Page 37 of Wild Tempest

"They made a virus that invades the brain and causes swelling and inflammation. It results in paranoia, aggression, violence, hallucinations, and psychosis. Similar to West Nile or rabies. It also has a cholinergic effect like sarin or VX gas.”

"Well, that sounds like a lot of fun," Jack snarked.

"The virus can be aerosolized and can remain viable on surfaces and in food for an extended length of time. According to this, we should be on the lookout for fever, sweats, agitation, narrowing of the pupils.”

Jack shook his head. "I told you we shouldn’t have stepped foot into that lab. But no, we’re already exposed," he mocked.

"Well, look on the bright side. According to this," I said, waving the notebook around, "onset of symptoms typically occurs within 1 to 2 hours after exposure. If we make it past that window, we're good.”

Jack frowned at me. "Obviously, Dale recovered from the virus.”

I shrugged. "Has he?”

“Maybe he was a little off to begin with,” JD muttered. “We don’t know what normal is for him. And what am I supposed to do if you go batshit crazy on me?"

I gave him a flat look.

"I'm just saying. I'd hate to have to shoot you.”

I frowned at him. “Nobody’s shooting anybody. We’re going to get back to the Titan and get the hell out of here. I’ll swim to the Titan if I have to. It’s not that far.”

Jack laughed. “It is in this weather. You’d be a fool to attempt that now.”

“Might be our only chance.”

We left the lab, moved aft through a corridor, and stepped through a hatch to the aft deck. We looked across the angry swells, through the pelting rain and hazy air.

The Titan Deep was still barely visible.

“How far do you think that is?” I asked, contemplating the swim.

“A mile. Maybe a little farther.”

“That’s doable.”

Jack scoffed. “Those are 15-foot swells. On your best day, that’s borderline suicidal.”

Every second I stood there contemplating it, the weather got worse, and the Morya drifted farther away.

“Wait till the weather clears,” Jack said. “Maybe the current will put us a little closer. I mean, how am I going to explain it if you get yourself killed?”

“We all gotta die sometime,” I said, trying to make myself feel better about the situation. I wasn’t keen on dying anytime soon.

Jack was right. After a moment’s thought, I decided against the swim. Too risky. I’d wait for an option with better odds. At present, our options were pretty slim.

There was no power on the boat. The engines had sat still for at least half a decade. Even if there was fuel on board, we’d have a hard time getting those engines started. The fuel had likely degraded, and there was probably water contamination along with sludge and biofilms. The diesel engines were likely rusted and corroded. Seized pistons, rotten seals and gaskets, broken down and acidic oil. Fouled lift and injection pumps. Corroded wiring would wreak havoc on the electrical system.

It was a long shot, but JD and I searched the boat, looking for any remaining life rafts that could get us back to the Titan Deep.

No dice.

If we looked hard enough, we might be able to find enough material to fashion some sort of raft. But that would take time and wouldn’t be feasible in this weather.

We returned to Dale’s stateroom to check on his condition.

"How's he doing?" I asked Tempest.

"He's hanging in there," she said.