By J. F. Gonzalez
The 1st wave used to be just the start . . . the us is in ruins. It has simply suffered one of many worst hurricanes in heritage, the folk are demoralized, and the president is a spiritual enthusiast. Then issues get rather undesirable - the Clickers go back. millions of the monsters swarm around the whole country and march inland, slaughtering a person and whatever they arrive throughout. yet this time the Clickers usually are not blindly speeding onto land - they're being led by way of an intelligence older than civilization itself. A strength that desires to take dry land clear of the mammals. these left alive quickly become aware of that they have to do every little thing and something they could to guard humanity - irrespective of the associated fee. this is not struggle, this can be extermination.
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Extra info for Clickers II: The Next Wave
More voices joined the chorus. A swimmer disappeared, yanked beneath the surface. Then another. One of the dark shapes swam beneath a teenager on a boogie board. A cresting wave blocked Milo’s vision for a second. When he looked again, the board’s two halves floated on the foam. His heart accelerated. Blowing into his whistle, Milo leaped from the lifeguard stand and ran towards the water, bare feet pounding through the blistering sand. “Everybody out! Get out of the water! ” Except that it wasn’t a shark.
He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I got in last night. I…I can hardly stand being here, being so close to the ocean. I mean, I know it’s a good two or three hour drive to the nearest beach, but that’s too close for me and—” “I understand,” Melissa said, and he immediately knew this to be the truth. In the years that had passed since Phillipsport they’d talked about this fear often. Melissa had developed a fear of the ocean too, but hers wasn’t as pervasive as his. Rick couldn’t even stand looking at a picture of the ocean.
May asked, her eyes wide. He nodded. “They’re over fifteen minutes late. Not a good start. Take care of yourself, May. ” Without waiting for a response, he left the house, wondering if he’d ever see home again. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 5:10 PM The cell phone was registered to a William S. Mark, as were the credit card and drivers license in his wallet, but that wasn’t his real name. He still thought of himself as Rick Sychek. Even now, when people called him William, it took Rick a moment to realize they were talking to him.
Clickers II: The Next Wave by J. F. Gonzalez