Z-Minus Box Set 2

by Perrin Briar

  “Worse,” Patrick said. “We’ll be subjected to a Superbowl final.”

  No internet. No contact with the outside world. They were on their own. All they had to keep them amused was the poor collection of secondhand videocassettes, DVDs and dog-eared books on a battered old shelf. The next day or so was going to be tough.

  “Here we are,” Lindsey said, bringing over a tray full of steaming hot chocolate. “One each. The one with the marshmallow is mine. My fee for making them.”

  “Wait,” Jeff said. “Is everyone here? We look short.”

  Everyone cast around, all coming to the realization at the same time.

  “Ian,” Daniel said. “Where is he? Who was last to see him?”

  “He went outside to check on the transmission equipment,” Patrick said.

  “What color coat does he wear?” Hamish said, a chill running through him.

  “What difference does that make?” Kate said.

  “Tell me,” Hamish said.

  “Purple,” Kate said. “He wears purple. Why?”

  Hamish suddenly felt very cold.

  Z-MINUS: 4 hours 36 minutes

  “I last saw him out by the immersion shed,” Hamish said. “He threw up, and then headed toward the other end of the center. I thought he’d come in via the back entrance. If he had, he’d be here by now.”

  “When?” Daniel said.

  “Just now,” Hamish said. “A few minutes ago.”

  Daniel turned to look at the others. A few minutes ago. It had a remarkable effect on those assembled. Guilty masks all round.

  “There’s still time,” Daniel said.

  “You can’t go out there!” Kate said. “We’re right in the middle of a storm! You’ll get lost and we’ll never find you again!”

  “You wish,” Daniel said. “I’m like a bad smell. I always come back.”

  “Don’t go out there,” Kate said, her voice serious and low.

  Daniel cupped a hand to her cheek.

  “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t at least try?” he said.

  Kate closed her eyes. She nodded. This was evidently the kind of thing he did.

  “But I could use a hand out there,” Daniel said. “The more eyes we have, the more likely we are to find him.”

  “You don’t honestly think I would let you go and have all the fun, do you?” Carl said.

  “I was counting on your selfish nature,” Daniel said with a grin.

  “I’m going too,” Hamish said.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Kate said.

  She sounded more surprised than upset this time.

  “I’m not being stupid,” Hamish said. “We should all do our part. I know if it were me out there I’d want everyone doing everything they could to help. And the longer we talk about it, the less likely it is we’ll be able to find him.”

  “I’ll go too,” Jeff said.

  “Everyone’s lost leave of their senses,” Lindsey said. “You can’t go out there.”

  “I can’t just stay here,” Jeff said. “He’s sick and alone out there.”

  “I’ll come too,” Kate said.

  “No,” Daniel said.

  “But-” Kate said.

  “No arguments,” Daniel said.

  Kate wasn’t the type to take orders, as her stubborn expression attested.

  “You stay here and keep the door open for when we get back,” Daniel said. “Please.”

  Hamish couldn’t help but think how much he might have liked Daniel under different circumstances. Kate nodded.

  They moved through to the main changing chamber at the opposite end of the center. It felt horrible putting the wet coveralls and boots back on. They were cold against Hamish’s skin, sapping the warmth his body had managed to harvest. Kate, Patrick, and Lindsey tied thick corded rope through metal loops on the men’s coveralls.

  “Are we ready?” Daniel said.

  The storm outside raged in response, the doors slapping and banging against its frame.

  “Here we go,” Daniel said.

  He opened the door. If Daniel had had a stronger grip it would have wrenched his shoulder from his socket. The world was white, slashed icy blue and black. The clouds were dark, thick and ominous, and ran like a river above their heads, blotting out the light.

  “Ten minutes,” Kate said. “After that, we’re pulling you all in.”

  Kate’s eyes moved over the men. Hamish thought they caught on Hamish’s. The mind sees what it wants to see.

  The wind was frigid, cold and hard, blasting them back with its mighty lungs. Daniel wrapped his hood over his head and stepped out into the storm.

  The others followed him, each breaking apart and heading off at a different angle. A variation of a few degrees could make all the difference. They headed away from the compound, away from all the buildings, in a westerly direction. It was the direction Hamish had last seen Ian heading in. With any luck he wouldn’t have wandered too far.

  The snow was already getting thick, up to Hamish’s ankles. Within a few seconds, Hamish lost sight of the other men. He could feel the slight tug on the back of his coat where the rope was attached. It must have been how a baby felt attached to an umbilical cord. He felt safer, secure.

  The howling wind filled his ears as it sandblasted his face. Then it switched positions, pushing him on the back, and then shifted again, from the side, causing him to stumble. Walking back toward the center wasn’t going to be much fun.

  Hamish kept his eyes open. He could hear his own breath in his ears. He kept going, sloshing his way through the snow. He was struggling, the events earlier on the snow mobile having taken their toll. He was exhausted.

  The ice clung to his eyelashes, making them stick together. The temperature dropped several more degrees. The wind sliced through him, cutting and biting. He pressed forward, leaning over at a forty-five degree angle, battling the wind and rain. He lifted his knees high to stomp over the mounting snow.

  Lightning flashed, closer. Hamish clamped his hands over his ears at the impending rumble of thunder. It thudded like Thor’s hammer.

  He cast around but could see nothing but walls of white. Ian had no chance. He could have been but a few feet away and Hamish would never have laid eyes on him.

  Panic rose in Hamish’s throat, clogging his airway. What if he met the same fate? He reached back to touch the rope attached to him, and curled his gloved hand around it. It felt warm with hope. He took several deep freezing cold breaths to calm himself. His heart returned to his chest.

  And then he saw something.

  A slight indentation in the snow.

  It was probably nothing, just the way the snow had fallen, but the rest of the snow looked like a desert’s rolling dunes, perfectly formed with no imperfections. But here and there, small round gaps. The snow had given way, removing any similarity to a human footprint it might have once resembled. The storm attempted to cover the tracks. It hadn’t done it fast enough.

  Perhaps someone had wandered through the storm, looking for the center that he knew should have been there, but wasn’t. He’d tried to orient himself, trying to find one of the buildings – any of them would have been fine – only he couldn’t. And now he was out in the middle of a blizzard with nowhere to go. No food or water, nor the energy to sustain him.

  Hamish followed them. The tracks were losing their potency, blurring around the edges. Hamish picked up the pace, powering through the snow, rushing after the tracks. But they were being wiped out faster than he could move. An invisible man’s footprints. And soon they were gone.

  He pressed forward a few more yards, but daren’t go any farther. Hamish turned left and right, unsure of which way to head.

  The indentations could have been an animal’s tracks, something fleeing the human settlement, or the storm.

  A flash of purple. Hamish’s heart leapt. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. But Hamish hadn’t imagined it. He was certain.

  He clambered
over the snow toward it. Or had he imagined it? Had his mind so desperately wanted to see the color that it had fabricated it?

  No. There it was again, a sliver of purple. Hamish moved toward it. It was getting larger. As he moved toward it, hope grew in his chest. He’d found him. He’d found Ian!

  Something tightened against his waist. The purple color was gone. He looked down and felt at what had pressed against him.

  It was a rope. A purple one.

  Attached to one of the other searchers. His own rope was orange. Whose had been purple? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter.

  The rope disappeared into the snowdrift in the same direction he’d been heading in when he was following the footprints. Had be been following one of the other searcher’s prints? Or had they too discovered the mysterious disappearing footprints?

  The rope in his hands grew slack. Either it had been cut, or the searcher it was attached to was heading toward Hamish. Either way, it meant Hamish should go check out this searcher in case he needed aid – aid because he was in trouble, or aid because he’d found something.

  A shape emerged out of the wall of white. Hamish’s breath hitched in his throat.

  Approaching him were a pair of figures. One was in yellow, the other in purple. The person in yellow was struggling under Ian’s weight. He staggered and collapsed. Hamish grabbed the yellow figure and helped him to his feet. A thin veneer of ice covered his face. It was Daniel.

  Hamish joined Ian on his other side, hooking Ian’s arm over his head and around his neck. Together with Daniel, they waded through the snow. Every few minutes, Daniel tugged on his rope. In response, it grew tight. A reliable way of knowing which way to go. They followed it into the thick white walls of the storm.

  The trip seemed to take forever. It might have done, for all the amount the scenery changed. This might have been hell, struggling against endless unbeatable odds, toward a goal that could not be achieved. Hamish’s breath rasped in his throat, his muscles protesting against every movement.

  A voice, distant and reaching.

  It was swept by the wind and could have come from anywhere. It seemed to be coming from his left. He turned to face it, but the voice only changed direction. Now it was coming from his right. It could have been a spirit. Except Hamish knew better.

  It was Kate. The center emerged, a dozen yards from where he thought it was. He was lucky to have seen it at all. Another yard and he would have missed it. Hamish dragged the figure toward the building, step by step, his footsteps already brimming with snow.

  Kate stood in the entrance. She didn’t waste time with hugs. Hamish could see the relief on her face. She turned and waved for him to follow her inside. The other searchers were already inside. They had their coats half-on, clearly preparing to head out and shout Hamish and Daniel’s name as Kate had done, but now they shrugged them off and helped the three men inside.

  Hamish’s whole body was wracked with pain. He could hardly keep his own feet. He fell to his knees, breaths deep rasping gasps like he’d become asthmatic. He felt like he was going to die. Someone kept pulling on his coat and helmet to remove them, but he waved them off. He just wanted to breathe. That was all that mattered. His body wanted to absorb every last molecule of oxygen it could, no matter the cost, and so he stayed there, on his hands and knees, for several minutes, before he finally allowed himself to move.

  He rolled back and looked up into the face of Daniel, who already had his coat and helmet off. He was breathing hard, but not struggling as Hamish was.

  Carl slapped Hamish and Daniel on the back as he passed, heading down the hall. Probably toward wherever they had taken Ian. Hamish had lost track of him, and everything else for that matter, the moment he’d fallen through the doors.

  A large hand reached down. Hamish looked up at its owner. Daniel had a broad grin on his face. Hamish took the hand and allowed Daniel to haul him up onto his feet.

  “You’ve got more in you than I thought,” Daniel said.

  “Thanks,” Hamish said.

  It was a backhanded compliment, but he supposed Daniel was entitled to it. He had just been on a date with his sort-of girlfriend, after all.

  They walked down the corridor toward the infirmary, where everyone else was gathered.

  “How’s he looking?” Hamish said.

  “Not good,” Kate said.

  Jeff wore a doctor’s coat, Lindsey a nurse’s uniform. Ian lay in bed, struggling, his arms flailing and striking the walls, the table, even Jeff. Ian’s exposed skin was blue, dead, rising up from under his heavy black boots, stretching up under his pants leg. His fingers were twisted and shriveled from the extreme cold. He was going to lose his hands and feet for sure, maybe even his arms and legs up to the knees and elbows. But the worst thing was his eyes.

  They were cloudy white, blinded by the snow. His mouth mawed open in a terrible death mask.

  Jeff glanced up and saw the others watching. He nodded at Lindsey. Without a word, she went over and shut the door.

  Perhaps leaving him out in the cold would have been a greater kindness.

  Z-MINUS: 4 hours 12 minutes

  Patrick paced up and down the common room, running his hands through his hair in a state of agitation. He kept shaking his head. The others were staring into space, the excitement of having found Ian now only a distant memory.

  The storm had only grown in strength, roaring like a terrible beast. There was no way a helicopter would come pick Ian up.

  A door down the corridor opened. It could only have been the infirmary. Everyone jumped to their feet and met Jeff and Lindsey.

  “How is he?” Patrick said. “Is he going to be all right?”

  Jeff and Lindsey dabbed at their brows with handkerchiefs. Evidently it had been quite an ordeal.

  “He has some kind of virus,” Jeff said.

  “A virus?” Daniel said. “What kind of virus?”

  “If I knew that, I’d know what was wrong with him, and how to treat him,” Jeff said.

  He handed a vial of blood to Hamish.

  “Hamish,” he said. “I took some of his blood. Run some tests. It might be useful to know what he has. All I can do until then is keep him comfortable. Has anyone else here been sick recently? Noticed any vomiting or nausea? Weakness or pain in the joints?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “If you do, come to the infirmary immediately,” Jeff said. “The last thing we need is for more of us to get infected.”

  “What’s going to happen to Ian?” Patrick said. “Is he going to get through this?”

  Jeff’s eyes were bloodshot and pained.

  “Only time will tell,” he said.

  Z-MINUS: 3 hours 56 minutes

  Hamish placed the slide under the microscope and peered through it at Ian’s blood. He turned the little focuser dial on the side. The image was fuzzy at first, and then clear, like taking an eye exam.

  The image reverted into a lake of red. Hamish could see the individual platelets doing the backstroke. They were not what he was expecting. Usually, the blood of a living person was jittering and constantly moving, a hive of activity. But Ian’s blood was sluggish and slow, like it was thickening. Such things only happened within clogged-up arteries, or the blood of a recent corpse. The cells were also turning black, wiped out and murdered by this virus.

  Then something even stranger happened.

  The cells were dead, but then they started moving again, jittering in place like belly dancers. Hamish dismissed what he was seeing. He clenched his eyes. He must have been tired. He was seeing things. He added a blob more of Ian’s blood to another slide and peered at it. He saw the same thing.

  That can’t be right…

  Hamish looked closer at the cells that were touched by the virus. They too stopped moving. Life was taken away, and then they too began to move again.

  Hamish gasped and pulled away from the microscope.

  “What?” Kate said. “What is it?”


  Hamish considered what he was seeing, running it through all the textbooks and lectures he’d experienced in the past. It was like everything he’d ever read and learned had suddenly been disproved, that two plus two didn’t equal four, that the Sun was not at the center of our solar system. And dead things didn’t always stay dead.

  “Take a look,” Hamish said, stepping aside.

  Kate gasped the same way Hamish had.

  “What?” Daniel said. “What is it?”

  “Take a look,” Kate said.

  “Just tell me,” Daniel said.

  “It’s Ian’s cells,” Kate said.

  “I figured that much out myself, thanks,” Daniel said. “What about them?”

  Kate’s eyes scrubbed left to right, thinking it through, putting into words what she’d just seen.

  “They die and come back to life,” she said.

  “They die and come back to life?” Daniel said. “So?”

  “So, things don’t work like that,” Kate said. “When something dies, it’s the end. It’s dead.”

  “I see,” Daniel said with a frown. He still didn’t get it.

  “The real question is, how did he contract the virus?” Hamish said.

  “Isn’t it more likely he brought something with him?” Kate said. “After all, he’s the only one infected.”

  “So far,” Hamish said. “We need to be sure how he contracted it. I’ve never seen a virus like this before. Reanimating dead cells? It’s unheard of.”

  “How will we find out how he got infected?” Daniel said.

  “It’s most likely Ian would have caught the virus here, from somewhere only he went,” Hamish said.

  “That follows,” Kate said. “Where would you suggest?”

  “His room,” Hamish said. “It’s the place he would have spent most time alone.”

  “I’ll go,” Kate said.

  “No,” Hamish said. “I’ll go. There’s no reason for both of us to risk getting infected. Besides, I’ve worked with the police before and picked up a few tricks.”

  Kate’s eyebrows drew down.