Free Domain of the Dead by David Moody, Iain McKinnon, Travis Adkins Page A

prospects are the same as they’ve ever been,” Nathan joked.
    “We got sidetracked,” Sarah interjected. “What’s causing the walking death?”
    “It looks like a virus,” Dr. Robertson answered.
    Sarah caught her gaze, “What do you mean by looks like ?”
    “It’s all bit technical,” Dr. Robertson said dismissively.
    “Humour me,” Sarah said.
    “Okay. Well, it has all the appearance of an enveloped virus, but we haven’t been able to extract any of the genome, only the host’s.”
    “Won’t DNA tell you where it comes from, like the AIDs and monkey thing?” Nathan asked.
    “Well, not quite,” Dr. Robertson responded. “If we can sequence it, it won’t tell us anything for sure, just narrow down the search.”
    “What do you mean it has the appearance of an enveloped virus?” Sarah asked.
    “It doesn’t lysed its host cell it—”
    “You what?” Nathan butted in.
    Sarah turned to him and explained, “It means it doesn’t destroy the host cell. Most viruses pop the cell they invade like a balloon, spreading copies of themselves in the process.”
    “I’m impressed,” Dr. Robertson said. “You obviously have a good grasp of biology. Were you a nurse?”
    Sarah gave the tiniest of smiles. “I was studying at university before…”
    “Medicine?” Dr. Robertson’s voice held a note of excitement.
    “Inorganic Chemistry,” Sarah said.
    “Oh.” The excitement was lower but Dr. Robertson was still interested. “Well, maybe you’d like to assist Professor Cutler and me.”
    “I don’t know,” Sarah said.
    Dr. Robertson nodded. “No, I understand it’s been a busy day for you all, I dare—”
    A loud crash drew their attention to the corner of the room as a metal lid thundered its way off the workbench onto the floor. Now open, a silver container bubbled a cloud of steam down its sides and onto the desk. Beside it, Jennifer stood, looking panicked.
    With a calm, slow voice and an unblinking gaze, Dr. Robertson addressed the girl. “Back up slowly to Nathan now, Jennifer.”
    Hearing the doctor’s measured voice, Jennifer shot a scared look at Sarah.
    Gently, Sarah simply nodded.
    As Jennifer backed into Nathan’s arms, Dr. Robertson opened a drawer and donned a thick, flame retardant glove. She retrieved the lid and secured it back onto the container.
    “I’m sorry,” Jennifer said, with a tremor in her voice and a sheepish look on her face.
    “It’s okay honey, just don’t go touching stuff in here,” Dr. Robertson said, replacing the glove.
    “What is it?” Sarah asked.
    “Just liquid nitrogen,” Dr. Robertson said. “Nut if she had spilt it on herself…”
    “That’s that stuff you see on science programs where they dip a flower in and it shatters like glass,” Nathan blurted enthusiastically, keen to show his education included something other than shooting squirrel.
    Bending down to eye level, Dr. Robertson spoke to Jennifer. “How would you like to go next?”
    Jennifer nodded slowly, unable to refuse after her mishap.
    “All this balloon popping,” Nathan began as he lifted Jennifer onto the gurney, “does that tell you how it started?”
    Dr. Robertson looked at Sarah, who was wearing an apologetic smile. “Well, it reproduces using the host cell and sending out copies of itself cocooned in parcels of the cell membrane.” She looked at Nathan. “It’s kind of like wearing a space suit because the virus can’t survive outside the body.” Happy Nathan had grasped the analogy, she returned her focus to Sarah.
    Sarah took her glance as in invitation for another question: “So it is dormant outside a host unlike a bacteria?”
    “Well, here’s an interesting thing, Sarah,” Dr. Robertson explained. “Its envelop gives it a short window outside the body, no more than a few hours, but after that it dies. Some viruses can lie dormant almost indefinitely, but not this one.” She attached an automated blood pressure cuff on Jennifer without