STASIS: Part 3: Restart

by E. W. Osborne

  “Everything looks the same,” she mumbled, looking over her shoulder. “We have to get out of here. You just know there are cameras on us right now.”

  “I know! What do you want me do? Your guess is as good as—”

  Her fingernails dug into his arm. “Uh, I was dancing with Death the last time I came down this hallway, so maybe you’d like to take the lead on this one, bud?”

  Out of fear and stress, he was about to lay into her. But her shallow quick breaths and terrified eyes held him back. She was only lashing out of fear.

  “I think it’s this way,” he lied, hoping he sounded confident.

  This windowless hall had three door on the right, one on the left, and a junction at the end. As they reached the second door, a woman’s voice called out.

  “I’m going on break. You want me to wait for you or…”

  They looked in opposite directions, both thinking the voice was coming from behind and ahead. Just then, the hall flooded with scent of freshly mowed grass. The fresh air quickened their steps toward an exit yet unseen. The voices drew closer. Neil slowed to a crawl and pushed her behind him as they approached the corner. He chanced a peek around, hoping the voices were coming from behind. He whipped his head back.

  “There’s three or four heading this way,” he whispered, pulling her back.

  They only made it a few paces before a set of footsteps began to approach from the hall they’d just come from.

  “Fuck!” she hissed.

  They turned this way and that, searching for any escape. At the last second, Maggie dove for the closest door, pulling him in behind. With his luck, he expected to find himself in a room full of men with guns all trained at them. But luck was on their side. The room was a supply closet of some sort, folded sheets and cleaning supplies lined the walls.

  Staring at the door, they pressed back and held their breath as the voices passed.

  “Did Caroline come in today?”

  “No, I think she’s still in the hospital, actually. I was going to call…”

  The conversation faded into the distance. Neil glanced to his right and noticed Maggie was having trouble catching her breath. Her pale skin had a clammy, almost wax-like pallor.

  “You stay here. I’m going to try to find the way out and I’ll come—”

  “You’re not leaving me here,” she hissed.

  “We don’t have time to argue. I’ll be back as soon as I can and don’t you dare leave this room.”

  He rushed from the room before she said anything else, putting as much distance between him and the door as he could. In the back of his mind, he reasoned if he was caught, at least maybe she could get free. But not if he was found leaving the room.

  He reached the corner, hearing nothing but silence. The scent of grass was strongest from the left. Before he could walk more then three paces, the brisk sound of heels on tile echoed toward him. He spun on his heel ready to return to the closet but more footsteps were coming from that direction. In a panic, he fled down the hall as quietly as he could. Maybe it was the fear, but he thought he heard even more people coming toward him. The only thing he could think to do was roll the dice again and hope his luck continued. Ripping the closest door open, he plunged inside.

  Neil struggled to steady his ragged breathing. He could feel his heart racing in his throat, lungs burning with the unfamiliar demand. He blinked in the dim light, the shadows playing tricks with his vision. The long corridor he found himself in seemed to stretch impossibly long. It was as silent as a morgue. He pulled the door shut and held the the knob, hoping no one tried to follow him in. He knew he should wait for the danger to pass, but the space ahead of him strangely beckoned.

  Dotted along the walls were neatly stacked doorways, reminding him of a prison. They were perfectly mirrored right and left but lacked any sort of visible marking or identifying symbol. He eyed each door suspiciously as he walked past, as if waiting for them to burst open. He counted the paces between them, measuring about twenty.

  What is this place? It’s just a maze of doors? In a panic, he double checked that he knew the way back to Maggie, confirming his memory at least worked that far.

  When he reached the third pair of doors, he glanced over his shoulder to check he was alone. The same optical illusion that made the hall appear to shrink away was now coming at him from both sides. The dizzying feeling pushed him to the wall in search for a tangible sensation to root him.

  His hand bumped the simple silver doorknob of the fourth door on the left. He stared at it as if it were a foreign object, liable to come alive in his grip. Without twisting or testing it, he took a step away as if he wanted to move down the hall yet was chained to the spot. Neil squeezed his eyes shut and turned the knob, praying for it to be locked and unlocked at the same time. It opened without a sound.

  The room looked like a place hospitals might use to quarantine patients. Glass or toughened plastic cubicles edged the length of the hallway on the left side. The floor-to-ceiling partitions could only be entered through a small, clear door. He guessed the doors were locked, judging by the blinking keypad beside each one.

  Inside each cubical was a state-of-the-art hospital suite. A bed similar to Maggie’s but a dozen more expensive machines beeping away.

  He inched down the hall, keeping his eye on the closest patient. She was an older Asian woman, her graying hair in a sharp style at her chin. She could’ve been someone’s grandmother. She sat placidly with her legs straight out in front of her, toes pointing up, hands neatly folded in her lap. While the bed itself was fixed in a reclined position, she held herself perfectly still at this uncomfortable-looking angle.

  His eyes traveled down the length of the hall, sweeping across a dizzying number of identical rooms. Pacing, one foot in front of another, as if strolling along an art exhibit, one patient caught his eye in particular.

  She was younger, close to his age, and maybe one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. A streak of blue stood out against her shoulder-length white blonde hair. Her serene gaze identical to the others he passed. Hands folded, face calm. He realized with an awe-struck horror that these were the people from the videos. These were the catatonics he’d seen online.

  A moment later, he remembered if they were the catatonics he’d heard about, they all fell into this trance after killing someone. He subconsciously pressed himself against the wall, no longer curious.

  At first, he thought it was an optical illusion, a trick of the light because he was standing directly in front of her. After a few deliberate blinks, it was obvious. The woman he’d been staring at was now staring back. Instinctively, he took a step toward the door. Her eyes followed.

  Neil’s heart pounded against his ribs yet he was unable to pry himself away, a part of his brain still trying to believe it was an illusion.

  She lifted her fingers slightly and began to speak.

  It broke the spell. No matter how beautiful, he didn’t want to hang around for some murderous zombie to set her sights on him. It was only until later, when he was safe, did he realize the words she mouthed to him wasn’t a threat. It was a plea. Wait. Help me.

  Desperate to escape whatever place they’d found themselves in, he threw himself at the mercy of luck one last time. He sprinted back to the supply closet, grabbed a very frightened Maggie, and ran until they found an exit.

  “What happened?” she gasped after him.

  “Nothing. We need go to. Now.”

  The fresh night air hit him. The joy he felt was like he’d been inside for weeks rather than days. He said a prayer of thanks to every deity he’d ever heard of that it was night. Even though the perimeter of the building was cast in a day-like light, all they had to do was make it to the shadows and then the fence.

  In a fast sprint, they ran nearly fifty yards to the closest tree and pressed themselves against the rough trunk. He still felt hugely exposed but knew he had to give Maggie a chance to recover. Her heavy breathing meant r
unning any distance for a significant amount of time was out of the question.

  “We have to try to make it to the right gate,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

  Nothing looked familiar. The massive complex of buildings seemed to be designed to be deliberately plain and unidentifiable. There were no markings or signs to differentiate between one building or the next.

  Maggie panted at his side, keeping up through sheer willpower alone. “We take it slow. We move with purpose. We have to get out of here.”

  And that’s exactly what they did.

  Chapter Four

  New York City, NY

  July 6th

  Kristine had never felt so nervous in her entire life. It was oddly comforting having Alex on the other end of the video call. She would’ve preferred to have Christopher there, but had kept it from him on purpose. Plus, she was wary of depending on him for too much.

  She watched as Alex muttered to himself, wheeling around the cramped room. The camera angle was from high above, maybe on a shelf overlooking his bedroom. He was a big guy and breathed loudly through his mouth, but there was something endearing about him, an earnestness she liked. Would I trust him as much if he didn’t have an English accent, though? Like, I’m subconsciously assuming he’s smarter than he is. The thought made her chuckle for a second.

  Alex spoke but didn’t look at the camera. “Sorry, what was that? I missed what you said.”

  Kristine cleared her throat. “Nothing, it wasn’t important. Listen, if you need another day to get it ready, we can put it off until tomorrow.” She tried to hide a yawn behind the back of her hand, turning her face away from the camera.

  It was close to 3 a.m. her time, which meant it was nearly 8 in his timezone. “No, I’m nearly ready. You sent over the video you recorded earlier?”

  “Ah shit, no. Hang on, I’ll get it to you.”

  Her skin prickled with slight embarrassment at her unprofessionalism. After going back and forth with Alex all morning, she’d prerecorded the instructions he’d sent over. The idea was her message was going to be attached to whatever tech stuff he could create on his end. But of course, that had to go out at the same time. Blame it on the pregnancy brain.

  Out of habit, she watched the clip before sending it, just to triple check it was perfect. This, out of anything she’d ever recorded, had to be right. She tried to watch without a critical eye, only making sure the information was factually accurate and clear. Her voice rang out, full of nerves and serious.

  “You probably don’t know me, but my name is Kristine McKay and I’m a freelance investigative journalist. I’ve been researching the catatonic curse, the rise of violence in the US, and the strange spike of suicides in England. The world is a scary place right now, filled with more questions than answers. My goal was to figure out why and how all this has been happening, to shed some more answers on those questions. All of us have been touched by the recent epidemic. ”

  Her hand dipped below the shot. She could’ve been reaching for something just out of reach, but she knew she’d touched her stomach at those words. Tears welled in her eyes, matching the tears in the video. Her sorrow wasn’t for the cameras but she wasn’t about to cut it either.

  “I have reason to believe all of these events are linked to the Seed technology. Steele Industries vehemently denies any wrongdoing and I expect will be very unhappy with what I’m about to tell you.”

  She took a deep breath and held it, releasing it only with the next bit of information. It was almost as though she needed the extra propulsion to get it out.

  “You can disable your Seed at home, by yourself, and I’m here to show you how. I’ve posted the information I’ve collected, all of it confirmed by multiple sources as well as other journalists. If you would like to disable your Seed, here are the steps.”

  Kristine watched herself with a growing combination of apprehension and excitement. If Alex was as good as he claimed to be, this might save millions of people. The power and responsibility that carried with it was the very definition of awesome. Once she was satisfied with the video, even though she’d checked it multiple times, she sent it over to Alex.

  “Got it. Two seconds and…” He trailed off, his fingers flying across the keyboard in a blur. He rolled to another computer, typed something quickly, and then back to center. For the first time in an hour, he looked up to the camera and addressed her directly.

  “Are you ready? Sure you want to do this?” He swiped dark hair out of his eyes, leaving it wet and matted against his forehead. She couldn’t believe how much trust she was putting into a single person, but the world was a vastly different place now.

  She nodded, as if convincing herself. “I’m sure.”

  A couple clicks, a few taps of his keyboard and he was done. He threw his hands up behind his head and whistled, his chair creaking as he leaned back. “Done.”

  “That’s it?” she laughed nervously.

  “That’s it.”

  She checked her phone and messages. “It hasn’t popped up for me yet.”

  “It wouldn’t have done yet,” he replied, rocking forward. “I’m sending them out in batches. And because I’m trying to reach millions upon millions of phones and tablets and email addresses without being caught, it has to bounce around the world a few dozen times.”

  Kristine nodded as if she knew what the hell he was talking about. His confidence was reassuring, at least. She figured, the worst that could happen is that it didn’t work and her credibility would take a knock. Best case scenario, she just saved a bunch of people.

  “And that site you told me about? Project stasis or whatever? Are we getting in before the next countdown?”

  Alex straightened and looked directly at the camera. “You haven’t looked at that, have you?”

  “No, no,” she insisted, hair bouncing as she shook her head. “After what you told me happened to your friend Mouse, you couldn’t pay me to go near it.”

  He visibly relaxed. “Good and no. The counter is still there, but I’m not sure it’s actually working anymore. It didn’t predict the uh…” He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “The last event.”

  “Right, good, I guess.” Now all they had to do was wait, but waiting proved quite difficult. She wanted an instant response, millions of people declaring they’d deactivate their Seeds, they were clean, encouraging others to as well. She wanted to cure the disease straight away and wake up the next morning in a new, better world.

  “How do we know it’s working?”

  Alex fidgeted in his chair, glancing up at the camera every now and then. It was obvious he didn’t actually speak with people very often. The pauses in speech, his nervous tics. He was a step beyond socially awkward, which she found strangely endearing.

  “Well, to be honest…”

  She gave him a few moments to pick up where he’d left off, but when it was apparent he’d gotten lost in thought, she spoke up.

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  He laughed and wiped his forehead again. “No. I actually don’t. I painted myself into a bit of a corner, so to speak. If I wanted to protect us, I couldn’t set up any notifications.”

  “Protect yourself,” she corrected. It came out a lot harsher than she’d meant, but it was late. She was finding it more difficult to regulate her tone. He looked admonished. “I just mean that my face is out there for all the world to see. There’s no protecting that.”

  “Fair enough, but I can help you with that too, if you want.”

  “How? What do you mean?”

  “I can disable the GPS tracking of your Seed if you want.”

  “GPS… no,” she groaned, rubbing her temples. “I think I’ve messed around with my brain more than enough for one day.” It took a little conversational dancing, but she’d managed to avoid outwardly lying to him. She hadn’t disabled her Seed and wasn’t planning on it until she knew it was safe for the baby.

  “Are you feeling okay?”
r />   “Just a little drained,” she replied with a weak smile.

  “I’m used to staying up late. If you want, you can go have a little kip and be ready for the morning.”

  “There’s no point staying up?” She yawned, the mere suggestion of sleep enough to double her drowsiness.

  “Stuff should start to trickle in soon, but you might as well get some sleep while you can. I have a feeling you’re going to be a very busy person after this goes live. Are you sure you’re safe where you are?”

  Kristine glanced at the locked door and then to the windows. The old metal fire escape would be an easy way to break into their third-story unit, but she couldn’t believe it to be possible. No one would actually come after her. She might have a visit from a cop or something, but that was as much as she could imagine.

  “I’m safe. I think I’m gonna try to and get a couple hours of sleep before people start waking up over here.”

  “West coast might still be…”

  She held a hand up to the camera and nodded. “I know. Someone’s awake somewhere in the world. But I need sleep.” She yawned at the screen, feeling as though she should say something poignant. Her brain simply couldn’t form the appropriate words. “You did a great thing tonight, Alex. You’re a hero.”

  Even with the bad lighting and distance from the camera, she could see his cheeks redden. “It’s nothing, really.”

  “None of that British modesty,” she laughed. “You saved a lot of people tonight. You should be proud of that.” He nodded bashfully, unable to handle the praise. She yawned again. “Okay you, don’t stare at the computers for too long. I’ll write you when I’m up.”

  “You got it. Nighty night,” he replied. Just before she ended the call, she heard him mutter to himself. “For fuck’s sake. Nighty night? You utter toss—”

  She laughed again, her voice swallowed inside the empty unit. Her body was buzzing with excitement, but was overcome with a deep exhaustion. As she curled up under the thin blankets, the old air conditioning unit barely cutting through the humid city air, she felt content.