Another look around the quiet neighbourhood and Rhys said, “I don’t like it here.”

Larissa didn’t reply, and when a strong gust of wind flew through the street she hugged herself tightly.
 

“Let’s go around the back,” Rhys said. “Hopefully they’ve left
that
door unlocked.”

An alleyway led to the back garden and a tall gate barred the way. When Rhys pressed the latch the gate didn’t budge. He reached over the top and slid a bolt free allowing the gate to open. He stepped through with Larissa close behind him.
 

Unlike the front, the back garden showed serious signs of neglect. An old fridge lay on its side in the corner by a dilapidated shed. A huge rabbit hutch took up the rest of the space. From a quick count Rhys saw at least seven furry shapes as they shifted around in the tight wooden hutch. They’d starve pretty quickly without human aid. If he let them out when he left at least they’d have a fighting chance at survival. Despite the mess of the back garden the concrete path that led to the back door remained unobscured, so Rhys headed down it.
 

As he walked Rhys held his breath. The near silence called every one of his steps out no matter how lightly he trod. When he got to the back door he bit down on his bottom lip and pushed the handle down. It creaked and Rhys’ pulse raced. When he’d pushed it all the way down he put a small amount of pressure on the door and it swung open into the house.

The stench of the diseased rushed out like heat from an oven and hit Rhys in the face. He stepped back and held his nose. “Fuck.” He looked around to see Larissa, tight-lipped and focused entirely on him. “You need to be ready for this, it fucking
stinks
in there.”

Her dark bob swayed as she nodded.

One last gasp of fresh air and Rhys stepped through the doorway.
 

Like the outside the house stood silent. Rhys’ feet tapped against the wood laminate floor when he walked down the corridor. His heart beat out of control as the darkness smothered him. A second later he heard a noise like a pig at a trough. He froze and raised a hand to halt Larissa.
 

Larissa stopped.

Rhys leaned so close to his ex-wife he could smell the slight tang of sweat on her skin. The familiar scent took him back to well before Flynn arrived when they had Sunday morning lie-ins and sex after a night out. “The kitchen,” Rhys whispered. “Whatever it is, it’s coming from the kitchen.”

After he’d raised both of his spear-like stool legs he walked toward the sound.

Larissa followed, the gentle pad of her feet in time with his own.

As they got close the snarls and growls of a diseased became clearer. It sounded like there was just one of them.

By the time he’d gotten to the kitchen door sweat coated Rhys’ palms and the spears shook in his moist grip. The snarls and growls of the diseased had grown louder, as if the creature sensed their arrival, but it hadn’t moved yet.

When Rhys poked his head around the corner both the smell and sight hit him at once and he heaved.

The diseased lay on the ground with a wheelchair toppled on its side. With half of its face torn open it stared fury at Rhys. It snapped and groaned and reached out to him, but it couldn’t move the lower half of its body.
 

When it opened its mouth and took a deep breath Rhys ran forward and drove both stool legs into its face. The wet
shunk
of both poles cut the creature’s scream off before it could release it. A look of horror had frozen on its face. Its mouth hung wide open and its black tongue lolled out.

Two moist
schlops
as Rhys pulled each spear free and he looked at the fallen wheelchair. It had a large handbag hooked over one of the handles so he stepped over the corpse and picked it up.
 

Heavier than he’d expected, Rhys lifted the bag up onto the kitchen table and tipped the contents across it. A phone spilled out amongst the assortment of make-up, a purse, a compact mirror, a novel, and a whole host of other useless items. Rhys grabbed it, pressed the button, and the screen lit up. “It’s an
older
model, Larissa.” In his excitement he’d spoken a bit too loudly.

Larissa remained by the kitchen doorway and stared at the dead woman.

Rhys dropped down next to the corpse, pushed her finger to the phone’s screen, and watched the thing unlock.
 

A notepad and pen had fallen out of the woman’s handbag, so Rhys took the leaves from his pocket, wrote down Vicky’s phone number and dialled it.
 

Larissa still hadn’t moved. She watched on with her mouth open wide and her tense shoulders lifted into her neck.

A warm beep pulsed in Rhys’ ear and he pulled the phone away from his face to look at the bright screen. “Fuck it. It’s not connecting, even though it has full service.” After he’d redialled and got the same result Rhys sighed. “It won’t connect us. She must be in a bad area. At least the networks are still working, I suppose. I’m guessing that means the world hasn’t fallen apart just yet. If we can find them and get through London before the disease catches up with us, we’ll be home free.”

Larissa looked around the kitchen before she finally spoke. “So what do we do? Wait here until she calls back?”

Before Rhys could answer her the back garden gate crashed open. His heart boomed and he crouched down below the window. When he saw Larissa had also dropped to the floor he crawled across the kitchen, poked his head out, and peered down the hallway at the back door.

Six diseased had entered the back garden. They moved much slower than he’d ever seen them walk. In single file they headed straight for the rabbit hutch.

The one at the front, a girl who couldn’t have been any older than about sixteen, tried several times before she finally beat her clumsiness and lifted the top of the hutch open.
 

She let out a slight growl as she leaned forward. When she stood up again the dark form of a rabbit twisted in her grip. The groans and grumblings of agitation rippled through the pack as she passed the rabbit to the diseased next to her.

The small animal kicked and fought as it moved all the way down the line to the creature at the back.

While the one at the front selected another rabbit Rhys watched the one at the back lift the first one to its mouth. The black furry animal continued to fight until the diseased bit into its neck. A light
pop
of what must have been the rabbit’s windpipe and the thing fell limp.
 

After the diseased had taken a bite from it, the rabbit’s insides drawing a line from its belly to the diseased’s mouth, it passed the dead creature onto another one of the group.
 

The next diseased bit a chunk from it as well.
 

Rhys jumped when Larissa spoke. He didn’t realise how close she’d gotten to him. “What the fuck are they doing, Rhys?”

Unable to take his eyes from the scene outside Rhys finally found the words. “They’re
feeding
. It’s what I thought when I saw the policewoman. It looks like they’ve learned how to survive.”

Chapter Twelve

Five Days Ago

Vicky’s pulse raced and she struggled to breathe. An invisible hand gripped her neck and squeezed as she looked up at the security cameras in the hallway before she slipped into the room. Building management gave her free reign of the Alpha Tower, except for the penthouse suite. She needed that freedom because light bulbs needed to be checked and faults needed to be addressed. If anyone stopped her she had a legitimate reason to be there, it was tenuous, but legitimate all the same.
 

She may have been away from the cameras in the staff room, but if someone came in to find her checking the staff rota she’d be fucked. Light bulbs and electrical points were fine, but confidential paperwork was a whole other issue. And it wasn’t just any staff rota, she needed to see the rota for the security guards. Sweat stood on her brow as she closed the door behind her and walked over to the shift manager’s desk.

With shaking hands and the reek of coffee heavy in the air Vicky opened the shift manager’s drawer and pulled out the red rota file. Although it worked in her favour today, it seemed ridiculous that they still had to have the rota on paper. Every other building in the city used an electronic system, but because of hackers, the Alpha Tower couldn’t risk it.

The click of footsteps sounded outside and Vicky froze. She kept a hold of the file
.
No point in trying to hide because she had nowhere to go, and the rush to put it back would make a noise that would alert the people. If they entered the room, she’d have to ‘fess up and their plan would be fucked at the first hurdle. After a dry gulp Vicky continued to watch the back of the currently closed door.
Please let them go past. Please.
 

Two pairs of heels clicked in time as they got closer to the room. Each click snapped through Vicky and wound her body tighter than the one before. As they neared the door, an urge overwhelmed Vicky to give herself over at that moment. If she walked outside now then maybe they’d go easier on her. She saw herself being caught red-handed, anything had to be better than that.

Although, what would she tell them? That the man she loved planned an act against them, against the state. Besides, she was already an accomplice and no amount of confessing would change that. A chill sank through her as if her blood had frozen. Whether she thought of herself as one or not, she would be judged as a terrorist. With a policy of zero tolerance when it came to terrorism she wouldn’t stand a fucking chance. Better to go down in flames now than with a whimper as she cowered in the shadow of some over-fed judge.

The heels
clicked
against the hard floor and Vicky remained frozen to the spot. Sweat ran down her back as she waited for the handle to drop.

But the clicks went straight past.

As she listened to the people continue down the corridor Vicky released a heavy sigh. Her hands slick with sweat she looked down at the file. She could forget all this nonsense and tell Brendan it didn’t matter, but the consequences of that could be catastrophic too, and not just for her. If she didn’t stop the virus’ creation she’d have to live with the fact that she could have stopped the death of millions. The time for debate had passed. She’d started down this road so she needed to keep going. A shake of her head and Vicky flipped the file open. She took a photo of the shift rota with her phone and sent it to Brendan.

Once the message had sent she carefully placed the file back in the drawer and walked over to the door.
 

After she’d drawn a deep breath she opened it and strode back into the hallway as if she had nothing to hide.

***

Between the hours of twelve and two you couldn’t move for people in the canteen. It presented the perfect opportunity.
 

Nausea turned knots in Vicky’s stomach as she queued with a plate of food. The greasy smell of her sausages and chips overwhelmed her and forced her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The collective chat from the diners turned into white noise in the high-ceilinged room. The heat in the canteen didn’t help either. The middle of summer, but with heavy rainfall, they’d kept the windows closed. Humidity seemed to coat everything and made it impossible to see outside. The air had thickened to the point where it became hard to breathe and the place felt like a damn rainforest.

Vicky had seen the woman next to her around, but she didn’t know her well. Good job really, considering what she had planned for her.
 

As they slid their trays toward the tills at the end of the line, Vicky looked down at the woman’s white security card. Low level, but enough for what she needed. Also, it meant the owner would be much less likely to guard it. And who cared if a basic card went missing? It happened all the time. Security could issue her a new one after the obligatory bollocking. One of the main failings with the Alpha Tower’s security was that it took a week to cancel a missing card. A glitch in the system that no one had thought to fix and not many people knew about. Artem did, which in turn meant Vicky did. The week’s grace they’d have on the card gave them plenty of time.