The Sapporo Outbreak (29 page)

Torn between what might be above, and what was definitely below, the tension was too much for Hill.
 

"Get out of my way" he screamed as he barged past Itou and up into the dim stairwell above.
 

For a split second, Hill's words echoed through the silent stairwell. Then a primal howl from below and above broke the silence and countless infected started sprinting up from the 3
^rd
floor and down from the 6
^th
.
 

Abandoning any attempt at stealth, Itou crouched then launched himself at the emergency exit. The door burst open, and they all spilled forward into the darkness beyond.

Impassive as always, Itou turned to the group.

"Follow me. There's another stairwell past Doctor Becker's Lab. Move quickly. If you fall behind I cannot help."

Without waiting for a response, Itou darted into the darkened floor beyond with Hill inches behind.
 

Harper, Skinner and Santos glanced at each other as the first of the chasing packs arrived at the door.
 

#

10:30pm Thursday, Seattle, Washington

Lewis Dodgson walked over to the large bay window of his Roy Street apartment and listened to the muffled mix of student music and chatter as it drifted up from the bar next door. He watched as a blue electric car cautiously edged its way down the snow-covered road in near silence. Dodgson watched the snow fall and felt his anger rise again. Anger at the faceless corporations like WhiteStar that silently tracked
 
every move. What they read. What they watched. What they listened to. What they looked for and what they bought. Who their friends and family were. What they liked and disliked. Who and what they agreed with.
 

Who they
were
.

Everyday people looked for a place to escape from the pressures and disappointments of everyday life. To swap their colourless world for a bigger, brighter, bolder virtual world. To do things they wouldn't dare to in the real world. To pretend. To play games. Little by little, people gave up everything about themselves, teased, tricked, and misled by organisations like WhiteStar. Giant monoliths swallowing every little detail. Corporations that never slept and never forgot.
 

Dodgson shook his head in disgust. People trusted WhiteStar with their information - and in return WhiteStar bundled it up and sold it to the highest bidder.

And yet, while the drunks lingered in the bar next door and the rest of Seattle slept, he knew that, together with his ANONet colleagues, he had struck a great blow for freedom and liberty. He felt sure panic and confusion had set in at WhiteStar as the scale and elegance of the attack sunk in. They would know that their precious new game had been stripped free of its insidious identify theft and was spreading freely across the planet.
 

Dodgson knew that almost every iSight 2 player - over 300 million of them - would now be immersed in the new, anarchic iSight 3. He knew that they would soon be joined by a rush of first time players, flooding to the revolutionary - and now free - iSight 3 game. Over 700 million people around the world owned glasses or lenses capable of playing the game. Dodgson felt sure almost all of them would join the game in the next 24 hours. They'd come for the revolutionary experience. They'd come to join their friends. They'd come because it was free.

A sudden rush of excitement sent shivers racing through his body. He couldn't wait any longer - he had to join the game and see for himself just how quickly it had spread. He wanted to join other players around the world in experienced the rush of excitement as they experience true virtual freedom for the first time.

Dodgson walked back to the enormous desk and slid open a thin drawer on his right. He took out a white plastic box the size of his palm and opened it to reveal his iSight 3 soft contact lenses. Checking his cell phone was on and running iSight 3, Dodgson inserted the left, and then the right lens.

He waited a few seconds while the lenses connected to his cell phone and the kinetic energy of his blinking fired up the lenses.

And then the world changed.

The ANONet-stripped iSight 3 system sprang to life, immediately augmenting his apartment with his personal preferences. He looked around his apartment. A beautiful woman and two young men were whispering in the corner of his apartment. Dodgson smiled - even he found it hard to tell which characters were human and which were virtual characters generated by the game.
 

Dodgson smiled and walked over to the three 'people'.

As he approached he knew something wasn't right. The young men look different - more angular. The beautiful young woman seemed - intense. They were staring at him and, a split second later, they were standing in front of him, the men either side of the odd young woman. She seemed to float in front of his eyes. Her long black hair fell across her athletic form, and her dark eyes stared into his. She was menacingly beautiful.

Briefly unnerved, Dodgson hesitated for a second before asking her name. She looked blankly back at him as if she hadn't heard the question. Damn, something had screwed up. What had he missed?

He turned and spoke to the two hawkish young men and again got no response. He tried a different approach, and instructed them to sit. Again, the same blank stare.

Something was definitely wrong. His heart was pumping hard and fast. He could feel himself start to sweat.
   

A sudden movement to his right caught his eye. Dodgson turned to see the young man's head jerk and snap unnaturally, like a bird of prey surveying the scene. Just then, the man to his left arched violently, his face distorted and teeth bared. The beautiful woman in front began convulsing, and as she did her hair grew wilder, her skin more haggard, her fingers longer. Dodgson couldn't speak. Couldn't move. He watched on in horror at her transformation into a mangled razor thin old woman. Her face twisted by age and fury, the woman leaned in until her nose brushed against Dodgson's and then she screamed.
 

He retched at her stinking breath, and wheeled wide-eyed in terror as he saw the murderous intent on the disfigured creatures beside him. They lunged forward.

Dodgson turned and ran.
 

He ran past the kitchen grabbing a long bread knife on the way. He burst out into the icy air and felt the creatures chasing behind. They were close. Almost upon him.
 

He slashed wildly at the darkness behind him while sprinting down the creaky, snow-packed wooden staircase and out into the freezing cold night. They were right behind him now - he could feel them.
 

Dodgson spun round on the hard ice, and saw more hideous creatures emerging from the shadows. They were everywhere.

Dark shapes slithered across the ice toward him. They were closing in on him. Dodgson felt like his heart would explore in fear. An ice cold hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him round. Three grotesque creatures, dead eyes and rotten flesh, descended upon him.
 

Dodgson understood now. They were here to kill him - to tear him apart. Adrenaline pulsed through his body. He had tried flight. He only had one chance.
 

He had to fight.

#

Skinner, Santos and Harper raced into the pitch black maze of office spaces arranged around Doctor Becker's lab. Somewhere up ahead, Itou and Hill were tracing their way toward the stairwell. Close behind they could hear the crazed packs spill into the darkness while others pounded up and down the concrete stairs.
 

They were closing in fast.

"Come on" Harper whispered. "I've got most of the building information cached on my phone. I think I can get us there."
 

Skinner and Santos nodded, and with that Harper began jogging forward, zig-zagging around invisible obstacles, through corridors and open doors. Skinner grabbed Santos by the hand and they began running behind Harper, so close they could reach out and touch him.
 

Up ahead, Skinner could hear Itou growl "Hurry, hurry" and Hill respond with a whimper.
 

Skinner glanced behind. He could see shapes moving in the darkness, could hear the pack shout out to each other, trying to corner the fleeing group.
 

They were being hunted.

A few seconds more and the pack would be on them, and Skinner had no doubt they'd be torn apart. Harper suddenly darted to his left, while shouting, "This way, quickly."
 

Skinner and Santos almost missed the sharp turn through a doorway and into what felt like another long corridor. Harper had stopped dead. He was breathing heavily as his hands scrambled around the edge of the doorway.
 

Santos pressed into Skinner. "Ben - they're here!"
 

The pounding feet of the chasing pack turned the corner to face them, just as Harper slammed his palm hard on a discrete white panel on the inside of the door frame and triggered the manual release of the glass safety door.
 

Gasping for breath, Skinner, Santos and Harper could only watch as the homicidal pack descended from the darkened corridor, their eyes filled with hate.
 

#

Two men and two women, students in their early twenties, stumbled, laughing out of the warm Seattle bar and into the thick snow outside. As they walked gingerly up the six ice-covered steps and onto street level, they fell silent.

A man stood in the middle of the road, wearing white shorts and a T-shirt. He looked drunk or loaded up on something.

With a cautious nod to his companions, one of the two students moved toward the crazy guy. He placed his hand gently on the guy's shoulder and sobered up instantly. The man was shivering violently and his lips were dark blue. If they didn't get him out of the cold soon, he'd die.

"Hey buddy. You're going to freeze to death out here. Come on, let's get you inside and we'll figure out how you got here in the first place."
 

The man spun round with a look of raw savagery. His eyes were wide and wild. He let out a high-pitched scream, lunged forward and sliced wildly at the student, catching him across the neck.
 

Stunned, the student held his neck as the blood pulsed from the wound. He stumbled and fell onto the snow, gurgling up at the thick snow clouds above. The lunatic leapt onto the student, grabbed the fat kitchen knife in both hands and raised it high above his head.

A loud crack echoed through the still winter night as the thick, snow-covered leather boot of the second student smashed into the crazed man's ribs. The force of the kick lifted him off the dying student and back onto the icy road. Four ribs were broken, and one side of his face was ripped to shreds by road ice. Ignoring the injuries, he scrambled to his knees and stumbled on the poorly lit road before finding his knife.
 

He let out a guttural growl and turned to stare wild-eyed at the students. As he prepared to launch, a pickup truck travelling too fast for the icy conditions slid around the corner, its headlights spotting Dodgson much too late.

The truck careered into Lewis Dodgson, knocking the large knife from his grasp and breaking his rib cage against the grill. He fell backwards and under the onrushing truck. A rear wheel crushed his chest as the truck slid to a halt and the crisp white snow turned a scarlet red.
 

The sound of a woman screaming and a truck engine idling were the last sounds Lewis Dodgson ever heard.
 

#

A dull thud. Then another. And another.
 

John Evans face pressed flat against the glass and twisted in fury. Inches from him on the other side of the thick safety door, Skinner, Santos and Harper sat on the floor staring back at him. Behind Evans were more than a dozen infected players, each of them taking turns at pounding the thick glass door.

The door was smeared in blood as the pack smashed against the toughened glass. Santos watched in horror and fascination. Pain didn't seem to register with any of the players. They punched, they kicked, they even smashed foreheads and elbows against the reinforced glass. She could see and hear fingers snap and arms break with the force of the blows. And yet the pack kept smashing at the barrier.
 

Santos stood up, now fully recovered from the attack, and stood directly in front of the glass door to address Skinner and Harper. The movement seemed to enrage Evans and the pack, the pounding increased.

"Ben. Andy. It seems pretty clear to me that these players are in some sort of group paranoid delusion. I know that on a really small scale, video games have been known to trigger episodes like this. It's rare, and as far as I know only with individuals already prone to instability. Nothing anywhere near this scale."

Skinner nodded. "Yeah Eva. Seems to me that the game has made some of them lose track of what's real and what's not."

Harper added, "I think it's more than that. I've been all over the iSight system since we got here, and have taken advantage of some 'inside information' to access a few areas not always open to the public."

He smiled warmly. Skinner was struck by the bizarre setting. They were calmly discussing the situation while infected players smashed against a glass door only inches from them.

Harper continued. "There's been some sort of massive - and I do mean massive - failure across all areas of the game. Pretty much immediately after it happened the shit started to hit the fan."

Santos frowned while tucking her thick black hair behind her ears. "What do you mean Andy?"

Harper paused for a moment. "I'm afraid to say I might be to blame. It looks to me like the game has been attacked. Which means the security system - my security system - has been breached."

Skinner turned to Harper. "But why would that turn some people into raving lunatics."