The Sapporo Outbreak (2 page)

"Onryō ... onryō ... onryō"

She stumbled backward, dropping the camera onto the hard floor with a crash. The doctor glanced toward the noise then swivelled back to Suni, and in a controlled voice asked that she prepare the patient for an emergency transfer to Hokkaido University Hospital. Kobayashi watched as Suni slowly shook her head. The blizzard outside has become too violent. The man will have to be treated here until the worst of the storm passes.
 

The doctor's reply was interrupted by a retching noise so loud it silenced the room. All eyes turned to the injured man, his head jerking unnaturally while he retched blood through his mouth and nose. The doctor grabbed the man and pulled him onto his left side while he convulsed violently - feet and arms flailing and catching the doctor painfully on the ribs.
 

After a few violent seconds, the man inhaled sharply - the rattle of blood and saliva echoing around the room - and just as suddenly as it began the convulsion stopped. The man slumped back to the table, his body limp as he exhaled - a long steady blood-bubbled sigh. And then silence.

Kobayashi looked on aghast at the scene unfolding in front of here. As the doctor and nurse frantically tried to revive the dead man, Kobayashi replayed in her mind the terrified whispers of a dying man.
 

She recognized the whispered name. As a child, her grandmother would tell her stories of a monstrous pale disheveled ghost that would rise up from the dark seeking vengeance for past deeds.

Stories of 'onryō'.

What in the hell had happened to this man?

#

6am Tuesday, Palo Alto, California (Minus 40 Hours)

Newly weds Ian and Sandra Brennan were doing well.

Very well.

The photogenic all-American couple was emerging as Silicon Valley's next 'power couple'. Smart, young and charismatic, they had quickly become wealthy through their work funding and by selling new technology startups to slightly older technology startups. Ian's MIT credentials and Sandra's Harvard-stamped financial pedigree were impressive, but it was their track record together that stood them apart.
 

By the time they were 25, they were multi millionaires, building and selling the first of three successful startups. By 30, they had cemented their reputation as Palo Alto's new alchemists and life was good. Their biggest problem was finding the time to enjoy their success together, instead of apart in the boardrooms, planes and five-star hotels of the world.
 

Which was why - on the rare occasions when they were both in town together - they'd start the morning with a dawn run around the beautiful Baylands nature preserve a few minutes from their multi-million dollar minimalist's dream. Fifteen miles of trails weaving through the 2,000 acres of undisturbed marshland in Palo Alto; the preserve was where they'd walked on their first date, where Ian had proposed six months ago and the site of their run this crisp winter morning.

Ian and Sandra jogged wordlessly through the nature trail, their hot breath rising through the morning air. Despite Sandra being the stronger runner, Ian ran ahead with Sandra close behind. She would often tease Ian about his need to lead - and Ian would reply that with his young wife's sense of direction, he was worried their morning run would turn into a swim.
 

Sandra could hear her husband up ahead as she navigated through some low hanging branches and into a leafy green opening. She loved this place. Birds gliding over the clear blue lake stretching into the distance, green vines rising up through the edge of the marsh.

Sandra slowed to a stop and called out to her husband. "Hold on a minute." Ian stopped and turned back to his wife.
 

"What's up?"

"I'm always talking about this place to your mom, and I promised to send her a picture. To be honest, I think she wants proof that her son really does get up at 5:30."
 

Smiling, Ian walked back over the thick wet morning grass to his new wife.
How does she do it?
he thought.
It's ridiculously early, she's wrapped up tight in jogging gear and a body warmer, and she STILL looks great.
 

As Ian arrived at her side, Sandra stretched up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I've always wanted a picture of you standing here. And your mum is going to love it!"
 

Ian grinned. "Ok - but let's make it quick. I'm a finely tuned athlete and my hamstrings can't take the stop and start the way you amateurs can."

Sandra playfully pushed Ian toward the edge of the marsh, reached into a small zipper pocket on her body warmer and pulled out her phone.

"Stand next to the water - I want to get a bit of everything in this. The water, the trees and the sun."
 

Ian walked backwards, feeling his feet sink slightly into the soft marshy mud. "How's this?"

With her phone in one hand, Sandra rested the other hand on her hip. "Hmmm. It's so beautiful here, it seems a shame to have you in the picture, but your mom would kill me if I didn't. Now - back up a little more - don't worry about getting your feet wet - I promise to help you warm up when we get home."
 

Ian smiled at the thought as he gingerly backed up into the softer, deeper mud. Slipping, with the water now up to his ankles, he steadied himself. "Ok - this is as far as I go. One more step and I'll need a horse to pull me out."

Sandra giggled, and lifted the camera phone to her face, framing her husband surrounded by nature at its best. Sandra never tired of the beauty of this place. She loved the orange/red sunrise as it slowly spread its light and warmth over the still marsh. Maybe now was the right time to tell Ian about the baby? Sandra knew how keen he was to be a father, and what better place to find out.
 

Sandra grinned to herself as she flicked her phone from photo to video. She wanted to capture this moment - the look on her husband's face - as he learned that he would soon be a father. She touched the screen and started recording.

Just then, a loud noise and sudden movement in the shrubs to Sandra's right startled her. Sandra swivelled, and through the screen she could see a young girl emerge from the undergrowth.
 

She figured the girl was in her early teens, although exactly how old was difficult. Sandra watched through her phone as the petite young girl drifted toward her, murmuring to herself while her head jerked unnaturally from side to side. Expensively dressed in tight jeans, a too-small T-shirt and wedge heels, this girl was not dressed for a dawn walk with nature.
 

Sandra shivered slightly at the odd sight walking toward her. Something was definitely wrong.

#

Hearing the noise to his left, Ian gingerly turned on the slippery mud and watched dumbstruck as the girl emerged from the undergrowth and walked toward Sandra. Or rather,
drifted
toward Sandra. Ian watched as she appeared to float in a daze.

Wait.
 

This definitely wasn't right. There was something
other-worldly
about this - despite her tiny frame, the young girl seemed ... menacing.

Ian struggled to move forward - slipping in the mud, losing his balance and splashing backward into the shallow marsh.
 

Although her gaze remained fixed on Sandra, Ian's movement seemed to agitate the girl. She lurched toward Sandra, murmuring and twitching, and for the first time Sandra looked into the girls eyes.
 

Dark, blood red eyelids shredded and thick droplets of blood tearing down both cheeks, the girl looked deranged. Sandra recoiled, dropping her phone on the thick moss below. Without thinking, she stepped backward, her expensive running shoes crunching and snapping through the tinder dry twigs lying on the soft damp ground behind her.
 

The girl stepped forward, and her murmuring stopped, her eyes stared coldly at Sandra as if she'd noticed her for the first time. Horrified, Sandra watched as the girls muscles and veins pulsed from her neck and forehead. The head jerked to the right, and Sandra noticed a fist-sized chunk of flesh missing from the girls left cheek, the girls jawbone and teeth glistening in the morning sun through the gaping hole.

Sandra's world slowed to a crawl.

She could hear Ian shouting in the distance, a bad connection on yet another long-distance call.

Sandra stumbled backward. The girl pounced on her chest, the momentum forced Sandra to fall backwards onto the twigs and branches behind her. With a loud crack, her head hit a moss-covered rock, and the world went quiet. She felt the thick blood pour down the back of her neck and her face and neck being pushed and tugged. Through a foggy haze, Sandra watched distractedly as the girl clawed and bit at her face and neck.
 

Exhausted, her eyes almost closed and her neck warm and wet, Sandra tried to cough - tried to clear the warm wet soup catching in her throat. Sandra looked past the girl's snarling face, red eyes and swirling black hair at the bright blue sky above. Ian's mud-covered face appeared above the girl, and Sandra watched as he swung something hard against the side of the girls head, watched absently as the girl flew to the side.
 

Sandra looked up at the sky and watched two birds swoop past, playing in the morning sun. He's going to be so surprised to hear the big news.

Blood bubbling from her nose and mouth, Sandra closed her eyes for the last time.

#

The tiny girl was impossibly strong. Ian grabbed again at her but she clung on to Sandra. Biting, slashing, clawing - she was an animal. Ian punched and kicked the girl.

She was unstoppable.
 

And she was tearing Sandra apart.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ian saw blood spurting from the neck of his wife as she lay still on the ground. He frantically looked around, grabbed a heavy arm's length broken branch and swung it with all his might against the side of the crazed girl's head.

A loud crack echoed up through the trees, the girl's head swung obscenely to the side and she collapsed to the ground.
 

Ian dropped the branch and leaped toward his limp blood-soaked wife, staring horrified at two chunks of flesh missing from the left side of her neck. Blood was streaming from it and he couldn't staunch the flow. Frantically, Ian pressed his hands to the wound, but it was too much.

He picked his wife up. Silent. Motionless. Lifeless. Ian cradled her in both arms, sobbing "Hold on, hold on, hold on."

Panic and fear coursed through his body. Ian turned, sprinted past the dead girl. In his arms, he carried his dead wife and the child he'd never know.

#

11am Tuesday, San Francisco (Minus 35 Hours)

To the rest of the world, San Francisco's most famous landmark is the Golden Gate bridge, but to those living in the city there is another. To the city's 800,000 residents, the Transamerica Pyramid is more than simply the tallest building in San Francisco - it's a point of pride. An icon. Located at the nexus between downtown and North Beach, the towering pyramid-obelisk commands the sort of rent that ensures only the most expensive kind of bankers, insurers and lawyers work there.

Fourteen stories up this iconic building, standing inches from a pane of reinforced glass stretching floor-to-ceiling, Alex Hill gazed out across the San Francisco skyline. He loved this view. The multi-coloured buildings dotted across the horizon. Stretching out to his right the blue water of San Francisco Bay. Directly ahead was Hill's Coit Tower. Built in the 30s, the 200 foot concrete art deco tower stood proud at the top of ritzy Telegraph Hill. Whenever the stress of work became too much, Hill would instruct his secretary to block out an hour. He'd turn off his phone, take the 15-minute walk to the tower, join the tourists clambering up to the top and gaze out at the bridge, the bay and the city he loved. This was his father's favourite place, the last place they had visited together before the cancer got him six months earlier. Hill didn't hear the chatter and buzz of tourists when he went there. He heard his father's voice.

He wished he was there right now.

A loud, staccato voice snapped him back to the present.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Alex. Been tied up on a call with the Chairman of WhiteStar's private equity partner. Please - take a seat."

Reluctantly, Hill turned his back on the fresh blue-sky of San Francisco winter's morning, stepped toward the enormous polished oak wooden boardroom table and sat down on one of the twenty four enormous leather chairs surrounding it.

"No need to apologise sir. I understand completely, and I'm at your disposal."

Hill examined his boss and the firm's Managing Partner for the last two decades. William Miller was five-nine, weathered and wiry, his grey hair cropped short, Miller was a man who clearly kept himself in shape. At 63 years old, he was a keen and formidable competitor, spending his vacation time competing in masters triathlons around the world. To Hill, he looked like a battle-hardened army general.
 

Miller gave a cursory nod as he settled into a plush leather chair and slapped a manilla folder onto the desk in front of him. It occurred to Hill that an observer might find the scene vaguely comical. Two expensively dressed corporate lawyers facing each other across a huge boardroom table in a cavernous room overlooking the city skyline. It all seemed so ... excessive.

"Alex. The WhiteStar investors are getting very nervous. As you know only too well, Tanaka's games have made billions. Over three billion in the US alone! But it's been over three years since iSight 2 was released, and in the online gaming business, that's ancient history. The market's caught up. Tanaka's sold us all on the idea that iSight 3 will be even bigger. In a presentation to the investors three months ago, he was confidently predicting two and half billion people playing this new game every single day. That's one-third of the planet! In the same presentation, he also claimed that what he'd built was at least five years ahead of anything else out there - and from the research and video interviews with beta testers, it seems he might be right.