Noah's Ark: Contagion (23 page)

“It’s so…violent!”

“So’s the virus. The remedy needs to be just as powerful if it’s to beat such a potent opponent.”

“What happens to the antiviral when it’s killed every trace of the virus? Isn’t there a danger it could attack healthy host cells?”

“No, that can’t happen,” Vardy said confidently. “The influenza vaccine we used is made with a deactivated virus. It poses no risk to normal healthy cells.”

“How sure are you of that?”

“One hundred percent. I think we should move directly to testing this on a patient.”

“Whoa, hang on there. This stuff just came out of the machine. One test on old blood is hardly conclusive. We need more proof it’s not dangerous before we start injecting people.”

“Doctor Chalmers, we don’t have time. If we were back in a regular lab, under normal circumstances, then of course I would agree with you. But we’re not. People are already dying, and those are the edge cases: the old, frail, and those who were already sick. Another few hours and the others are going to start dying too. We’re going to be dealing with hundreds of deaths at a time. We have to try this now. We cannot afford to wait a moment longer.”

Before Janice could protest, there was a knock at the door. She opened it just a crack; they didn’t want visitors in the lab unnecessarily. She recognised the woman outside as one of the most recent draft of nurses.

“So sorry to disturb you, Janice, but we thought you should know. Kiera, the nurse? One of the first infected? She’s in a very bad way. Her ears are bleeding, her hair has almost all fallen out. I don’t think she’s got long left. If your miracle cure is ready, she needs it right now.”

Janice took a deep breath and looked at the nurse. She looked dead on her feet. “Okay, we’ll be up there soon,” she said, and closed the door gently.

“Well I guess you’re going to get your way, Surgeon Lieutenant Vardy. It looks as if circumstances are pushing us into live clinical trials here, whether we’re ready or not.”

“It’s the right thing, Janice. Trust me, it will be fine. Look, let’s get another batch into the machine before we go. We need this thing running twenty-four seven making antiviral.”

• • •

There was a final door for Jake to try. He had reached the end of the tunnel. Of course, he hadn’t explored fully in the other direction, but his rapidly deteriorating condition suggested he never would. Not without some kind of miracle or medication, anyway.

The last door was different to the others. For one thing, it wasn’t set into the side of the tunnel wall. It was head-on, facing him as he reached the end. For another thing, this door was much wider; the full width of the tunnel. This was an entry or exit that was designed for passing heavy equipment, or a lot of people in one go.
 

There was no simple handle to open it. Indeed there was not, at first glance, any visible means of opening it at all. Jake studied it for a while. He felt very dizzy. His new set of wheels had got him further and faster than he’d managed before, but his energy level was at an all-time low nonetheless. He could feel his body using all of its resources to try and fight off the virus. The battle going on inside was also creating heat, a lot of heat, and the wetsuit provided no ventilation, which just made matters worse. The team had brought bottles of water with them, but those had been left in the crate on level three. Nobody had thought, in the heat of the moment, to leave anything for Jake. He could almost have killed for a swig of ice-cold water. His mind wandered, thinking about how sweet it would taste, how cooling it would be as it trickled down his throat. The trickle of water turned into a cascade, and he found himself standing under a waterfall. The cold water pounding against his skin felt incredible, refreshing, revitalising. He looked up and saw a bright blue sky, dotted with tiny white clouds. Someone was near him, splashing around in the water with him. Was it Lucya? He tried to move, to get closer and take a look.

With a bump and a clang, he landed on the grated floor. He had lost his balance during the daydream. His head hurt, but he couldn’t tell whether it was from landing on it, or the virus attacking him.

For the first time, he considered giving up, right there. He told himself that the virus would kill them all soon anyway, that he was lucky. He would get to die peacefully in this place rather than in the chaos of a ship full of sick people all demanding attention.

And yet somewhere, deep inside him, a flame of hope still burned. Hope, and
faith
. Not a religious faith: that was something he’d never had. Rather, a faith in Doctor Russell Vardy. A faith in Doctor Janice Hanson, a faith in Lucya, Martin, Coote, and the rest of the crews of the
Spirit of Arcadia
and of HMS
Ambush
. There was still time. They had the machine. They could still make it. Giving up now would be to give up on them, and he knew they deserved better. He owed it to them to stay alive. They were working with every ounce of effort they could muster to save him, and all the others who had been infected. The least he could do was stay around to be saved.

With renewed motivation, he forced his eyes open and tried to push himself back up into a sitting position.

It was then that he first noticed the panel in the wall. He hadn’t seen it before, because he had been focussed on the door itself. The panel was on the right-hand wall, set a metre or so back from the door. Its purpose was in no doubt, because stencilled large in bright yellow paint, was a notice. It said simply:
“Push to Open.”

The panel was, of course, out of his reach. But not by much.

Jake had left his torch back in the generator room, but he still had his gas mask. Sitting as upright as he could, he held it by one of its two filters and tapped the panel with the other.

Nothing happened at all.

He tried again, tapping harder. The panel moved, although barely, recessing itself further into the wall. But still, nothing. It was as if it wanted to be pressed by a hand rather than an inanimate object.

Jake remembered the trolley. It was right behind him. He pushed it around so it was pressed against the opposite wall, and heaved himself back on board. Getting it turned round again was more of an effort, but he was a determined man and after a couple of false starts he found himself sitting next to the panel, just high enough to be able to reach it. He raised his hand, placed it in the centre of the rectangle, and pushed.

It looked like nothing was going to happen again, but then, from somewhere inside the wall, a deep rumbling sound emerged. In front of him, the huge door started moving, sliding upwards, right into the ceiling.

• • •

Had Kiera Stevens been in a better state, she might have objected to the audience gathered around her bed. Surgeon Lieutenant Russell Vardy, Doctor Janice Hanson, three nurses, including Mandy, who had been awoken from her delicious slumber by the commotion, and Lucya. They were all packed into the small stateroom in which Kiera and Barry had been laid up. As it was, Kiera was entirely oblivious to those watching on; she had long since lost consciousness. That was a blessed relief for her, because she was decaying fast. The nurse had not been wrong with her diagnosis. Kiera did not have much longer to live.

Vardy was trying to administer the antiviral, but it was not proving to be easy. Although Kiera was unconscious, her limbs were twitching, almost convulsing. It was as if the virus knew it was about to be attacked and had taken possession of her, making it nigh on impossible for the surgeon lieutenant to inject the drug. Even when he was able to grab an arm or a leg briefly, before it was snatched away by another involuntary muscular movement, he was having great trouble finding a vein. Her skin was covered in red blotches, some so deep they had become black. In places, the flesh was falling away completely.

“Doctor Hanson, I’m going to need some help here,” he said, frustration raising the pitch of his voice. “You need to hold down her arm long enough that I can get this in.”

Janice stepped forward. During her career as a forensic pathologist she had seen bodies that were in a terrible state. Burnt bodies, crushed bodies, decapitated bodies, even brutally beaten and half-eaten bodies. But every one of those bodies had had one thing in common: they had all been dead.

Kiera was a whole different matter. Her consciousness may have left her long ago, but the convulsions made it clear that this was a body very much still alive. Seeing a living human being in such a dreadful, awful state was almost more than she could bear.

Janice pulled the straps of her surgical mask tight, which helped to block the worst of the smell. She checked her latex gloves were on, and after a moment’s hesitation, made a grab for the arm. Kiera gave a moan, but Janice had got it, and she wasn’t letting go.

“Excellent,” Vardy said. “Try and keep it pinned down, and twist it a little away from me, so I have more chance of finding the vein.”

Janice did as she was asked, pushing the limb down onto the bed. Gripping the forearm with both hands, she rotated it carefully towards the two of them. There was a sound like an apricot being twisted open. Janice’s stomach turned as she felt Kiera’s flesh detach from the bone inside. She exclaimed, and dropped the arm, shaking her own hands as if they had somehow been soiled by the ripping flesh.

“Sorry,” she said from behind her mask. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.” She stepped forward again and tried to retake Kiera’s arm. One of the nurses grabbed the other arm furthest from the two doctors.

“This is ridiculous,” Vardy said, watching the body twist and contort. “I’m going directly for the heart. Can someone get her chest uncovered?”

Nobody made any move.

“Oh come on, someone!” Vardy was clearly losing patience. Reluctantly, Mandy came forward. There was no sheet covering Kiera, but she was wearing a gown that buttoned down the front. The nurse undid the first four buttons and pulled open the garment, revealing a chest that was every bit as blotched and blemished as the patient’s bare arms.

“Hold her down,” Vardy commanded. He gave the syringe a quick flick with his finger, then in one smooth and confident motion he plunged it into Kiera’s chest.

Janice couldn’t help but look away. As she did so she caught sight of Lucya doing the same.

“There, all done. Thank you people, you can let go now.”

Within seconds, the convulsions had stopped. Kiera lay motionless, save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

“Well, it hasn’t killed her yet, so that’s a good start,” Vardy said, trying to keep the atmosphere light. Nobody seemed to appreciate the comment.

“How long before we know?” Lucya asked.

“No idea, to be honest,” Vardy replied. “She’s a long way gone; it’s going to take time to see any real improvement. If she comes round, that will be an excellent sign, but I’m not counting on that. Realistically, if we see some of her normal colour return then we can assume we are winning.”

• • •

The massive door laboured away, rising inch by inch like a portcullis, taking forever to open. Beyond it lay a black abyss. Jake waited for a full minute, hoping that perhaps some lights would come on of their own accord.

“Hello!” He tried to shout, but found he was weaker than he thought. His voice made barely a sound.
 

Hesitantly, he pushed his trolley towards the darkness. No light from the tunnel spilled into the space behind the door. It was as if there was another reality beyond, a place disconnected from the rest of level four.

The front wheels reached the threshold. He paused, then with the biggest effort he could muster, pushed hard against the floor, launching the little chariot forwards.
 

As he passed through the opening, the sound of the trolley changed. No longer was he rolling on grated metal. Instead he was on something hard, something solid. He realised for the first time just how much noise he had been making as he had trundled down the tunnel. Now he rolled forwards in silence.

Jake suddenly felt very tired. The buzzing in his head had grown more intense. All he wanted to do was sleep, to escape the sickness that was invading every part of his body, attacking every cell.

Something beeped once behind him. Directly above him a fluorescent tube flickered, trying to illuminate. It took its time, blinking on and off, before eventually catching with a little ding. Further away, another light was also blinking to life, and another, and another. While Jake observed, a whole line of lights were coming on, apparently awoken by his presence. Either side of the first tube, two more rows were also bursting into action. And more each side of those. With every one, a little more of the space was illuminated.

He remained on his trolley, awestruck, as he watched the strange place wake up. He gazed left and right. He looked up, and down. In spite of the pain and the fatigue, a smile crept across his face. In that instant, Jake Noah knew that this base was to be their saviour. No longer did it matter that he would surely be dead when they eventually came back for him; this amazing, wonderful, incredible place was going to help save the rest of the human race.

Satisfied with his discovery, Jake rested his head against the handle of the trolley and let his heavy eyes close at last.

Twenty-Three

L
UCYA
HAD
FOLLOWED
Janice and Vardy back down to their deck one lab. They had waited and watched Kiera for half an hour, and she did indeed seem to be showing signs of improvement. Now the doctors had gone to check on their next batch of the antiviral remedy.

The three of them walked into the lab to find the machine beeping away impatiently.

“Looks like the next lot is ready,” Vardy said, silencing the equipment and removing the little jar of milky liquid. “This needs to be set aside; it’s the basis for replicating larger quantities.”

“What about the base liquid? You said we needed that, to make more?” Janice asked.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, it’s pretty common stuff.”

“Really? You think there will be some knocking around on a cruise ship?”