Host Manipulation

By Deborah Diebert

Rabies, from the Latin word rabere, “to rave,” is the deadliest virus known in the world and the truest form of host manipulation. Once infected, the virus controls the hosts. They develop a fear of water and moving air and become sensitive to bright light. The virus lives in the salivary glands, and in order to spread to another host, it manipulates the host into becoming an aggressive creature. Left untreated, rabies is almost universally fatal...until it isn’t.
In a world where few uninfected humans are still alive, survival is about who can stay hidden, who can remain quiet, and who is prepared. In their basement hideout, Shelby wakes to discover that her husband John, the man she slept next to for nineteen years has died. Alone with her seventeen-year-old daughter Megan and her fourteen-year-old son Liam, Shelby must learn to survive and trust again in a world plagued by brain-manipulated Hosts and Military predators.
Written by a Microbiologist, Host Manipulation entangles real scientific horrors with human experiences in a story that grips the reader and doesn’t let go.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deborah Diebert
• Release date: Mar 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370549283

Deborah Diebert

Deborah Diebert is certified with the American Society of Clinical Pathology as a Medical Laboratory Scientist with a Specialist certification in Microbiology. She lives in Colorado with her daughter, son and husband. Host Manipulation is her debut novel.

Book preview

Host Manipulation

Host Manipulation

Deborah Diebert

Medical Laboratory Scientist (ASCP), Specialist in Microbiologycm

For all the Laboratorians who fight the demons behind the scenes every day and night.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Host Manipulation. Copyright 2017 by Deborah Diebert. All rights reserved.

www.deborahdiebert.com

First Edition: January 2017

This is Fact:

Once infected with the furious form of Rabies, victims develop hydrophobia (fear of water), aerophobia (fear of moving air), (3) and photophobia (fear of bright light). (4) Victims become extremely aggressive, lose inhibitions and salivate excessively. It is the most fatal virus known to man with a fatality rate of nearly 100 percent. (1)

This is ALSO Fact:

In May of 2010 researchers discovered 6 people within two communities in the Peruvian Amazon with evidence of nonfatal exposure to the rabies virus, likely associated with vampire bat depredation. (2)

Meaning Humans survived the Rabies virus.

Bill Wasik and Monica Murphy. Rabid. Penguin Books, 2012. Print

Amy T. Gilbert, Brett W. Peterson, Sergio Recuenco, Michael Neizgoda, Jorge Gomez, V. Alberto Laguna-Torres, and Charles Rupprecht. 2012. Evidence of Rabies Virus Exposure among Human in the Peruvian Amazon. Am. J. Trop. Med Hyg., 87(2). 2012 pp. 2016-215

Rabies. eMedicinhealth. 2017 WebMD, INC. January 2017

Rabies: Symptoms, Diagnosis and Treatment. MNT Medical News Today. MediLexicon International Ltd, Brighton, UK 2004-2017. January 2017.

Chapter 1

The screams outside woke her. They sounded close. Close enough to be in the neighborhood. Maybe even on this block. The full moon shone bright outside the dingy basement window. They always hunted when the night sky glowed with a full moon.

The howls rang out through the frozen night and grew in intensity until an anguished tortured cry rose above the predator screams. And then with a final yelp, it became quiet. Very quiet.

Shelby stiffened on the worn mattress and listened. She could hear her heart thudding in her chest, but she couldn’t hear her husband breathing. Before she could turn over, or even before she could fill her lungs with air, she knew that the man she slept next to for nineteen years had died in the night.

The cold from the corpse leached into the mattress, seeped across the bed, and burrowed into her bones. It didn’t surprise her he was dead. It only surprised her that she could get any colder.

Pale moonlight spilled in through the basement window and bleached the darkness into various shades of gray. Shelby rolled over and looked at John. Thin pasty skin stretched across his sunken face. His boney hands clutched the bedsheet, and his ash-colored lips parted in a gasp for a last breath. His eyes would haunt her. His lifeless eyes bulged out of their sockets and stared at the ceiling.

Shelby wished for complete darkness. A black veil to hide the grotesque image lying in her bed. She didn’t need light anyway. She knew every detail of the basement, and even in cavelike blackness, she could easily move around.

Shelby’s skin crawled and she wanted to bolt from between the sheets. Instead, still fully clothed, she slid slowly out of bed and slipped her wool-socked feet into thick boots. With shaking fingers, she tied the laces and tried to slow her breathing. She looked up just as a dark shadow passed outside the window. She stood up slowly and picked up the pistol on the nightstand. As she lifted it, the muzzle scraped against the cheap particleboard. Shelby cringed and froze.

Shep, their German Shepard, pounced up and stared at the window with his ears perked. Shelby held her palm up and he lay back down. She waited.

The dark form lurched outside the window. Shelby’s blood rushed through her veins. She didn’t move. The creature paced back and forth. Shelby looked down at Shep. The round moon reflected off the dog’s black irises as he stared out the window. She clicked off the safety. The creature reared its head back and howled. In the distance, another cry rang out. The Host stopped for a moment and stood still. Another screech and the creature staggered away toward it. She released a lungful of air and ducked past the window.

Shelby crouched down next to her daughter, who slept on a mattress tucked into the corner of the room. Megan’s eyes opened. She looked at Shelby and then at her father. Her chin quivered. Is he gone? Megan asked in a strangled voice just above a whisper.

Shelby touched her finger to her pursed lips. Shhh. She pointed to the window and then met her daughter’s expectant stare. There would be no way to soften the blow. Shelby nodded slowly.

Megan inhaled sharply and clamped her hands over her mouth. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. With her free hand, Shelby reached for her daughter; her heart crumbled for her oldest child.

More screams were heard outside.

Liam shifted on his mattress.

Shelby turned to her son with her finger to her lips. Liam sat up with his greasy hair plastered to his pimply forehead. Clean water had become too precious for bathing. He looked at her, then at Megan, and then at John. Liam started to tremble and tears filled his eyes. He fell back into the mattress and shoved his face into his pillow. He pulled the edges of the pillow over his ears and shook with grief. Liam was her youngest. She wanted to hold him close and comfort him, but when she touched his shoulder, he shrugged her away and inched closer to the wall.

Megan sucked in her breath.

The Host had returned and this time it was only a few feet outside the window, bouncing from side to side. Hosts couldn’t see very well, but they could hear. And they could hear well. The creature howled and hesitated. It held perfectly still and appeared to be listening.

Shelby controlled every muscle in her body and stood up. She kept her eyes on the dirty glass and inched to the window. The creature stumbled toward the house until it was so close; she could hear it grunting through the glass. The tall shadow loomed over the window. Shelby curled her finger around the trigger and she aimed the pistol at the Host. Any noise and they could all join John in death. She waited. The creature tilted its head toward them, paused, and then swung its head around and growled. It stood perfectly still for a moment, then suddenly it launched forward and started pounding against the walls. Little pieces of plaster rained down on her head. Shelby jumped and looked at her children. Megan’s hand, clamped over her mouth, shook, and Liam lay on his side with his eyes clenched and his palms pressed against his ears. The Host beat on the walls and screamed. Shep jumped up and snarled. Shelby held her hand up again and Shep lay down.

The creature stopped and stood still again. Shelby held her breath and waited. The Host growled and stepped a few feet to the side. It paused and then rustled the leafless bush branches that hid the window well in spring. A rabbit darted out of the bush. The Host grunted, turned, and followed the rabbit.

Shelby’s shoulders relaxed and she slumped to the grimy coarse carpet between her children. She flipped the safety on, but she didn’t set the pistol down.

Will it come back? Megan whispered.

I don’t know, Shelby said.

Megan laid back down and pulled the blanket over her head. Shep whimpered and climbed in bed with Liam.

Shelby tucked her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and glared at the corpse. With her free hand, she clutched the locket hanging around her neck. In it, one side held a faded picture of Megan and the other side held a picture of Liam. The images of both were much younger than they were now.

Liam’s breaths came in short gasps.

Liam? Shelby whispered.

Liam twisted around until he faced her. Leave me alone, he hissed through clenched teeth. Then he covered his head with the comforter and slid up against the wall, as far away from her as he could.

Shelby didn’t dare reach out to him for fear he would yell out. The child she once held and comforted didn’t want her anywhere near him. Helpless, Shelby pressed her cheek to her knobby knee and breathed the foul smell of three unwashed people, a corpse, and a dog crammed into a musty basement.

With the gun in her hand, she stayed there shivering until a drab gray light crept though the dirty window and the screams faded away. She stood up, set the pistol on the windowsill, and blew into her hands. She lit a candle on the nightstand. The yellow light flickered and cast evil shadows that danced around the dead.

Liam stood up slowly and walked over to his father’s side. Dad, he croaked and fell to his knees.

Megan walked over and stood by her brother. She reached out and closed her father’s eyelids. Good-bye, Dad.

Shelby winced. She should have thought to close John’s eyelids. No child should have to do that.

Megan laid a hand on Liam’s shoulder. Shep whimpered and sat next to Liam.

John died in their bed in the house they had owned for over twenty years, but at this moment, unable to share her children’s grief, she was an outsider.

A hint of blue took over the gray in the window.

We need to go soon, Shelby said. We’ll need every minute of daylight. Especially now, when the days are short and the winter’s darkness always came quickly.

Megan blew her nose and shuffled to the bathroom. She used the toilet, which was nothing more than a bucket in the shower stall. It may have been sealed with a lid, but the stench never really left the basement.

Liam stood up. He was almost as tall as his sister was, but he was so thin that his head looked too large for his body. His blue eyes met Shelby’s for a moment before his gaze dropped to the floor.

The bathroom door creaked. Do you need help? Megan asked.

No, Shelby said. She didn’t want Megan’s help. No child should have to take care of their dead father. Shelby rolled John’s body in the dirty bedsheets and wrapped gray duct tape tightly around the corpse. By the time the she was done, the body looked like a mummy, and the wax on the candle started to melt and drip onto the nightstand.

We need to go, Shelby said.

Liam didn’t move or say anything, but she could hear him breathe in and out, and she felt the weight of his stare. Only when Megan nudged him did he tie his shoes.

Megan, make sure the packs are ready. Shelby unzipped her backpack and handed Megan hers.

Megan tucked her light brown hair behind her ears and nodded.

I’ll get the guns, Shelby said. With stiff fingers, she shoved bullets into the pistol’s magazine and then holstered it onto her belt. She pulled on the barrel of the shotgun, checked the shells, and slung it over her shoulder.

Where’s your gun, Megan? Shelby asked.

Megan held up a silver revolver.

Shelby slid open the cylinder, spun it around to be sure it was loaded, and handed it back to Megan. Take the rifle too and try and leave the safety off. Shelby turned to Liam and held out a ring of keys. Liam, you’ll need to open the trapdoor for us and carry the gas can.

The keys clinked as he took them from her.

Shelby motioned for Megan to help her. Shelby lifted John by the shoulders and tried not to cringe from the way the cool, loose skin felt under the thin sheets. Megan lifted John’s feet. Together they lifted the body onto a stretcher made of metal tent poles and canvas.

Dad, Megan sobbed.

Liam looked at the body. His face was wet with tears.

Dust particles floated in the stream of sunlight slicing through the window.

We need to go now, Shelby said.

They lifted the stretcher. It was heavier than Shelby expected. Death had not taken John quickly. He had wasted into nothing but a thin layer of skin over a shrunken skeleton. He had been a large man, and they were weak from lack of exercise and food.

Liam went first. They walked out of the basement’s single bedroom and through the hallway into a dim common room. A small sofa sat in front of a cold cast iron stove surrounded by red bricks. They often slept in this room, but they couldn’t risk burning coal during a full moon. The smoke and soot could attract the monsters. They carried John’s body around a card table with four plastic folding chairs and followed Liam to the staircase. Darkness swallowed Liam when he reached the top. He fumbled with the keys while trying to unlock the trapdoor in the ceiling that opened into the pantry above.

Shelby waited at the bottom of the stairs. The stretcher became unbearably heavy, and the walls began to close in on her. The air suddenly became too thick to breath. Panic drummed in her ears and threatened to overwhelm her. Liam, use your light, Shelby said. Her words spilled out more quickly than she intended.

A moment later, Liam’s flashlight burst on and he unlocked the padlock. The hinges squealed as he lifted the wooden trapdoor. Bright sunlight poured in. Shelby gulped the fresh air and fought the urge to drop the body, grab her children, and run into the open air.

Liam held open the door while Megan and Shelby climbed the stairs with the stretcher. Shelby’s forehead was slick with sweat by the time they stepped into the kitchen.

A thin layer of frozen dust covered the oak kitchen table and granite countertop. The cupboard doors were open and some were torn off the hinges. Broken pieces of glass from dishes and shattered windows shimmered in the morning sunlight.

With Shep at Shelby’s heels, they followed Liam through the living room. Their boots clomped against the hardwood floor and crunched the dried leaves blown in through the broken windowpanes. Dirt covered John’s plush recliner where he sat and smoked his pipe. She caught a faint whiff of the leafy tobacco scent as they carried his body past it.

Liam opened the front door and Shelby squinted against the sun bursting over the eastern horizon. Immense, white-topped Rocky Mountains guarded the west, and several inches of a frozen white blanket covered the ground. Their breath came in puffs, and icicles quickly formed on the inside of Shelby’s nose. The crisp, cold mountain air was a stark contrast to the stale basement.

Up there, by the stables, Shelby said.

Megan looked over her shoulder. What about the tracks?

Shelby shook her head. There isn’t anything we can do. We’ll try and circle back if we have time.

The stables are probably three or four miles away, Megan said.

We’ll make it, Shelby said and hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. Her arms already shook under the weight of the stretcher. Their boots crunched the frozen snow and ice with each step. Even on flat land, Shelby’s legs wobbled, and Megan struggled to keep her footing.

Single file, Liam, Shelby huffed. Always single file. They were less visible that way.

Liam walked in front clutching a butterfly knife John had given him in one hand and a gas can in the other. He flipped the knife back and forth so the blade slid in and out of the handle. The metal hinges of the knife squeaked and clicked.

Liam, Shelby said. Put the butterfly knife away.

Liam looked over his shoulder and scowled at her. Dad lets me. And it’s called a balisong knife. He lost his footing, stumbled, and slipped. The knife clamored against the metal gas can, and the thunderous clash resonated throughout in the snow muffled world.

Liam, Shelby hissed. Put the knife away!

Liam shoved the knife into his pocket and sulked.

Liam, Shelby huffed out of breath. Liam, it’s just…we need to be quiet.

Liam didn’t turn around or respond; he just kept walking. Shep whined and stayed close to him.

The pine trees in the distance waited with their needled arms outstretched. Shelby scanned the horizon. No movement. No noise. Even their footsteps became muffled as the ice turned into powdery snow. No noise meant there was nothing to drown out John’s voice in her head.

Do you remember me teaching you how to build a fire at the lake? John whispered. His breath hot against her ear and his voice barely audible over the Host screams. I dug the graves, but it’s not enough to just bury a body, he said. You must burn it.

Shelby didn’t respond and shrunk against the wall away from him. Away from his constant preparedness. She didn’t want to be prepared. She didn’t want to live in this world.

Air must get under the body to keep the fire going.

Fists pounded in her head. She shook her head to drown out his voice. She didn’t want him to continue then, and she didn’t want to hear the echo of his voice now. He was the reason they were there. It should have been over for them long ago. Now she carried his dead body to where she would burn it and bury it.

Shelby’s lungs were on fire and her gloved fingers wrapped around the metal poles were frozen stiff. Even through the thick padding, she could feel the blisters forming. They trudged on.

Are we almost there? Megan panted. I need a break to take my coat off.

Shelby looked up. Just before the pine tree grew thick and the hill shot up into a mountain, four empty graves waited like wide-open mouths waiting to be fed. Al..almost there, Shelby gulped between deep breaths. Just a little further.

The weak sun shone directly over their heads as they climbed the last few yards. They set the stretcher down next to the graves and stood for a moment trying to catch their breaths.

Shelby handed Megan the water bottle. She tipped her head back and guzzled it.

Careful, don’t drink too much too fast, Shelby said. It’ll lower your body temperature.

Megan held out the water bottle to Liam. Liam.

He shook his head.

Megan rattled the bottle. It’ll make you feel better.

Liam shook his head. I’m not thirsty.

Drink some, Shelby commanded.

He didn’t say anything but took the bottle and took a long swallow.

Shelby peered down into the graves. John dug them about six feet deep. Severed roots stuck out of the frozen mud sides, and a light dusting of snow covered the bottom. Nothing would be worse than the body not burning. Let’s get some of those dried needles and pinecones under the trees that don’t have snow on them.

Liam set the gas can down and helped them toss handfuls of kindling into the grave until a layer of brown pine needles, leaves, and pinecones covered the snow.

Megan and Shelby tied a rope around the body. They each stood on one side and together they lifted the body. The body rolled and threatened to slip. Shelby clenched her teeth and stumbled trying to balance the body.

Megan gasped. Please no.

Liam covered his eyes and turned away.

The body steadied. Megan exhaled in relief. Shelby’s arms shook, and her hands were numb, but together, with the thread on the rope cutting into her palms, they managed to lower John into the grave.

Shelby tossed her end of the rope into the grave. It landed across the body with a slap. She turned and took a few steps up the steep incline. Her boot skated across the ice and the earth fell away. She landed hard on her hip and slid down the hill toward the hungry grave. She grasped at the ground. Her hand closed on dirt, dead weeds, and dried pine needles, but nothing that would stop her descent. She slid closer to the hole. Closer to the cold. Closer to the body. Shelby cried out.

Mom, Megan cried and ran to Shelby’s side.

Megan grabbed Shelby’s wrist and stopped her descent just before she fell into the grave. Her feet dangled over the edge of the grave. Shelby lay face down, breathing the musty earth smell in and trying to slow her jackhammering heart.

Mom! Megan cried and tugged on Shelby’s arm

Shelby pushed herself to her hands and knees and gulped in air.

Are you all right? Megan asked.

Shelby stood up on shaky legs and nodded.

Liam waited next to the grave with his arms limp at his sides. The gas can still clutched in one hand. Without saying anything, Shelby took it from him and splashed the liquid all over John’s body. She sniffed the flammable fumes and struck a match. She hesitated a moment, then let the match fall into the grave. Flames exploded in a whoosh and greedily engulfed the body.

Megan’s sobs came in great gulps. She hugged her chest and looked ready to collapse.

Large tears rolled down Liam’s face. He inched closer to Shep and rested a hand on the dog’s head. Shep whined and licked Liam’s hand.

The flames popped and sparked. They called her. Shelby fell to her knees. They danced and mesmerized her. She peeled off her gloves and reached out to them. A flame swirled and lapped at her hand. Her fingers tingled with the heat and her cheeks grew warm. Hot acrid smoke, thick with a meaty scent, filled her lungs. She leaned in closer and stretched her fingers out. Her locket hung over the fire and the silver chain around her neck grew warm.

Can you feel the heat? Shelby licked her lips. It’s so warm… She listened to the fire roar and turned her hand back and forth over the flames. Black smoke thickened with ash billowed out of the grave. Isn’t it beautiful? Shelby asked and looked up.

Megan was racked with sobs, but Liam’s gaze was locked on Shelby’s face. He stared at her with his blue eyes wide and his face twisted in fear and disappointment.

Shelby snatched her hand back and sat back on her heels. The locket fell against her chest and singed her skin. Shelby had seen it. Liam knew she would rather be dead than here. She’d rather be burned in flames than freeze another day with them.

Liam, she started, but her son turned away from her. Her heart sank and she scrambled to her feet. Liam, she whimpered again. I’m sorry…

Liam picked up the gas can and started to walk back down the mountain.

Chapter 2

By the time the flames dwindled and the mountain air was filled with the pungent stench of burnt meat, a storm started to rage. Gray clouds hid the sun and the wind whipped thick sheets of snow sideways.

Shelby dragged the empty stretcher behind her and pushed against the winds force with her face buried in the crook of her elbow. A sudden gust grabbed the stretcher like a sail and snatched it from her hand. It tumbled down the hill until it settled against a snowdrift.

Shelby cried out and twisted around just in time for another angry blast of razor sharp ice to slam her in the face. She grunted and fell hard on her hip. Megan called out, but Shelby couldn’t understand what she was saying over the storm.

Shep bounded from Liam’s side, through the snow, and barked next to her face. It was as if he was telling her to hurry and get up. We are running out of time, Shep seemed to say.

Megan appeared next to her and thrust out her hand. She pulled Shelby to her feet. That was the second time today her daughter helped her up.

Shelby looked around. She could only see a few yards through the whiteout conditions, and even then, she could only make out dark outlines. Nothing looked familiar. The weak sun would set soon, leaving them in complete darkness, possibly lost.

We’re not going to make it, Shelby shouted. We need to find cover.

Megan’s face fell and her eyes darkened.

Shelby spun around searching. She blinked against the bits of ice. There! she hollered and pointed to a small structure barely visible through the blowing snow. That’s our best shot.

Megan took a few steps toward the stretcher.

Leave it, Shelby called out and turned toward the structure. Sharp pains shot down her leg with each step. She limped and moaned. Even without the storm, Shelby wasn’t sure how far she could make it.

They pressed on, fighting the storm with every footstep until they stood in front of what appeared to be a typical backyard shed, maybe eight feet by ten feet. It had no windows and the roof seemed intact, but the lower half of the door had a gaping hole where someone desperate for fuel, or desperate to