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    Virus The Unknown: Dying Hope, #1
    Virus The Unknown: Dying Hope, #1
    Virus The Unknown: Dying Hope, #1
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    Virus The Unknown: Dying Hope, #1

    By Larry Finhouse

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    Brody had always wanted to live like the rich kids did, with their hot meals and shiny cell phones. Unfortunately, life had other plans for him and his sister Pippa. Struggling to pick up the pieces after their father’s mysterious death and coping with their mother’s drug use and her abominable new boyfriend, the children felt even more removed from hope. In this thrilling debut novella, Brody and Pippa are about to learn to rely on a completely different set of survival mechanisms — a set that would keep them alive while horror, a virus that slowly poisons the human brain, tears apart their small town. Amid the outbreak, tales of fright breed and people begin using the word zombie — something Brody, even though young, thinks is foolish.

    The horror and fun starts here.

    Dying Hope: Episode 1 (approximately 70+ pages)

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLarry Finhouse
    Release dateAug 14, 2014
    ISBN9781502282019
    Virus The Unknown: Dying Hope, #1

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      Book preview

      Virus The Unknown - Larry Finhouse

      Virus The Unknown

      Larry Finhouse: self-publishing © 2014

      Season 1 of Dying Hope

      Episode 1

      Table of Contents

      ––––––––

      1

      2

      3

      4

      5

      6

      7

      8

      9

      10

      11

      12

      About the Author

      When hope is busy dying, you should run and you should hide. But whatever you do, don’t pray for hope.

      – Season 1 of Dying Hope

      1

      ––––––––

      Brody looked up at the sky, letting his gaze linger, and then rummaged through his pocket.

      Hey, what’s that– She grabbed for his hand and missed. Lemme see.

      No. He rubbed his thumb over the rusted pocket watch; the initials P.L faded under a layer of scratch marks. It’s amazing how time can strip away color, he thought. He looked up. The sun was nowhere to be seen. It hid behind a blanket of incoming gray.

      Wind galloped through the forest. The breeze, a cold kiss on the neck, swept her hair up. As the leaves rustled and the wind whistled, she looked at his hand and licked her lips.

      His hand jerked and the watch was gone. With mouth open, he looked at her little legs motoring away. Pippa, come back! He knew she wouldn’t run far; it was only a matter of time until she’d turn. He stood still. He smiled when he realized it hadn’t been the wind making that strange noise but her squealing laughter. He crossed his arms. She zigzagged forward, dodging trees as if it were a game, thinking she was being chased. He began tapping his foot. She’s going to turn any minute. Her body disappeared behind a thicket of trees. Oh, Pippa. He chuckled and glanced around. There wasn’t any good place to sit, so he planted his behind on a heap of leaves. As the leaves cracked beneath him, he gazed at the tree ahead. He could see her shirt, a dirty pink, trying to hide. He scooped a handful of leaves and began flicking each one. If she wanted to play, then she could play, as long as she doesn’t head out too far.

      Pippa, he muttered, I can see you. Her shirt disappeared. And reappeared. He flicked another leaf and frowned. He looked at his hand. On the edge of the newly born autumn leaf trickled the strangest liquid; it was dark in color and rich in scent. He smelled his finger and winced. It reminded him of a handful of coins. He wiped the copper stench on his trousers and threw the leaf away.

      Okay, Pippa, you can come out now. She was still standing there, frozen, acting like she was invisible. His stomach burped. He lifted his shirt and looked at his milky ribs. We’ll have to, he patted his stomach, get back soon. He thought about dinner and contemplated skinning Fred tonight. He closed his eyes and imagined picking up the knife. He was going to have to suffocate him first, then take the sharp end of the knife and start at his throat, then make a small cut, then wiggle the knife into his throat, and then pull the knife down. All that red blood. He was going to have to tap it into a bucket and save it for later. He nodded. And let’s not forget about mother, Magna. Need to feed her, too.

      He stood up and brushed his knees. Okay, I’m leaving. He waited for a few seconds and scratched the back of his neck. A breeze lashed through the forest. Her shirt disappeared. A stream of leaves rustled past his feet. The wind lashed again. Branches snapped in the distance. He could hear them crash around. A shadow, large enough to engulf everything, washed over him. He looked at the sky and saw darker clouds eat lighter ones. They needed to go. Can’t be getting wet when there’s no hot water back at home. Her pink shirt appeared. He shook his head and called for her, telling her that he was leaving. He began walking in the opposite direction.

      Soil tickled across his face. He scratched his eyes and sneezed a string of snot. He put it in his mouth and licked his fingers. He wiped his hand on his shirt and swung his body around. He had enough of waiting around. Playtime was over. The pink shirt waving at him was like a red flag to a bull. His jaw tightened. So did his fists.

      Pippa! The shirt didn’t move. If you don’t come now, I’ll, I’ll, I’ll tell mother about this. You know what she’s like. He knew he was lying; he would never tell Magna about this. Last time he complained about his sister, she stumbled out of bed, picked up a broken bottle, and then stabbed Pippa in the leg. For a few days he thought his sister was going to die. The blood. So much blood.

      She disappeared behind the tree. What’s she doing? It was as if she wanted to make him angry. He glanced away. The forest was becoming something else. Trees were giving birth to long shadows, leaves travelled in packs, and branches snapped; the voice of the forest. He was going to kill her, he thought. He began walking back. He was halfway toward the tree when he stopped. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but chose not to. A feeling he didn’t like travelled up his legs. He reached for his waist and unbuckled his knife. Pippa’s shirt (a piece of it) flew past. He licked the insides of his mouth and swallowed. He ran for the tree.

      His eyes shot wide and the knife fell from his hand. He quickly picked it up. The tree in front of him still had a piece of her clothing attached to it. He plucked it from the branch and rubbed his hand across the cloth. She must’ve run past it and ... he didn’t want to think about it. He tucked the cloth into his pocket and ran down the embankment.

      He wasn’t aware of his breathing until he stopped five minutes later. He leaned forward and held his knees. While trying to refill his lungs for another sprint, he craned his neck up and saw her standing not far away. But he was wrong, he saw that now; it was only his imagination playing. He was looking at a shadow on a tree. He took a deep breath and shouted. He cocked his head hoping to hear any returning sounds, but nothing came. He looked to his left; trees were shivering off leaves. He looked in front; it was a maze of wooden poles. He looked to his right, just more trees. He held his eyes. Everything went dark. If anything had happened to his sister, he might as well run away from home. His mother would skin him alive. She doesn’t like it when they do stupid stuff. He imagined her climbing from

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