by Perrin Briar
“No,” Patrick said.
His voice was rough and raspy, worn and weak with hours of use.
“Do you think we’ll get through to anyone?” Hamish said.
“We won’t if we don’t keep trying,” Patrick said.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Hamish said, slapping Patrick on the back.
Hamish surveyed the mood of those remaining. There was a general feeling of malaise, like a thick blanket. Their immune systems would be weak and shot to shit. They wouldn’t be able to fight off a virus or any other infection well. They needed to be bright and positive, though that was difficult with the oppressive darkness and raging storm outside.
“What can we do for Jeff?” Daniel said.
“We could give him drugs,” Hamish said. “Things to help boost his immune system. There’s no guarantee it would work, but it won’t do any harm either. It might slow the virus down. But otherwise…”
“Nothing?” Kate said. “There’s nothing we can do?”
“What did you expect?” Hamish said. “With the facilities we’ve got, the limited time…”
“Then what do we do with him?” Kate said.
“We keep him locked in his room until help comes,” Hamish said. “Scientists and doctors might be able to come up with some kind of treatment for him.”
“A treatment for death?” Kate said.
“This isn’t death,” Hamish said.
“We give him a choice,” Daniel said. “The same choice to anyone who gets infected. We give him a quick death or he takes his chances in one of the empty rooms.”
“Oh, man,” Patrick said, running his hands through his hair. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this. This… This isn’t human.”
“It’s the situation we’re in,” Hamish said. “They’re not human after they turn. It has to be done.”
“Then you do it,” Carl said. “I can’t do this.”
“We have to be together in this if we’re going to do it,” Kate said. “We have to back one another up.”
“You back him up,” Carl said. “I don’t want any part of it.”
“Me neither,” Patrick said, turning back to the radio and repeating his message.
“How long do we have after we’re infected before we turn into one of those things?” Carl said.
“So far as we can tell, based on the others who turned and the rate of change in Ian’s blood,” Hamish said, “about eight to nine hours.”
“Eight hours,” Carl said, disbelieving. “Well, it beats getting slammed into by a bus, doesn’t it?”
The attempt at levity fell flat. Carl turned and marched away.
“Sorry about him,” Kate said. “He can be highly strung.”
“I don’t blame him,” Hamish said. “This is a nightmare.”
Carl stood at the opposite end of the common room, beside Patrick at the controls of the radio.
“I’ve been thinking about Dr. Scott,” Kate said, lowering her voice. “Do you think he was infected too?”
“What do you mean?” Daniel said.
“I mean, he committed suicide, right?” Kate said.
“He’s not dead,” Daniel said.
“All right,” Kate said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But he wouldn’t have ended himself if there wasn’t need. We thought he might have done it because he had cancer or a serious illness. What’s more serious than an eight-hour death sentence?”
Hamish nodded.
“It makes sense,” he said. “Him leaving all the bubbleheads behind were a kind of suicide note. But then, if he knew he was infected, why didn’t he tell you all about it? That way, he could have prevented the virus from spreading.”
“Because he didn’t want to take the risk that it might infect us, that he was responsible,” Kate said.
“What about the specimen?” Daniel said. “And all the documents? Why would he destroy all those?”
“I don’t know,” Hamish said.
“I still don’t understand why he wouldn’t come to us for help,” Daniel said. “Jeff might have had something to help him.”
“Because maybe he knew it was something serious, perhaps even life threatening,” Kate said. “He might not have known what he had, but he knew enough to know there was no cure. Hamish said he saw Ian throwing up outside. Maybe Dr. Scott was doing the same. If it was blood…”
“Then maybe he deliberately killed himself to protect us all,” Daniel said.
They all sat in silence, processing the information.
“He was a hero,” Daniel said. “With no cure, and if it was as deadly as he thought it was, it was the only way to ensure none of us caught it.”
“What was Dr. Scott working on before he left?” Hamish said.
“I’ve told you,” Daniel said. “The ice cores. The same thing he’s been working on for the past couple weeks.”
“You said someone found a fossil,” Hamish said. “Buried in the snow.”
“That’s right,” Daniel said.
The idea was just beginning to sprout in Hamish’s mind, blooming to its logical conclusion. Hamish leaned forward and spoke in a conspiratorial voice.
“Isn’t it possible something was inside that fossil?” Hamish said. “Something still alive?”
Kate’s eyes moved to the side, in the direction of Dr. Scott’s former office.
“If something was inside it, had managed to survive all those years…” Hamish said.
Daniel shook his head.
“The fossil we found couldn’t have survived all those years,” he said. “It was dead. The longest a fish species could survive in suspended animation is decades.”
“Not the specimen itself,” Hamish said. “Something inside it. A virus.”
“Oh my God,” Kate said, wrapping a hand over her mouth. “That’s it! That’s why Dr. Scott took it with him. To protect us. If there was something inside the fossil, then maybe he found it. It infected him. He was the first. Patient zero.”
“It’s a nice theory,” Daniel said. “But where’s the evidence?”
“Dr. Scott took it with him to his grave,” Kate said. “That’s why he took the specimen with him. So we wouldn’t find the virus or get infected ourselves.”
“He’s not dead,” Daniel said reflexively. “I meant the evidence on the computer systems or paperwork. I found nothing about the fossil, or any virus inside it.”
“Maybe Dr. Scott wanted no record of it and deleted it all,” Kate said.
“That doesn’t sound like Dr. Scott,” Daniel said. “The Dr. Scott I know wouldn’t have deleted information like that. He was always planning forward, preparing for the worst. He would have wanted the world to know about a new virus, to protect themselves against it. And if he was infected, I would have noticed. I would have noticed he was sick and dying.”
“Not if the virus works fast,” Kate said. “What if Dr. Scott knew he had hours, not days? What if Dr. Scott only learned about it shortly after he’d contracted it? What if he knew he didn’t have much time to research and find a cure… Which is why he went away, taking the fossil with him, so neither he nor the virus were discovered. He locked the door knowing we wouldn’t enter, giving time for the virus to die, so none of us would be infected.”
“Hamish, when you searched through Dr. Scott’s files did you see anything about the fossil or the virus?” Kate said.
“No,” Hamish said. “Only a few early reports describing the fossil. Photographs. Nothing concrete.”
“But he worked on it for a few days,” Kate said. “He was convinced it was going to be a big new discovery – he’d even had Carl make him a new figurine for his collection. There should have been something to show for all that time and work.”
“Whatever it was, if there was anything at all,” Daniel said, “it’s long gone now.”
“Assuming this is true,” Hamish said. “What do we do now?”
“We need to know with certainty who among us is infected an
d not infected,” Kate said.
“That’s relatively easy,” Hamish said. “We just need a blood test.”
Z-MINUS: 1 hour 59 minutes
Hamish extracted the blood from Patrick’s arm, who rubbed the puncture hole.
“That hurt!” Patrick said.
“Don’t be such a baby,” Hamish said, handing him a cotton bud.
Patrick bent his arm at the elbow.
“When do you think you’ll have the results?” he said.
“Within a few minutes,” Hamish said.
“That fast?” Patrick said.
“It’s not difficult to identify,” Hamish said.
“I’ve got a bad feeling I’m infected,” Patrick said.
“We’ll soon see,” Hamish said. “In the meantime, try not to worry too much.”
“How can I not worry?” Patrick said. “Knowing I’ll turn into one of those things if I’m infected.”
“We’ll take care of you,” Hamish said.
“Like we did with Ian?” Patrick said with a scowl.
Hamish looked toward the empty doorway.
“Keep your voice down,” he said. “Kate already feels bad about it. Hopefully you’re not already infected. Can you send Kate in, please?”
Patrick scrunched up his mouth. He wasn’t happy about being kept waiting for his test result. Hamish put Patrick’s vial of blood into the tray beside his own. By looking at them you couldn’t tell if someone was infected. Hopefully that meant no one was. With any luck, that would turn out to be the case.
Kate entered. She took a seat and pulled up her sleeve.
“Everyone’s nervous,” she said.
“There’s no need to be,” Hamish said automatically.
He prepared a needle, inserted it into Kate’s arm, and drew blood.
“There is another solution to all this,” Kate said. “I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want Daniel to overhear.”
“Hear what?” Hamish said.
Kate checked over her shoulders for prying ears.
“Maybe Dr. Scott did it on purpose,” she said.
“Did what on purpose?” Hamish said.
“Infected Ian,” Kate said. “He could have left something here, for Ian to find, so he would catch it.”
“Then why would he leave?” Hamish said. “If he just stayed here, everyone would catch it.”
“Maybe he set up a system so everyone would catch it later,” Kate said. “So he wouldn’t have to be here for when everyone died.”
“And the specimen?” Hamish said. “Why would he take that with him?”
“So we wouldn’t be able to make a cure in time,” Kate said. “We’d only have what an infected person had left behind in their blood, and by then it would be too late.”
Hamish would never have believed Kate was capable of such dark thoughts before. It was deeply disturbing if at all true. It was a compelling argument, direct from the imagination of mystery thriller writers.
There was no denying all the pieces fit. There was only one question Hamish had no answer for…
“Is Dr. Scott capable of such a thing?” Hamish said.
“Up till yesterday I didn’t think dead things could get up and start walking around again, but here we are,” Kate said. “Whenever a maniac does something in the world, people are told afterwards and can never believe it was their neighbor that had done it. We know Dr. Scott as a professional, a scientist, but we never knew him on the inside. Who knows what he was capable of.”
“Then we can never really know anyone,” Hamish said. “And anyone is capable of anything.”
“No,” Kate said. “No one can ever really know anyone. Look at all the infidelity happening in the world. Do you think any of their partners could believe they would marry someone who could do that to them? No. Because they don’t know everything that goes on in their minds, behind their eyes, and no one ever can.”
Hamish had to admit, it was at least possible. Who was to say what anyone was capable of given certain extreme circumstances? People were only as reliable as their options.
“The good news is he only had a limited amount of time to make his plans,” Hamish said. “It might be all we need to figure this out.”
Hamish could imagine the old man now, preparing to dispose of the virus, looking into the mirror at himself. The thoughts that must have gone through his mind…
“However he did it – if he did it – he would have known a virus dies within twenty-four hours outside the body, unless its frozen or contained in some other way,” Hamish said. “If you were going to try to ensure a virus spread from this place, how would you do it? The one thing we have in our favor is he had less than eight hours between when he was infected and when he had to instigate his plan. He wouldn’t have had time to come up with anything complicated. But how was he going to infect us all from beyond the grave? And why would he want to infect us all? It doesn’t make sense. Everyone here describes him as a father figure. There’s no reason to suppose he didn’t feel the same way toward the rest of you.”
Kate nodded, her eyes drifting to the floor.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “It was just an idea.”
Kate left, and Daniel entered.
“Where do you want me, Doc?” he said.
“Just on the chair there,” Hamish said as he prepared another needle.
“Any idea who’s infected yet?” Daniel said.
“Not yet,” Hamish said.
“Everyone’s very nervous,” Daniel said.
“They’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” Hamish said. “Not until we get everyone’s results.”
“Who’s going to do your results?” Daniel said.
“I am,” Hamish said.
Daniel extended his arm. Hamish swabbed Daniel’s main artery with alcohol and inserted the needle. He drew Daniel’s blood.
“Do you have to take so much?” Daniel said.
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Hamish said.
He handed Daniel a cotton bud to press to the puncture hole, wrote ‘Daniel’ on the label and attached it to the vial. He put the vial in the holder alongside the others.
“How long before you get the results?” Daniel said.
“I’ll get the results now,” Hamish said.
A scream. Down the corridor. Kate skidded, sliding to a stop in front of Hamish’s office door.
“A zombie!” Kate said. “I think it’s Jeff!”
“Get Patrick,” Hamish said. “Tell them to bring blunt weapons. We’ll push him back into his room.”
Kate took off at a run. Hamish turned to Daniel.
“I’m going to need your help,” he said.
“But I’m injured,” Daniel said, showing the cotton bud on his arm.
Hamish handed Daniel a chair leg, and kept one for himself.
“We’re going zombie hunting,” he said.
They entered the corridor, but this time, now that Hamish had someone at his back, he didn’t feel quite so nervous. It was like he’d been transported into a different genre, from horror to adventure, like the Alien and Aliens movies. But the grip around his chair leg belied the angst he felt. He edged down the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was going through this again. He only hoped there was less death this time.
He was to be disappointed.
The groan was low and reverberated loudly. The storm outside seemed to quieten down for them to be able to hear it clearly, to make the situation even more terrifying. The figure wasn’t nearly so hard to find this time. He was standing in the middle of the corridor. How did these guys always manage to escape? They were undead Houdinis.
The figure’s back was to them. It wasn’t going to be hard to shove Jeff back inside his room. Except he’d staggered farther up the corridor, and seemed to be staring at nothing in particular, his jaw working overtime chewing on something akin to cud. The heavy footsteps of Kate and Patrick rushed up behind them, gaining the attention o
f the figure before them.
Oh, great.
The figure began to turn, slowly, as if his neck had no independent movement. His eyes latched onto Hamish, the slow dawn of realization sweeping over him. There was an all-you-can-eat buffet right in front of him. His dry torn lips peeled back from his missing teeth, sharpened by something that had turned them into short stubby spikes, no doubt due to his effort in gnawing his way out of his prison. Perhaps that had been how he’d escaped… They would have to reinforce the door next time.
“Keep back,” Hamish said. “We’ll drive him back into his own room again.”
They edged backward like they were part of some kind of conga line. The undead leaned forward and picked up the pace, racing faster toward them. Too fast. They weren’t running backward fast enough.
“Faster!” Hamish said. “Quick!”
They turned and ran, but the undead was already upon Hamish. He instinctively raised his weapon. Undead Jeff fell upon it like a rabid dog. There was the crunch of wood as his teeth tore into it, and then another creaking sound as it was torn out of Hamish’s grasp.
The creature tasted it – actually tasted it – and didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with it until it spat it out, letting it fall to the floor in a sloppy chewed mess. It gritted its teeth, ignoring the splinters in its lips and gums, and came at Hamish again.
But Daniel was already moving forward, pushing back against the undead, forcing him into his previous cell. He thrust hard, and the creature stumbled. The bed took out his legs so he fell backward onto the desk.
Hamish slammed the door shut. He could see the bite marks where the monster’s teeth had worried at it. He braced the door with his shoulder, preparing to have to rebuild a part of the door from the monster having chewed through it…
Only it didn’t need rebuilding. The creature had clearly been chewing on it, but not enough for the lock to have come loose. The undead struck the door on the other side, forcing it back an inch before Hamish could close it again.
Kate bent down, picked up the padlock, and handed it to Hamish. He slipped it through the lock and snapped it closed. The undead beat on the door, sending the padlock rising and falling like a rasping tongue.