Symbiote; The True Story of the Zombie Apocalypse Part 2

Symbiote;

The True Story of the Zombie Apocalypse Part 2

By Doug Ward Edited by J.D. Reed

Copyright 2013 Doug Ward

Smashwords Edition

Introduction

This is the continuing story of an unlikely group of survivors in the Zombie Apocalypse. Their story follows their attempt to find the person responsible for the disaster and to create a way to liberate the world of the parasitic contagion. Sorry guys, no fire trucks in this one.

This is the second book in the True Story of the Zombie Apocalypse series.  Although you could certainly read this as a standalone novel, it would be much better if you read Parasite first.  Please consider doing this.  I refer back to the first book often.  My book Saving Jebediah is not a necessary read for this series.  It was written as fan fiction for a wonderful author, Mark Tufo.  I tied it into the first and third book, but it isn’t necessary for the series.

Many people tried to understand what made the dead walk. It seemed few had any true science behind their unfounded theories.  The radio was full of these people extolling one supposed scientific cause after another.  Radiation from outer space, pollutants, cell phones, it seemed they explored every possible influence to some extent.  But no one looked at evolution.

I don’t mean our evolution.  Our lifespan is too long for us to observe this theory in living humans.  Although we understand natural selection from the fossil records, the easiest way to see evolution is through bacteria.  Their short lifespan allows a clear view of how a life form can adapt to meet the demands of a changing environment.

Darwin’s theory is what would lead to our modern world’s destruction.  It would crush our cities, and render most technology useless.

This is the story of how it happened, how I saw and uncovered the true cause of the zombie apocalypse.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Other Fine Books by Doug Ward;

Ward's Laws

Ward's Laws Part 2

Ward's Laws Part 3

Ward's Laws Part 4

Saving Jebediah; Another True Story from the Zombie Apocalypse

Parasite; The True Story of the Zombie Apocalypse Part 2

Creator; The True Story of the Zombie Apocalypse Part 3

Predator; The True Story of the Zombie Apocalypse Part 4

Lich

Horde

Demons

Shadows

Just One Last Dungeon

Acknowledgements

Thank you to all of my friends and family who stood behind me and pushed me forward. You guys are the best. Thanks to Scott Lee and Luke Whiteman for helping me work out some of the bugs (pun intended.) Special thanks to my awesome editor, J.D. Reed. I would like to give a very big, special thanks to my wife, April.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Free Sample of the Next Book

Chapter 1

Henry

I sat beside the water’s edge, thinking of Mel. It was all so unfair. I pulled her from the roof and now she was gone. We spent such little time after the dead took over the world. Our relationship had bloomed again, and now she was gone; taken from me by this cruel world, this world of the dead.

Waves washed the shore, leaving small pools behind. I could see tiny life forms scurry about, trapped in these small, watery satellites. Wave upon wave washed up, giving brief windows of opportunity for the captive creatures to escape. I watched as some propelled themselves out, freeing themselves as the moment allowed. Other tiny creatures, for whatever reason, remained behind. They were content in their diminutive surroundings.

I wondered at how much like humans they seemed; languishing in the familiar, simply unwilling or unable to leap at an opportunity when it presents itself. Melissa, and others I knew, died trying for the only opportunity that presented itself; survival.

Many people were unable to accept this new world. My friends and I weren’t those types of people. We had survived this parasitic invasion, dooming ourselves to a life of fear, constantly on the run. Living on a planet where nearly all technology was now rendered useless, we were thrown back into the dark ages.

The only thing that kept us going was the need to live; to discover a way to rid ourselves of the undead population and begin the rebuilding process.

It’s funny. In the natural world, the need to procreate and spread future generations of one’s species is the sole driving force of life. To spread offspring bearing one’s genetic code is the primary need, which gives purpose to every organism in our world.

The human species was in trouble. Through some madman’s manipulation of a parasite, we were on the brink of extinction. Man’s intelligence was the mechanism of our demise. The parasite didn’t naturally evolve into this form. It hadn’t randomly become an organism that animated the dead to spread its young through a bite. One of us created it; a human, and a very sick one at that.

The woman in the CDC lab explained to me that they received classified documents leading to a place near our present location, a site where a renowned biologist was conducting bizarre experiments. This place and person were what I needed to find.

I needed to track this pandemic to its origins, to possibly find this person and find a way to undo what he had done.

His name was Dr. Spaulding Fleming. He’s the person we were searching for. His lab would, hopefully, hold the answers to what we were looking for. The paper suggested that he was operating somewhere in the area we now occupied.

I heard the sound of a hummer pulling down the gravel road. Loose stones pinged off the wheel wells as the vehicle neared the cottage. Hefting my twelve-gauge shotgun, I checked my revolver in its holster and went to greet them.

The cottage was near the shore of Lake Erie. Set back enough to be safe from high water, it was also situated next to a trout stream. We had been supplementing our meals with fish for some time now.

I knew about this cottage because Mel and I looked into buying it a while back. We hadn’t purchased it due to it being on a land lease. We’d heard stories about people losing their homes when the lease was terminated. The cottage was roomy enough for us all to stay in comfort but small enough for us to defend if the need arose.

These cottages were seasonal, which means the water is shut off in the off-season, keeping the owners away. Although the season had just begun, I didn’t feel like we were going to get many visitors in the near future (at least not the living kind). We saw a helicopter in the distance a few times, although I don’t think it saw us.

Having the great lake at our doorstep meant we also had a new form of transportation. We could travel by boat. We hadn’t tried it yet, but we took the initiative to secure a newer fishing boat to facilitate scouting missions as well as a possible escape route.

As I approached the Humvee, I noticed a few more blood spatters on the side. I told you to wash and wax it! I joked as Dean and Ben exited the military vehicle.

Sure ya did, Dean replied sarcastically while turning to empty the contents of their scavenging. You want it to look nice while you’re driving your date to the prom, right?

I watched as boxes of canned and dry goods were stacked beside the fender. My former neighbor tore open a box and tossed a small Mylar-wrapped package to me. Catching it, I looked at my prize in disgust.

A Twinkie? I gasped. If I eat any more of this crap...

Dean laughed, Hey. At least, they’re food.

And they’ll never go bad, added Ben.

That’s just an urban legend, I explained while unconsciously tearing the package open and taking a large bite. Between mouthfuls, I said, They’re made of unstabilized dairy products. My guess is they might last a month, but could still be edible for some time afterward.

Ben, having crossed to the other side of the car, snatched the box from Dean’s hands and pulled one of the snacks free. With a look of desperation, he tore into the treat moments after freeing it from its wrappings.

Better eat ‘em while we can, he said between cake-coated teeth, immediately pulling another from the box.

Did you see anything interesting? I asked Dean Walker.

Watching Ben shove most of a Twinkie into his maw, he absently said, Nothing. At least, not as interesting as this.

How about any undead? I inquired, in an attempt to draw his attention from Ben’s feeding frenzy.

Zombies? Oh, we had to take care of two at the CVS. I hit a couple more on the way back here. Five, I guess.

That’s not bad! I replied. I knew we’d be somewhat isolated out here.

The cabin was located just north of Fairview, Pennsylvania. From our observations, the undead creatures weren’t particularly fond of water. They would shuffle up to the water’s edge, but they didn’t seem to want to walk into it. Maybe it was the currents? The Walkers, as Dean ironically called them, had enough trouble navigating dry, even land. Any waves in the water would most certainly cause them to pitch over and be caught adrift. This would minimize the potential of spreading their larvae to new hosts. They might have been unwilling to risk this outcome in favor of a dry land approach to propagating their species.

The evening was winding down, the sun slipping closer to the horizon. Dean and I stood out near the water while Ben retired to the cabin to try to sleep off his sugary binge.

I hope everything’s ok! he voiced, a look of concern on his darkening features.

Me too, I agreed. It’s getting late.

As our surroundings became darker, we moved inside. Ben expressed similar feelings over and over as we sat in the candle-lit building and waited.

Chapter 2

Drew

The day hadn’t been too fruitful. We had headed out west from the cabin toward Conneaut, Ohio, but had a little bit of a problem near a place called Lake City. Five or six deer leaped to the road in front of us. Amber screamed, and I almost put us into a drainage ditch. When we got out to investigate, three rabbits, an adult, and two young ones followed the deer toward the other side of the pavement.

I don’t like this, called Frank, still seated in the back seat. We should get out of here.

Amber, I said as I watched a groundhog hurry across the road. I think Frank’s right!

That’s when the first zombie emerged from the undergrowth. He was a big one, easily three hundred pounds and about six and a half feet tall. His plaid flannel shirt and jeans were stained black with gore and other unknown substances.

Two more averaged-sized creatures followed in his wake; one missing an arm from the elbow down, the other just plain hideous.

Shoot ‘em! Amber yelled, her shotgun barking twice before I could bring my gun to bear.

She caught the big one on the shoulder, the powerful blast taking a good-sized hunk of flesh, but the zombie didn’t even slow down. The other shot missed completely.

Hastily aiming my 9mm, I fired a wild first shot, merely grazing the huge monster on his right cheek. Before I could fire again, he was on me. I stood, trying to push the behemoth away as I heard more shots ring out from my girlfriend’s position and also from the Humvee.

The giant was slow but strong, and relentless as he tried to sink his teeth into my flesh. Blood flew wildly from his wounds as he fought for a bite. It spattered my clothes and face as we wrestled for position.

His clothes crunched as I gripped them, the dried gore giving way under the pressure of my hands. I was losing ground quickly as my heels hit the edge of the road’s berm. The gravelly surface caused me to slide, pitching me backward as the behemoth fell with me.

A loud boom sounded to my right, and all went black, my ears ringing from the close proximity of the loud explosion. In a panic, I squirmed under the pressure of my assailant’s large bulk, waiting to feel his teeth find their mark. Then, I realized he was all dead weight.

It seemed like an eternity before my friends pulled the still corpse from on top of me. My clothes were soaked with his dark, foul blood. A salty taste filled my mouth and I spit a huge gob onto the road. As I followed it to the ground, I dropped to my knees, putting my face inches from the phlegm. There was no mistaking it. My spit was red with the creature’s blood.

Amber, unnoticed by me, had also come down and was examining it closely. She roughly jerked my face around, pulling my lips away from my face in search of a wound. There was nothing. The zombie’s blood that had sprayed on my face was what had been in my mouth.

I tore out of her grasp and crawled into the weeds, heaving uncontrollably. I emptied my gut, hacking out long strands of stomach lining. My eyes watered fiercely with the effort.

As I regained my composure, I could hear Amber crying loudly behind me. I felt like a man on death row. I returned to my girlfriend, the first one I’ve ever had, and took her in my arms. She was still sobbing as I gripped her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

Guys, came a shaky voice from our transportation. I really think we should get going. There may be more.

Even as Frank said those words, the emaciated form of a woman shuffled into view. Her worn pantsuit clung to her scrawny form, plastered with grime and bodily fluids.

I stood quickly, dragging Amber to her feet with me. As one, we ran, never breaking our embrace. At the front of the Humvee, we separated, hands touching until the last second, breaking only to enter on our own sides.

I moved mechanically, turning the ignition and starting us down the road. Three more zombies joined the woman, and I rammed right through all three. The woman, who I had missed, followed behind us, arms outstretched as if to try to grab our fleeing vehicle.

We drove on in silence. I maneuvered the Humvee woodenly, following the road instinctively as my mind pondered what was going to happen to me. I felt fine. Well, as fine as a man who just wrestled an undead giant and vomited the entire contents of his body could feel.

We passed very few houses. They all looked abandoned, grass growing wild and going to seed. I wondered how many of them held hidden survivors, people barricaded inside trying to wait this plague out. I’d been trying to do the same thing, but now that I was out, I was quite possibly going to turn into one of them; a zombie.

What happened back there? asked Frank, breaking our long silence.

I … I couldn’t finish my response.

Drew might have gotten some of the big zombie’s blood in his mouth, Amber finished my sentence.

I could see Frank shift in his seat, his handgun nonchalantly pointed at me. His reaction was understandable.

I’m fine, I assured him.

Should he be driving? Frank asked Amber.

I think it’s ok, she answered.

Do you think he’ll turn? he asked her.

I hope not, she said mournfully, looking at me.

He looks a little pale and red around the eyes, he pointed out.

Stop talking about me like I’m not here! I said angrily.

He seems to be getting irrational, Frank continued.

That’s it! I barked. If I turn, I’m going right for you Frank Frawley! I’m gonna eat your brains!

Stop it! Amber shouted.

Not that it’d be more than a mouthful, I mumbled.

Drop it! she warned. Drew’s gonna be just fine! she said with passion. She loved me. I finally have a girlfriend who loves me and now I’m going to become a zombie. How’s that for irony?

As we passed the national game lands on the right, the desolate landscape gave way to dirt roads cutting through the woods. We explored the roads, driving past what looked like empty camps. Some were small buildings that were roughly constructed and made for weekend getaways, while others looked pristine and well built. I made a mental note that they would be great places to move to in the event our present place got overrun.

My present condition brought the realization that mental notes may not stay with me very long, so I shared my thoughts with the others. They nodded and agreed with the idea. I wondered what I would remember when I did turn. Would I remember this place? Would I come here in search of my friends to try to eat them? Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I tried to relax, hoping it would delay the progress of the disease.

Maybe we should be getting back, Amber blurted, voicing her thoughts.

It’s still early, I said, emerging once again from my self-pity.

Henry’s still at the cottage, she said, her head bobbing up and down as if silently agreeing with her statement (or possibly it was a sympathetic response to get me to accept the idea). He might be able to do something.

There’s nothing to be done. If the ghoul’s blood contained the parasite, it was probably too late from the first instant. I really do feel fine, though, I assured her. Honest!

Conneaut was a town about the size of Slippery Rock. The virus had ravaged them as well. I don’t know why I expected anything else. As we drove through the outer reaches of the town, zombies were drawn to the noise of our Humvee. They streamed from everywhere all at once; front yards, woods, even exiting through ruined doors. It was like we were ringing the dinner bell.

What looked like an entire little league team emerged from a local park. Many of them still wore gloves and bright yellow caps as they continued on their intercept course. I drove straight through them, catching most with my deadly strike.

As we drove on, I felt cold. It was one thing to kill an undead person, but killing those children... Children!

It’s ok. They were all zombies, Amber reassured. You didn’t do anything wrong.

No. Where are the children?

I think he’s starting to turn, Frank mumbled, sitting forward and repositioning his gun.

You just drove through a bunch of them, Honey.

No! I said, having trouble making my mind work in sync with my mouth. Back at the cabin. We haven’t seen children since we arrived. Where are the kids?

It was true. We’d been at the cabin for about two weeks and made many scouting and foraging missions. I hadn’t seen a single child while I was on any of those expeditions. That’s weird. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?

What do you think it means? asked the beautiful woman sitting next to me.

Maybe they’re eating their young? said my friend from the back seat.

I don’t know what it means. And, no, I doubt they are eating their young!

I was just sayin’, he said apologetically. It’s happened before.

Amber spun about. It’s happened before?

Cannibalism, not zombieism, I corrected while avoiding a large woman dragging a leg. But, if they were eating their dead, wouldn’t it be happening everywhere? There were kids everywhere else. This place is teeming with them.

As if to emphasize the point, a once-cute little girl in a Catholic school uniform shambled into our path. I couldn’t do it. Spinning the wheel, I narrowly avoided striking her full-on. Grazing her shoulder, she spun to the road.

It was amazing. The longer we spent in this world, the more accustomed to it we became. A few zombies lurching around our moving vehicle brought little concern. If we were in a small hybrid car, it would’ve been different, but in this heavy military vehicle, we were provided with little comfort but lots of protection from the clawing hands of death all around.

It’s getting too thick, Frank said, perched forward in his seat. Maybe we should turn around?

My thoughts exactly, I said, spinning the wheel to the left and making an arc through someone’s front yard.

The Humvee’s turning radius wasn’t great. I guess you had to give some things up for safety. Comfort, turning radius, and fuel consumption were all sacrificed.

As my long orbit returned to its origin, I heard a