Unbreakable by C. C. Hunter Page B

Mindy, and … Tami. He remembered the light.

November 1, 4 p.m.
    News Flash: Update
    Four confirmed dead in plane crash on Jasper Mountain Range
    After a nearly six-hour trek to the crash site, the Search and Rescue (SAR) and Mountain Rescue Association (MRA) converged on the wreckage of the Cessna 210. Sheriff Ted Carter of Jasper County confirmed getting the report twenty minutes ago that four bodies have been found at the crash site of the plane flown by Dr. Edward Tallman and carrying four passengers. The friends and family of the victims already in Jasper have been notified. Identification of the bodies has yet to be made. But regrettably, the emergency crew does not anticipate finding any survivors. The crash site was worse than they had originally suspected, and it is believed that the last remaining passenger could have been thrown from the plane or is lying among the charred remains.
    Sheriff Ted Carter was quoted saying, “On behalf of Jasper County, I offer my sincere condolences to the family and friends of the individuals who lost their lives today. As we continue to monitor the situation, our thoughts and prayers are with the loved ones of those who were on board.”
    More updates will be made when available.
    Â 
    Oct. 31, 4:45 p.m.
Chapter Seven
    Had these men really said his family was dead? Chase let his head fall back down. No, he couldn’t accept that. Couldn’t believe they were gone. He fought to keep his eyes open, wanting to ask again—to beg them to be wrong. To save his family. The two men appeared over him. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Black spots, like fireworks, started popping off in his vision. He couldn’t make out their faces, but he saw their shapes.
    Then he saw … he saw their eyes. Glowing. Bright lime green. What the hell was wrong with his vision?
    One of the men crouched down beside him, the snow crunching beneath the heels of his shoes. It was the guy in the lab coat. Chase couldn’t make out his face, but he saw his eyes, still glowing, and the white coat.
    â€œDamn it,” the man said, looking up at the guy wearing black who stood over Chase. “He’s a carrier. Did we bring gloves?”
    â€œNo,” the other man said.
    The dizziness had Chase closing his eyes, but he listened. Their voices were distant—as if on a radio in another room. He tried to pick up his right arm, but couldn’t.
    â€œWe’re here, kid,” one of them said and Chase felt his body shift slightly as if someone was moving the snow from around him. “Damn it. If I touch him I risk activating the virus. He’s in bad shape. He wouldn’t be able to survive the turn.”
    â€œI disagree,” the deeper voice said. “It’s his only chance to survive.”
    â€œHe’s too weak. It’ll kill him,” the other voice argued.
    â€œProbably, but he’s dying anyway. Turn him and at least he has a chance. It might not be much of one, but it’s the best shot he has.”
    He was dying. He thought hearing it would have caused him to react. He didn’t. He thought of the light tunnel where he’d seen his family. He wanted to go there.
    Chase opened his eyes to tell them it was okay. He couldn’t speak but he stared at the blurry figures. One of the men passed something to the other.
    Chase blinked the ice from his lashes and saw the man in the white lab coat holding a knife. Chase’s heart thumped once in fear. Then he watched as the man turned the knife on himself. He put the knife to his palm and gripped it. Blood, one drop at a time, dripped from his clenched fist.
    Chase didn’t react to it because somehow it didn’t seem to matter. He was dying and he was going to go to the light.
    As Chase stared, the guy dropped the knife in the snow. Then he pressed his bleeding palm to Chase’s arm, to an open wound he had there. The touch wasn’t nearly as