The Alpha Plague 3 (5 page)

When Brendan walked over to her Vicky rubbed the top of his muscular arm. “Thank you for such a
wonderful
evening. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, and
never
a date like that.” She then leaned forward and kissed him on both cheeks. He smelled as good now as he had before the meal. She could get used to his scent. “Thank you.”

Brendan dipped her a nod. “Please let me pay for your taxi home.”

Vicky cocked an eyebrow at him.
 

“I don’t mean to come with you. I’ll be going back to mine. I just don’t want you to get the tube home tonight.”
 

“But I do it
all
the time.”
 

“Honestly,” Brendan said and whistled for a cab, “I
insist
.”

The taxi pulled up and Brendan opened the door for Vicky to get in. “So will I see you again?”
 

When someone got this close to Vicky she usually pushed them away. Relationships led to pain and she’d felt enough of that to last a lifetime. But something about the way Brendan looked at her … his sharp blue eyes and warm smile. The way he treated her … Vicky smiled back at him. “You have my number.”

Another nod and Brendan stepped back. “That I do.” He then closed the door and banged on the roof of the cab with two heavy thuds.
 

As Vicky drove away she watched the tall man stand on the edge of the pavement. Nervous excitement ran butterflies through her stomach. If she allowed herself to fall for him, it would be harder than she’d ever fallen in her life.

Chapter Five

Close to vomiting, Rhys stared at the thing and the thing stared back with its detached crimson glare. It didn’t scream like he’d expected it to. Instead, it looked to be in perpetual pain as its face twisted into a constantly shifting grimace. It obviously hadn’t seen him. Rhys swallowed but it only served to make him feel more nauseous from the tacky paste that sat at the top of his throat; he hadn’t had water in a while.
 

A quick scan of the booth and Rhys’ eyes stopped on the stool. Not a great weapon but better than nothing if he had to fight a pack of the fuckers.
 

Before the diseased came any closer a loud explosion sounded out that shook both the fogged up Perspex windows in the booth and the ground Rhys currently sat on. It came from the direction of Summit City.
 

The monster turned to look across the river, and Rhys watched the thing, desperate for it to move on.
 

Before it could turn back around and face Rhys the call of the other diseased rang out in the still evening air. The one by the booth responded with its own yell. It was the first time Rhys had been this close to one while he still remained hidden. He watched as it stumbled off to join the others.
 

A shake ran through Rhys and he released a heavy sigh. The dirty Perspex windows must have been filthy enough to hide them and save their lives; that and the handicap of what must have been poor vision through its bleeding eyes.
 

Several more explosions ran through the cold concrete ground like a line of gigantic fire crackers had gone off. “That must have been a car park.”

When Rhys looked down to see Larissa stare up at him through bloodshot eyes, he added, “It sounded like a collection of cars exploding.”

Another exhalation, so hard it puffed his cheeks out, and Rhys leaned his head against the hard wall behind him. “Thank fuck!”

***

After a minute or two Rhys sat up higher so he could see out of the booth. He could feel Larissa’s eyes on him as he watched the events outside. “They’re all gathered over by the river’s edge. All seven of the fuckers. They must like bright lights and loud noises. I think we should make our move now.”

“But there are seven
of them out there, Rhys.”
 

“Better than ten.”

“Yeah, but
seven
! We
can’t
fight our way past seven of them.”
 

Rhys filled his lungs with the booth’s stale air. It did little to calm him down and worsened the dry funky taste in his mouth. Reminiscent of the last fast food burger he’d eaten, he ran his tongue beneath his top row of teeth to try to banish the flat taste. The action proved ineffective. After a quick scan of the booth, he sighed. “We’ll have to use the stool.”

“What the fuck are we going to do with a stool? Sit on it and tell jokes to them? Are you fucking
mental
, Rhys?”

The chrome frame, although spindly, looked like it could do some damage. “It’ll have to do. Hopefully they won’t see us. Let me carry it first, and then when we’re out of the way of the diseased we can break it up and use the legs as weapons.” Larissa opened her mouth but Rhys cut her off. “You got a better idea?”

After a slight pause, Larissa shook her head and dropped her eyes to the ground.
 

“Right, let’s do this then.”

***

To stand up seemed like insanity. So vulnerable in the booth and now entirely visible, Rhys watched Larissa slowly get to her feet too. “Hurry up, will ya?”

She looked in pain from the time spent on the hard ground. “I’m going as quickly as I can.”

A glance through the fogged windows and Rhys watched the pack of diseased. “Well, it ain’t quick enough. There’s only so long those things can stare at the burning city before they get bored. I’d like to be long gone by the time that happens.”
 

When Larissa finally stood up Rhys held his breath as he pushed the booth’s door open. It yawned a gentle creak. Each pop of the dry hinges twisted Rhys’ anxiety tighter. He looked across at the diseased, but none of them seemed to notice them.
 

While he bit down on his bottom lip, Rhys pushed the door wide open in one quick movement. He let Larissa out before him. After he’d taken the stool he stepped out with her.
 

The reek of the diseased hung heavier than ever. The strong shot of rot lifted Rhys’ tongue to the roof of his mouth. With the stool in one of his hands Rhys pointed over in the direction the diseased had come from.
 

Larissa looked to where he’d pointed and back at him before she mouthed the word ‘really?’
 

Rhys nodded and led the way.

Rhys’ legs turned to jelly as they walked. In the huge open space the only cover they had sat on the road in the lone form of the abandoned police car. The diseased stood behind a small wall as they watched the city burn. Clumsy with fear, Rhys stumbled. He managed to regain his balance and snap the stool back just before it clattered against the ground. His heart beat in his neck as he looked at the diseased, who seemed oblivious to what had just happened, and then Larissa, who reflected his own panic back at him through her wide eyes and open mouth.

He looked away from her and took several breaths to calm his nerves. The smell of burned plastic rode on the back of the diseased’s vinegar rot. Rhys set off again.
 

The pair of them walked on tiptoes as they crossed the space behind the diseased. Rhys glanced down at Oscar’s axe when they passed the police car. He could pick it up, an axe would do a world of damage compared to a stupid stool, but something about it didn’t sit right. Whenever he used the weapon he’d think about the psychopath currently on the tail of Vicky and his child.

Rhys’ pulse beat so hard it upset his balance, but he pushed on.
 

Once past the police car they had nowhere else to hide. He picked up his pace and Larissa followed.

About twenty metres from the brow of the hill the diseased screamed. Their phlegmy cry snapped Rhys’ body tight and he turned to look at them.

But they hadn’t seen him. Because of the low sun Rhys had to squint across the river to see the reason for their excitement.
 

A woman, or at least it seemed like a woman, Rhys found it hard to tell from the distance that separated them, ran from the burning city. Fuck knows how she managed to avoid the flames. If she could find a boat maybe she’d get out of there.

The diseased screamed across the river at her and they became more agitated as she ran.
 

Then Rhys looked behind her and a cold chill snapped through him. A horde of about twenty of the fuckers, some of them on fire from the incineration, chased on her tail. Arms out in front of them and jaws spread wide they bellowed insane fury as they followed her.
 

A pang of regret twisted through Rhys’ chest. If he could have helped the woman, he would have, but he couldn’t do anything from the other side of the river. To react would be to give him and Larissa away, and would do fuck all to help her. When he turned to Larissa he saw her watching the chaos in Summit City. When she looked at him, he pointed at the brow of the hill. “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

***

On the other side of the hill Larissa turned to Rhys and spoke in a whisper. “Do you think she made it?”

“Probably not.”

“That’s nice!”

“Well, what do you expect? I don’t think she made it. What were the odds? She had a rugby team of diseased on her tail and looked like she didn’t have a clue where to go to get off the island.”

After a deep sigh Larissa turned to him again. “Where are
we
going?”
 

“North.”

“Very specific.”

“We’re going to head in the direction of Flynn’s school and then into central London. We need to get through the city to get to The Highlands. That was where Vicky wanted to go.”

Larissa threw her arms up in exasperation. “And you think we can trust
that,
do you? I’d stop thinking about what Vicky would do and come up with a better plan.”

When Rhys stopped dead Larissa did the same and looked at him. “Look,” he said, “if you have any
better
ideas, I’d love to hear them. If all you’re going to do is bitch and moan then keep it to yourself, yeah? I’m getting bored of listening to your whining voice. I’ve rescued you from the city now and I can’t continue to be responsible for you. You wanna go in a different direction,
fine
, you do that. Jog on, love. You wanna come with me? Then shut the fuck up.”

Before Larissa had a chance to reply Rhys set off again. Seconds later he heard the slap of her socked feet run up the road after him.

Chapter Six

About six months ago

Vicky hadn’t used an underground train for months because of the terrorist attacks. But she couldn’t live in fear of the lunatics who identified with the East’s cause. If they took her freedom away they’d won, and she wouldn’t let that happen.

The train journey had passed without incident, but the sheer weight of people on the hot summer’s evening made it hard for her to breathe as she navigated the tube station to get to the exit. With every step forward she either knocked into someone or someone knocked into her. So cramped she had to pull her elbows to her side and every surge in the throng threatened to throw her to the ground. With the reek of body odour and halitosis around her Vicky focused on the fresh air that waited for her out in the street.
 

As she pushed and shoved the sound of hundreds of people in the enclosed space sent her mind into a spin. Dizzy with panic she looked over the heads of the crowd. With the exit in sight she only had to hold it together for a few more metres at most.
But what if a bomb went off now?

By the time she’d stepped on the first step that lead out of the station her heart hammered and her throat had dried to the point where she could taste the stale air around her. Her accelerated pulse sent her head into a spin and her legs shook like they could give way beneath her at any moment. Nausea turned over in her stomach.

Once at the top of the stairs she fell out into the cooler evening air and filled her lungs. A shake still ran through her and she had to wipe her sweaty palms against her jeans, but she’d made it.
 

The fear had been with her since the day she’d narrowly avoided death about a year ago. Maybe it would never vanish. Therapy, self-help books, and advice from friends didn’t help to still the panic that flapped in her chest like a trapped bird.
Face the fear and do it anyway. Like fuck!
She faced the fear and the next day she had to face the fear all over again. No more diluted from repetition she faced it again and again and again.
 

Another deep breath and she exhaled hard as if to force the anxiety from her body. Brendan didn’t need a stressed out fiancée at this meal. But she’d had a rough day and the journey hadn’t helped one bit. She focused on her feet to try and ground her panic.
 

When she looked through the crowd she saw Brendan by the door to the restaurant. They ate there every Wednesday. ‘Grandma Day’ they called it. Not one for traditions usually even Vicky felt the importance of Grandma Day. Without a Wednesday meal with Grandma, Brendan had been lost. What better way to celebrate one of the most important women in his life than to eat a meal out with
the
most important woman in his life, his words, not Vicky’s.
 

Vicky stood on tiptoes and waved when Brendan looked over. She then checked the street for cars and crossed the road.
 

Brendan held the door open for her like he always did and they entered the restaurant together.
 

As always the table in the corner had their silver ‘reserved’ sign on it. No matter how busy The Jade Garden got Vicky and Brendan always had the same table reserved for them on a Wednesday night.
 

Vicky made eye contact with the waitress Sandy, a name she’d chosen to save the customers embarrassment when they couldn’t pronounce her native Chinese name, who nodded at her. Vicky walked over to her table with Brendan behind her, the air in the busy restaurant alive with chattering voices and the chink of cutlery against porcelain plates. In spite of all the terrorist activity The Jade Garden never suffered for business. It helped that they flew The Union Jack out the front of their restaurant and were always the first to speak out against any acts of violence aimed at the West.