by Joseph Souza
Copyright
THE REAWAKENING
The Living Dead Trilogy Book I
Joseph Souza
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 Joseph Souza. All Rights Reserved.
Edited by Felicia A. Sullivan
Cover art by Jeroen ten Berge
eBook designed by MC Writing
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.
ISBN (Print Edition): 978-1-475028-36-2
ISBN (eBook Edition): 978-1-937572-56-3
About the Author
Joseph Souza has written numerous award-winning short stories and essays. In 2004 he won the Andre Dubus Award for short fiction and in 2010 he won runner-up for the Al Blanchard Award. The Reawakening is his first horror novel and the first in The Living Dead trilogy. His hilarious short satire Tornado Alley, written under the pen name Sigfried Overby can be found on Amazon.
Joseph lives in Maine with his wife and two children. Visit his website for more information about his novels and short stories at www.josephsouza.net. He can be reached at [email protected] and he welcomes all comments about his work. Follow him on Twitter @josephsouza3
If you enjoy this novel please feel free to write a review on Amazon. Thank you!
To Marleigh, Allie and Danny for their continual love and support
THE REAWAKENING
The Living Dead Trilogy Book I
a novel by
Joseph Souza
Cactus Tree Publishers
Maine
Prologue
March 2010
Dr. Douglass Trowbridge’s letter to congressional members
Dear Representatives,
It is with terrible sadness that I give this ominous warning to every member of Congress, but the increased use of genetically modified foods in the last fifteen years has left me with no other choice.
I am afraid for our citizens, as well as all of the citizens of the world. It is with great regret that I say this, but we will be unable to change the course of human events if we don’t act NOW! It may not be too late to stop the worst of what is to come if we work immediately in order to reverse this trend and discontinue the rampant use of genetically modified foods. Only you, the honorable representatives of the American people, hold the power to outlaw this monstrous procedure. If you fail to act now, then I am afraid that this sad attempt to override Mother Nature will cause irreparable harm to the people from every nation on earth.
Allow me to state my credentials. I was at one time a tenured professor at a prestigious university, as well as a consulting scientist at Vector Labs, one of the international leaders in GMO technology. I have a BS in biology and chemistry from MIT, and a PhD from John Hopkins University. I hold twenty-seven patents in GMO technology, all of which I regret patenting. As a result of an experiment that went terribly wrong, my career as a scientist was destroyed, and this has fortunately caused me to see the error of my ways. But it is not with bitterness that I write to you. Instead, it is my firsthand knowledge of this frightening new technology that requires me to inform you of its dangers.
First, a brief overview. Genetically modified foods were introduced to the markets in the mid-nineties. In 2006, certain animals were genetically altered in order to create omega-3 fatty acids, and this was done by introducing specific gene types into their systems. Part of the goal was to reduce the phosphorous in their manure, thus reducing their environmentally harmful effects. Since that time, GMO technology has advanced and grown exponentially, with the U.S. being the most prolific user of the technology.
I will spare you all the technical jargon, but the basic science of genetic modification requires one to either add or remove genes from the targeted organism, using either a microsyringe or injecting it in with a gene gun. The alternate method to doing this is by the use of a lethalvirus, which is utilized as a vehicle to carry the genes into the animal cells. By inserting it into the nucleus of the host, the new organism is allowed to develop and reform, mutating along the way.
My research has established a number of disturbing trends in this area. The primary concern is that it irrevocably alters the biological system of the person exposed to these dangerous new strains. The genetic material transferred into humans changes the way the bacteria lives inside the intestines. Because these bacteria are living organisms and necessary to the digestive process, the introduction of these new strains has the potential to alter the basic components of human physiology by altering the very genetic code that make us humans unique. The ramifications of this biological shift will be dramatic. Already, scientific research has determined that over 80% of unborn babies have traces of Bacillus thuringiensis (Bt) toxins in their systems, which have been introduced into GMO crops in order to make them more resistant to pests. In addition, wider exposure to these new crops will certainly make humans less resistant to antibiotic diseases, thus causing increased disease and prolonged suffering.
In addition, I have discovered that a change in the human DNA can have much more dramatic results than expected. Not only have I documented these results, but I have witnessed the terrible consequences first hand. Much of humans’ DNA throughout the last forty million years has been derived from viruses via epidemics quite similar to Yellow Fever and the Black Plague. It is a well-known fact that virally transmitted DNA can cause terrible mutations in the human body. It is also well documented in the field of psychiatry that many mood disorders such as bipolar disorder, depression and schizophrenia are a direct result of such mutated DNA being introduced into the human system. Living bacteria, growing inside the intestines and constantly changing and mutating, only make the situation worse.
In my opinion, the widespread use of genetically altered foods has caused many of these psychiatric disorders to propagate, thus making the world a more dangerous and inhospitable place to live. Cases of autism and schizophrenia have grown exponentially, as have certain allergies and various forms of cancer. In fact, the list is too great to mention in detail, but suffice to say, the aforementioned will cause widespread poverty, disease and social ailments if left unchecked. It is no wonder that in the last ten years the world has seen increased crime rates, rampant genocide and systematic raping of women, and mind-numbing poverty. And lethal, virus-based diseases, such as AIDs and avian flu have also increased, mutating beyond control and proving even more resistant to the newer drug therapies.
Because of this technology, I predict we will see an outbreak of new and more terrifying epidemics in the coming years. Already the world is sickly. The human condition is teetering on a dangerous cliff, and the smallest crisis could tip the scales towards an event so catastrophic that it might forever change the course of human history. I fear this is happening as I write this letter to you, because I have personally witnessed aberrant behavior in the control groups that I have set up and studied. The results of this research, however, have been purposely concealed by my previous employer, Vector Labs, in order that they may continue raking in their obscene profits and thus maintain their dominance in the field of GMO technology. How this catastrophe will one day manifest is anyone’s guess. It may result in a plague of apocalyptic consequences, or it might take the form of a worldwide war caused by the breakdown of the social and economic order.
Time is running out, Representatives. The tipping point is nigh. The world is ne
aring that crucial fork in the road where it can go in either direction. Please choose the right path. As a former researcher in the field, I can personally bear witness to the true horrors of this technology, and they are too unbelievable to even mention in this letter. Besides, you may find it difficult to believe me if I told you the things that I have witnessed. I urge you, as one of the leaders of the greatest country on earth, please protect the citizens of this great country, and the citizens of earth, before it is too late. Consider the draconian consequences of widespread psychiatric disorders in the Middle East or the countries that once comprised the Soviet Union. Consider that it might take only one mentally disturbed despot to trigger the next world war. I beg you to do the courageous thing and ban all use of genetically modified techniques in our food chain before it is too late.
Sincerely,
Dr. Douglass Trowbridge
Chapter 1
DAR HAD BEEN RELUCTANT TO TRAVEL this weekend, but Margaret and I thought it would be good idea to get her out of the city for a couple of days. The last few weeks had been hell, particularly after Dar tried to take her own life by swallowing a handful of her mother’s sleeping pills. Fortunately, our son Stephen had been home at the time and discovered her passed out on the bathroom floor, and immediately called 911.
I kissed Margaret goodbye and wished Stephen good luck in his soccer tournament this weekend. Then I grabbed our bags and carried them out the front door of our Back Bay home, and placed them in the trunk of the car, which was double-parked on Marlborough Street. It was a beautiful fall day. Pedestrians, joggers and bikers filled the streets. The foliage around Boston splashed autumn in every direction. I started the engine, put in a Sonny Rollins CD, and then waited patiently as Dar climbed into the passenger seat. I was just about to drive off when Margaret came running out the front door.
“Forgot her meds again,” she said, passing me the plastic bag containing her pill bottles.
Dar rolled her eyes and looked away.
“Drive careful, babe.” She kissed me on the lips. “I want the two of you to come back in one piece.”
“Don’t worry about us, hon. We’ll be having the time of our lives up there on the farm.”
“Yeah, dawg, partying like gangsters with the chickens and cows,” Dar said, forming a gang symbol with her fingers.
“You’ll see, Dar, it’ll be good for you to spend some time with your aunt and uncle.” Margaret turned to me. “I love you, Thom. Keep an eye on my girl, okay?”
“Of course I will. See you in a few days.”
“Can’t wait,” she whispered, nibbling on my earlobe. “And I just might have a nice surprise waiting for you when you get back.”
“Why don’t the two of you just get a room,” Dar snapped.
Margaret backed away from the car door and waved goodbye.
I shifted the car into drive and navigated the crowded streets until we were heading north on Route 93.
We merged from Route 93 onto 95 and headed towards Maine, passing through Portsmouth and crossing over the Piscataqua Bridge. As soon as we made it over the border, I could feel all the stress of the city draining out of me, and I became more relaxed the further north we traveled. Even the air smelled cleaner. Dar had fallen asleep next to me, and I certainly didn’t see fit to wake her. I glanced over at her from time to time, catching glimpses of her beautiful face: the small nose, the long, graceful eyelashes and full red lips. Watching her sleep, one would never believe that this beautiful creature had suffered so much turmoil in her seventeen short years. Where our son had excelled both academically and in athletics, Dar seemed to recede further into the recesses of her depression the older she got. But she was smart. Not only had she tested off the charts, but she was creative and artistic, although one would never know it from looking at her grades.
We were greeted by the sign once we came off the bridge:
Welcome to Maine: The Way Life Should Be
After passing through Portland, we headed straight towards Bangor. The road was long and straight, and the explosion of colors enthralled me. It was refreshing not to pass a large city every couple of miles, and I enjoyed the long stretches of road where I could gaze out at the gentle hills and empty fields. With Miles Davis playing on the CD, Dar asleep next to me, and the sun’s warm rays pouring in through the sunroof, life seemed good.
I switched on the radio and listened to NPR. Congress was still at an impasse on the budget, and both parties were refusing to compromise. The government would be shut down in three days if an agreement could not be reached. The Republicans railed about the eighteen trillion dollar deficit, the Democrats about deep cuts to vital programs. The European Union was watching the situation closely since Greece, Portugal, Ireland and Italy were on the verge of economic collapse. And the Chinese were clearly not happy with the political developments in America, as they held trillions of dollars in reserve. Making matters worse, the ruler of North Korea had passed away and was to be succeeded by his unpredictable youngest son. Disgusted with the state of affairs, I switched back to the jazz and let my mind wander.
Finally we reached my brother’s farm in the northern part of Maine. The sun had just begun to set by the time I steered the car into the long driveway. Dar raised her head up sleepily and stared out the window.
“Are we there yet, Dad?” she asked, stretching out her arms.
“Just pulled in, Dar.”
“About time.”
Rick and Susan walked out to greet us. My brother and I had been competitive since childhood, always trying to one-up each other. Where my novels had taken off in the last few years, his career as a scientist had gone in the opposite direction. And yet I still remained intimidated by his towering intellect and his many scientific accomplishments. I’d played second fiddle to him for most of my life, and yet somehow I’d turned out to be the more successful of the two of us.
“How was the drive up?” Rick asked, grabbing our bags out of the trunk.
“Wonderful, bro. Can’t even begin to tell you how nice it was not to have to deal with bumper-to-bumper traffic.”
“I certainly don’t miss city driving.” He paused and then whispered, “How’s Dar?”
“She’s been feeling a lot better these last few weeks.”
“Glad to hear it. Susan and I were sick to death when we heard about that suicide attempt.” He picked up the bags. “Come on in, Thom, and we’ll grab a couple of cold ones.”
We walked inside the farmhouse and sat down at the dining room table. Susan got us something to drink and then placed a bowl full of homegrown carrots and radishes on the table. As a gift, I gave them each a signed copy of my new novel, although I knew Rick would never read it. All he cared about were his own narrow, scientific interests.
I stared out at the open fields and the cows grazing in the pasture. It was so beautiful and rustic that for a moment I understood why they had moved up here. Rick had lectured me about preparing for the coming crisis and being self-sufficient, but then again, my brother had always held radically different views from the rest of society.
I could see myself becoming accustomed to this rural pace, the hustle and bustle of city life far removed from my overburdened mind. By the time Susan started to prepare our dinner, I was as relaxed as I’d been in a long time. Dar sat in the kitchen conversing with Susan. I sat back in my chair, a cold beer in hand, and began to swap childhood stories with my older brother.
We laughed as we rehashed old times.
So why did I feel apprehensive?
Chapter 2
JUST AS WE SAT DOWN TO dinner, the animals outside began to act in a bizarre fashion. I walked over to the window and observed their odd behavior. The cows were staggering aimlessly on the grassy meadow, mooing and crashing into each other as if they’d suddenly lost their bearings. Although I had no experience working on a farm, I’d never seen anything quite like it.
I opened the door and walked outside, leaned on the wooden rai
l fence, and studied them. They cried and bellowed, loud, mournful bawling as if tormented. I noticed that the sky had turned almost jaundiced in color. A few moments later, Dar walked out and stood beside me.
“What are they doing, Dad?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Why in the world would they be crying and bumping into each other like that?”
“You should ask your uncle. He’s the farmer in the family.”
“He quit his job as a scientist to come up here and farm this crappy piece of land? Doesn’t make any sense.”
“I suppose he wanted to live closer to the land and escape the rat race,” I said, shrugging. “Why don’t you go ask him yourself if you’re so interested?”
“Maybe I will. And maybe he’ll give me a plausible reason to skip going to college.”
“How do you think he could afford all this in the first place? The man’s earned a PhD in genetics for crying out loud.” I smiled at her. “Besides, Dar, when you’re older, you’ll remember your college days as some of the best times of your life.”
“Seriously doubt that, Dad. Just the thought of school makes me want to barf. Maybe I’ll move up here and be a farmhand instead.”
“I’d love to see you shoveling cow shit and baling hay all day. You’d be enrolled in college after one day of hard farm work.”
“Whatever.” Dar rolled her eyes and stared over at the distressed herd.
Suddenly Rick sidled up next to us. “You guys coming in to eat or what?”
“What’s up with the herd, Rick? I’ve never seen cows act like that before.”
“I’m still pretty new at this whole farming thing myself. The pigs out back are acting weird too.” He placed his elbows on the fence and looked out with concern. “It could be any number of things: the weather, movement in the tectonic plates, diet, or some other subtle thing in the environment that we humans can’t detect. We’ve got a saying on the farm. Shit happens.”
