Burning Angels

Not that they were kidding themselves. There was no cure. Not for this; not for a five-thousand-year-old virus brought back from the dead. Everyone on that aircraft was as good as finished, along with the vast majority of planet earth’s human population.

Some forty-five minutes earlier the Wildcat had put down on the beach. Before boarding, each team member had gone through the wet decon tent, sluicing down and discarding their suits, before dousing themselves with EnviroChem and scrubbing out the shards of glass.

Not that any of that could alter the fact of their own contamination.

As Kammler had told them, they were all now virus bombs. For the uninfected, their every breath spelled a potential death sentence.

That was why they’d chosen to keep their FM54 masks on. The respirators not only filtered the air they breathed in; with a DIY modification courtesy of Hiro Kamishi, they could also filter the air breathed out, so preventing them spreading the virus.

Kamishi’s bodge was rough and ready, and it came with its own risks, but it was the best they had. They’d each taped a particulate filter — similar to a basic surgical mask — over the respirator’s exhaust port. It created greater resistance, with the unfortunate result that the lungs were less able to exhale and void the virus.

Instead, the Gottvirus would pool in the confines of the respirator, so around eyes, mouth and nose. With that would come a greater risk of increased virus loading — in other words, accelerated infection — which could precipitate a rapid onrush of the symptoms. In short, in striving to not infect others, they risked doubly poisoning themselves.

But that didn’t particularly seem to matter, with all of humanity seemingly doomed.

Jaeger felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. It was Narov’s. He glanced up at her, a look of pained emptiness in his eyes, before flicking his gaze back to Ruth and to Luke.

‘We found them… But after everything, it’s all so bloody hopeless.’

Narov crouched beside him, her eyes — her striking, clear, ice-blue eyes — level with his now.

‘Maybe not.’ Her voice was tight with intensity. ‘How has Kammler got his virus out to the world? Think about it. He said that the virus has already been unleashed. “Even now it is making its way into the four corners of the world.” That means he has weaponised it. How did he achieve that?’

‘What does it matter? It’s out there. It’s in people’s blood.’ Jaeger swept his eyes across the forms of his wife and child. ‘It’s in their blood. Breeding. Taking them over. What does it matter how it’s spreading?’

Narov shook her head, her grip tightening on his shoulder. ‘Think about it. Plague Island was deserted, and not just of people. Every single monkey cage was empty. He’d emptied the place of primates. That’s how he sent the virus global — he exported it via those KRP shipments. Trust me. I’m sure of it. And those few animals that already showed signs of sickness — he let them loose in the jungle.

‘The Ratcatcher can trace those monkey export flights,’ Narov continued. ‘The monkeys may still be in quarantine. That won’t stop the virus completely, but if we can nuke the monkey houses, it may at least slow its spread.’

‘But what does it matter?’ Jaeger repeated. ‘Unless those aircraft are still in the air, and we can somehow stop them, the virus is already out there. Sure, it might buy us a little time. A few days. But without a cure, the outcome will still be the same.’

Narov’s expression darkened, her features seeming to collapse in on themselves. She had been grasping at that hope, yet in truth it was a chimera.

‘I hate losing,’ she muttered. She went as if to drag her hair into a ponytail — as if pulling herself together for action — before remembering she was still wearing the respirator. ‘We have to try. We have to. It is what we do, Jaeger.’

They did, but the question was how. Jaeger felt utterly defeated. With Ruth and Luke lying there beside him, being slowly consumed by the virus, he felt as if there was nothing left worth fighting for.

When the kidnappers had first ripped them away from him, he had failed to protect them. He’d clung to the hope of finding and rescuing them; of redemption. Yet now he had done so, he felt doubly impotent; utterly powerless.

‘Kammler — we cannot let him win.’ Narov’s fingers dug deeper into Jaeger’s flesh, where her hand still gripped his shoulder. ‘Where there is life, there is hope. Even a few days might make a difference.’

Jaeger glanced at Narov, blankly.

She gestured at Ruth and Luke, lying on the stretchers. ‘Where there is life there is still hope. You need to lead us. To take action. You, Jaeger. You. For me. For Ruth. For Luke. For every person who loves and laughs and breathes — take action, Jaeger. We go down fighting.’