The Complete Strain Trilogy: The Strain, The Fall, The Night Eternal. Guillermo Toro del

came the order, and Jim Kent put his on, anxious for sunlight’s return. He glanced around, looking for Eph—everyone from the press conference, including the governor and the mayor, had been invited up into the tower cab for the viewing—and, not seeing him, assumed that Eph had slipped back to the maintenance hangar.

      In fact, Eph had used this enforced time-out in the best way he knew: by grabbing a chair as soon as the sun had disappeared and going through a packet of construction diagrams showing cutaway views and schematics of the Boeing 777, ignoring the occultation altogether.

      The End of Totality

      THE END WAS MARKED by an extraordinary phenomenon. Dazzling prominences of light appeared along the western edge of the moon, combining to form a single bead of dazzling sunlight, like a rip in the darkness, giving the effect of a blindingly radiant diamond set upon the moon’s silver ring. But the price for such beauty, despite a vigorous public service campaign dedicated to eye safety during the occultation, was that more than 270 people across the city, 93 of them children, suffered permanent blindness by watching the sun’s dramatic reappearance without wearing proper eye protection. There are no pain sensors in the retina, and the afflicted did not realize they were damaging their eyes until it was too late.

      The diamond ring expanded slowly, becoming a band of jewels known as “Baily’s beads,” which merged into the reborn crescent of the sun, essentially pushing the interloping moon away.

      On earth, the shadow bands returned, shimmering over the ground like inaugural spirits heralding the passing from one form of existence to another.

      As natural light began filling back in, the human relief on the ground was epic. Cheers and hugs and spontaneous applause. Automobile horns sounded all across the city, and Kate Smith’s recorded voice sang over the loudspeakers at Yankee Stadium.

      Ninety minutes later, the moon had completely departed from the path of the sun, and the occultation was over. In one very real sense, nothing at all had happened: nothing in the sky had been altered or otherwise affected, nothing had changed on earth except for the few minutes of late-afternoon shade across the northeastern United States. Even in New York itself, people packed up afterward as though the fireworks show was over, and those who had traveled away from home transferred the focus of their dread from the occluded afternoon sun to the traffic awaiting them. A compelling astronomic phenomenon had cast a shadow of awe and anxiety across all five boroughs. But this was New York, and when it was over—it was over.

AWAKENING

Regis Air Maintenance Hangar

      Eph returned to the hangar by electric cart, leaving Jim behind with Director Barnes, giving Eph and Nora some breathing room.

      The hospital screens had all been wheeled away from beneath the 777’s wing, the tarp pulled up. Ladders were now hung from the fore and aft exit doors, and a gang of NTSB officials was working near the aft cargo hatch. The aircraft was being regarded as a crime scene now. Eph found Nora wearing a Tyvek jumper and latex gloves, her hair pulled up under a paper cap. She was dressed not for biological containment but for simple evidence preservation.

      “That was pretty amazing, huh?” she said, greeting him.

      “Yeah,” said Eph, his sheaf of airplane schematics under his arm. “Once in a lifetime.”

      There was coffee set out on a table, but Eph instead plucked a chilling milk carton from its bowl of ice, tore it open, and emptied it down his throat. Ever since giving up liquor, Eph, like a calcium-hungry toddler, craved whole milk.

      Nora said, “Still nothing here. The NTSB is pulling out the cockpit voice recorder and the flight data recorder. I’m not sure why they think the black boxes will work when everything else on the airplane failed catastrophically, but I guess I admire their optimism. So far, technology has gotten us exactly nowhere. We’re twenty hours in now, and this thing is still wide open.”

      Nora was perhaps the only person he had ever known who worked better and smarter through emotion rather than the other way around. “Anyone been through the inside of the plane since the bodies came out?”

      “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

      Eph carried his schematics up the wheeled stairs and into the aircraft. The seats were all empty now, and the lighting inside was normal. The only other difference from Eph’s and Nora’s perspective was that they were no longer sealed inside contact suits. All five senses were available to them now.

      Eph said, “You smell that?”

      Nora did. “What is it?”

      “Ammonia. That’s part of it.”

      “And … phosphorous?” The odor made her wince. “Is this what knocked them out?”

      “No. The plane is clean for gas. But …” He was looking around—looking around for something they could not see. “Nora, go get the Luma wands, would you?”

      While she went back out for them, Eph went throughout the cabin closing the window shades, as they had been the night before, darkening the cabin.

      Nora returned with two Luma light wands that emitted a black light, similar to the one used on amusement park rides, that made laundered white cotton glow spectrally. Eph remembered Zack’s ninth birthday party at a “cosmic” bowling alley, and how every time Zack smiled, the boy’s teeth shone bright white.

      They switched on the lights, and immediately the dark cabin was transformed into a crazy swirl of colors, a massive staining all throughout the floor and over the seats, leaving dark outlines of where the passengers had been.

      Nora said, “Oh my God …”

      Some of the glowing substance even coated the ceiling in a splashed-out pattern.

      “It’s not blood,” said Eph, overwhelmed by the sight. Looking through to the aft cabin was like staring into a Jackson Pollock painting. “It’s some sort of biological matter.”

      “Whatever it is, it’s sprayed all over the place. Like something exploded. But from where?”

      “From here. From right where we are standing.” He knelt down, examining the carpet, the smell more pungent there. “We need to sample this and test it.”

      “You think?” said Nora.

      He stood again, still amazed. “Look at this.” He showed her a page of the airplane schematics. It diagrammed emergency rescue access for the Boeing 777 series. “See this shaded module at the front of the plane?”

      She did. “It looks like a flight of stairs.”

      “Right in back of the cockpit.”

      “What’s ‘OFCRA’ stand for?”

      Eph walked down to the galley before the cockpit door. Those very initials were printed on a wall panel there.

      “Overhead flight crew rest area,” said Eph. “Standard on these long-distance big birds.”

      Nora looked at him. “Did anybody check up here?”

      Eph said, “I know we didn’t.”

      He reached down and turned a handle recessed in the wall, pulling open the panel. A trifolding door revealed narrow, curving steps leading up into the dark.

      “Oh, shit,” said Nora.

      Eph played his Luma lamp up the stairs. “I take it that means you want me to go first.”

      “Wait. Let’s get somebody else.”

      “No. They won’t know what