Stasis (Book 1.2): Beta

by Osborne, E. W.

  “Hey,” he yawned. “Where are you?”

  Kristine bit back her annoyance. “In the park. Did I wake you?”

  He groaned. She heard the bed squeak as he shifted. “Yeah, actually,” he replied guiltily. After a yawn he laughed. “Hey, it’s not that late. What are you doing up so early?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she pouted. She gathered a cluster of pebbles together with the side of her hand and threw them one by one. “I’m afraid to record this piece.”

  “Then it means you should probably do it,” he said.

  It was good to have someone who understood the drive in her, even if he didn’t share it. “Part of me agrees, but… baby. This could be really dangerous. If something actually happened to the doctor, then…”

  “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably got spooked after he talked to you and took some vacation time or whatever.” He yawned again, his voice sounding more alert with each passing moment. “I’ve never heard you like this. Nothing’s ever scared you before.”

  She opened her mouth to say, “That’s because I’ve only ever thought about myself. Now I have to think for two.” Instead, she replied, “Yeah.”

  “I understand, you know.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. It’s scary and it’s not just the story. You’re at a fork in the road staring down two different paths. If you don’t trust your instincts and post some fluff piece, you feel like that’s it. That’s your last shot.”

  Kristine exhaled sharply. Christopher had never been so… astute before. She blinked a few times as this realization set in. Of course there was a real danger in posting the story, but maybe he was right. Maybe the reason she was so terrified was because if this didn’t save her career, nothing would.

  “Are you there?” he asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry. You’re absolutely right.” She sighed again as a bloom of warmth spread across her chest. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime,” he replied, not understanding how much impact his comment just had on her. “I was going to take you out for breakfast, but seeing as though you aren’t here…”

  Christopher had a habit of dropping big news over diner pancakes and burnt coffee. “Why, what’s up?” she asked, gut twisting with a fresh wave of anxiety.

  “It can wait.”

  “No, please. It’ll drive me crazy,” she begged, hoping it sounded more light than insane.

  “Well, I’m not sure how you’ll react to this, but I got a job.”

  “You… really? When? Doing what?”

  He laughed at her shock. “It’s nothing big, but it’ll bring in some money. I know you’ve been worrying about saving up, so I figured this would help.”

  “That’s amazing, sweetheart. Why wouldn’t I be happy about that?”

  “Well, here’s the rub. It’s Upstate, so a few days a week I’ll have to be out of the city. But only two nights at a time.”

  Kristine selfishly hated the idea of being alone in their apartment, but knew she shouldn’t complain, especially considering how much she’d hassled him for not having a job. “That’s fine. That’s why we live in an unit, right?”

  “Exactly my thoughts,” he said with a laugh.

  “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing.”

  “I didn’t?” he coughed. “It’s nothing special. Random manual labor, short term but could get extended.”

  She disliked the sound of it even more, but didn’t want to say anything when he sounded so upbeat. “You’ve been job searching behind my back,” she chided.

  “I didn’t want to get your hopes up but this has turned into a good morning, hasn’t it?”

  She smiled and pushed the rest of the pebbles off the edge with the side of her hand. “It really has.”

  “You’re gonna record now?”

  “Yeah,” she said, confident in her decision.

  “Well then, good luck. When you get back, we’ll go celebrate. Whatever you want.”

  After ending the call, Kristine closed her eyes and went through a few breathing cycles. For a moment, everything felt right in the world. Birds chirped, children laughed, cars honked. It was a beautiful spring day, a day when nothing horrible should be allowed to happen. As her eyes fluttered open and she arranged the settings on the cuff, she psyched herself up.

  That’s exactly why you have to do this. You can help stop it. Shine light in the dark corners and get people paying attention. This is why you fell in love with journalism. This is what you’re here to do.

  Kristine nodded along to her internal monologue, hitting record when the last shreds of doubt melted away.

  With a grim look, she addressed the world. “The catatonic curse. What is it? Where did it come from? And what can you do to protect yourself?”

  San Francisco, CA

  June 4th

  Ariene flopped onto her cluttered bed, her legs rubbery and weak. With a glance to the open door, she turned up the volume on the video Ebony had just sent her, restarting it from the beginning. She vaguely recognized the woman as some internet persona and figured it was a funny clip or story. But a few seconds in, Ariene understood why her friend had shared it with her.

  The woman took a deep breath, her collar bone protruding and disappearing. She looked directly in the wrist-mounted camera and smiled thinly, introducing herself as Kristine McKay. Under the surface, below the splash of freckles and bright eyes, Ariene thought she looked… afraid.

  “We’ve all seen the videos and before you look away, don’t worry, I’m not going to show them. What I’m going to tell you about is what happens after the cameras stop. The catatonic curse…”

  Ariene closed her eyes and saw the videos. She opened them and watched ghosts of the scenes dance across the white ceiling. Her memory blended together with other recorded scenes of carnage. The sound of the man’s head cracking on the floor looped over and over and over.

  Kristine’s breath came out in a long whoosh. “All of my sources prefer to remain anonymous, but I have fully vetted the information I’m about to tell you. An epidemic has hit pockets of our country, from coast to coast, and no one seems to know how to stop it.”

  Ariene’s vision swam as the video carried on. “These people, after flying into a fit of rage seemingly at random, enter into a trance-like state. The first diagnosed patient has yet to emerge from what my source referred to as a catatonic stupor. Some believe it’s voluntary, a way to prevent the legal system from prosecuting. My sources believe it’s more sinister than that.”

  Ariene couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull her mind from the slow-motion train wreck. Every couple days there was a new video, a new eye-witness account. It was inescapable. She let out a frustrated cry and dug the heel of her hands into her eyes, wishing she could force it all out. Footsteps carried her mom to her bedroom door.

  “Sweetie, you aren’t going to finish packing like that,” she nagged playfully. Ariene rolled her head to the side to watch her mother pick her way into the room. “Have you actually packed anything?”

  “It’s a process,” she mumbled into her forearm.

  “Oh sweetheart, I know it’s scary going to another country, but it’s only for a few months.”

  Ariene gritted her teeth. Ever since the incident, her mother had been nothing but sickeningly sweet. Even though she knew it was good-natured, it was driving her crazy.

  “I’m not worried England, Mom,” she sighed.

  “Then what is it, darling?”

  She slammed her fists onto the bed and pushed herself to sitting. “Could you please stop with the cutesy pet names?” she snapped.

  Her mother’s eyes widened as if shocked by her daughter’s outburst. “I’m just trying to…”

  Ariene knew her reaction was fake and manipulative, but it still worked. “Doesn’t any of it scare you? Everything that’s going on out there?”

  “The world has always been a scary place, dar…” she stopped herself just short. “I know what you a
nd Ebony saw the other day was…”

  “Horrifying?”

  Her mother’s shoulders twitched as if she’d been struck. “Obviously. But that doesn’t mean you give up on living. I once saw two dogs get into a fight and…”

  Ariene couldn’t stop a groan from escaping her throat. Her mother wheeled on her like she’d taken the Lord’s name in vain.

  “I’m sorry if I don’t know exactly how to help my only daughter through something so, so… mindlessly violent. But I just don’t see the point on dwelling on it. You’re alive. You weren’t hurt. I give thanks every day you came home to us.”

  Ariene sighed, her anger sizzling like a freshly doused campfire. “I know, Mom, but this wasn’t a dog. Those other videos aren’t dogs. Something really scary is happening.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I’m awake every night thinking about you going off to another country where I can’t help you? Where I can’t hold if… if…”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you don’t care about me,” Ariene gave in. “It’s all so distracting, that’s all. How am I supposed to focus on packing and everything when people are literally dying?”

  Her mom approached with a softened expression, her mood shifting yet again. Guilt replaced any left over irritation. She pulled a stray piece of hair from Ariene’s shoulder and dropped it to the floor. “People are always dying.”

  Ariene was taken aback by her mother’s morbid, yet realistic, point of view. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “If there’s nothing you can do about it, then you should trust in the Lord and live your life.”

  Her mother pulled her into a tight hug. Despite their differences, Ariene did love her. Even if she is batshit crazy sometimes.

  “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered into her shoulder.

  She nodded once and abruptly pulled away. “Right. Let’s get you ready.”

  San Francisco, CA

  June 6th

  At some point few nights before, a message had come through from Cameron. Penelope didn’t read it until morning.

  “It occurred to me there should be footage of more of these attacks, not personal video but surveillance shit.”

  Her chest tightened as she scrolled down, knowing and dreading where he was going with it. Paranoia and panic oozed from his every word.

  “I’m gonna try and track down those videos, if they still exist. When you talk to your brother, make sure he sees those videos. He needs to know what’s happening to people. I’m not saying he’s responsible, but he has to stop it. Pen, you know this has to be stopped.”

  A big part of her had wanted to call Cameron and try to talk some sense into him. The other part hoped he’d get arrested doing whatever it was he was going to do and maybe get the help he needed. She didn’t think he was a danger to himself, but it was getting dangerously close. Rather than turn him into Hung or someone else at the hospital, it’d be far better for him to do it by his own actions. Penelope had consciously ignored the message, hoping he’d leave her alone.

  Be careful what you wish for, Penelope thought as she walked into work, looking around for Cameron’s car. After their argument, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Maybe ignoring his last message had been more devastating than she thought. Perhaps he was giving her time and space to get in touch with James, but that didn’t feel right either. In any case, she’d pushed him away so hard, he’d completely fallen off the radar. Not even a glimpse from a distance.

  He’d always been a delicious poison in her life. From the moment they met in undergrad, they attracted and repelled each other in the most destructive ways. Even when she pushed him away, her other hand was pulling him back. He’d nearly cost her everything and now when her life was finally getting back on track, she was getting pulled in again.

  It wasn’t like Cameron to disappear. He never employed subtle manipulation to get his way, making her chase after. No, he was more of a blunt-force kind of guy. And given his last message, she felt justified for being concerned. As she dumped her things in her office and tried calling him, she told herself this wasn’t like the other times.

  No answer. She sent him a message, but like the others, it was never read.

  Penelope tried to be subtle in her search only to find out others were just as curious. Cameron wasn’t just avoiding her. He hadn’t shown up for the last four shifts. Concern quickly elevated to genuine worry and although she’d been avoiding it, she forced herself to check upstairs. She tried to calm her concerns as she jogged up the emergency stairway.

  He wouldn’t hurt himself. No, he might’ve been a little paranoid and spread thin, but I didn’t see any indication he might self-harm. Maybe he took my advice and actually took time off.

  But even in her own head, the explanations rang hollow.

  Penelope hadn’t stepped foot on the containment floor in days. She’d taken a back-seat on the patients’ cases, advising rather than direct treatment. It was easy to forget each case file was a human being and that the floor was overflowing. No amount of mental fortification could’ve prepared her for the scene she walked into.

  The emergency fire door swung open into a scene of ordered, clinical evacuation. Unfamiliar staff in white coats wheeled the comatose patients out like a quiet synchronized team. The officers who’d become familiar sentries were nowhere to be found. Instead, men in dark uniforms stood in the center of the hall, keeping watch over the progress. No one noticed her arrival at the back and she considered slipping away unnoticed. She probably would have if she’d noticed Dr. Hung before it was too late.

  “Who’s in charge here?” she demanded. “Where are you taking all these people?”

  A man in black turned to face her. His expression was that of supreme, military confidence. She steeled herself as the space shrank between them.

  “I’m Dr. Penelope…”

  The man interrupted with a thin smile. “Mercier, yes. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” The pleasant words were filled with a subtle threat. I know who you are.

  She had to dodge out of the way of a poorly maneuvered bed. “Who are you? Where are you taking them?”

  “The burden of these patients has put a great strain on the hospital, as I’m sure you’re well aware. So the care of these patients has been outsourced to us.”

  Penelope sputtered. The idea of anything like that happening, especially at such a large scale… it’d never been done before.

  “Why weren’t we told?” she whispered, watching as the floor was drained of perfectly still patients.

  “I didn’t know I had to ask your permission,” a less friendly voice answered. Her eyes snapped to Dr. Hung who’d joined the conversation. He lifted his chin defiantly. “The CDC has kindly offered to take the brunt of patient care from us.”

  The man in black scratched at his square jaw. “They’ll be treated well at our facility.”

  Penelope blinked back and forth between the two men. She wanted to ask to see paperwork of the transfer. She wanted to demand to see the stranger’s credentials. Everything told her these two men were lying right to her face and there was nothing she could do. The smirk on Hung’s face revealed he also knew who was in the power position.

  “That’s great. Well then, I won’t get in your way,” she replied as she stepped around them to the main swinging doors.

  “I’ll need all your notes, doctor,” the man called out.

  “You got it,” she replied over her shoulder. She couldn’t get out of that ward fast enough.

  Once outside in the hall, she was aware they could see which way she turned. There was no way she’d be allowed to follow these patients out of the hospital. Deliberately turning in the opposite direction, she walked as quickly as she could to the security office, calling Cameron along the way. No answer, but she left a voice message for the first time.

  “I don’t know where the hell you are, but shit is going down over here. They’re taking them. A
ll of them,” she hissed.

  Over the years, she’d gotten to know most of the security personal who worked in the hospital. Many of her patients had violent histories and she’d request to have someone stand outside just in case. She rarely needed to call them for assistance, but it’d created a sense of sibling protection in many of them. The friendly rapport she’d developed was about to pay off.

  She rapped on the open door of the darkened room and popped her head inside, happy to see Anderson inside. “You got a minute?”

  He seemed to snap out of a dreamy state, eyes clearing as he recognized her. “For you? Anytime.” She bent down to give him a one-armed hug. “Haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. It’s been so busy,” Penelope waved. “And here I am, asking a favor. Kinda time sensitive.”

  Anderson combed his fingers through his beard. “You name it.”

  “Is there any way I can get a look at the exterior cameras right now? There should be a few ambulances or…”

  He snorted, clicked a few times at the console, and brought up exactly what she was looking for. “Or a dozen creepy blacked out trucks driving off with patients? Yeah.” He frowned up at her. “How’d you know about this?”

  “I went to check on a patient. Don’t think I was meant to see it,” she muttered. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Like a mechanical conveyor belt, the hospital beds were wheeled one by one onto the trucks. She counted six per truck before the back closed and they drove away.

  “I don’t think anyone was meant to. I was told eye’s off the North side of the hospital for the next two hours.”

  Penelope gave him a sidelong look. “Which means…”

  “I’m recording it in duplicate,” he grinned back.

  “Good man.”

  “I do what I can,” he chuckled.

  Penelope didn’t know what more she could do. It’s not like she could stop the trucks or even track where they were going. This was obviously a well-monitored operation. She was grateful the meat-head upstairs showed his cards. If they knew who she was, it stood to reason they’d be watching.