Pulse: Retaliation (Anisakis Nova Book 2) (3 page)

5 – Dom

 

"I'm thinking chili macaroni and maybe fruit cocktail today," Dom said. "Fruit cocktail if we're lucky."

Chelsea laughed and scrunched up her nose. "Chili mac is my least favorite."

"You're weird. Chili mac is
everyone's
favorite."

They stood in line at the food distribution center, which was a giant warehouse hours away from their new apartment. The wait took up half the day, but since neither of them worked anymore, it didn't matter. Every day they were so grateful to be alive that nothing could bring them down.

After they escaped that lunatic Dr. Baker, Dom and Chelsea spent a few weeks camping in the mountains. As they expected, it was much harder than they thought it would be. The first days were spent in constant worry that Chelsea was infected. The rest were spent trying to make a fire, forage food, and find or make clean water.

It all frustrated Dom. It seemed like it should be easy to rub sticks together to make fire. Survivalists did it in a split second. When he was at his end, Chelsea reminded him of
Castaway
and how long it took Tom Hanks to do it. How much he suffered before he finally got it. Most of the time her patience grounded him. It had the potential to infuriate him, too. He didn't understand why she was so at ease.

He did make fire. They did survive. It got easier, but not by much.

They discussed the possibility of cities still being overrun or saved. There was no concrete reason to believe either. Eventually they decided to see what the cities were like. Once down from the mountain they found an older couple, Ron and Katherine Sillvers, who were living in a nice farmhouse and took them in. They saved them from having to go back to their meager campsite.

When the electricity and TV came back on, they learned about MAC. Dom would never forget the look on Chelsea's face when she said, "Everything's going to be okay." The vaccination had a 100% success rate when administered within the proper timeframe. Shortly after that, local news stations popped back up and cities were safe to return to.

Their apartment was burned down in a series of fires in that area. Neither of them wanted to return after what happened, making the loss less catastrophic. The government was providing housing while society rebuilt, and Dom and Chelsea shared a one bedroom apartment with three others just outside of Renton. It wasn't bad.

The only thing Dom worried about was what life would be like once things
really
resumed. When people had to start working at normal jobs again, like Starbucks and retail. Would he be able to go to school? Assuming they resumed business, would he start working at Starbucks again? What would reality be like? He wasn't sure how they could live in the world after this.

The apocalypse meant 'end of the world'. End. There was a finality to it that didn't leave room for returning to work and going back to humdrum life.

Most of the time he kept his mind clear and lived day to day. It was all anyone did.

And after all of it, God did he love Chelsea more than ever. He took in the site of her brown hair, recently cut to just below the ear. She kept it back with a red bandana. They spent hours walking around outside in the sun and it had brought out a thick brush of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was a reminder of how precious life was.

"Anyway, I would love something fresh. I can only eat this stuff for so long," she said. "Wonder when they'll get farming going again?"

“Soon, I hope. I wouldn’t mind skipping all the waiting, too.” Dom took in the scent of the warehouse. It smelled sweaty, dusty, and metallic from the shelves of cans taking up most of the space. The food was edible, but left something to be desired. When he thought about fresh corn, grilled steak, and maybe a nice cold peach, he swooned.

“Maybe if we get some freeze dried stuff, we can make something good and have a picnic?” Chelsea was an expert at turning a few ingredients from food distribution into something tasty. Last week she bartered a candy bar for a jar of mayo, then used rehydrated chicken, celery, and carrots to make chicken salad.

The line moved and they stepped forward. Dom was about to share his agreement on the picnic when a shrill beep sounded over the intercom. Conversations came to an abrupt stop, only a few agitated whispers continuing. Nervous energy built up, growing worse by the second as people listened.

"
This is not a test. There have been multiple terrorist attacks on hospitals across King County.
"

When Dom heard the announcement overhead, his body became paralyzed with fear. All the air wooshed out of his lungs and he felt heavy. Even if he wanted to, he didn't think he could move. His rations ticket slipped from his hand. Chelsea inhaled sharply. Her body swayed against his for support.

He wasn't the only one astonished. Not a soul spoke now, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the last words to be spoken.

"
Thousands are estimated to be infected with Anisakis Nova. MAC distribution centers are on high alert. Curfew has been reinstated. Do not leave your homes or living quarters unless directed to do so. Please remain calm.
"

Asking people to remain calm made them panic. It was natural human reaction, Dom was sure of it. If someone asked you to be calm, it was because the shit hit the fan. As the list of hospitals attacked was announced, people became more distressed. When one nearby was added, the world moved in slow motion as everyone tried to run for the exits.

Dom finally got himself together. He took Chelsea's hand, his instincts taking over. He led her away from the exit, avoiding the stampede, and took cover under tables bolted to the ground. They could be trampled if they tried to escape.

Even as the thought entered his mind, he watched in horror as a middle aged woman crashed to the ground ten feet from the table. The horde mowed over her. Each time she attempted to get back up she stumbled or was pushed down. Her head slammed into the ground as a larger man's boot connected with her neck, knocking her down again. She stopped moving. Her head was turned towards Dom. She blinked twice, then her eyes didn't open again. Blood gushed from a mouth of broken teeth. A giant gash on her temple pooled blood around her head.

Dom's heart raced. Everything had been so good, for so long, and in the space of a moment it all came crashing down.

 

 

6 – The Infected

Washington State: 28% Infected

 

Alanna and Dawn sipped on giant slushees from AM/PM and strolled down their usual street. It was a surprisingly hot Washington day and they dressed the part with cutoffs, bikini tops, and lace midriff baring tops that were trendy before the whole parasite thing. It showed off the neon chevron print on their bikinis.

The AM/PM hadn't offered Slurpees for a long time, making the flavor and texture heavenly. Things were going back to normal. Soon they'd be back to school, back to regular life. They heard some schools in Seattle already opened again. Maybe Bellesquare Mall would open again soon.

It seemed possible. The north Bellevue area in Washington was one of the few towns that only had minor damage from the parasite. The girls saw it on the news and thought it was sad and all, but it didn't really affect them. Alanna claimed her cousin from Seattle was infected, but Dawn thought she was doing it for attention. It was really kind of a joke at school. Everyone said they knew someone who was infected, but who was really telling the truth?

Seattle was a twenty minute drive from them, but it might as well be the moon as far as they were concerned. Even when the power went out for a while they managed. Alanna and Dawn had money and their parents bought big, loud generators that gave them power when they needed it. In their neighborhood, far away from downtown Bellevue, it was quiet.

Dawn's next door neighbor Hanna claimed their parents were shielding them from all the bad stuff happening. Alanna talked to her dad about it and he assured her everything was fine. They'd be okay. She didn't ask anything beyond that. About where the food was coming from, especially so much steak, why he carried a gun when he’d always talked about hating them. The AM/PM was an okay hangout for now, just a half mile outside of their neighborhood. It would do until they could go downtown again.

Survival, people dying, state of the country; those things just weren't important to the girls. It didn't cross their minds.

"Damn, there's a 10 up ahead," Dawn said. Her lips and tongue were tinted blue from her drink, and even her teeth as she smiled.

Alanna turned her attention down the street where a cute guy riding a longboard was headed their way. He didn't have a shirt on, showing a nice set of abs and pecs. Definitely a 10.

They walked a little sexier as he passed by, and were pleased when he gave them a double take.

"Anyway, what do you want to do today? School?" Alanna gulped down more Slurpee. "Haha, just kidding. No school, but really. The creek maybe?"

"Sure, why not? Bet a lot of peeps are down there today. So fuckin' hot out," Dawn murmured.

They circled back to the AM/PM where they'd locked their bikes up and made the fifteen minute bike trip to a creek near their high school. Sure enough, there were kids lining the banks.

Alanna and Dawn had been best friends since kindergarten and were the most popular girls in school. Maybe not preppy popular, but everyone liked them and the boys all thought they had killer bods. As they turned off the main road and biked down the trail beside the creek, everyone waved or shouted their names.

"Hey guys, come sit with us!" It was a group of moderately popular kids who commandeered the big rock near the creek. They had beers and it smelled like weed even from where the girls were.

They slowed their bikes and Dawn turned to Alanna. She gave her a slight shrug. They had a way of having whole conversations with only small gestures.

You want to?

Nah, let's keep circling.

It wouldn't be cool to settle for the first group they saw. They kept biking down the creek until they'd seen the last of the kids. They were about to turn back when they spotted another group where there was a bend in the creek.

"Oh, god. They're skinny dipping!" Alanna whispered.

"Hot," Dawn said, trying to be cool. "Wanna go check it out?"

Shrug.
If you want to.

Grin.
Okay, but we'll leave if it's lame.

They set down their bikes and started the rest of the way on foot, carefully walking around tree stumps and shrubs. As they got closer they heard splashing, laughing, and, screaming. Something felt wrong. The girls both stopped as they listened. It wasn't fun screaming, it was painful screaming. Closer now, they saw the naked people were all guys and they had weird cuts on their bodies.

Neither of them spoke as they watched. One of them had a girl in the water and was pushing her under, then pulling her back up. He was laughing. Dawn recognized her as a girl, Josie, from school.

Alanna's hand gripped Dawn's. They looked at each other, and without another word ran for their bikes. Only there was a man waiting for them. He was naked, scabbed cuts forming intricate patterns over his body. His hair was slicked back with what could only be blood. He held a long machete in one hand, and in the other the severed head of Josie's sister.

"Where are you going, pretty young thangs?" The way he said it made the girls' bodies go cold. "Wanna hang?"

Dawn backed up, dragging Alanna with her. The Slurpee in her stomach rumbled and she felt like she was going to puke. As she turned to run the other direction, she barreled into another two men. Both were cut up, naked, and grinning. The whites of their eyes were blood red.

"Dr. Baker will like these ones." The one who spoke was the smallest of the three. He looked weak. Dawn wondered if she could push past him and make a run for it.

"Ssssso would I," said another in response. He rubbed his hands close to his groin, but not quite. "He doessssn't need the young onessss."

"Yeah!" The man holding Josie's head shouted. "Why the fuck should we take orders from that dude? We do what we want."

The weak one snarled. "No. We do what Dr. Baker says. That's the rule."

"You're ssssso weak. He promisssed usss girlss like thisss." He had a difficult time speaking. It was obvious he was excited.

Alanna saw Dawn start to cry and she couldn't stop the flood either. She gripped her best friend's hand. It was the only real thing she had. These men were nightmares. Hallucinations. Maybe they did hang with that first group up the creek and were tripping.

Then the two men pounced on the weak one. They sawed at his head with a machete until there was enough give to pull it off.

The girls ran for their lives. It didn't matter. They were too afraid, too clumsy. Alanna tripped and dragged Dawn down with her. Then the men were on them, iron-like grips on their arms, in their hair. They dragged them back to the creek.

Suddenly Bellesquare, 10s, or what fashion would be like wasn't important anymore.

 

7 – Ben Moreno

 

Ben Moreno was a nice guy. He had always been a nice guy. People liked him in school and when he grew up and held down a stable job as a realtor, they liked him then, too. He was so likable he sold a lot of houses and had a nice family.

Nice. Everything was nice.

But every night when he dreamed, he dreamed of being bad. Since he was a child, as far back as he could remember, he'd been having dreams. In them, a man named Mr. Ruchipip came and told him what they would do. Throughout the dream they'd do bad things together.

He dreamed of killing people, of skewering their bodies and hanging them from the ceiling, drinking their blood and bathing in it. The dreams were so vivid, it felt like he really did them. When he woke up, he was invigorated and aroused. Sometimes it took hours to fall back asleep. If his wife was awake and felt his erection, she’d mistake it as something for her.

Ben was good at pretending he liked sex with his wife. He watched porn online a handful of times and knew what noises he should make, and how he should handle her. In reality, he was observing his performance in an out of body sort of way. He applauded how convincing he was.

If it weren't for the dreams being so real and satisfying, Ben had no doubt he would've been a real life serial killer. Mr. Ruchipip told him serial killers were the children of God who he liked best, but could never say so. That he gave a select few people the ability to experience what God’s own power was like. Ben was one of them.

Ben liked Mr. Ruchipip. As he grew older, Mr. Ruchipip became a constant reassuring presence in his life. He told him what to do so people would like him. What to say, how to act. Mr. Ruchipip was always right. Mr. Ruchipip took up residence in his mind, instead of just his dreams, and was a constant companion.

He had never told anyone about any of this. Not even when his wife had them see a marriage counselor during her midlife crisis. Part of it was to have separate therapy, which he did, and discuss personal issues. He wasn't totally clear on the laws, but he figured if he told the therapist too much she would be obligated to report him to the police.

Plus, Mr. Ruchipip told him not to.

Instead, he let the thoughts and dreams suffice. He never harmed a soul. Never hit his children or mistreated their pets. He didn't have a collection of vile images hidden on a secret flash drive. Didn't hire prostitutes and do nasty things to them.

He was nice. He was a nice guy with a nice life.

Ben thought it was a gift from the universe when Anisakis Nova infested the world. It meant he could really do the things he wanted and it would be okay. Everyone was doing things like that. Millions of people were. He could, too. But when the parasite never really took hold in Wilson, North Carolina he became depressed. When MAC started making the world safe again, he became even more depressed.

He was running out of time to fulfill his greatest desires. Any act he wished to commit would be impossible without the cover of the parasite. Since there were only a hundred reported cases of Anisakis Nova in Wilson, the likelihood of his family being killed by one was low. He would be caught. His life would be over.

Mr. Ruchipip told Ben,
now or never.
Before MAC arrived in his town and made the likelihood of infection low, he had to do it. His window of opportunity was closing and he had to act fast. Immediately after deciding he would go through with it, he killed his wife and two sons. He had to do it because he might not have another chance. Should there be any consequences, he would handle them as they came.

He tied Justine to the dining room table and impaled her with every piece of fancy silverware given to them on their wedding. He let her bleed out from the wounds, collecting the blood on a tarp underneath the table for later use. His sons were next. He hung Drew from the rafters in the garage then slit his throat while Carl watched. He then drowned Carl in his brother's blood. He butchered the family and stored them in the big freezer outside. Ben wasn't sure what he'd do with the meat quite yet—he didn't want to eat it—but it seemed like a good idea to save it for a while.

It was everything he dreamed of. The adrenaline and the peace right after. Their hot blood felt good against his bare skin. After the deeds were done, he finally felt whole. And he needed more. His control, his perfect control, became overshadowed by his primal needs.

He decided to go to Jacksonville to kill his sister and her family when he became infected. Ben stopped at a supermarket to get some necessary supplies to do the job when there was an attack. A handful of infected had intended to kill everyone in the store, but they were uncoordinated and easily distracted. Within twenty minutes the police arrived and suppressed the assault.

A splash of blood got on Ben's jacket. He made sure of it. One of the infected got into a fight with another over the hostages. He bludgeoned him to death with a can of beans. A halo of blood spread around the corpse's head and began moving towards the hostages. Everyone reeled away from it, but when no one was looking Ben let the edge of his sleeve soak up the precious liquid.

He hid it from the police as everyone was escorted from the supermarket. Back in his car, where no one was looking, he sucked every drop of blood off his coat and drove home. His sister could wait.

 

***

 

The night he was infected his body shut down. He went into a coma, and when he awoke he felt like a God. He was powerful. He felt the parasite coursing inside of him, telling him what it wanted as though it were another being living inside his own soul. He stared at himself in the mirror for a day straight. If he got into the zone enough, he could communicate with the parasite through his own eyes. The parasite was trying to speak to him, but it was in a strange
tssssk-tsk-tssk
sounding language that he didn't understand.

Mr. Ruchipip spoke a bit of it and did his best to translate, but putting sheer hours in front of the mirror was the only way to really connect.

It told him what it wanted and he would obey. Ben consulted Mr. Ruchipip on the matter; while he certainly enjoyed the feeling and power granted to him, he had to be smart. Mr. Ruchipip assured him the parasite was on their side and would help Ben do all the things he ever dreamed of. Ben was not told the grand plan, but how he fit into it and what he needed to do.

First, Ben needed to build an army, but he had to be careful. He abducted only people who wouldn't be missed, and infected them. After they were infected, some didn't see things how he did. He killed them if they didn't. Many of them saw Ben for what he was, son of the God that was the parasite, and those were the ones who he let live.

His clan lived in Ben's giant mansion, which had plenty of room for his growing numbers. He was glad he spent so much of his nice life getting money for a house like that. It was useful. There were fifty of them now, and it would soon be time to take the entire suburb. Ben planned and organized an attack.

It just so happened the day of their action was the same that an alleged terrorist attack occurred on the west coast. Ben wondered if the parasite had another person it worked through, but doubted the connection was as strong as the one he had with it.

Ben's group started with an abandoned cat food factory near his home where he knew homeless congregated. They would be easy to take, weak and disoriented. While they were taking the first group, another two men walked right up to them. The uninfected were making it so easy. A handful here and there was significant in the grand scheme of things.

It was fate. The parasite was chaos, pure and wonderful, and soon every being on earth would feel it inside of them. Ben and Mr. Ruchipip were only a conduit for its power and he would do what it willed.

As they drove a van filled with new people for his army back to the mansion, Ben felt electricity tingle on his skin. Dreams did come true.

 

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