The Parasite War

by Tim Sullivan

  "Who else is going to volunteer?" Claire asked.

  "Jo is," said Alex.

  "Oh, I am, am I?" Jo looked extremely dubious about Alex's assertion.

  "You have to, Jo. You're the only one who's been infected."

  "True, but so what?"

  "Jo, there are millions of colloids just a few blocks away. When you and I get close enough to them, their telepathic emanations are going to get through to us."

  Jo's brow furrowed. "I was going to ask you how you know that, but that question would be a waste of breath."

  "Who knows what else might happen?" Alex said. "We've never been so close to so many colloids since we were infected. You never have been near thousands of them like I have. We've speculated on the possibility that their telepathy is enhanced by larger numbers of colloids. I remember how they seemed to scream when I shot them the night I met you. My mind was picking up their pain. If we're psychically receptive to them, maybe we can learn enough to second-guess them all the way to their breeding ground."

  "You've been up too long, man," said Satch.

  "No, I think it's possible," Claire said.

  "Are you feeling any telepathic signals?" Alex said to Jo.

  She looked a little frightened. "Maybe . . . I can't really be sure."

  "I think you must be picking them up," Alex said. "I am. It's very faint, but it's definitely there."

  Jo's eyes were furtive, frightened, but Alex took her by the hand.

  "The infection can't hurt you, Jo," he said. "We drove it out of you once. And they aren't going to try it again. But you're sensitive to them now, just like I am. Can't you feel it?"

  "Yes," she said. "God help me."

  Alex put his arm around her. "This can help us win, Jo," he said. "This power they've accidentally left us with could make all the difference."

  Jo nodded.

  Now that he had become aware of the colloid's emanations, Alex read them more and more clearly. The guerrillas were indeed very close to the breeding ground, he sensed. The infected were under the colloids' control, of course, but very imprecisely. Once the virus matured, it became more and more communicative with the colloids, until it was a colloid itself. And then it was part of an enormous group mind, a psionic network that covered the entire planet.

  "Do you want to take the Jersey side, Jo?" Alex asked.

  She looked at him strangely. "You read my mind," she said, not realizing for a moment why the others were laughing. "But I guess that's the whole point, isn't it?"

  "Exactly," Alex said. "Let's go."

  Alex crouched as he made his way across an open area, and then hid behind a crumbling warehouse. He saw no indication that he had been spied by the infected, though he could see a few of them shambling about in the distance. He looked back toward the building where the guerrillas hid, and saw Riquelme watching him.

  Alex felt, rather than saw, Jo making her way cautiously to the west. She worked her way toward the docks as she attempted to circle around the infected hordes.

  Doing the same thing, Alex moved quickly from the shelter of one building to the next. Willing himself to stay in contact with Jo, he scurried a few blocks and then stopped to get his bearings.

  He could smell salt on the breeze that was blowing away the mist. That meant that he couldn't have been more than a half mile from the ocean; perhaps he was even closer than that. Had he gone far enough east to avoid the infected?

  If he climbed to the top of one of these piles of rubble, he might find it a good vantage point. In fact, there were a number of more or less intact buildings in the neighborhood. One of them might prove even more useful for reconnaissance. Looking for a high roof, he began to move furtively to the east again.

  At last he found one with a fire escape. Climbing up and crawling across the roof, he made his way to the building's southern edge and peered out over the harbor.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The low-lying fog was burning away rapidly, revealing the dark mass of Staten Island and the wreckage of the Verazzano and Goethals bridges, as well as Governor's Island. Even Ellis Island was faintly visible. And just past it was Liberty Island, where the Statue of Liberty still stood. Colloids or not, Alex supposed, the Army had drawn the line at blasting the Lady.

  Closer in, along the rotting wharves lining New York Harbor, were the massed colloids and infected. Alex gasped involuntarily when he saw how many there were. Not tens of thousands, not hundreds of thousands, but surely millions. A black, viscous stream of agitated colloids roiled uneasily between the streets and the docks. Between the guerrillas and the colloids, the infected were so closely packed that he could easily believe that some of them were being crushed to death. Indeed, there were hundreds of lifeless figures lying on the broken asphalt near the docks. Many of them heaved with the feeding throes of their parasites, as the colloids rushed to finish consuming them before they rotted.

  Reminded of Hitler's rallies, Alex watched a forest of mindless human bodies sway as they formed a barrier between their alien masters' breeding ground and the guerrillas.

  But where, exactly, was the breeding ground? It occurred to him that perhaps "ground" was not the right word. But how could the colloids have bred the creature underwater? He thought about it and realized that an amphibious creature would be the fifth stage of colloid evolution on earth.

  But that would come later, he knew. For now, a thing that walked on land was the colloids' aim. Why, then, was Alex so certain that the breeding ground was somewhere beyond the waterfront, out in the harbor somewhere?

  Alex tried to use his newfound telepathic gift to find out. As he concentrated, he thought he saw something move out there in the mist.

  He focused his mind, for the moment forgetting everything, even Jo.

  And he saw where the breeding ground was. Hundreds of colloids were on Liberty Island, sliding around the base of the Statue of Liberty! There were humans out there, too—third stage infected.

  It made sense now. They needed a lot of salt water, the basic fluid that would compose most of the neonate's body, just as it composed most of a human body. But the colloids themselves couldn't deal with water, not even saline water. So, to do the job for them, they manipulated human helpers with colloids in their brains.

  Alex's reception of the colloids' telepathic waves was stronger up here on this roof than it had been on the ground. Was it possible that the massed infected had created a kind of interference to the transmission? That might be another reason why the colloids had set them up as a barrier between Liberty Island and Manhattan. For surely they knew that Alex and Jo were receiving their emanations.

  Of course, Alex realized with a chill, that might also mean that they knew where he and Jo were. And just where was Jo now?

  He shut his eyes, panicking to think that something had happened while he had cut off contact with Jo. But she was there, watching the masses of the infected from behind an old loading platform. He tried to talk to her with his mind, but his thoughts were only a vague sensation to her, as hers were to him. Nevertheless, she knew that Alex was there with her.

  As the sun slowly rose, its orange light gleamed on the water. Alex tried to focus his thoughts on the activities of the colloids out in the harbor, and he struggled to get past the colloids and the milling zombies who protected them.

  Suddenly he felt an exultant rush that surprised him so much that he almost cried out. It came from Jo.

  She had moved closer to the water, and had seen something that they needed. A boat.

  It wasn't much, just an old fireboat with rotting hoses coiled on its thirty-foot deck. Somehow the line that held it to the pier was still secured, and the fireboat had not been set adrift. Here was a way to get out to Liberty Island . . . if they could get past the infected. The brain damaged creatures were much less plentiful in Jo's vicinity, but there were still thousands of them only a few hundred feet from her hiding place, ominously crowding the broken streets.

  Alex
had little time to wonder at the clarity of Jo's vision, seen as it was through his own eyes. If they lived through this, there would be ample time to compare notes in the future. If they didn't live through it, then there might not be a future for anybody on the planet. With that in mind, Alex scrambled back to the fire escape and climbed down. In a few minutes he was back with the guerrillas.

  "They're out on Liberty Island," he told them.

  "How ironic," said Claire.

  "It's far enough from the mainland that they feel safe," Alex said, "and I guess the water is probably a lot cleaner out there."

  "Yes, the deeper waters are probably essential. Even after three years the water close to shore is still tainted with many toxins. The location of the breeding ground means that we have one thing to our advantage, though. There are only so many large population centers on earth situated on deep water harbors. If we win here today, we'll know where to look for the colloid breeding grounds from now on. Once we've managed to—"

  "Hold thy tongue, woman," Samuel said. "This is the day for smiting our enemies, not talking."

  Claire looked at Samuel with something between annoyance and amusement.

  "Jo has found a boat for us," Alex said.

  Everyone seemed a little confused, and Elvin asked in his flat way, "How do you know that? She's not back yet."

  "Trust me," Alex said. "There's a roof a few blocks east that is a perfect place to set up the mortar." He quickly gave Irv Finney directions to the building. "You'll need a couple of people, Irv. Mavis and Judd, go with him."

  The three of them got their weapons together and set off to the east. Irv had shown a knack accuracy with rocket propelled grenades in the past.

  "Let's get moving, then." Riquelme shouldered the flamethrower's fuel tank and stepped forward.

  "Right." Alex started moving to the west, trying to focus his thoughts on Jo to stay put, assuring her that they would join her in just a few minutes.

  It was very strange, tracing the streets that Jo had taken a short while before. Her memory was stronger than a feeling of déjà vu; Alex had actually been on these potholed streets with her, in a very real sense. At the time, he had hardly noticed how vivid her sensory emanations were, preoccupied as he was by his own mission. He hurried to her with such surefooted assurance that the others had a difficult time keeping up with him. The litter bearers, in fact, fell a good distance behind, so Alex paused to let them catch up.

  Alex understood now that the infected would pay no attention to them until they came toward the docks. Once the guerrillas attempted to move toward Liberty Island, the neonate's guardians would try to stop the attack in their largely ineffectual way. Their sheer numbers were going to pose quite a problem, but Alex thought there was a chance that the guerrillas could break through to the fireboat.

  He saw Jo, just ahead. She was crouching behind the platform waiting for them. Nobody else saw her for a few seconds, but of course Alex knew exactly where she was even before her image registered on the vision centers of his brain.

  Their telepathic bond grew stronger all the time, and Jo turned knowingly toward him before she could possibly know he was there through the five human senses.

  Her premature response was not lost on Claire Siegel.

  "You are in communication with her, aren't you, Alex?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "In New Jersey, you said that your telepathic ability was vanishing. Has the proximity of the colloids brought it back?"

  "Yes, I think so." He left Dr. Siegel with that and sprinted toward Jo.

  "Alex," she said. "I saw what you saw . . . "

  "I know," he said, "but there's no time to talk about it now. We've got to get our hands on that fireboat."

  "There are so many of the infected in our way," said Jo. "Do you think we can do it?"

  "What choice do we have?"

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Alex watched the infected milling around, and tried to decide if the guerrillas' best bet was to go directly for the boat en masse, or for a raiding party to try to take it while the others set up a cross fire from cover. He discussed these alternatives with Jo.

  "If we all go," she said, "then there won't be anybody left if we don't make it."

  "So you think we shouldn't all get on the boat?"

  "Right."

  "Okay, but we're going to need enough people to fight the colloids and the infected once we get out on the island. What do you say we split the difference?"

  "Well, that would leave us a chance if we don't succeed, all right."

  "I've got a question," Claire said. "How are we going to get that boat started?"

  "We've got those charged batteries, and we siphoned out the rest of the gasoline from the jeeps. We'll see if we can get the engine going. If we can't . . . then we can't. We'll have to think of something else."

  Elvin, to the surprise of the Philadelphia guerrillas, and Dan Galouye each volunteered to carry a can of gasoline. The guerrillas had brought it along in case they found a vehicle on this side of the Hudson that would still run, but nobody had imagined that they would end up using it on a boat. Two other men, Clement and Stubbs, would each carry a battery. As Elvin and Galouye brought the sloshing cans forward, Alex began to pick those who would go with them if they could get the boat running.

  He chose all of the original Philadelphia guerrillas, knowing that he could depend on them, and he chose Shina and Satch, who seemed as if they weren't afraid to fight. As he singled out those who were to go on the boat, he noticed Jack Crowley eagerly watching him.

  Alex turned to Jack and Ronnie. "I want you two to stay here."

  "No way," Jack said. "You gotta let me go with you."

  Alex could not bear the thought of letting this boy die, not after what had happened to the kid's father. "We need cover when we try to take that boat," he said.

  "You need to get the boat started, too," Jack said. "I can do that."

  Alex didn't think that this was false bravado. There was such an expression of self-assurance and earnestness on Jack's youthful face that it seemed impractical to doubt him at this crucial juncture. "You're good with engines, huh?"

  "Ask Ronnie."

  "Yeah," Ronnie said. "The Harley conked out in Jersey, and Jack got it going somehow. I still don't know how he did it, but he convinced me that I shouldn't worry about it happening again. That's why I felt like we could keep on going to New York."

  "Well, you should have come back as soon as he fixed the bike." In spite of his admonition, it seemed entirely likely to Alex that Jack knew a good deal more about engines than any of the adults among them. "That was a stupid thing to do."

  "Sorry," Ronnie said meekly.

  "Jack," Alex asked, "how long will it take you to know whether you can get that boat's motor going?"

  "If I can just get a look at it for a few seconds, I'll have a pretty good idea if I can get it started."

  "Okay, then the thing to do is to sneak you aboard so you can have a look at it, rather than risk everybody's lives."

  "Right."

  "Which means that we're going to need a diversion," Jo said.

  "Hey," Alex protested, "who's the military strategist around here, me or you?"

  "I've seen enough Rambo movies to figure it out," Jo said sarcastically.

  "You like Rambo?" Jack said in amazement.

  "Not really."

  "It shouldn't be too difficult to draw the attention of those infected nearest the boat, not when Irv starts firing the RPGs. Jack and the other guys will board the fireboat, see if they can get the engine started and, if they can, pour in the gasoline. Once they give us the high sign, half of us will rush the boat while the other half covers us from a block away."

  "And if they don't give us the high sign?" Ronnie asked, worry evident on her pretty face.

  "If they start coming for you, Jack," Alex said, "dive in the harbor and swim for it. They won't follow you into the water, and once you've gotten away
from where they're massed, I don't think you'll be in any danger from them."

  "Your only danger will be from pneumonia at that point," Jo said sarcastically.

  "Nevertheless, it might be your only way out. Don't hesitate to dive in, no matter how cold the water might be."

  "Okay." Jack's jaw was set in grim determination. He intended to vindicate his father's memory today, one way or another.

  "I'd like to go along," Harry, one of the men from New Jersey said. "Pat Crowley and me went back a long ways."

  "You got it." Alex turned back to the others. "Let's go," he said.