Michael Robertson > Quotes

“Tower and get up to the top floor. There’s a room up there with a computer in it where you can turn off the incinerator. There’s another computer that will override the lockdown system. It’s pretty simple. The hard part is getting in there. My card will get you into The Alpha Tower, but once you’re in, you’ll need a scientist’s card to get to the last room. As far as I know, they’ve all been bitten. It’s a tower full of diseased now, but if you can kill one in a lab coat, you may find a card. I think it’s suicide though, Rhys.” When Rhys looked at Flynn, the light glistened off his tear-streaked cheeks. “Can”
― Michael Robertson, The Alpha Plague

“touched her shoulder, she flinched. “I need to do this, Vicky. It’s the right thing to do. I need to do everything I can to make sure my boy has his mum.” Still no reply.  “Please?” “What if you’re not back?” “I’ll be back.” “I’m not so sure about that.” “Trust me, Vicky, I’ll be back. I promise.” The same darkness sat on her features, but something had changed.”
― Michael Robertson, The Alpha Plague

“The man who had him pinned kicked him over again and pointed down at the tire. "Stay down, you little bastard, or we'll rape your mum and skin her alive." Chris clamped his hands over Michael's ears. When Dean edged the truck forwards, Tommy's eyes jumped from his face. "Mum! Mummy! Help me, Mummy! Mum!" The engine bellowed, Tommy cried, Marie screamed, Frank roared, and Chris' pulse thumped in his ears. Locked in a maniacal fit, Dean cackled at the sky, his pointy nose and gaunt face making him look like a satanic Mr. Punch. He edged forward again. As Michael fought against Chris' restraint, he eased off a little. Should he just let him go? Were the images in his mind worse than those outside? When the truck moved forward again, the thick treads of the huge tires biting into the back of Tommy's head, he squeezed tightly once more. No mind could create anything worse than that. Chris looked away too.  Tommy's scream was so shrill Chris thought all of the glass in the cul-de-sac would crack, and he fought harder against his thrashing son to keep him restrained. When he felt like he couldn't fight the boy's will any more, he let go.  Instead of looking outside, Michael fell to the floor in a ball, scuttled beneath some blankets, and covered his ears. From beneath the sheets, Chris heard his small voice singing, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Nudging his boy, Chris waited for him to resurface and put a finger to his lips again. They couldn't afford for the looters to hear them no matter how much it took his son away from their dark reality. The sound of a beeping horn was accompanied by Dean howling and laughing, the vehicle's engine releasing a war cry under the weight of his heavy foot. The cacophony of chaos outside got louder. Frank wailed, Marie let out louder screams, the engine roared, the horn beeped, Dean laughed, and Tommy shrieked. Looking outside again, Chris kept his eyes away from Tommy. Instead, he watched George. If there was anyone who would save them, it was him.  Crunch! Crash!  The truck dropped by six inches. Tommy stopped screaming.  When Dean cut the engine, silence settled over the cul-de-sac, spreading outwards like the thick pool of blood from Tommy's crushed head. Marie's face was locked in a silent scream. Frank slumped further and shook with inaudible sobs. The men, even the weasel with the tennis racket, stood frozen. None of them looked at the dead boy.  Turning away from the murder, Chris looked down to find Michael staring back at him. What could he say to him? Tommy was his best friend. Then, starting low like a distant air-raid siren, Marie began to wail.  After rapidly increasing in volume, it turned into a sustained and brutal cry as if she was being torn in two. Chilled”
― Michael Robertson, Crash

“Fuck”
― Michael Robertson, The Alpha Plague

“Now she’d made him wait, she returned her attention to the policeman. “You seem to have a lot of questions, Officer …” She looked down at the badge on his breast and smirked. If he’d been red before, Officer Cock turned several shades deeper. “Yeah, whatever. Laugh it up, why don’t you?” Bart peered over Liz and laughed too. Liz didn’t think he could stand any straighter until he did. An even more erect Officer Cock drew in a sharp sniff. “How old are you both? Twelve?”
― Michael Robertson, The Girl in the Woods

“They dared him to dive through their neighbours’ window.” She laughed. “He was too young to know they were having sex.”
― Michael Robertson, Beyond These Walls Books 1-6 Box Set

“I know,”
― Michael Robertson, The Girl in the Woods

“The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world it didn’t exist’.”
― Michael Robertson, The Alpha Plague

“Whack-a-mole for real. Crack-a-skull.”
― Michael Robertson, The Girl in the Woods

“I wish you hadn’t followed me.”
― Michael Robertson, The Girl in the Woods

“When Spike had been little, his dad would make the people being evicted the worst kind of people he could imagine. He’d make them scarier than the diseased so Spike felt safer to have them outside the city. At times, he even came close to feeling grateful to the diseased for dealing with them on Edin’s behalf. A few moments of silence always followed the horn, those on the wall watching, waiting for the evicted to emerge. The snap of the heavy bolt on the gate cracked through the air. The diseased in the long grass lifted their heads as one. Then the first scream. A hellish and broken wail of torment, it sounded somewhere between a hiss and a shriek. The sound of the long grass rubbed against legs as the creatures took off, sprinting at the gate. Even from where he stood, Spike’s stomach clamped with the adrenaline rush. It didn’t matter how thick the barrier between them, he always felt like this would be the time they got through. The time when one of them went for the gate rather than the evicted.”
― Michael Robertson, Beyond These Walls Books 1-6 Box Set

“The name of a naive kid who’s willing to believe the propaganda and bullshit vomited from the mouths of men in power. They keep us like livestock, living in pens while we’re sold a dream that few of us achieve.”
― Michael Robertson, Retribution

“asked.”
― Michael Robertson, The Shadow Order - Books 1 - 3

“Oh, and be careful of the Tooth Fairy.”
― Michael Robertson, Teeth

“across at her. “Surely you have a plan?” “Um…” Now he felt stupid.  “Everyone has a plan for when the zombies hit.” Rhys didn’t. Fortunately, she didn’t push him on the matter.  “So why do you let your wife keep you away from your son?” “What else can I do? I have to fight it through the courts. I have to do this the right way, and to do that, I have to keep paying my crappy solicitor until they decide they have a case pulled together. Arguing with my ex will only upset Flynn. It’s the right way to do things.” “There’s no right way now.” “Huh?” More screams called out from behind them. The woman pulled her long blonde hair back, slipped a hairband from her wrist, and tied it in a ponytail. “Didn’t you just see what happened back there? This is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better. You’ve seen the movies, right?”  Fear gripped Rhys’ stomach. “It’s really going to be that bad?” “Didn’t you just see how quickly it spread? This is ground zero. Things are going to get a whole lot fucking worse.” “In that case, I’ve got to get to Flynn. I have to”
― Michael Robertson, The Alpha Plague

“The man had already halved the distance to the lake. “He’s going to make it!” As much as Spike hated the criminals when he was a kid, he now saw them as the underdog. Besides, he knew what the diseased were and he couldn’t bring himself to root for them. Not like he might have done as a younger boy. Crack! A diseased exploded from nowhere and clattered into the man’s side. Spike winced at what sounded like bones breaking on impact. Despite their withered appearance, the creatures were both fast and strong. The diseased who’d taken the man down snarled as it bit into him. Another crunch, this time from where its teeth sank into flesh and bone. The bite turned the man limp. The diseased who were running after the man just seconds before stopped as if he no longer existed. The one who’d taken him down got to its feet. Feral and with blood coating its maw, its eyes glistened a deep crimson and were spread wide on its wrinkled face. It walked away from the downed man, leaving him in the long grass. Now it had bitten him, it had done its job. No matter how many times he’d watched it, Spike couldn’t ever look away from someone who’d been taken down. They always started with a pulsing twitch. Violent in how it threw their limbs away from them. The man’s right leg went first. Then an arm. Like many before him, the disease ripped through his frame, spasming and snapping his form. Seconds later, he jumped to his feet, blood coursing from his eyes like those of his diseased brethren. No more than fifty feet between him and the water’s edge, as much as Spike knew the man to be a criminal in some way, his heart hurt for him. “He got so close.”
― Michael Robertson, Beyond These Walls Books 1-6 Box Set

“Besides, having a human on board rarely works out, regardless of the tax benefits.”
― Michael Robertson, The Black Hole

“A pretty fighter is much deadlier than an ugly one.” When”
― Michael Robertson, The Black Hole

“Cowering in the big man's shadow, Chris watched George lift the hammer high, his jaw set like he could bite through rock. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head and let go. The sting of his warm urine bit into his thighs. Be strong, Michael. Find a way out and find a way to survive. The blinding pain of the hammer connecting with the back of his head filled every crevice of the millisecond it existed in.  A millisecond was all it took. End.”
― Michael Robertson, Crash

“change doesn’t come without a revolution kick-starting it.”
― Michael Robertson, The Shadow Order - Books 1 - 8 + 120 Seconds

“The sound stopped Chris' heart. It was the tinkle of a tag swinging on a collar. It called out through the house and was accompanied by the skittering steps of two dogs running up the stairs. As if to finish off this cruel, audible narrative, two sniffing noses were pressed to the small gap beneath the airing cupboard's door. The little fuckers had found them already! Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs.  Light flooded into the cupboard. Sitting weak and helpless, Chris kept a hold of Michael and stared up at the big man who filled the doorway. It was George. Thank God. Frowning down at them, George scratched his head before closing the door. Tears rushed forwards. It had worked. It had fucking worked! Squeezing Michael's arm, Chris whispered, "I love you, Michael. So much. I love you—" The door flew open again, the second rush of light stinging Chris' sore eyes. Leaning into the tiny space, George lifted Chris to his feet, breaking the connection between father and son as Chris lost his hold on Michael's arm.  Yanking him out of the cupboard, he pushed Chris forward.”
― Michael Robertson, Crash

“Anyway, my point is the sooner you let go of focusing on the results and focus on your intention, the sooner you’ll find peace.”
― Michael Robertson, The Alpha Plague #1-8

“It reminded him of the walls keeping them safe from the creatures desperate to take chunks from them. Another reason to become a protector:”
― Michael Robertson, Beyond These Walls Books 1-6 Box Set