The sea rushed in. A geyser of black water and shredded Zed parts shot through the control room. We lost four men. The Psara plummeted like a rock to four-twenty meters. The hull buckled. But we collapsed the vent.
It reminded us that in the face of an overwhelming, faceless threat, human ingenuity—the ability to "observe and react"—is our greatest weapon.
The deepest horror wasn't the virus; it was the realization that the virus was evolving. Reports were coming in from Singapore of "The Blind Spots"—zombies that had begun to react to scent rather than just visual health. The camouflage was failing.