Pulse: Retaliation (Anisakis Nova Book 2) (21 page)

50 – The Infected

Washington State: 90% Infected

 

When Anisakis Nova took its toll on the country the first time and the world recovered, Jonathan Lambert took it as a sign to do something with his life. Something he'd always wanted to do.

He lost his wife and two children to it and couldn't—wouldn't—stay in their home, the scene of the crime. Each time he saw the living room he pictured his sons dismembering his wife using an electric turkey carver and a butcher knife. Even after he ripped up the carpet, the concrete underneath was stained red.

After expressing his feeling to his best friend, Todd offered Jonathan access to his yacht for a few months.

"Just get your head straight, okay, buddy? Take some time to yourself away from all this," Todd said. "And don't even try saying no."

It was Jonathan's dream to go on a couple month long ocean voyage, fishing and cruising up to Alaska from Seattle. When he imagined the crisp air and the quiet, the solitude, he didn't try saying no to Todd. He took the keys and left the very same day.

His trip was coming to an end. He enjoyed his time on the sea so much he vowed to get his own boat when he got home and live on it. He'd be truly free then.

But then something happened a mere fifty miles away from the Washington coast. The rudders in the boat started straining, then chugging, then died out. When Jon heard it he went to the edge immediately to investigate. Perhaps he'd caught in some driftwood or garbage? An animal carcass?

Beneath the water something moved. Not something,
thousands
of somethings. They were white and fast; he could barely lock on to it. Yet the mass was everywhere around his boat as far as he could see.

Jonathan went to the back of the boat and peered overboard. Blood and chunks of what looked like fish meat clouded the water behind his boat. He had caught on something.

A slapping, sucking noise drew his attention. It was coming from everywhere. A burst of adrenaline shot through his system. He ran up to the helm, but knew he had nowhere to go.

The first of the creatures crawled over the railing and into the boat. It could've been an octopus at one point, but the parasite—Jon knew nothing else could create such a monstrosity—had made it deformed. Its bulbous head was leaking tiny worms from holes all around it. Long, powerful limbs propelled itself to Jonathan. The thing moved with purpose and intelligence.

Then more came. Five more, then twenty, then so many he couldn't count. They swarmed the deck, leaving slimy trails behind.

This was the work of Anisakis Nova. Jonathan knew it deep in his core with no doubt. The monsters had the same flesh as them, the same voracious need to destroy. Yet his brain couldn't comprehend the species. It was not human. It wasn't fish. It was a monstrous hybrid that defied what he knew was possible.

Jonathan locked the cabin door and pulled the blinds. Sitting in a ball in the middle of the room, he waited for them to come. He held his breath and hoped, like he did when he was a child, if he was quiet enough the monsters wouldn't find him.

Unlike his childhood, they did. A hesitant thump against the door at first. A test. Jonathan couldn't stop his sharp intake of breath. That must've excited them. There was wild slapping as they tried to break in. Jonathan heard them on the windows and the roof.

Thud thud thudthudthud.
Glass cracked and they entered, pouring in like a wave, engulfing his body.

Their hard beaks devoured him. He screamed. The second his mouth opened, a tentacle found its way in, wrapping around his tongue and pulling.


Tttssskkk tsk tsk.

The assault paused. Jonathan rolled to his side and looked at the doorway. A slender figure stood there. It had arms and legs, but tentacles also that waved around its body. It was completely white from head to toe, its skin segmented like those of the parasite.

It met Jonathan’s gaze. It waved its hand and the monsters engulfed him again.

Jonathan's vision went white. The pain was intense, then it was nothing. He was ready to die. He was ready to see his family again.

 

51 –  Dom

 

The forest was beautiful. Ferns, pine trees, and fresh dirt as far as Dom could see. Like their initial image of their new life at The Lake, it was beautiful. Serene. He tried to focus on that instead of what he was doing. Instead of his own small betrayal against his group.

That was hard. Impossible, actually.

Dom was a hypocrite. But at least he owned it and didn't make up any excuses, though he didn't plan on telling anyone. What he told people was that he was going on a hike for a few days to spend time mourning Chelsea now that things had calmed down. What he was really doing was hiking back down the mountain to get a taste of civilization. To listen to the radio. He'd tell everyone he got lost and that's why he was gone longer than he planned. 

He also wanted to escape The Lake for a while.

The first two weeks they'd been at their new home was fraught with problems, all starting when Felix’s family left. Whatever doubts people had before were amplified when the family left. Morale was low. Living quarters were muddy and cold. People were forming alliances and ostracizing others. Food was limited and the rationing system wasn't working well. Everyone wanted more than the group could afford. They came to Dom with problems and quarrels.

It was frustrating. Dom encouraged patience and gave everything his best effort. Jim, Magnus, and Linda tried to lead by example, too. It paid off. By the middle of the third week something shifted. The group worked together to finish building the walls of their first cabin. When the work was done, a sense of pride and community ignited in everyone. There were less arguments and more cooperation. Daily chores were completed much faster, allowing more time spent on building The Lake into what they all wanted. What they imagined they’d have when they came.

But with less to deal with, Dom had more time on his hands than was good for him. The reality of the nuclear attacks against the United States ate away at him every day. Though he’d seen it coming, it was…He wanted to say heartbreaking, but that didn’t begin to describe it. The burden of knowing and not being able to talk about it was driving him insane. Though he never considered himself the most patriotic citizen, the nuclear attacks made him realize how quickly humanity was collapsing.

Ignorance was not bliss. He needed to know how bad the damage was, the casualties. If more attacks had occurred. If Seattle was totally overrun. He needed to know. Jim refused to talk about it. They were still in agreement on not telling the group.

Dom wondered if he was experiencing survivor’s guilt. While in line getting food rations, back in Seattle, he’d heard more than a few conversations about the phenomenon. Some hospitals had started to offer group counseling sessions for it. No one could come to terms with why they were alive when so many other people were dead.

To top off his own emotional struggles, there was the issue of Jamie. His intentions towards Brittney had become increasingly worrisome. He'd take the girl on walks. They began speaking less and less to the group. While nothing bad had happened yet, something was going wrong. Without evidence or Brittney outing him, Dom wasn't sure what to do. Dom worried Jamie was influencing her for the worst.

That was something he needed to deal with right when he got back. Magnus and Jessica were somewhat oblivious parents and Dom wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t see what was right in front of them. He’d talk to Brittney first. Straight to the source.

Dom tried to let any thoughts of The Lake float away. He needed to be present. As he made his way down a hill, he spotted the vehicles. They hadn’t done a great job of hiding them after they retrieved the last of the supplies weeks ago, but they appeared undisturbed.

They were coated with tree sap, pine needles, and leaves. Dom fished the keys from his pocket and turned on the moving truck. The battery was still good. He turned the radio knob slowly, scanning for anything.

Dom heard a familiar voice. His breath caught in his throat. He pulled his hand away from the dial. It was quiet, then a message began.

“This is Dr. Adam Baker. You should remember my name because I am the only person between you and death. I have control of Washington from Olympia to Shoreline and my reach grows every day. Get it into your head right now; you cannot escape me.”

Something shuffled in the background and a soft clicking noise preceded it. Baker continued.

“I am offering the same deal to everyone. If you come to Capitol Hill now and surrender yourself, I promise you life. Those with valuable skills will be treated well. Even those with none have a place. As long as you cooperate, you will live. If you make it here alive, I will save you. You come willingly, or you die. Those are your options.”

The message stopped. It restarted. Dom turned the knob, disgusted by Adam’s voice. He scanned the channels again, quickly, but found nothing on the nuclear attacks. Nothing he wanted. Each station that played anything was playing Adam’s voice.

Dom turned off the radio and the truck. He leaned back in the driver’s seat and closed his eyes. Was coming down here worth it?

At least he knew. There was no hope—at least not then—in Seattle. They’d done the right thing coming to The Lake.

He would go to his people. He would help them survive.

 

Epilogue

 

Where there is humanity, there is hope.

A year after the infected’s retaliation, the dust finally settles in the United States. There is no government. There is no military. There is only the parasite. The infected dominate the country and what is left of mankind, using the uninfected as slaves to keep cities functioning or as fodder for their own amusement. They believe the world is theirs. That they are unstoppable. All powerful.

They are wrong.

Despite the oppression, humans have not lost their will to live or fight back. Inside infected cities, their spirits thrive even though their bodies wither. The belief that outside of their captivity, is freedom, gives them something to dream of. Something to aspire to.

Outside of infected hubs, small pockets of free humans remain. Tucked away in the mountains and deserts, far from the abuse of the infected, is resistance. For most, daily survival is the only challenge. The risk of entering cities or suburbs is too high, forcing them to learn the land and fight tooth and nail to survive. For others, creating a cure and manufacturing MAC in secret is top priority.

No matter the distance between them or obstacles in their way, all people are unified to one goal: when the time is right, strike back. Cleanse the earth of infection forever.

 

 

 

 

Acknowledgements

 

Pulse 2 is my 5th novel. I can hardly believe it. When I self-published my first book in 2009, all I thought was, "This is cool. I wrote a book." I figured a handful of people might find it and read it. Would they like it? Doubtful. Maybe. Hopefully.

The rest is where you come in, my dear readers. If it wasn't for you reading my books, telling me you like them, and your support, I wouldn't be where I am today. The Undead Situation wouldn't have caught Permuted Press's eye and I wouldn't have been published. Without your encouragement, I don't think I could've kept writing through college and other stressful times in my life.

In the words of our favorite immortal shorty Tom Cruise, "You complete me."

Okay, okay. Enough of the super mushy stuff and onto the kind of mushy stuff.

To Jonathan Lambert, my go-to beta reader; thank you. When I creep up with a new book in my hands and ask for a read through, you always give me the honest truth. Everything you've worked with me on comes away a hell of a lot better than it was.

Thanks to my editor John MacLeod for magically knowing what I'm trying to say in the muck of a first draft. I'm pretty sure you're a mind reader.

A huge thank you to the Breville espresso machine who entered my life November 2013. The delicious writer juice you produce has gotten me through many a chapters.

And to all the fans I killed or turned into characters for this book; if I didn't get you this time, there's always room in the next one!

 

 

About Eloise J. Knapp

 

Knapp lives in Washington state and never complains about the rain. She went to Seattle University for graphic design and creative writing. If she isn't crafting tales of the apocalypse, Knapp enjoys hot yoga, frequenting the movie theater, and preparing for the end of the world. Other works include The Undead Situation and The Undead Haze published by Permuted Press.

 

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The Undead Situation
(Permuted Press)

The Undead Haze
(Permuted Press)

 

 

 

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