The Plague Forge [ARC] by Jason M. Hough Page B

aircraft.”
    “Okay. We’re coming back. Pablo found a key ring.”
    The man on the landing pad stood and began to walk—no, creep—around the aircraft. It took all the willpower Tania had to remain still, knowing she’d killed the lights in the cabin upon landing, which meant her window would be dark. She moved back a little, just to be safe.
    A sudden blinding light fell upon her, and she leapt backward. A flashlight, she realized with dread. She moved away from the door, stumbled on the water bottle she’d left on the ground, and almost fell. Her heart raced. Had he heard that? The light slid away, then swept across the window, then fixed on the window again. Tania willed herself to calm. Maybe he hadn’t seen her after all.
    “We’re coming out,” Vanessa said quietly in Tania’s ear. “What’s happening now? Where is he?”
    Tania gathered her wits and pressed herself against the wall by the aircraft door. The light became very bright and began to dart around the inside of the cabin. “He’s right at the door. Has a flashlight. I think he saw me.”
    “Relax, Tania,” Vanessa said. “Don’t assume he means harm. He’s just a survivor, probably saw us land and came to see what was going on. We might be the first people he’s encountered since the virus swept through here.”
    The words made perfect and complete sense, or at least would if she hadn’t seen the way the man moved. Curious didn’t apply. Tania thought him more like a thief trying to find an open window.
    “We see him, almost there,” Vanessa said.
    Once again the light shifted away from the window. Tania heard something soft and mechanical. She looked down to see the large door lever starting to turn.
    “Oh God!” she exclaimed, and grabbed it with both hands. She pushed it back with more force than she’d intended. The man outside reacted a split second later, pushing from his side. Tania strained, squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned into the lever arm, and pushed with both arms. The lever remained caught between two positions.
    Then, one horrid centimeter at a time, it began to move in his favor.
    “No …” Tania grunted. She gave up a few centimeters to get better footing, then shoved with every bit of strength she had. Still the lever arm ratcheted toward open.
    Vanessa spoke in her ear. “What is it?”
    “He’s trying to open the door.” The words came out like an angry growl. A burning sensation began to rise in Tania’s shoulders and at the base of her spine. For one fleeting second she wanted to laugh. Months of training and all of it worthless now. And yet she knew that was dishonest. A year ago she wouldn’t have been able to push back on the handle at all. She’d been soft. Not anymore. “Hurry, dammit!” she shouted.
    Through the strain she turned and glanced at the porthole beside her. Centimeters away from her was the gaunt face of a survivor. He had a shaggy beard and wore spectacles. His weathered skin was filthy, and as he strained to move the door handle she saw a row of dirty, uneven teeth in his snarling mouth.
    She met his gaze. The man might be an immune, but his eyes had the same insanity that a subhuman’s did.
    “You! Step away!” Vanessa’s voice.
    The man ignored the command. Maybe he hadn’t heard it; maybe he didn’t understand English. The door latch clicked into the open position. One pull from the outside and the cabin would flood with contaminated air.
    I’m going to die. Or worse.
    “My suit,” Tania said breathlessly. She shot a glance across the cabin, looking for the case. With horror she realized it wouldn’t matter. The suit would fill with the same air as she put it on in, and there was no way she’d get it on before he opened the door. “No time.” She turned toward the door instead, braced one foot against the wall, and pulled the handle toward her, hoping against hope she could keep it closed with the seal integrity intact. She only needed to last until the