Pulse: Retaliation (Anisakis Nova Book 2) (13 page)

31 – Dr. Adam Baker

Adam wanted to wrap his hands around the prick's throat and squeeze until his eyes popped out of his skull so he couldn't use that maniacal gaze on anyone else ever again. He wanted to reach down his mouth and pull his tongue out of his throat and shove it back down so he couldn't speak another word of his absurd doctrine again.

Most of all, Adam wanted it all to go away.

This wasn't the plan, not at all. Dealing with the uninfected was one thing. The balance between him and them was already tipping in the healthies' favor. With their fucking flame throwing lunatics burning up his worms and his own lackeys insanity, he had a lot on his plate. Now he had to worry about this character, this man who worships Anisakis Nova as a god? Who believed it was the parasite that would control humans? It could only be the other way around.

Adam had no issue admitting some of what the man on TV said mirrored his own belief in the parasite. It was the next step in human evolution. It
was
something that would make humanity stronger. However, how he spoke made it seem like the parasite was to control them. That it was a higher being that they should submit to.

This wasn't true, of course, and was where their philosophy differed. Adam saw Anisakis Nova as the next step, but only if they could harness it and manipulate it in their favor. The parasite brought clarity to a person and helped free them from societal burdens, but for a greater purpose.

Like Adam. Adam was meant to be the leader of the new world, the heart behind the pulse of the new generation of infected. He would be the face of the infected's retaliation against the tyranny of humanity.

Where the crazy on TV went wrong was assuming that the parasite was perfect how it was. Absurd, so fucking absurd! It was beautiful, yes, but there was so much room for improvement. Adam considered the mutations he was working on, creating super strong hosts. The parasite might never achieve that on its own. It could, of course, but it might never.

And MAC. Without his efforts, the vaccination could prevent the parasite from maximizing abilities. In fact, it could eradicate it entirely! Then where would they be? The worm would be a blip in history, looked upon with the same sense of distance they now had for polio or the Spanish flu.

Anisakis Nova was not a god. It was a gift from nature, but like all gifts, it could only become great through the hands of its recipient. That man on the east coast was trouble.

And Adam wasn't being paranoid.

He watched the broadcast in the lab with Jean and a few others. Many were bobbing their heads as they watched. They were
agreeing
with what that lunatic said! The less intelligent infected, of course, would love what he was saying. They wanted to be free to rape, pillage, and torture endlessly and he offered that to them in full. Adam, meanwhile, was the authoritarian dictator. He made them do things they might not like, but work before pleasure.

At least the attacks he had planned on the freeway checkpoints were going according to plan. Hopefully those involved wouldn't mutiny before their task was complete.

Adam forced a bark of laughter after the broadcast finished and a haggard news commentator started speaking again. "What a fucking idiot! Right?"

It took Jean a moment, but eventually she responded with a noncommittal, "Sure."

Even the mother of his fucking child was questioning him. Part of Adam wanted to slap her for her insolence. Another part wouldn't dare harm her, and the conflict made Adam's blood begin to boil.

The other four present were what did him in. They used to look at Adam with respect and fear. Now they were hesitant. There was a hairline fracture in their faith in Adam and some day it would grow into a chasm.

Eventually he'd have to deal with the man, but for now he was thousands of miles away. Adam wouldn't be able to fight him or the healthies until he had an army of his own, supplemented with super hosts.

Then, of all things, one audacious infected smiled. He said, "I like the way that guy thinks."

Adam lost it. The man held a scalpel he'd been using to dissect one of the failed animal experiments. Adam snatched it from his hand and lashed out, stabbing the sharp blade into his eye. His screams were piercing. Adam pushed deeper, shoving the blade deeper until it almost disappeared into his skull, pushed until the squeals ceased.

The defector dropped to the ground with a resonating
thunk
. All eyes were on Adam as he grabbed a bone saw from the table and removed the man's head. No one would speak against him. If they did, punishment was death. As Adam felt the saw hit tile ground, he stood. One swift kick sent the head to the corner.

"Does anyone else have something to say?" He paced around Jean. "Anyone?"

She shook her head. The others followed. Suddenly Henderson pushed through the doors. His masked face turned from the bloody scene to Adam. "Is everything okay in here, Sir?"

"Actually, no." Adam stood beside Henderson, pristine white Henderson. How he'd love to shove him to the ground and rub his pretty white suit in the fresh pumping blood.

"Did you see the TV just now?"

"Yes, sir, I did outside."

Adam laughed, his lips turning into a sneer. "If a single fucking person, a
single fucking one of you
, says a word about it, you die. If I hear a word about the parasite being a god, I will crucify the person who spoke it. I am in control. Is that clear to all of you?"

Henderson's head bobbed as he nodded. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"Now, why are you here?" Adam wiped his bloody hands against his lab coat. He was drenched in it already and accomplished little to clean himself. "Speak up!"

"They just brought more uninfected in, Dr. Baker. It was a good haul."

"Oh, hmm?" Adam flicked a drop of blood on Henderson, just to see what he'd do. There was no response. "We'll see about that."

32 – Dom

It was stifling hot and humid in the truck, but they couldn't roll down the windows. A violent summer rainstorm thrashed at the cars, reducing visibility and slowing them down. During the five minutes Dom had the window cracked, the right side of his body was already drenched.

They weren't the only ones with the idea to leave. While traffic hadn't come to a complete halt, I-405 was at the level of rush hour. They moved at a snail's pace, the agony of knowing the exit to I-90 was less than a mile away making it all the worse.

He jumped at the sound of thunder, the cracks so loud sometimes they sounded like gunfire. Maybe some of them were.

Jim drove the moving truck, insisting he be the one to do it since there was some trick to shifting gears. It put Dom in a bad position; he had nothing to do and a lot of time to fixate. At first he passed the time by looking out the window. The truck was high enough for him to see down into cars. People's expressions were horrified, nervous, and panicked. Children huddled in backseats clutching stuffed animals or other comfort objects.

The worst was a man that Dom had no doubt was infected. He drove a battered red sedan and was buck naked. He wore a string of Barbie heads and what looked like real, chopped off fingers. His lips moved quickly, perhaps singing to himself. When he caught Dom staring, he looked right back at him. His eyes were blood red.

Dom asked Jim to lag behind the sedan. After he told him why, he complied. They couldn't get in a gunfight in the middle of traffic. They had to let the infected go. Still, Dom kept his hand on the shotgun hidden under a blanket between him and Jim for reassurance.

The truck fought to creep up an incline in the freeway. They were almost to the exit, although Dom was skeptical I-90 would be any better. Jim told them if the freeway was overrun, there was a longer scenic route that would take them through small cities. At least there was that.

But when they got to the crest of the hill, Dom saw what was causing the traffic. A huge military blockade. Dozens of soldiers, some manning giant guns on humvees. It reminded him of the checkpoint at the school last year. They were checking cars, only letting one through each lane at a time.

Beyond that the freeway was somewhat clear, including the ramp to I-90.

"We aren't hiding anything," Jim assured him when he caught sight of Dom's nervous fidgeting. "We'll be fine."

Dom spotted the sedan with the crazy five cars ahead of them. He wondered how the military was going to handle it, or if it would impede his group's progress. What if he told Jim to speed through and clear the way for the rest of the convoy? Would they make it?

Each car took three minutes at best, ten at worst. The sedan was in a line taking longer than most while Dom's was going by quickly.

Jim and Dom were first in the convoy. As they pulled into the checkpoint, four soldiers descended on the truck. Two had mirrors they used to look underneath, one came to Dom's side of the truck while the other stayed with Jim. They motioned to roll down the windows.

It was chaotic outside. Soldiers yelled commands at uncooperative drivers. The rainstorm was at its peak, creating inches of standing water on the highway the soldiers trudged through to get from car to car. People were honking. Nearby, a baby cried hysterically.

"What is your destination?" The soldier's voice was distant and electronic, fed through the speakers on the front of his mask.

"Issaquah," Jim answered.

"Purpose?"

"Sir, truth is we're leaving the city and not coming back." Dom was surprised by Jim's bluntness. Then again, why would they stop them for that? "Long camping trip, if you will. The six cars behind are all with us."

The soldier didn't say anything. Jim's reflection was skewed in the shiny black mirror of his visor. The two men with mirrors came back around the front and gave the all clear.

"We've gotta check the back then I'll let you through." He sounded apologetic. "Protocol. You understand."

Jim nodded. "Absolutely. Do you want me to come around back and open it up? It's padlocked."

Both Dom and the soldier offered to take the keys to open the back, but Jim waved him away and insisted he do it himself. The old man climbed out of the truck, pulling up the hood on his navy blue rain jacket. Dom watched until he disappeared from the side mirror. Jim was too independent for his own good sometimes. He also wished the soldier hadn’t indulged him and let him go open it.

He heard the grating sound of the back opening. A few moments went by and Jim returned to the front. The soldier lent him an arm for leverage as he reentered. "Thank you for checking, son. I wouldn't want it any other way."

With that he started the truck, wiggled the clutch and slowly moved through the checkpoint. He pulled off onto the shoulder once they cleared the area. "Soldier told me it was okay to wait here for the rest of them, then we'll move on."

"That's good of them," Dom said, his thoughts elsewhere. He leaned forward and peered out the window to chart his group's progress.

Magnus and his family, and Dom's roommates were in Magnus' minivan. The van passed inspection quickly as the soldiers checked underneath and peered through the windows. They pulled up behind Jim and Dom.

Chelsea, Linda, and Anthony were in Jim's pickup and were next in line. The soldiers flipped up the tarp covering the truck bed that had all the gardening equipment neatly packed away. Soon they joined the rest of the group.

The next SUV contained the Huertez family, Jeremy, and Katrina. This one took longer since they had a large trailer attached to the back carrying everyone's personal belongings as well as some construction supplies. The soldiers spent a while inspecting it, but they did pass.

Dom grew tense again. The red sedan pulled into the checkpoint next to the one his group was passing through. Tony, Beth, Laurie and her kids, and Cat's nephews Frank and Bill were in Tony's Blazer and the soldiers descended on them and the sedan.

Behind Tony should've been a green minivan containing Matt and Allie. The majority of their food was stacked in boxes in the back of the van. But they weren't there. There were two smaller cars in front of him. They'd been separated.

"That red sedan just pulled up," Dom told Jim. "The soldiers are walking to the window. He's not rolling it down. He ju—"

Too many things happened at once. The sedan's window shattered as the infected shot down the soldier. The other soldiers took cover, many of them firing at the sedan instantly. The Blazer's tires spun then it peeled out of the checkpoint, clipping one of the men in the process.

Car doors flew open and hundreds of people fled. Dom honed in on two in particular, their erratic movements, and realized they were infected. Dozens and dozens were infected. Many had guns and were firing into the crowd and soldiers.

It was an ambush of some kind. There was no other way to describe it.

The car directly in front of Matt tried pushing the car in the lead out of the way, through the check point, but something was wrong. The driver wasn't moving. It pushed harder, but only succeeded in pushing the car until it was perpendicular to it, effectively blocking the entire lane.

The Blazer pulled up directly beside Dom, obscuring his view of the scene. Tony's panic stricken face stared back at him. "What do we do? What do we do! Matt is still back there!"

But Dom didn't have to decide.

"Chelsea," Jim said. "Chelsea left her car."