The Alpha Plague Read Online Free PDF Page B

met.”
    John nodded. Wilfred didn’t need to tell him that.
    “But in your quest to understand the world, you’ve lost what it means to be human. Your lack of empathy makes you a liability.”
    The glass steamed up when John pressed his face to it. “Please let me out! Don’t kill me! I can win this war.”
    Wilfred shook his head. “At what cost, John? You’ve just killed your wife! She deserved so much better than you.”
    The panic left John’s face as he stared at his colleague. “So that’s what this is?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Alice. You’re jealous that she chose me.”
    Wilfred shook his head. “Shut up. You deserve to die. You’re a murderer.”
    “That may be true,”—crow’s feet spread out from his eyes as they narrowed and he lowered the tone of his voice—”but you’re not, Wilf. You don’t kill people.”
    The statement drew a sharp knife across Wilfred’s stomach and emptied his guts on the floor. His head spun and he looked away. John was right.
    “Can you live with killing a human being, Wilfred?”
    Wilfred pulled away and leaned against the wall next to the door. He couldn’t look at John anymore.
    “Come on, Wilfred,” John said. “Please let me out. Please.”
    The security camera in Wilfred’s section looked down at him. The orders that he’d been given repeated through his mind; ‘John needs to be infected. We need to see how it spreads’.
    “No!” Wilfred shouted as if in response to his own thoughts. “No. I can’t do this. John’s right; I’m not a murderer. I can’t be a part of this!”
    The camera shifted slightly. They were watching; of course they were watching.
    “Thank you,” John said, relieved.
    “I’m not doing this for you.” A bitter taste rose into Wilfred’s mouth and he spat on the floor. “I’m doing it for me. I don’t want this on my conscience.”
    A high shrug lifted John’s scrawny shoulders. “Whatever your reason, it’s the right choice.”
    If Wilfred never had to look at John’s face again, it would be too soon; but he couldn’t kill him. He removed his keycard from his top pocket and swiped it through the reader. “Your judgment will come, John. However, it’s not up to me to make it.”
    The door didn’t open.
    John’s eyes widened. “What’s happening, Wilfred?”
    With a shaky hand, Wilfred swiped the card again. The tiny red light on the box stayed red. Repeated swipes returned the same result. “It’s not working.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It’s not working—my card, it’s not working.” Wilfred looked up at the camera and said, “We have a problem! My card isn’t working.”
    The camera stared back. The only sign of life in the cold eye was a shifting darkness behind the lens as it zoomed in.
    Every muscle in Wilfred’s body sank, and he turned to John. “I’m sorry.”
    The door behind John clicked and popped open.
    John ran at it, but he was too slow. It flew wide and knocked him backwards. Alice burst through and crashed into the opposite wall face first.
    John sat up and shuffled away. He got to his feet, but Alice was quicker. She careened into him. He screamed, and they both crashed to the floor again.
    A guttural growl.
    Jaws snapped.
    A broken windpipe.
    Blood.
    Lots of fucking blood.
    Silence.
    The raw meat didn’t seem to bother her now.

    ***

    On his third lap of the multi-storey car park, Rhys squinted against the inky gloom. As he drove, he squeezed the wheel, and his knuckles ached from his tight grip. “What’s wrong with this damn place? The sign said there’s a space up here, but I’ll be fucked if I can see it. I think they report a space when someone requests their car, but not when they’ve driven off. Do you remember when we were circling a car park the other week for nearly half an hour?”
    The previously lethargic Dave had removed his sunglasses completely and sat alert next to Rhys—or as alert as anyone could after a heavy night out. He then