Free The Alpha Plague 3 by Michael Robertson Page A

Vicky’s hand when they stepped out of Caffeine . The design had been the brainchild of a Swedish scientist and had made him a millionaire over night. It managed to keep the outside of the cup cool while the coffee inside stayed hot. It had revolutionised coffee drinking.
    After he’d glanced around them Brendan grabbed Vicky’s hand and pulled her over to one of the stone benches in the square. It faced both the Alpha Tower and the only water fountain in the area.  
    Vicky looked across at her lover. “What’s up? You seem distracted.”
    A sip of his coffee and Brendan looked around them again with a deep frown. “Since you’ve told me about the, you know, virus in the tower.”
    Vicky’s heart raced and she looked around too. If someone heard that … “Please don’t mention it so explicitly again.”
    After he dipped a subtle nod Brendan continued. “I’ve been trying to find a way to make your problem go away for you and I think I’ve found one.”
    “That’s impossible , there’s nothing we can do about it.”
    “Actually, I think there is. I know some people that could jeopardise it and put the experiments back by years, if not forever.”
    Vicky had never seen Brendan like this. The man always had a serious side, but he had something almost cold about him today.  
    “What kind of people do you know? And what if it goes wrong?”
    “These people don’t get shit wrong. Trust me. Do you want me to help?”
    With the sweet yet bitter taste of gingerbread latte in her mouth Vicky’s throat dried and the first rush of caffeine pulled her stomach tight. She looked into Brendan’s icy stare and shook where she sat. After another hit of the hot liquid she drew a deep breath. When she looked back at Brendan his eyes had softened a little.  
    “It’s cool either way,” he said.  
    Many innocent people could die when the virus got out. And that was the thing. The virus would get out. Vicky nodded. “Yes please Brendan, I want you to help.”

Chapter Eleven

    The crack of the mobile phone as it hit the ground echoed through Rhys’ head long after the sound of it had died. He stared down at the broken device on the driveway. What an idiot ! He held his breath when he looked up and scanned the dark neighbourhood. The shadows could have contained anything, but what he could see seemed clear. Were it not for Larissa’s quick breaths as she recovered from her fight then the street would have been silent.  
    He felt Larissa’s glare burn into the side of his face, and when he finally looked at her he shrugged. “Okay, so that wasn’t one of my brightest ideas.”
    Larissa looked around as if to make a point. “You reckon ? Why don’t you start your own one man band to see if you can get any more of the diseased to come out of their houses?”
    Even when she had a valid point she delivered it in a way that made Rhys want to punch her in the face. With his fists balled he took a calming breath. It did little to satiate his desire for violence.  
    After a few seconds he bent down and pulled the trousers off one of the fallen diseased.
    “What the fuck are you doing now?” Larissa said.  
    Rhys didn’t reply. Instead, he wrapped the trousers around one of his metal stool legs, both of which protruded from the two diseased he’d killed like flag poles. Both had been driven through each creature’s heads so the entire shaft had turned slick with blood and black slime. Rhys wiped the first one clean. “There’s no way I’m holding these poles with all this gunk on them.”  
    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