The Alpha Plague 2 (9 page)

When he wheeled the bike pedal back slowly, Rhys tensed up at each click the cog made. Any disturbance to the delicate balance could give his intentions away and trigger the inevitable rush forward. He placed his foot on the now raised pedal and continued to stare. His tired eyes stung from his refusal to blink.
 

Suddenly a
whoosh
and a loud
wheee
sounded out and Rhys’ heart leapt into his throat. Yellow sparks flew toward him and the firework scored a direct hit into the back of one of the diseased. It caught in its clothes, and the thing spun around as the projectile fizzed and kicked out smoke and sparks.

Rhys winced in anticipation of the loud—

Bang!

The sound echoed off every wall in the alcove entranceway. Rhys’ ears rang and his head spun.
 

Rhys shook the dizziness off and refocused. Fire chewed into the clothes of the diseased who still had a part of the firework attached to it, and the others backed away, causing a gap to open up in their ranks.
 

Rhys rode straight at the space.

A hand caught his shoulder on his way through. The contact wobbled him, but he kept his balance. Another rocket shot past him. It flew so close to the side of his head it blew his hair back. It crashed into the shutters at the front of Building Seventy-two. The diseased screamed before it exploded with another loud bang.

Rhys headed straight for Oscar, and then shot past him. Oscar turned his bike to follow him. The diseased may have been fast, but they wouldn’t be able to catch the pair.
 

The road seemed clear. Several alleyways on Rhys and Oscar’s left led to Dave’s building, each of them as unoccupied as the next. Rhys had to choose one so he turned down the next he came to. He didn’t need to look behind to realise Oscar had caught up with him. The close sound of the big man’s heavy breaths and the ticking of his bike in motion told Rhys everything he needed to know—despite a bad leg, Oscar fucking owned him.

With no diseased in front of him and the end of the alleyway in sight, Rhys glanced behind. The diseased Oscar had fired at had only just entered the alley with their usual clumsiness. They crashed into the walls as they ran.

The alleyway opened up into another wide road. The low sun blinded Rhys as he turned toward Building Twenty-one.
 

Another glance behind and Rhys saw Oscar shoot out of the alley a second later.

When Rhys turned back around to look in front, everything shifted into slow motion. He saw it a second before it happened but had no control to change the sequence of events. First, the front tyre of his bike hit one of the large metal poles in the middle of the road. It felt like everything sank into it on impact, as if the bike buckled the second it made contact. The back of the bike lifted from the ground and propelled Rhys forward. His arms windmilled as he sailed through the air. He put his hands out in front of him and hit the concrete hard. A jolt ran up him that kicked a sharp pain through both shoulder blades and across his back.
 

The clatter of his baseball bat bounced away from him, and Rhys slid along on his front.

He looked up in time to see Oscar shoot past. Numb from the collision, Rhys jumped to his feet. The pain would come, but only once the adrenaline had died down. He looked first at Oscar’s back, and then at the alleyway they’d just exited. Screams shot out of it into the street.
 

A violent flutter took a hold of Rhys’ heart as he stood there and looked at his bike. The impact had bent the front wheel to an almost right angle. He pulled his hair away from his eyes as he exhaled hard and the screams grew louder.

Chapter Fourteen

Paralysed with fear, Rhys stood and stared at his bike. His brain said ‘run’, but his legs hadn’t got the message. The numb ache of future pain twisted from the base of his spine to the top of his neck. At present, it thrummed as a dull throb, but it would hurt… Boy, would it hurt.

The thunder of clumsy feet hammered up the alleyway. Their phlegmy breaths called out amidst the several that screamed. Rhys remained rooted to the spot.

Then Oscar shot back past him toward the alley. “Oscar?”

The big man threw his bike from side to side from the effort of cycling and shouted over his shoulder, “
Run
, you fucking fool! I’ll distract them.”

Rhys sprung to life, retrieved his baseball bat, and turned to see the first of the diseased emerge from the alley as Oscar rode past it. They gave chase; they never even looked Rhys’ way. Guilt weighed heavy on Rhys’ heart. Maybe he’d got Oscar all wrong. Not only had he just saved his life, but he’d done it in spite of the fact that Rhys as good as left him for dead at the bike shop. He’d been such a dick to do that.

With the closest alley just metres away, Rhys darted down it before any of the diseased saw him.

***

The Alpha Tower stood prominent on the horizon as the only tower in the city without shutters around it. However, before he went there, Rhys had to see Dave. Like Larissa, Dave needed to know exactly what to do when the shutters lifted.
 

No doubt, Oscar would head to The Alpha Tower; Rhys could meet him there afterwards.
 

The only difference between the pedestrianized areas and the roads were the lack of poles that protruded from the ground. Just as wide and straight, they could be driven down quite easily if they didn’t all lead to a dead-end. They could only be accessed via alleyways.

The noise of the diseased ran a perpetual murmur in the background, a constant groan of discomfort and dissatisfaction. It came from every angle, almost as if the buildings were infected too. It ran so rife it had become a part of the fabric of the city. Rhys could deal with the sounds in the background.
Long may they remain there.
 

As if on cue, the rasp of a diseased shot across the otherwise abandoned area. Although he couldn’t yet see the monster, by the sound of its phlegmy death rattle, he had seconds to get the fuck out of the way.

With the closest tower just metres away, Rhys ducked into the recessed entrance and lifted his bat. His pulse kicked to the point where it unsettled his breath and his head spun. A mixture of exhaustion, dull pain, and adrenaline made him tremble where he stood.
 

The scrape of the creature’s clumsy feet drew closer and Rhys pressed his back into the steel shutter in the tower’s entranceway. Despite the lowered temperature outside, the hot metal retained the day’s heat.
 

The sound of the diseased got louder and Rhys watched the space he expected it to fill.

Then two of them appeared. They walked down the middle of the pedestrianized area, their uncoordinated shuffle a stumble away from sending them sprawling. Their docile state stood in stark contrast to the fury-driven monsters on the tail of a scent.
 

The smell of the diseased wafted Rhys’ way, so rich it made his eyes water. He fought back his retch.
 

He continued to shake as he watched them pass. It was a man and a woman, not that gender mattered to them anymore. The bite mark in the man’s cheek ran so deep that Rhys saw a white flash of bone beneath it. He couldn’t see how the woman had turned. Maybe a hideous gash ran down the other side of her face, or a huge tear in her flesh that revealed most of her skull beneath.

They could have looked over and seen Rhys at any moment, but they didn’t. Listless and damaged, they shuffled along without a glance his way, their focus ahead of them and jaws hung loose.

When they left Rhys’ sight, he released a heavy sigh.
 

Then he waited to give them time to move on before he stepped out into the street again.

***

After a few minutes, Rhys checked Flynn’s Superman watch. Twenty minutes since he’d last looked; in less than three hours the accursed island, and everything on it, would be burned to a crisp.
 

Rhys wriggled the walkie-talkie free from his trouser pocket and turned it over to inspect it. It seemed to have survived the crash intact. After a quick check that the volume remained low, Rhys flicked it on to call Vicky.
 

She answered almost instantly. “Hello?”

“Hi, how are things?”

“We’re all good. You?”

A deep breath and Rhys said, “I’m hanging on. I’ve met a person who also wants to rescue somebody, so we’ve teamed up. We’re keeping each other alive, although there’s something I don’t trust about him.”

“Oh?”

“He knew your name.”

Vicky’s reply snapped back. “My name?”

“Yeah. I’m sure I didn’t tell it to him, but he knew it all the same.”

The sharpness left her tone. “W… what’s his name?”

“Oscar. At least that’s what he told me it is. The fella’s handy in a fight though. He’s saved my arse on more than one occasion already. I’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for him.”

Silence.
 

“Vicky?”

“Yeah… sorry; I’m worried about you, Rhys.”
 

“Don’t be; I’m fine. Can I talk to Flynn?”

The small voice of his son came out of the speaker. “Hi, Dad.”

Rhys’ eyes burned with tears and he started to tremble. He cleared the lump from his throat. “Are you okay, mate?”

“I’m fine. When are you coming back? Have you found Mummy?”

“I won’t be long now. I’ve spoken to Mummy and she’s going to be coming out of the city with me. Just hang on there, yeah?”

“Okay, Dad.”

“I love you, mate.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

By the time Vicky came back on, tears ran down Rhys’ cheeks.
 

“Just be careful, yeah?” she said. She still sounded distant; knowing that Oscar used her name had clearly unsettled her. Before Rhys could say anything, she said, “I’ll see you before nine.”

Rhys nodded for a few seconds before he cleared his throat again. It did little to take the warble from his voice. “See you then.” He flicked the walkie-talkie off and took a deep breath.
 

Rhys then poked his head out and saw the place looked clear. A couple of cautious steps later gave him a better view of the pedestrianized area; the diseased had gone for now.

Before anything else could come, he crossed the street. With the slightest twist at the base of his back, he ran awkwardly like a lizard over hot sand, before he disappeared down yet another alleyway.
 

Prior to the lockdown, the city had been so light Rhys never noticed the tightness of the walkways. Now the reflective windows had been covered, half the city became a shadowy maze.

The constant moan of torment that rode on the back of the breeze didn’t help the mood either. Summit City had turned from a shining bastion of commerce into a gloomy, hellish, labyrinthine nightmare.
 

When Rhys came to the end of the next alley, he poked his head out and saw Dave’s tower. His heart sank. Thick clouds of black smoke squeezed through the armoured shell and rose into the sky like an ominous flare. Instead of asking for help and attention, it seemed to mark the building as a place that had been lost.

Chapter Fifteen

When Rhys got to within ten metres of Dave’s tower, the smoke hung so thick in the air that every inhalation stimulated a rasping cough. Each deep bark not only called out to any diseased in the area, but also threw stars across his vision and made his head spin.

Anyone other than Dave, and Rhys would have written them off as dead; everyone in the tower had surely been killed by now. With The Alpha Tower so close and time running out, he would have made a beeline straight for that but he owed it to his best mate. He couldn’t write him off before he’d checked to be certain.
 

Rhys pulled his hand inside his shirtsleeve and clamped it across his mouth. The thick fabric did little to filter the smoke and he found it nearly impossible to breathe through. He freed his hand and used that to breathe through instead. God knows if it helped or not.

No matter how many times Rhys blinked, the thick smoke burned his eyes, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
 

He only found the shutter at the front when he crashed into it. It felt warm to touch. With so much smoke around the building, it must have been the fire rather than the sun that heated it.
 

Like on Building Seventy-two, it had the same gap between the sheets of steel. Smoke poured through the gap.
 

Rhys looked around and saw nothing. Even if his eyes had remained clear, the dense and noxious cloud would have prevented him seeing any farther than a few feet.
 

The crackle and roar of the fire inside the building drowned out everything else; even the call of the diseased.
 

After a deep breath, Rhys pushed his face into the gap. The glass had already been smashed and the smoke burned his eyes worse than before. It felt like he’d poured detergent into them.

Rhys pulled away, rested his hands on his knees, and coughed to the point where he heaved.

Several gulps cleared the taste of plastic, and after pulling in another breath, he pushed his face into the gap again. He spoke on the exhale. “Hello,” and then turned away so he could press his ear to the gap and breathe more freely.

No one answered.
Of course they didn’t fucking answer. Everyone had died in there.
 

One more try for Dave’s sake.
 

Another deep breath, several body-flipping coughs, and he called again, “Hello! Is there anyone there?”

A pair of bloodshot eyes appeared at the gap and Rhys jumped back. Wild and streaked with tears, they almost looked like they had the disease—almost. They weren’t coated with a film of blood.
 

“Help us,” the man said as the eyes widened. “There’s not many of us left in here. The smoke and fire has killed so many already.” A deep wheeze and he coughed. His voice faded. “Please, help us.”

Rhys strained his ears and heard the sobs and cries of a handful of people behind the man. “Is Dave Martin still in there?”