Chapter Four

Screeches were echoing through the place. Distant screams too. Jim hoped his crew were alright as the harrowing noises died away. He fumbled his way along the wall, face pressed close against the stone as if it would enable him to learn more about what was going on outside. After many minutes of silence, he buckled against a pile of misshapen bricks.

He tried the communicator again. No word since they had lost contact with Bones. Jim closed his eyes and started praying, not really knowing what good it would do. Really, he should have been helping Spock move the rubble but he was just so exhausted. His eyes shot open again. No, if he kept them shut a moment more, he would fall asleep and that would be selfish of him. He staggered to his feet, one arm cradling his ribs and got back to sorting out the rubble as best he could.

"Rest," said Spock. "I am managing quite sufficiently."

"The hell you are," Jim sighed.

"I am using a Vulcan mind technique which allows me to prevent pain from being an encumbrance," he said. "Therefore, I am more able to remove these rocks than you are, at this moment."

"Any chance you can teach me this Vulcan trick of yours?"

"I am not certain," he replied, lifting yet another rock. As he did so, a small beam of light poured in through the gap. Jim's face lit up but Spock did not seem to consider this a success. Well, at least not outwardly. "Humans have a different brain structure," he said instead, hardly acknowledging the gap. "It would be difficult-" he paused, stumbled and dropped the rock he had been carrying. Jim dived forward but Spock managed to stop himself from falling.

"Your human side showing itself?" said Jim, placing a hand on his arm. Spock pulled away.

"Apologies," he said. "Vulcans are naturally averse to unexpected physical contact. I did not mean-"

"That must piss Uhura off," smirked Jim, cutting him off. Was that irritation he could see?

"I would rather not discuss this," said Spock weakly, slowly lowering himself to the floor, back against the wall, eyes closed. Jim wished someone would come and find them already.

"You're not okay are you," he said, feeling useless. "Can I do anything?"

"I am unsure. I do not know...what is wrong." Under most other circumstances, Jim would find it funny when Spock didn't know something, but this time it was disconcerting.

"Come on," he said in encouragement, one eye up against the gap in the wall. "We're almost out. We'll be alright. I promise." He squinted through the tiny gap and saw only the vast nothingness. Where was the team? Had they gone off in a completely different direction? Jim started to wonder if all the digging had been for nothing.

"Those creatures we heard," he mumbled, half to himself. "They killed the people living here, didn't they?" Spock opened his eyes.

"It is probable," he said.

"Why don't they register as life forms?"

"When you eliminate the possible..." Spock trailed off, as if he could not quite remember the words he was looking for.

"You don't think they're alive? So...robots? Some form of advanced weaponry? No, wait, Uhura said they were domestic animals. Mechanically engineered? Oh, I dunno." He sat down and leant against the wall, next to Spock.

"Reanimated."

"I'm sorry, what?" said Jim, tilting his head to look at his science officer, to see if he could figure out if he was joking or not. It was always difficult with Spock.

"In those old Earth stories," he said quietly. "You would most likely have heard them referred to as zombies or the living dead." Jim looked at his friend with an incredulous look on his face. How hard had Spock hit his head?

"Yeah," said Jim, "but they're not real. That's the point."

"Centuries ago, our technology would have been referred to as magic," explained Spock. "Alien lifeforms were unheard of. Reanimated corpses are theoretically possible...a virus could have caused these creatures to turn on their masters."

"Maybe," he replied, still not convinced. "There's gotta be another explanation."

They sat in silence for a while after that. All the talk of 'zombies' had made Jim feel jumpy. Every little sound made him lift his head. He wanted to get back to moving the stones but at the same time, he didn't want to leave Spock's side. No matter how calm he was being, Jim could tell he was in a lot of pain. Besides, they didn't even know if they were even heading in the right direction anymore. He hated waiting to be rescued. Wasn't he meant to be the one who always had a plan? A captain should not get into stupid situations like this, he scolded himself.

"Jim," said Spock. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply. Jim put his hand on Spock's shoulder and this time, he didn't pull away. "What I said earlier, about a virus."

"I'm sure we'll be able to figure out what's going on when we get back to the ship," he replied. "It won't be long now." He hoped.

"I am not sure I will be able to go back," said Spock.

"Course you will," said Jim but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What are you talking about?" There was more silence. Spock slipped a little lower down the wall and Jim felt like he was waiting for a doctor to give him a deadly diagnosis. He wasn't too far off in his fears.

"I think I have it," said Spock.

"Based on what evidence? It's not like you to be illogical."

"Are you making fun of me, Captain?"

"Don't I always," said Jim through a scared smile. "Look, I'm gonna move some more rock. You just shut up and save some energy. I have a feeling we'll need it if we come face to face with any of these living dead you're so keen to talk about."