Free Breaking Danger by Lisa Marie Rice

But they had nothing else to go on. And perhaps science had fled the world, anyway.
    The holograms were positioned in such a way that the two images were on a parallel axis. It felt like she was looking straight into Elle and Catherine’s eyes. “Go ahead, Soph,” Elle said softly.
    Sophie drew in a deep breath. “Okay. I think we can safely say that the virus knocks out the neocortex.” Both women nodded. “Catherine, I’m going to make some assumptions about neurological damage, but of course, you’re the expert—”
    Catherine waved her hand. “Not about this, my dear. I think we’re all in the dark. This is something entirely new.”
    Sophie nodded. Yes, it was.
    Okay. She was going to lay out her observations. “I suspect the virus knocks out the neocortex and also the cerebrum. Essentially what is left is the limbic brain. It’s reverse ontogeny. Basically they are almost insects, hence the swarming behavior. Their behavior, no longer human, is essentially stigmergy.”
    Catherine and Elle were nodding thoughtfully.
    Mac, Nick, and Jon all said, “What?”
    â€œStigmergy. It’s a sort of indirect coordination. An action in a crowd stimulates emulation and reinforces crowd behavior. Some headed instinctively north and others followed suit, though they are unaware of following any of the other infected consciously, because they no longer have a consciousness. They only have primitive instincts. But if there are enough of them—and I postulate about four hundred in one place at one time—they will unconsciously coordinate their actions.
    Jon was looking at the scanner, basically a field of red, the number of infected with raised temperatures almost beyond the scope of the drone. He tapped the scanner, the field widened further, without reaching the edges of the field of red. “I’d say we’re looking here at about ten thousand people. Ten thousand . . . things,” he corrected. He nudged her with his shoulder. “Tell them about the other things you’ve observed.”
    Sophie nodded. “I suspect they have lost some of their vision, particularly in the dark. Conversely, I think their olfactory sense has increased exponentially. I think they smell the uninfected. Therefore, any masking odors could be protective. Perfumes or anything that covers our natural body odor might help.”
    â€œThat’s really useful,” Nick noted. “Thanks.”
    Jon nudged her lightly again. “Tell them what you think about their life expectancy.”
    Sophie nodded. “I think there’s a definite limit to how long they can live. Their metabolism is out of control. Median body temperature is 101 degrees—a high fever—and median heart rate is 180. There are very few elderly infected left on the streets. At least, I haven’t seen any elderly in a full day of observation. Their bodies couldn’t sustain the high fever and the increased heart rates. They are also starving. They are unable to feed themselves, except”—she swallowed and waited a minute for her voice to even out—“except for the bits of humans they are biting off, which seem to me more acts of uncontrollable aggression than hunger. Actually, I haven’t seen any feeding behavior at all. I don’t even know if they are smart enough to drink water.”
    â€œThey have no instincts for self-preservation?” Mac asked.
    â€œNone, from what I have been able to ascertain. They’re walking time bombs. Walking dead, actually.”
    â€œZombies,” Jon muttered.
    She shook her head. “No, they are not zombies. They are very much alive—but they are dying, all of them. Quickly. We just need to save as many people as possible from the infection and hope that when the last one is gone . . .” Her throat hurt. Her voice wobbled. She cleared her throat. “When the last one is dead,