The Alpha Plague 3 (16 page)

Brendan shouted up at Vicky, “Come here, you
bitch
.”

Flynn’s tiny hand squeezed Vicky’s and he said, “I’m
scared
. Where are we going? I want my mum and dad.”

“Vicky,” Rhys said
.
“Where are you? What’s happening?”

Adrenaline and exhaustion combined to shake Vicky’s hand so badly she dropped the walkie-talkie. Before she could grab it the thing bounced across the walkway and fell down to the road below. It hit the hard ground with a sharp
crack
and pieces of plastic exploded away from it. After she’d looked back at Brendan Vicky’s heart sank. She saw Flynn look down at it. “We’ve got to leave it, buddy. If we stop to get it then the Call of Duty zombie will catch us. Besides, there ain’t no fixing it.”

After he’d looked down at it again Flynn looked up at Vicky.
 

“If I put you on my shoulders, can you hold on?”

Flynn nodded. “Clive used to do that with me all the time.”

“Okay.” Vicky lifted the boy up and over her head. A heavy pressure on the back of her neck, she looked behind at Brendan again before she moved off over to the other side of the road at a jog.

***

It wouldn’t do any good to tell him not to look. As a boy of this new world he had to desensitise quick. Before Flynn could say anything Vicky squeezed his shins. “Bad people did this to the police.”
 

The scene seemed unchanged from when she’d been there with Rhys on their way to rescue Flynn. A burned out car and executed police officers. Nothing but corpses and carnage.
 

The dampness of urine soaked the back of Vicky’s neck and ran down through her shoulder blades. It made her entire back tense and she shuddered. The urge to throw the boy to the ground coursed through her, but she resisted. Then she saw it and her attention left her piss soaked shirt.
 

A heave lifted up inside of her when she looked at the police officer. The woman lay on the ground much like the others who’d been executed, but this woman had something different about her. A red soupy mess sat where her stomach should have been. It glistened in the fading light and Vicky saw teeth marks in her flesh where she’d had chunks taken from her. But she had a bullet wound in her forehead like the others, so whatever had done this had done it after the woman had died. It had feasted on her.

Sweat stood out on Vicky’s brow and her stomach turned again. “Keep looking straight ahead,” she called up to Flynn and felt him snap his view straight. “I need you as a lookout up there, soldier, you got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

Maybe he didn’t need to desensitise right at that moment.

They passed another couple of police officers that hadn’t been eaten. To bend down ran deep pains through Vicky’s already tired legs, but she did it anyway and retrieved a baton from each one’s belt. Only about six inches long most people wouldn’t recognise them for what they were. She snapped the first one away from her and the telescopic pole popped out to over a foot in length. She lifted it up to Flynn and said, “Here, take this, you may need to use it. I know they’re only batons, but the zombies will still fall if we whack them with them, especially the big one on our tail.”

After Flynn had taken it she snapped one open for herself.

Just before they moved off again a loud
whoosh
sounded out that turned their surroundings from night to day as Summit City lit up like the sun. A ball of heat swelled outwards and blew Vicky’s hair back. “Good job your mum and dad got out, eh?”

Flynn didn’t reply.
 

For a second or two Vicky watched the tall flames claw at the huge towers. She then moved off again. With Brendan on their tail they had to keep going.

***

About half an hour had passed and they hadn’t seen Brendan for at least twenty minutes. They’d finally arrived at the town she drove past with Rhys when they’d gone to rescue Flynn. The first house, still about fifty metres away, had a white garage door with blood sprayed up it. When she’d seen it previously with Rhys the dark stain told them the virus had gotten out and gotten ahead of them. Vicky stared at it and silence hung in the air like low-lying fog.
 

Vicky lifted Flynn from her shoulders and rolled them to relieve the deep aches she’d gained from carrying the boy. She hunched down to be at his eye level. “You need to walk now, mate. I don’t know if any of the diseased are still here or not, but I need to be ready to fight. Besides, I can’t carry you anymore. Keep your eyes peeled, solider, and if you see anything, let me know immediately, yeah?”

Flynn blinked several times before he nodded at Vicky. “Okay.”

The pair set off again and passed a sign that read ‘Welcome to Springfield’.
 

Just after they’d crossed into the town the sound of clumsy footsteps pattered against the ground and Vicky’s senses all snapped to high alert. She didn’t say a word as she pulled Flynn behind her and raised her baton ready for the onslaught. To see Flynn do the same stabbed into her heart. No six-year-old should have to fight for his life.
 

Two diseased appeared seconds later. The one at the front far outpaced the one behind. Both yelled and screamed and both wore the same masks of ultimate aggression. The one at the front was clumsy but fast. The one behind hobbled as if it carried an injury.

“Stay behind me,” Vicky said as she watched their attackers approach.
 

A deep breath and she met the first diseased with a full swing to the face. The weighty baton caught the monster in the cheek and Vicky felt the end of her weapon sink into it with a textured
crunch
. The monster’s head snapped to the side, blood sprayed away from its mouth, and it fell to the ground. Vicky glanced at the second diseased to see about ten metres separated them. It gave her time to swing for the head of the one she’d already knocked down. She felt its skull give in to her heavy blow.
 

When she stood up the second monster had caught up to her. It reached out and she had to dodge out of its way.
 

The thing changed its course and went for Flynn.
 

“
No
!” Vicky shouted and her loud call echoed through the town. She lurched at the thing and swung hard for its head before it could get to the boy. She caught its temple and the creature’s legs buckled beneath it. Like the first, Vicky made sure and buried her baton into its fragile skull.
 

Heavy pants ran through her as she stared at the two diseased and listened out for more.
 

Nothing.

The two monsters, both men aged anywhere between twenty-five and forty years old, lay executed in the wooded area at the side of the road. Dark blood, almost black like tar, ran from the wounds in the sides of their heads and pooled on the ground. Vicky hunched down next to one and slipped her hand into its pocket. She found what she was looking for on the first try. “Bingo!”

Dumbstruck, Flynn simply stared at her and shook when she lifted the car key up for him to see. She pressed the unlock button on the key and an orange glow came from a car three houses down.

“Yes,” Vicky said and ruffled Flynn’s hair. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

***

Before Vicky left she found a phone in the other man’s pocket. It had a sticker across the back of it with the phone’s number printed on it. “Must be a work phone,” she said to Flynn as she showed it to him. “Why else would someone have their number on the back?”

Flynn shrugged, clearly still too shocked to speak.
 

“What that means for us is that we can use it. Sure, we can’t make any calls from it because we can’t unlock it, but we can receive them.”

A spade lay on the front lawn of one of the houses next to a mound of earth. “Stay there,” Vicky said and jogged over to retrieve it.

After Vicky had folded up her telescopic baton and slipped it into her pocket she picked the spade up and marched back over toward Flynn. “Look away, son, you don’t want to see this.”

When Flynn closed his eyes and looked down at the ground Vicky lifted the shovel and drove it into the forearm of one of the diseased. Sparks flew up and a loud
ching
rang out from where the head of the spade ran straight through the dead creature’s arm and hit a rock beneath it. Vicky’s hands buzzed from the shock that ran up the handle.

The sound of the spade ran through Vicky’s mind for longer than it called out in the quiet street. Tense, her skin tingling as she stood alert, Vicky looked around, squinting as she studied the shadows. She hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention. Vicky then placed the spade on the ground and lifted the severed arm. Heavier than she expected it to be she walked over to the first house with Flynn by her side. When they reached the white garage door she handed Flynn the phone and said, “Read the number out to me, will ya?”

***

Once they’d finished Vicky took the phone from Flynn to check she had the number correct. She then tossed the arm aside and pulled the boy close to her. “You’ve been so brave. Your mummy and daddy will be so proud to hear how well you’ve done.” She then pulled the police car’s key from her right pocket and tossed it into a bush at the side of the garage. “No need for that now.”

Although silence surrounded them still a different sensation shimmied through Vicky’s skin now she’d gotten closer to a house. With the power in the street out the windows on every property sat dark and impenetrable. Someone, or some
thing
had to be watching them at that moment.
 

One final look up and down the road and Vicky shuddered before she finally said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

***

Once inside the car Vicky smelled the reek of rot from the diseased. Coated in blood, she wound the windows down, but it didn’t help remove the heavy stench. She reversed off the driveway so the car faced toward London. Rhys knew of her plan to go to the Highlands so she needed to stick with it. If she didn’t Flynn may never see his parents again.
 

The car’s brake lights lit up the street behind Vicky and when she looked in her rear view mirror she nearly lost her bladder.
 

Brendan, still with his limp and still with his focused look of hate, shambled up the road behind her.

Without another word so as not to traumatise Flynn any further, Vicky slipped the car into gear with a shaky hand and drove off.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Rhys’ eyes itched as he strained to see into the darkness. No matter how many times he blinked or rubbed his eyes, the pitch of night prevented any more than about five metres vision in any direction. Aches streaked up and down his tired legs and sweat stood out on his brow. A sticky film of dirt covered his entire body that pulled his shirt and trousers against his skin.

Rhys fought for breath as he ran and his tired feet slapped down against the hard road. From the sound of Larissa’s own heavy steps she seemed as exhausted as him.
 

Despite the diseased behind them Rhys slowed to a walk.
 

After she’d glanced across at him Larissa did the same.
 

Hopefully they had enough of a lead on the mob to get to Biggin Hill Airport before they caught up to them.

Summit City gave off an orange hue like a smouldering bonfire. All of the tall flames had gone, but the place looked like it still burned hotter than hell and the roads looked as if they could melt glass. The plastic reek of the city burned as strong as ever, and after a particularly deep breath Rhys tasted the chemical funk of it. Although this time the smell seemed a little different. It had an undertone of singed hair and overcooked sweet meat.

After another glance behind Rhys looked in front again. The sound of the diseased had grown louder, a thunder of clumsy footsteps, but he still couldn’t see a thing. By the time he could it would be far too late. Despite his will to run again his leaden body didn’t have it in it.
 

Larissa looked over her shoulder and stumbled. Once she’d recovered she said, “Do you think they can smell us?”

“No.”

“Oh?”

A shake of his head and Rhys elaborated. “When I was in the city, I hid from them on several occasions. If they were able to smell they would have found us at that point. They were so close it would have been almost impossible to miss us. I think they’re a hungry mob on their way south. Sure, they saw us back there and gave chase but I don’t think they know where we are. They’ll just keep moving until they find something. It seems to be what they do.”

When Larissa didn’t reply Rhys looked first at her, and then followed her line of sight.

“One mile,” she said as she looked at the sign. “One mile to Biggin Hill Airport.”
 

Silence.
 

“What if she’s not there, Rhys?”

“She
will
be. She’ll be there with Flynn. I trust her.”

“
I
don’t!”

“I know, but it’ll be fine. If you don’t trust her trust me when I say everything will work out.” Although he encouraged Larissa to have faith, an anxious pang twisted through him. So many things could go wrong in Vicky’s attempts to reunite him with his boy. She would try her hardest, but that didn’t guarantee a thing.

The conversation with Larissa had died so Rhys looked again at the burning city. A lump rose in his throat. “I miss Dave.”

The scowl lifted from Larissa’s face when she looked over at him. Genuine concern softened her eyes. “It’s shit how many people have been lost and how many more will go.”

After a heavy sigh Rhys looked up ahead into the darkness again. “Yeah. He didn’t deserve to die.” Both the grief and the constant need to move robbed his strength and he focused on his breathing again before he finally said, “No one did. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” Tears blurred his vision. “As much as he used to drive me nuts he also kept me going most days. He gave me an excuse to be angry at someone, but he never took it personally. He could see how much being away from Flynn hurt me.”