Pulse: Retaliation (Anisakis Nova Book 2) (17 page)

40 – Ben Moreno

Ben's broadcast did exactly what he wanted it to. It rallied thousands of infected he had no idea existed in Wilson. Two hours after his message went public, it was as though the town imploded. Infected ran the streets, tearing people from their cars and inside buildings, spreading the parasite with reckless abandon. Any opposition they encountered was squashed.

They'd take the entire state soon, then the East coast. The South. The Midwest, and eventually the West. They'd have the country.

Mr. Ruchipip was proud. It seemed like only yesterday Ben decided to kill his family and let his true self shine. Now he was a vessel of communication for the Parasite. He was a leader to thousands of people who were like him. He felt accepted in a way he never had in his entire life.

Granted, the chaos could be dangerous. Ben didn't leave the Den often, letting the rest of his people handle the offense. Mostly he pointed out areas that could use more work. But when he did leave, the threat of death was always present. Infected with the best intentions ended up killing each other while in the grip of bloodlust. Fires raged in neighborhoods and downtown Wilson, taking the lives of people who could’ve been infected. It was anarchy.

What surprised Ben was the number of uninfected who came out willingly. Whether they felt defeated or finally saw the truth offered by the Parasite, they came out in droves and let themselves be captured.

Regardless, things were moving along nicely. Ben still didn't know the ultimate purpose of the Mass, but it took up the entire dining room. It pushed through the high ceiling and broke into the upstairs master bedroom. They closed off those windows as well to help it grow.

It would do something eventually, Ben figured. The thing was huge and powerful. When the time was right, the Parasite would show him what it was meant for.

He’d also sent parties of his most intelligent followers to find and destroy MAC centers. The healthies made their locations public; all it took was a bit of digging and they knew where to find them. Ending all MAC distribution was high on Ben’s list of things to do. Mr. Ruchipip agreed, and said the Parasite agreed, too. A little effort would go a long way.

Ben sat in his favorite spot in the Den, his thoughts and Mr. Ruchipip his company, with the view of his garage packed with soon-to-be infected.

He smiled. Life was good.

41 – Dom

The bullet shattered and something must've nicked an artery in her stomach. She bled out. There was nothing Wayne could've done with the supplies and skills he had.

It harrowed Dom. He kept replaying every scene from the moment he saw her running to help Matt and Allie, to the second Wayne stopped trying.

Chelsea was dead. The girl he loved, who he wanted to be with forever, was gone.

It wasn't real. This wasn't supposed to happen.

They wrapped her in blankets and laid her in the moving truck. Jim said they'd bury her once they were farther away from cities, because she deserved it. Dom thought she deserved to still be alive, but that wasn't an option.

Dom rode with Jim again, partially because he couldn't stand the sight of Chelsea's blood in the truck, but also because he wanted to be closer to her. They drove an hour and a half without stopping before Jim pulled off the highway on a nameless exit. The road lead to a dirt parking area near a big creek.

Together they pulled the shovels from the truck and dug her grave. After they buried her, they laid rocks on top of it as a kind of marker. It seemed a peaceful enough place to lay her to rest, and Dom hoped nothing would disturb the body.

He'd come back here someday. He knew it, even though they planned on never coming back once they went to the mountain. And even though part of him understood it was just a body, he knew from experiences with his deceased grandparents that the occasional visit to the cemetery provided a vital sense of comfort.

Still on his knees, covered in dirt, Dom barely lifted his head when he heard Jim speak. "I only knew Chelsea for a few weeks, but in that time I came to know a kind, optimistic, and strong woman. She was the kind of person who brightened up a room and someone's attitude with just a few words. She will be missed."

Murmurs echoed through the group. Dom finally looked at them. Many were tearing up. Matt was sobbing silently, clutching Allie in his arms. They locked eyes and had an unspoken conversation.

It was my fault, I can never forgive myself.

And to him, Dom managed a weak smile.
It wasn't. We're good.

Dom stood, brushing the earth from his hands. "Thank you for the words, Jim. It's hard to believe we lost someone so soon. We're close. Be on your guard for these last few miles."

It wasn't the positive note Chelsea might've ended on, but it was what they needed to hear. The group rallied, returning to their vehicles. They waited for Wayne and Linda to clean out the truck. Dom still rode with Jim.

They drove on I90 another hour. Out there, the towns were few and far between. A cluster of houses wasn't an indicator of something nearby. An occasional car went by. Dom didn't look to see what kind of person was in it.

He fell asleep. He dreamed of a parasite-human hybrid who had tentacles for arms ripping him apart and suffocating him. It had a vicious grin that was familiar to Dom, and as he wailed in agony he realized it was Dr. Adam Baker.

Chelsea came to save him from the inky black void and the insane doctor. She was as pale as she was in the last moments of her life. Her naked body was bony, the skin stretched taut against her skeleton. She was too weak to carry him. Each time she tried to lift, a part of her cracked.

Dom told her to stop. There wasn't anywhere to run or hide. Dr. Baker would find them in the blackness no matter what. She nodded and laid down next to him, her body a mess of odd angles.

"Hey, wake up."

He jolted from the nightmare with a profound sense of emptiness and hopelessness that hit him to his core. Even as he shifted in his seat, shaking the fog of the nightmare away, it remained.

They were still on I90, stopped in the right lane. About a hundred yards away was an exit into a tiny town that seemed to have a Bavarian theme. The yellow exit sign proclaimed it to be Coburg and there was no through road. Not a person walked the streets.

"Why did we stop?"

Jim nodded. "Figured we could get some diesel and gas if it's still good. Pop and I always stopped here on the way to hunt. It's a ski town. We're about a quarter mile from the forest road. We drive that for about two miles, then have to hike eight to the lake."

Dom leaned over. The truck had a little less than a quarter tank left. They'd probably make it to their destination without it, but who knew when they'd be in need of fuel later. No one left Renton on a full tank to begin with. "Okay. We do it fast though. I don't want to stop for too long."

He jumped out of the truck and went to each car to explain the plan. Only a few people would get out to pump the gas, if there was any to be had. Otherwise everyone had to stay in their cars for their own safety.

They drove down into the city. If anyone was there, they were hiding. That was fine with Dom; the faster they could get out of there the better. Jim sat in the truck while Dom got out. Some of the others exited their cars and held their guns, keeping watch.

The pump worked. Dom set it up and walked back around to Jim. As he neared he heard static. Jim was slowly turning the radio. When he saw Dom he shrugged.

“Thought I’d partake in one last bit of civilization before we go become mountain men.”

The radio was nothing but crackle, but Dom thought he heard a fragment of words that Jim passed by. "Dial back, Jim."

He did, slowly turning the knob until the words came back. They were difficult to understand, but clear.

"...unknown casualties. Again, at approximately 8:34am Eastern Time a nuclear bomb hit New York. The president is unsure of who exactly sent it. At exactly 8:48am Eastern Time, another nuclear bomb was dropped in Baltimore. The losses are estimated to..."

Jim turned off the radio. They'd seen this coming. They knew it was a possibility months ago. Knowing it actually happened was another story.

Dom ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. “I’ll go tell them.”

“Stop.” Jim’s face was grim. “Don’t, Dom. Wait until we get to The Lake. We already had one tragedy today. I don’t think anyone can handle hearing millions more.”

Dom glanced to his side where his people stood, oblivious to the horrors occurring on the other side of the country. He wanted them to be happy. He wanted them to be strong while they rebuilt their society.

“You’re right. We won’t tell them until later.”

The pump clicked. Dom returned the nozzle and waited for everyone else to finish refueling. As they got back into their vehicles and began driving again, Dom made up his mind.

The truth wasn’t always what people needed.

42 – Pvt. David Stewart

With Mandy’s new information, Pratt had a long discussion with Otto who radioed Charlie Company. Their discovery caught everyone’s attention. Higher ups sent out a UAV and pinpointed the location of the annie base. After that, not only was Charlie Company ordered to come down, but everyone left in Delta and Echo as well. They converged at the tire store and moved out to the coordinates.

It was exactly what Mandy said it would be; there were hundreds of them. The hospital was like an anthill. Infected swarmed it, teeming around outside. Many of them had guns, others had machetes or baseball bats. A good amount of them were poppers, wobbling around with their big bellies ready to explode at a moment's notice. They saw them through windows, on rooftops.

His platoon had merged with Delta. Now his platoon and two others were positioned to take the front of the building, pushing anyone inside out the back and sides where the rest of the companies would mop up. In theory, it would work. Once the firefight started and thousands of parasites started coming for them, it would be a different story.

Even with the addition of over a hundred soldiers, thirty of them firebirds, Stewart didn't feel confident. There was something about the hospital that was otherworldly. Before, the infected were raving maniacs running around terrorizing. After the first hospital attack he began to realize how much more organized they were, and now that he saw the hospital the truth of that hit home.

The infected were striking back. They wanted the world for themselves and would stop at nothing to get it. Stewart would do anything he could to stop it, but the scope of the war was staggering.

"Go, go, go!" someone ordered, and suddenly they were going, taking cover and moving forward.

They had to take out the poppers first to get them out of the way. It was the strongest defense the infected had, and without them the soldiers would have the upper hand.

Stewart spotted one, a naked woman scrambling towards them, her head and limbs lolled back. He aimed straight at her stomach and fired. Worms exploded from her, propelled by gaseous buildup, like a firework. Around her the other poppers were bursting, bodies crumpling to the ground as thousands of worms wriggled forward.

It only took those bastards a second before they started coming for the soldiers. Stewart fired on anyone resembling a popper, then started mowing down other infected who ran towards them.

His mag ran dry and he took cover behind the skeleton of a burnt truck. There was two hundred feet between him and the worms. He loaded a fresh mag and leaned around the truck, firing.

Fuck if those worms weren't fast. He'd never seem this many before. More than the first hospital, even. The ground was covered with them, no longer cement, but moving white flesh. An ocean of them.

Stewart took down two more annies before he heard Pratt’s voice in his ear. "
Stay in formation! Cover the birds!
"

Their wedge formation was falling apart, but at Pratt’s order they reformed. Norris passed by Stewart, his face obscured by his mask. Two other Firebirds followed and the soldiers fell back to flank them and provide cover fire.

Then it was hot, the heat of their birds, and the nearby platoon’s, torching the wave of oncoming parasites. The annies rained bullets on them, most of their untrained shots going wide or pinging off cars, embedding in the Firebird's cover. The wall of flames was spectacular as they waved their wands back and forth. Black smoke rose from the flames. Parasites dissolved under the heat.

The wall reduced visibility, and Stewart's shots ended up being suppressive fire rather than targeted hits. He prayed some of them hit their targets.

Not all of the annies’ bullets missed. He saw his brothers fall and watched the wall of flames grow smaller. It was an eternity, but eventually their fuel ran out and they were dashing back to cover.

They did their job. The worms from the poppers were all but gone. A second of silence came over the annies and the soldiers as everyone assessed which side was winning.

His platoon pressed forward, bringing down annies as they ran for cover inside the hospital. They were retreating, panicked and now outnumbered. Stewart heard gunfire on the other sides of the building and hoped it was in their favor.

They were twenty feet from the hospital’s shattered sliding glass doors. Inside he spotted movement behind furniture. A nearby soldier tagged them, and everyone opened fire. Moments later they were dead.

Damn,
Stewart thought.
Didn't think we'd make it this far.

There was a plan for clearing the hospital. They'd been sent blueprints and knew the layout, giving them some small advantage. Pratt flagged his platoon right while the rest of Delta broke up to go their respective ways.

The hospital was a place straight from his nightmares. Blood and human waste littered the floors and was smeared on the walls. Someone had wrapped entrails, a perverse garland, around the door frame to ER. If he didn't have his mask on, he knew the smell would make him gag. And if the stench of infected sweat was present, it would be too much to bear.

Norris took point, Barbie had tail. Stewart stayed in the middle of Bravo while they moved into the ER, checking rooms, Alpha team following behind.

"God Almighty," he heard Gonzalez say beside him. "What the fuck are they doing here?"

Inside an exam room was something that was human once, but not anymore. It had overdeveloped muscles and worms growing out of its body, wriggling and trying to come towards the troops but rooted too firmly to do it. It was dead, it’s glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling. Limbs flopped over the edge of the bed, blood pooling into them, making them bloated and purple.

Each room revealed one horror after another until finally, the last room was empty. This created a fear in Stewart far worse than any of the others. Did it mean the monster was alive?

Four infected burst from double doors into a maternity ward, a popper in the lead. Stewart was fast, aiming and exploding the main threat. Not a second after the popper was down, Norris torched the oncoming parasites and infected. His wand puttered then went out. He'd gotten most of them, but not enough juice to finish the job.

Gonzalez released a dozen futile rounds into the remaining worms while the rest of the squad neatly took out the other infected.

Stewart was panting when it was over, staring at the ground as he waited for more worms to come and crawl up his pant leg and burrow into him.

"
Alright, mov—
"

Pratt’s order was cut short by a loud thudding coming closer to them from the maternity ward. Whatever it was, it was big and coming straight for them.

In the second before everyone opened fire on the beast, its image was burned into Stewart's eyes. It was seven feet tall and crouched to get under the door frame. Bulbous rolls of muscle and flesh creased as it bent. All of its limbs were overly muscled, like the corpse they'd seen earlier but far worse. Patches of both human and parasitic flesh covered its body.

It barreled through their gunfire and swept its giant clawed hand at Norris, sending him across the room. His body hit the wall and crumpled. Mags ran dry as they emptied everything they had, but the beast didn't care.

It plucked up Carew and slammed him to the ground, then O'Keefe. It stepped on their backs and reached down, pulling one arm each until it popped out of its socket.

"Fall back!" Pratt ordered. "Run, fucking run!"

Stewart turned and tried to run. His boot connected with a puddle of gore and he stumbled forward as he regained his footing. The hallway wasn't that long. He could make it.

Behind him a scream, not that of the monster, rattled his ears. It was Barbie. Stewart watched, frozen, as the monster pinned Barbie to the wall and rammed its blade-like fingers into his stomach over and over. Loops of entrails flopped to the tiled floor. Gonzalez was missing, but the rest of his squad was dead or dying. From within the maternity ward hall, another handful of infected approached.

Where was Newsom or Ellis? Paulinksy? Anyone in Alpha?

They were all going to die. It became very clear to Stewart what he needed to do. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

This time he did bring a grenade because he knew it might make the difference between life and death. As long as he was the one pulling the pin and throwing it, the grenade would be his best friend.

He pulled a grenade from his vest pouch and tore the pin free. With one perfect throw, he tossed it at the monster. Two seconds later it exploded, knocking Stewart onto his back.

His ears rang. The explosion was bigger and louder than it should’ve been. Something got him, despite his body armor. Shrapnel. The grenade must’ve hit an oxygen or gas line, amplifying the explosion. His side hurt like a bitch and when he brought his hand up it was coated in blood. Blood mixed with tiny worms coated his mask. Part of him knew if he had an open wound, they'd get in. The thought was distant. Immediate survival was more important.

He rolled on to his side to confirm his kill. The monster was blown in half. Tendrils of smoke rose from its body. A huge pool of blood blossomed around it. Stewart smiled through his pain; he killed it. He fucking killed it. And he did it in a way he thought vengeful enough for everyone lost in his company.

Stewart began to crawl away. If he wasn't dead yet, he'd keep trying to survive. He had a vial of MAC and two syringes in his vest. The rest of his new platoon could still be winning outside. This skirmish wasn't a reflection of the battle, just a scene in it.

"What was that? Where is my creation!" A voice came from the hallway.

Stewart heard footsteps and lots of them. He dropped to the ground and played dead, which wasn't hard since he was so close to it.

The footsteps stopped about where the monster was. "Fuck. FUCK! How did this happen? Who let it out? Did I tell someone to let it out?!"

He wanted to turn and look, see who this guy was. It sounded like he might be in a position of power. The mad scientist Mandy spoke of.

"This is weeks of tests destroyed in minutes!" the same voice said.

A deeper one interjected. "Dr. Baker, sir, we have to move. The military is closing in. If we don't go now they will capture us."

"We're fucked, Henderson. We're fuckity-fucked and you don't even care."

There was more scuffling, now a woman's voice. "Adam, I can't handle much more of this. The baby, Adam."

"The baby, of course. Yes." A long pause. "Henderson, get us out of here."

One of them stepped on the back of his right thigh as they left. He watched a man in white, a pregnant woman, and what had to be the scientist exit the room.

As far as Stewart was concerned, he'd done good. They were real fucking upset about the monster being dead. It seemed like it was hard to make one of the creatures, and Stewart hoped he’d set them back somehow.

Stewart mustered another burst of energy and continued dragging himself towards the exit. He needed a medic. He needed to administer MAC. There was a lot he needed to do.

But the exit seemed so far away. The floor felt very comfortable. He was lightheaded and his vision wasn't doing so good. He thought he heard a voice, but it could’ve been his mind slipping. A little rest, then he'd keep going. Stewart closed his eyes. Blackness. Sinking into blackness.

Just a little rest.