?We?re within a hundred yards of a recent outbreak,? I said. ?They can do just about whatever they want.? I walked toward the gates. The chit on my bag flashed and they swung open, letting me enter the ranch grounds. There were no blood tests on this side of the hazard zone. If I wanted to enter a known infection site when I was already infected, I?d just finish my transition behind a pre-established barrier. Not exactly what most people would consider a loss.
The gates shut behind me, only to open again as Shaun approached, and a third time for Rick. Only one person was allowed to pass at a time. If they?d followed standard procedure, the gates would also be electrified, with a current set to increase exponentially if anything grabbed hold. It wouldn?t do much to stop a horde of zombies that really wanted to get through, but it was better than nothing.
?Dropping the first fixed-point camera, setting the feed to channel eight, and activating screamers,? Shaun said, planting a small tripod. It extended an antenna, flashing yellow as it caught the local wireless. It would record everything it saw and feed it to the databases in the van. We wouldn?t get anything useful unless there was an outbreak while we were on the grounds, but it never hurts to cover your bases. More important, it would sound the alarm if it detected any motion not connected to one of the team?s identifying beacons. ?George, we have a map??
?We have a map,? I confirmed, pulling out my PDA and unfolding the screen to its full extension. ?Buffy pulled it down before she left.? God bless Buffy. No team is complete without a good technician, and the word for an incomplete team is usually ?fatality.? ?Cluster round, guys.? They did.
The Ryman family ranch was laid out in the pre-Rising style, with a few adjustments to account for the increased security required by the senator?s political career and the possibility of invasion by the rampaging undead. Most of the buildings were unconnected, with four separate horse barns?one for foaling, one for yearlings, one for older horses, and the last, constructed in isolation and using modern quarantine procedures, for the sick. The main house had more windows than any sane person would be comfortable with, but that had apparently suited the Rymans just fine.
Shaun studied the map before asking, ?Do we have the outbreak grid??
?We do.? I started tapping. ?Either of you boys care to place a bet as to where the outbreak started??
?Isolation ward,? Rick said.
?Foaling,? said Shaun.
?Wrong.? I hit enter. A grid appeared, crisscrossing the map with streaks of red. The largest red zone surrounded the yearling barn, covering the entire building and extending out in all directions. ?The first outbreak was in the yearling barn. Where the strongest, healthiest, most resistant horses were housed.?
Shaun frowned. ?I don?t know much about horses, but that seems a little funny to me. We have a full match-up on the index case??
?Ninety-seven percent certainty on the Nguyen-Morrison,? I said, pulling up a picture of a pale gold horse with a white streak down its nose. ?Ryman?s Gold Rush Weather. Yearling male, not gelded, clean vet reports every three months since birth, and a clean blood test registered every week for the same time period. No history of elevated virus levels. If you were looking for the cleanest horse on the planet, epidemiologically speaking, you?d have trouble going wrong with this one.?
?And he?s our index?? said Rick. ?That?s bizarre. Maybe something bit him??
?They logged every movement these horses made, all day, every day.? I closed the files, snapping the screen of my PDA into its collapsed formation before slipping it into my shoulder bag. ?Goldie went out for a run the night before the outbreak, was rubbed down, and checked out clean, with no wounds or scratches. He didn?t leave the barn again before things went south.?
?None of the other horses top out in the Nguyen-Morrison?? Shaun reached into his own bag, pulling out a collapsible metal rod that he began uncollapsing as the three of us moved, by unspoken accord, toward the side of the ranch where the barns were clustered. If there was evidence to be found, it would be in the barns.
?The closest is the horse in the stall next to his, Ryman?s Red Sky at Morning, which tested out at a ninety-one and had visible bite marks. Six percent pretty much says Goldie?s our index.?
?The only way that could happen is spontaneous amplification,? Shaun said, with a deep frown. He snapped the last segment of the rod into place and hit a button on the handle, electrifying the metal. ?No chance of heart attack or other natural death??
?Not in a place like this,? Rick said. We both looked toward him. Shaking his head, he said, ?I did a piece on modern ranching a few years back. They have those animals so monitored that if they just up and die?a heart stops, or they suffocate on a piece of feed, or whatever?someone will know immediately.?