Remnants of the Thing
By Mike C. Kerr
Chapter 1 – skeletal remains mess with brains
‘...And my girl back home, well, she's the finest dame any you’ll ever see,’
the soldier continued.
‘Say again private?’ the captain asked, leaning forward. The spinning
blades of the helicopter hummed loudly in their heads.
‘I said, my girl’s the finest of them all!’
‘That’s great, North,’ the captain said to the soldier, ‘how ‘bout you
Weldon? Got anyone back home?’
‘Naw,’ the medic replied.
‘You even like girls?’ Burrows the engineer chided.
‘Yup,’ Weldon replied with a grin, ‘and I bet you twenty dollars I’ve been
with more women than you, old man.’
‘Take it easy there, stud,’ Burrows answered, with a laugh.
‘We’re nearing the destination, stand-by,’ the pilot's voice over the
intercom interrupted their small chat.
‘Alright, You all ready?’ the captain asked his men.
He was answered with a hearty ‘Yessir’ from each man. The helicopter slowed
down and began its descent. The captain looked outside the window into the stormy
night expecting to see an American Antarctic outpost. Instead he saw smoking
ruins. Black charcoal covered the ground and small bits of debris were being
thrown around by the wind. The huey touched on the ground and the team piled out.
The captain covered his eyes with his hand as he watched the copter disappear into
the dark storm clouds. He fumbled for the radio that was clipped onto his belt
and pressed down on the relay button on the side.
‘Colonel Whitley,’ he asked to the small black box, ‘are you there? This
is Captain Blake of Beta team’
There was a moment of static while the transmission went though.
‘Yes Blake, I’m here. What is your status?’ a weathered voice responded.
‘We've arrived at Outpost North 31. Uh, there seems to be massive explosion
damage throughout the entire base, the radio tower is down and there’s a large
sinkhole by where the storage shed should’ve been.’
Another pause of static, this time longer than the previous.
‘Okay, look for survivors; find out what happened at that base. Any document
or computer file you find, I want you to grab.’
‘Roger, sir.’
‘Whitley out.’
The transmission ended. Blake clipped the radio onto his belt then turned
to face his men. They stood either clutching their guns or clutching their arms.
‘It’s freezing out here,’ Weldon complained.
Blake grinned at his team’s medical officer and examined the wreckage before
them for someplace a bit warmer.
‘Alright men, it looks like the radio room is still intact. We’ll start
our search in there,’ Blake said motioning to a building beneath the collapsed
radio tower.
Teeth chattering, the three men followed their captain towards the remains
of the base. With the snow as thick as it was, it seemed that everything was moving
in slow motion. As they reached the entranceway, North ran ahead with his weapon
drawn to examine the hallway. Seeing it was clear, he motioned for everyone to
come forward. Burrows and Weldon came in next, followed by Blake. Blake closed
the partially open door behind him and the wind on his back disappeared. The group
stared down at the hallway they stood in. It looked like a firebug had done a
dance number down it. Just a few meters from their position the roof was gone and
wind and snow was blowing in onto them.
‘Aw fuck,’ Weldon moaned again, ‘is there anyplace down here that isn’t wide
open?’
‘If you'd pay attention, yeah,’ Burrows put in as he moved past Weldon towards
a door to their left. It was the door to the radio room. Burrows gripped the handle
and Blake nodded for him to open it. With a click the door swung open. North was
the first one in.
‘Anyone here, come out with your hands up!’ North shouted.
No one replied.
‘Take it easy, there’s no one here,’ Blake said as he walked into the room
from behind North.
The tall, muscular black man grinned and lowered his weapon. The group began
searching the room. Weldon, an athletic, if not lanky white boy, grabbed some
magazines and thumbed through them. He had just turned 22 a week ago and was the
youngest in Blake’s unit. Burrows, a pudgy middle-aged machine genius, pushed aside
some debris that was stacked in the corner, revealing a pair of dirty socks. North
walked past Blake and towards the door to stand sentry. Blake, a strong, dark
haired man of average height and lightly sun burnt skin, examined a computer on
a desk to one side. He flicked the switch on and off but the blank screen remained
the same. Blank.
‘Hey Burrows, where does the power for these outposts come from?’ Blake
asked as he rubbed the stubble growing on his face.
‘Well sir, most of it comes from the underground generator. That baby
supplies heat, lighting and well, everything,’ the engineer responded, ‘however,
each section of the base should have its own back up battery-powered generator
for emergency purposes.’
‘Think you could get one online for this room?’ Blake asked, ‘I’d like to
see what files are stored on this computer.’
‘Sure thing boss,’ Burrows responded.
The engineer began opening fuse boxes on the wall and redirecting wires.
Weldon stood by and watched, trying to look interested but obviously having no
clue what Burrows was doing. Blake walked over towards North.
‘You have any idea at what might have happened here?’ the soldier asked his
commander.
‘No idea whatsoever,’ Blake responded.
North grinned and glanced down the hallway.
‘It’s scary, ain’t it?’ he asked, ‘I mean, to think someone could go so crazy,
to get such a bad case of cabin fever that he’d nuke his entire base. I’m tellin’
you Jade, it’s twisted shit, you know what I mean?’
‘I know what you mean…’ Blake began but a loud bang and a scream from behind
cut him off. Blake and North spun around and saw the computer in smoke and Burrows
lying on the ground wearing a mask of blood.
‘What the hell happened?’ Blake asked Weldon as he brought out some gauze
bandages.
‘One moment, sir,’ Weldon replied impatiently as he wiped the blood off
Burrows face.
Blake watched as Burrows moaned in pain and Weldon pulled chunks of glass
out of his companion’s face. After about five minutes Weldon had Burrows patched
up. North came over and helped the medic pick up Burrows.
‘What happened soldier?’ Blake asked the bandaged man.
‘I, I don’t know,’ Burrows began, ‘I must have overloaded a circuit. When
I went to turn on the computer it just blew up in my face!’
Blake pushed the smoking monitor on its side and looked in.
‘There,’ Burrows called, pointing to some obscure area on the circuit board,
‘that’s the problem. A bunch of resistors and capacitors have been removed. The
computer couldn’t take the power and exploded.’
‘Why the hell were they removing parts from the computers?’ Weldon asked.
‘Maybe they was nuts,’ North muttered.
Blake frowned. The radio room held nothing of value except for that computer.
Now it was useless too.
‘Come on people,’ Blake announced, turning to face the group, ‘let’s move
on. Burrows can you walk?’
The engineer nodded his head.
‘Okay then, Weldon, you stay back and walk with Burrows. North and I will
go ahead and check out things.’
Everyone nodded and went on to their appointed duties. North and Blake
walked through the crumbling hallways dodging falling debris and avoiding open
areas where the wind would chill them to the bone. At the end of the corridor
they found the infirmary, still intact. Blake tried the door but it was locked.
‘Of all the luck,’ the captain muttered.
‘What’s going on?’ Weldon asked as he and Burrows came up behind them.
‘Found the infirmary,’ Blake said, ‘It’s locked.’
‘Figures,’ Burrows said.
‘Uh, okay, North and I are going to examine that sinkhole over there, you
two stay here undercover for us to get back.’
‘Sir, if I may argue,’ Burrows interrupted, ‘I feel that if I keep moving
I’ll be able to keep conscious easier.’
Weldon nodded in agreement. Blake looked from Weldon back at Burrows and
nodded back. The group walked over to the sinkhole and looked in. Debris was
scattered about inside it but it was too steep to just climb down. Luckily, North
was able spot a part where a ramp of snow had been formed. They were able to walk
down into it with ease. Beneath all the wood and metal, nothing too interesting
tickled their fancy besides the red hulk of a frozen fire extinguisher and a large
crate of phosphorus flares.
One thing interesting was found though. Weldon
spotted a tape player in a collapsed shack. Blake hit play and listened to the
tape with some difficulty.
It was badly damaged and nearly impossible to
understand but they were at least able to discern that it was a man from the outpost
speaking. The man on the tape said something about 'it' ripping through your
clothing and some sort of take over and a person who found shredded long johns.
Then he said that all he could do was wait and gave his name: R. J. MacReady U.S.
Helicopter Pilot North 31. After the men had listened to the tape they looked
at each other.
‘“It rips through your clothes when it takes you over?”’ North repeated,
‘the fuck’s he talkin’ ‘bout?’
‘I don’t know and frankly, I don’t want to know,’ Blake said as he put the
tape recorder in his backpack, ‘let’s just see what else we can find and get out
of here.’
The men were walking out of the pit when suddenly the radio on Blake’s belt
burst to life.
‘This… i… Pierce… w… found something… h… l… request… ng… assis… nce…’ a
static shrouded voice resonated from the box.
‘Pierce? Pierce?’ Blake asked the voice from the box. Nothing but static.
Blake, repeated his friend's name but still nothing. Blake finally stuck the radio
back on his belt and motioned for his men to continue.
They almost reach the top of the sinkhole when suddenly the ground swallowed
up Weldon. Blake and North both rushed over to the side and shouted Weldon’s name.
‘Yo Weldon! You aight?’ North called.
‘H-Hey guys, I found something,’ the medic called back, almost immediately.
The hole wasn't very deep at all and the others, including Burrows, were able to
climb down to meet Weldon. Inside, they found themselves in a small cavern beneath
the ice. Metal shone lazily in the darkness. Weldon pointed his flashlight at
the object and the others did the same. What they saw took their collective breaths
away. What the hell? Blake thought, it…
‘It looks like a god damned UFO,’ North said.
Blake looked at the broken frame. Someone had blown this thing apart with
a lot of dynamite. He couldn’t believe it.
‘A, a UFO? You mean like an alien?’ Weldon asked nervously.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Blake said trying to convince himself the object was a sham,
‘the whole “we’re not alone in the universe” scenario, eh? Photograph it and let’s
move on.’
Blake turned around and saw another glint of metal in the snow by where they
had fallen in. He picked it up and saw that it was a key. He read the label on
it: “infirmary.”
‘Figures,’ he muttered to himself.
---10 minutes later, at the infirmary--‘Man, it’s dark in here,’ exclaimed Weldon, ‘and what’s that smell?’
‘It’s the smell of death,’ North replied in a low voice, his grin hidden
in the darkness.
‘Shut up man, it’s not funny.’
‘Haha, yes it is!’
‘Cut it out. Burrows, can you help us?’ Blake asks his injured teammate.
Burrows explained to Blake how to activate the emergency generator and turn
on the electronics. Blake found the junction box and began re-routing wires and
turning the small knobs. The lights turned on.
‘Wha, what is that?’ Weldon almost shouted as he saw the corpse in the corner.
‘Death,’ North said again, the grin wavering slightly.
‘Cut it out North, you’re freaking me out!’
‘You should be freaked.’
‘Weldon, check that body. North, shut up,’ Blake commanded.
Weldon examined the body with trembling hands. His news wasn’t encouraging.
‘Well?’ Blake asked.
‘I don’t know, sir,’ the medic replied, he was definitely creeped out, ‘it
seems human but… it seems to be something else too…’
They were interrupted as North stepped forward holding a small notebook in
his hands.
‘I found this,’ he explained, ‘seems to be some sort of journal, it says
‘Blair’ on the cover.’
‘Good,’ Blake responded, ‘leave the body for the forensic team, we should
keep moving.’
The group agreed and then started back outside. They saw a decaying shack
and wandered over to it. Inside, they found a frozen corpse holding a bottle of
JB.
‘When I die, I hope I go holding one of those,’ North said jokingly.
‘Ha ha ha,’ Blake mocked with a grin as he read the name tag out loud,
‘Childs.’
The captain stood up slowly and stared at the frozen corpse. After a moment
he took the radio from his belt and lifted it to his face.
‘Whitley, come in Whitley. This is Blake, come in Whitley.’
A few seconds of static passed before the familiar gravely voice of Colonel
Whitley resounded.
‘Blake? What have you got for me?’ the voice asked.
‘A couple dead bodies: one of them intact, labeled as ‘Childs.’ The other
is rather beat up. Unrecognizably so.’
The line remained silent so Blake continued.
‘We also have a journal and a tape recording. Uh, I don't know how to say
this but...’
Blake stammered. He wondered how he should word it.
‘But? But what?’
‘Well, we found what looks like a UFO.’
There was another, longer pause.
‘I see. Okay, I want you to take the c4 charges you were given and rig them
in the base so I can remote detonate them from here.’
‘Wha, what about the bodies, sir?’ Blake asked, confused by the sudden change
of plans, 'and the UFO?'
‘They are unimportant. What’s important is that there is nothing left of
this base to be found by the Russians. Their genetics division, Rus/Gen is in heated
competition with us. Our government wouldn’t be too happy with us either if we
left anything behind, got it? Whitley out.’
Blake stood stunned for a moment. He soon realized his team watched him
and snapped back to attention.
‘Weldon, North. I’m going to ask you two to set up these c4 charges in the
base,’ Blake explained, ‘the colonel wants this place gone, so we’re going to make
it gone.’
Weldon and North glanced at each other but didn’t question Blake as he pulled
out a large amount of c4 and handed it to each of the men.
‘Don’t worry ‘bout a thing,’ North called to him, as he and Weldon went off
to the base.
Blake watched them until they were inside; he then turned to Burrows who
was sitting on the cold wood floor of the shack.
‘You alright, soldier?’
‘Sir, yes sir,’ Burrows responded quietly.
‘You seemed trouble and it doesn't seem to be the cuts on your face, either.’
‘No sir, it’s not the wound. I, I’ve just been thinking.’
‘About what?’
‘About, that tape and that UFO… that corpse and that journal…’
‘You’ve read the journal?’
‘A small bit. While you were talking to Whitley.’
‘I see.’
‘And well, I’m scared, sir.’
‘What was in the journal?’ Blake asked, now a little curious.
‘Details about some kind of new species,’ Burrows explains, ‘what it says.
The dead body and the UFO, they all seem to be connected when I read it.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Well sir, I know it's juvenille to jsut believe everything you read…’
Burrows stopped, he was thinking of another way to justify his belief in
this supposed new species.
‘Please, Burrows. We’re grown men, you don’t have to be shy.’
‘Sir, it says that the new species is in fact an alien from outer space.
An that alien could take over the world in a matter of days. It says that this
alien can take over a creature and mimic it perfectly… like a chameleon, sort of.
It, it says that if a person on your team was infected by the alien you wouldn’t
know until it was too late…’
Blake stood silent staring into Burrows dark eyes. Those eyes held pain
within them. Pain and fear. Blake was about to speak when footsteps and voices
from the infirmary dragged his attention away.
‘Done, sir,’ North reported.
‘Man, am I going to be glad to get away from that body in there,’ Weldon
mumbled to no one in particular.
‘Excellent work,’ Blake responded and pulled his radio off his belt again,
‘this is Blake contacting Whitley, come in Whitley.’
After a few moments of static the colonel came onto the line.
‘Blake? This is Whitley, have you set up the explosives?’ the gravely voice
asked.
‘Yessir, we are now standing by for evac.’
‘The chopper should be there in a moment,’ as he spoke, Blake could hear
a whirring sound approaching in the darkness.
‘Sir, how is Pierce and Alpha team holding out at the Norwegian base?’
Blake
asked.
‘We have lost contact with Alpha Squad,' Whitley paused, as if considering
something, 'I don’t want you to do anything that might put your team in risk, Blake.
Return to base.’
Of course, Blake planned on going to the Norwegian base no matter what Whitley
said.
‘I’m sorry, sir. What was that last part? Anyways, I’m going to go over
to the base with Weldon. I’m the only person on this team that speaks Norwegian.
Burrows is going with the helicopter and North because he has received injuries.’
‘Blake, don’t you dare disobey my command…’
‘Sir? You’re breaking up, sir. I can’t hear you. I’m going to send all the
documents we found with Burrows and North, okay?’
‘I’m warning you, Blake,’ the voice sounded upset.
‘Sir, I’m going to have to go off. I can’t hear you! The storm is worsening.’
Blake turned off the radio. He didn’t like lying but he knew he had to do
it. At least he wasn’t lying when he said the storm was worsening. In the time
Blake has been talking to Whitley, the helicopter had landed. North had already
helped Burrows into the vehicle and loaded up all of the evidence. Weldon stood
beside Blake.
‘Where did you say we were going?’ Weldon asked.
‘The Norwegian camp,’ Blake responded as he started towards North and the
chopper.
‘What? Why?’ Weldon asked.
‘To find Alpha team.’
‘But why do you want me to come?’ Weldon sounded worried, ‘wouldn’t North
be a better choice?’
‘Under normal circumstances yes but if anyone is injured I'll be needing
your talents.’
Weldon fell silent as they reached the copter.
‘What’s the good word, captain?’ North asked.
After they had all climbed into the chopper and lifted off Blake told North
the news.
Chapter 2 – united we stand, divided we kill each other
The two figures watched the helicopter pull away from the ground and fly
away.
‘Blake, are you there?’ Whitley’s voice crackled on the radio.
‘Yeah, I’m here,’ Blake answered after he had unclipped the box from his
belt.
‘Seems like your little stunt might have been for the best.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Blake replied raising his eyebrows.
‘Pierce contacted me a while ago. They found something,’ Whitley explained,
‘something big. They may be in danger. I want you and your team to proceed with
caution. Whitley Out.’
‘Figures,’ the captain mumbled to himself as he clipped his radio back onto
his belt.
Blake turned and saw Weldon staring in awe at the remains of the Norwegian
camp.
‘Sir, whatever happened at O.P. 31 seems to have happened here as well,’
he commented.
‘Alright soldier,’ Blake said walking over to Weldon and carefully pulling
him backwards.
‘Sir? What’s the problem?’ Weldon sounded dazed.
‘You’re standing an inch away from live high voltage cables,’ Blake explained
in a quiet but urgent voice.
Weldon’s eyes widened and he jumped backwards, falling onto his ass in the
process.
‘Calm down private,’ Blake commanded, ‘get your wits about you, your falling
apart!’
‘Yes… yessir, I’m sorry,’ Weldon apologized, shaking his head. All this
death and destruction seemed to have left him a little rattled.
After collecting themselves, the two men walked around the cables towards
the building. They arrived at an open doorway and went inside. Weldon, obviously
still shell-shocked, walked around the room in slow circles, a flare was burning
on a crate in the corner. Blake examined it.
‘This is new,’ he commented, ‘Weldon? Weldon, get over here.’
The medic came back to reality and they walked further down into the base.
They passed a storage room and looked inside. Everything seemed normal except for
a large hole in the center of the roof. It looked as if a large animal had jumped
up through the roof. They left the storage room and continued down a dark wet
hallway. Ahead of them loomed a large metal door. Blake opened it slowly and
entered the large room behind it. A noise in the corner drew his attention.
‘Who’s there?’ Blake queried raising his machine gun in a defensive stance.
‘Bl… Blake is that you? It’s me Carter,’ a voice answered.
Carter was the mechanical engineer for Pierce’s team. Carter was a tall black
man with a brain the size of Jupiter.
‘Christ,’ Blake said commenting on the room around him. Large pools of blood
covered the floor and few corpses were to be seen. ‘What the hell happened here?’
‘There was this… ugh, this thing. It attacked us. We didn’t know who was
who…
wait a minute… just where did you come from?’ Carter asked, his eyes
narrowing.
Blake could almost hear the gears spinning in Carter’s head. When Carter
gave you the look he was giving Blake now you know you were in big trouble. This
unnerved Blake but he also noticed that Carter was in no shape to do anything.
He was bleeding badly.
‘We came from a helicopter, come on Carter, your bleeding badly. Your in
no shape to argue with me,’ Blake reasoned.
‘Get away from me,’ Carter struggled to talk, ‘I don’t trust you.’
Blake raised his gun.
‘Do you want to die now? Or of blood loss later?’
Carter looked into Blake’s eyes. Blake saw anger and resentment. He also
saw fear.
‘Alright, alright. Just, just put the gun away,’ Carter succumbed.
Weldon walked over in almost a trance. The battered room had taken a toll
on him just as being a step away from death had. Pulling out his medical equipment,
he began to work on Carter’s wounds. Blake took this moment to stroll around the
room. He knelt down beside the body of a headless soldier on the ground. Grunting,
Blake rolled the body over and read the nametag. ‘Jeremy.’ Blake sighed. Jeremy
was a corporal under Pierce’s command. He was young enough to be a kid, three
years younger than Weldon and now he was dead. And where was Pierce, anyways?
Blake got up and walked over to a nearby chair. The chair was inhabited by what
seemed to be a bloody Norwegian. Wrists and neck were slashed and a shaving razor
was held in a frozen hand. Blake saw no identification tags on the jacket so he
looked on the tag on the back of the Norwegians t-shirt. On the tag a name was
scribbled on with a black felt. It was in Norwegian but Blake could still read
the name. ‘Anders.’ Moving away, Blake looked over at Carter and Weldon. The black
man was now patched up and attempting to push Weldon away. Weldon was still trying
to put on some gauze patches.
‘Calm down, Carter,’ Blake said raising his gun a little so Carter could
see it.
Carter stopped flailing and Weldon resumed his work. Blake continued around
the room. There were black scorch marks on the walls and floors where explosions
and flames once were. Stooping over, Blake found what caused the explosion. A
flamethrower. Its tank had been burst and the flames had licked the wood until
it was charcoal.
‘Sir, the patient is patched up,’ Weldon called for Blake in a far away voice.
‘I’m not your patient,’ Carter said, ‘you get the hell away from me.’
Carter’s usual violent energy seemed to have returned.
‘What’s it going to take to get you to calm down?’ Blake asked the angry
figure.
‘Give me a weapon. If you were both one of those things then I probably
wouldn’t be here. That means either neither of you are infected or one of you
is infected,’ Carter explained.
‘What are you taking about?’ Blake asked, bewildered.
‘Give me a weapon and I’ll tell you.’
‘No, you’ll shot us!’
‘Fine, if I tell you what’s going on, will you give me a weapon?’
‘Maybe,’ Blake replied, ‘what’s going on?’
‘Some kind of creature is in this base, sir,’ Carter said, eager to tell
his story and get his gun, ‘It attacks you and takes you over. We were all in
this room when all these, these things attacked us! They absorbed a couple members
of our team. We couldn’t tell who was human and who had been eaten by one of those
creatures…’
Weldon cut off Carter in mid sentence, ‘There’s something moving around in
that room.’
Blake and Carter followed Weldon’s pointing finger and looked over at where
the Norwegian ice block room was. Blake raised his gun and told Weldon to do the
same. Weldon stood, transfixed to the doorway. Carter walked over to the dazed
medic and pulled the pistol out of his hand. Blake looked over at Carter.
‘Don’t worry, sir,’ Carter seemed to have a change of heart, ‘I’ll cover
you.’
Blake nodded and moved towards the door. He looked through the window on
the door and saw a large bathtub in the middle of the room. The bathtub was made
of ice.
No, it was a block of ice that had had something removed from it.
Creatures, Carter’s voice rang in Blake’s head, they took you over, just like it
said in the journal Burrows’ had read, he thought. Blake mouthed, 1 – 2 – 3 and
kicked open the door.
‘Drop your weapons and raise your hands above your head,’ Blake yelled then
repeated the command in Norwegian.
‘Shit man! I heard you the first time,’ a familiar voice shouted back.
‘Cruz? Is that you?’ Blake asked.
Cruz was a marine from Alpha squad. He was vulgar and rude but knew how to
handle a gun.
‘Yeah it’s me! What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?’ the marine
complained.
‘Sorry, Cruz but things have been hectic lately,’ Blake explained letting
his arms drop to his sides.
‘Your telling me!’
‘What were you doing in here, Cruz?’ Carter asked, that expression once again
was held on his face, ‘Why did you run when the fighting started?’
‘Run?’ Cruz exclaimed, ‘more like chased. Look what I killed.’
Cruz pointed to a burnt pile of flesh in the corner. His face was that of
a triumphant hunter’s. Blake noticed many machine gun magazines and rounds lying
on the floor. The actual gun was also discarded on the ground. Cruz held a portable
flame unit in his hands.
‘I ran out of bullets and had to finish it off with this,’ Cruz explained
as if he could hear Blake’s thoughts.
‘Where’s Pierce?’ Blake interrupted.
‘Uh, I don’t know,’ Cruz admitted, ‘He disappeared, like everyone else.’
‘What do you mean everyone else?’ Carter snapped, ‘you disappeared as well!’
Carter seemed particularly angry with Cruz, even more so than usual.
Although recent events were probably a factor in Carter’s violent distrustful
attitude, Blake found it odd nonetheless.
‘Calm yourselves people,’ Blake interrupted, ‘Have you heard anything from
Whitley?’
‘Shit,’ Cruz began, ‘I haven’t heard shit all from anyone.’
‘Can we leave now?’ Weldon asked.
‘Just as soon as we find Pierce and the others,’ Blake replied.
The four men gathered their belongings and left the building. They started
towards the other half of the Norwegian base.
Chapter 3 – as I always say, ‘better out than in.’
Blake’s hand felt the guideline. He looked ahead and saw the glow of another
guide pole up ahead. The storm was worsening; soon visibility would be reduced
to only a few feet in front of him. He glanced back to see Weldon struggling to
keep up; Cruz was behind him urging him to press on. Behind Cruz, Blake could
barely make out Carter’s figure walking behind them. They trudged forward until
they came to a small storage shack. Blake saw that the guideline branched out
in two other directions from their position. He motioned for the others to follow
him inside the shack. Once inside Blake hit the light switch. A dim bulb came
on overhead. The room contained a desk covered in boxes, a revolving chair and
a large amount of crates. Carter and Blake sat down on a crate each while Cruz
leaned back in the chair. Weldon stood.
‘Are you okay, soldier?’ Blake asked him.
‘Ayuh,’ Weldon replied in a distant voice.
‘What’s his deal?’ Carter whispered to the captain.
‘He had a little near death experience on our way in,’ Blake responded, ‘I
hope he comes back to us soon. He’s beginning to scare me.’
Cruz heard this, nodded and walked over to Weldon. He backhanded Weldon
across the face sending him spiraling to the floor.
‘Cruz, what the hell?’ Blake shouted as he stood up.
Carter also stood up but he raised his gun as well.
‘Don’t worry you guys,’ Cruz explained matter-of-factly, ‘I saw this in a
movie. You hit the crazy guy and he comes back to reality.’
‘Cruz, this isn’t a movie!’ Blake yelled angrily.
Weldon got up from the floor and spear tackled Cruz causing them to fall
backwards onto the ground. At that moment a crate behind them blew open and what
seemed to be a giant pink spider flew at them, screaming as it came.
‘What the hell?’ Blake shouted as he brought his rifle around to aim at the
spider.
Cruz and Weldon were now shouting at the sight of the creature and were
scrambling away from it. The spider’s body looked like a human head but it had
deep black eyes and needle like teeth. Carter fired at it but missed both his shots.
‘Get away from it!’ Blake yelled again.
His machine gun was efficient but very inaccurate. Cruz was very close to
the spider.
‘Shoot it, damnit! Shoot it,’ Cruz screamed.
The spider-like head jumped at him with a hiss and bit him in the leg. Cruz
yelled out at the pain and he threw his fist at the head’s face. His hand impacted
and the spider was sent spinning across the room. Blake got a good look at the
face on the spider as it hit the wall and righted itself. What he saw filled with
horror. It was Jeremy, the corporal from Pierce’s squad. It seemed that Jeremy’s
body was headless for a reason… The head had left it behind! Not wasting a moment,
Blake pulled the trigger on his sub machine gun and let Jeremy’s face eat bullets.
The head was quickly cut down and once Blake let go of the trigger it resembled
a pound of hamburger meat. It was still moving though, crawling towards them feebly
on two spindly legs.
‘The, the fire! Use, the f…fire!’ Cruz shouted hysterically.
Weldon came up from behind Blake holding the flamethrower. The blob of
living hamburger was quickly char grilled. After a moment Weldon produced a fire
extinguisher and put out the flames. The men stood in silence.
‘What are you, w…waiting for?’ Cruz’s voice filled their ears, ‘I’m bleeding
like crazy here!’
Weldon seemed to have come back to reality. He quickly dropped his pack
and ran over to Cruz who lay on the floor with blood flowing the bite wound. Carter
stared at the bite on Cruz’s leg. Blake thought he saw Carter smirking.
‘Is their something funny about this situation, soldier?’ Blake asked
Carter, his mind was reeling.
‘What? No of course not,’ Carter replied, his voice steady, ‘I’m just glad
we survived that thing.’
‘Yeah, no thanks to you,’ Blake was scared, a man had been injured by an
alien life form; he need to blame someone for something, ‘why didn’t you hit that
thing before it bit Cruz?’
‘I swear to you, I tried,’ Carter said, ‘I was worried I’d hit Cruz though.’
Blake heard Cruz mumble, ‘ow, shit,’ in the background.
‘I don’t believe that, Carter,’ he said.
Carter’s eyes narrowed. Blake though he saw them go a little darker.
‘What are you saying? That I purposely missed that alien so that it would
bite my squad mate?’
‘No, I just don’t believe you missed,’ Blake didn’t understand why Carter
thought that that was what Blake meant, ‘I’m just upset at you for missing. I never
meant that you missed on purpose.’
‘Well we all make mistakes. I am, after all, only human,’ then Carter turned
away.
Carter’s words replayed in Blake’s head. I am, after all, only human. He
had heard that phrase before but now when he heard it, it seemed strange. Blake
didn’t know why. Behind him, Weldon helped a patched up Cruz to his feet.
‘Ow, ow, ow. Okay, thanks,’ Cruz said as he tried his foot on the ground.
‘You going to be all right, private?’ Blake asked
‘He should be fine,’ Weldon replied, ‘it was a pretty bad animal bite but
I gave him a tetanus shot. Hopefully we shouldn’t have anymore problems.’
Blake nodded and was about to ask Cruz how he was feeling when he heard
gunshots in the distance. Everyone turned around to face the direction the shots
had come from. Blake rushed outside. Opening the door, wind and cold slapped
him hard in the face. Blake looked out at the direction the sound had resonated
from and saw that one of the guidelines branched off towards it. He went back
into the shack.
‘We’re moving out, there may be someone else in trouble,’ he said to the
three figures.
They grabbed their gear and began pulling themselves along the guidelines
against the wind. Blake led them followed by Carter. Weldon took up the rear
as he helped Cruz along. As Blake pulled himself along he thought he heard Pierce
shouting up ahead. He turned around and motioned for his men to hurry. When he
turned back around he saw an explosion light up the way in front of them. About
twenty metres away stood a large building. The lights were on inside and flames
were lighting it on the outside. Blake saw Pierce run by a window from the inside
being followed by what looked like a giant corpse that had been stripped of its
skin. Shouting, Blake raised his gun and fired in the air. He ran towards the
building as fast as the snow would allow for him. Once he reached the ramp he
ran up it and kicked the door in. Heat and flames greeted him.
‘Hold it right there,’ Pierce shouted as he let go of the flamethrowers
trigger. He had nearly lit Blake on fire.
‘Chill out, Pierce,’ Blake almost yelled, ‘it’s me!’
‘I don’t know that,’ Pierce replied.
Carter and the others arrived at the door and once again Pierce was letting
flames flow.
‘Shit!’ Cruz screamed as he and Carter dove back into the snow. Weldon
rushed forward and attempted to knock Pierce down but the larger man smashed the
medic in the face with the nozzle of his torch. Weldon screamed in pain and fell
backwards holding his face. A red burn could be seen on one half of his face.
‘Please Pierce, let us in; we’ve been through a lot!’ Blake reasoned.
Pierce pondered this for a moment.
‘Alright, but you and everyone else stay in that corner over there,’ he said
as he pointed to the far end of the building, ‘I don’t want any of you coming near
me.’
---moments later--Weldon sat on a table with half of his face wrapped up in bandages. Cruz
was busy reapplying a new bandage to his own wounds. Carter stood with his pistol
watching Pierce’s movements. Meanwhile Blake tried to reason with the leader of
Alpha team.
‘What’s going on Pierce?’ Blake asked.
‘Aliens are invading the planet, my friend,’ Pierce replied.
‘Aliens?’
Pierce walked over to the burnt remains of the creature Blake had seen in
the window.
‘Like this thing right here,’ Pierce kicked the pile of cooked flesh, ‘these
aliens are nasty things too. Have you seen one of these thing in action yet, Blake?’
Blake said he hadn’t.
‘Well first the grab a hold of you with their slimy tentacles,’ Pierce
explained, ‘then they literally absorb you into their body so you look like a
writhing pile of, of…’
‘Beaten hamburger meat?’ Blake suggested.
‘Yes, that's a good metaphor for it. Anyways, then they begin to mimic you.’
‘Mimic?’
‘Let me finish,’ Pierce interrupted, ‘let's say one got a hold of our good
friend Carter.’ He pointed to the black man. Carter just glared.
‘The alien would look like Carter, act like Carter… hell, it would BE Carter,’
Pierce continued, ‘these aliens do their mimicking act so perfectly.’
‘So how do we know who’s who?’ Blake asked still a little incredulous. The
whole thing sounded quite extreme.
‘Simple, a blood test will show who’s who. You see, each part of these
creatures act alone,’ the Alpha team leader explained, ‘for example, when we were
first attacked an alien grabbed hold of Jeremy’s head. I fired my gun at it before
it could get him but unfortunately I blew his head off completely instead.’
‘How pleasant.’
‘I know. Anyways, Jeremy’s body died human while his head ran away. I don’t
know what happened to it, though…’
‘We destroyed Jeremy’s head,’ Blake put in.
‘Yeah, that bastardous thing bit me,’ Cruz complained.
‘Really?’ Pierce gave Cruz an odd look.
‘What about the blood test?’ Blake asked.
‘Yes, the blood test,’ Pierce replied, not taking his eyes away from Cruz,
‘I found this journal, a one ‘Jacobine Raleigh’s’ who seemed to be a meteorologist
for the Norges. Anyways, the Norwegians tested each other by taking a sample of
each person’s blood and burning it with acids. If the blood just burned then you
were human, if the blood reacted then you weren’t.’
‘That helps, where are we supposed to get acid?’ Carter interrupted, his
voice dripping with sarcasm.
‘That’s no problem,’ Pierce said in a cold voice, ‘acid isn’t the only thing
that burns.’
Pierce motioned to the flamethrower he held in his hands. Blake nodded.
‘Alright, lets do this,’ he said, ‘Weldon, get me some sterilized knives,
we’re going to draw a little bit of everyone’s blood.’
Weldon nodded and began rummaging through his medical supplies.
‘So who’s going to go first?’ Pierce asked Blake nonchalantly.
‘I will,’ Blake said.
‘Fair enough,’ Pierce replied, eying Cruz.
‘Okay, I got a clean blade for each person,’ Weldon said as he returned with
an assortment of surgical tools.
Blake grabbed a scalpel from the medic’s hands. He dug the blade into his
thumb’s skin and blood began to flow. Pierce held out a petrie dish and Blake
let his blood fall into it. Blake pulled a lighter from his coat’s pocket. Pierce
nodded and stood back. He held up his flamethrower.
‘Now I’m going to show you what I already know,’ Blake lit the lighter and
held the flame to the blood.
The tissue began to burn and smoke rose from the dish. Other than that,
nothing happened. Pierce was visibly relaxed.
‘I’m glad you’re still with me, old friend,’ Pierce said truthfully.
‘As am I. Weldon, you’re next,’ the captain held the lighter and a new petrie
dish out to the medic.
Weldon grabbed both items and set them down. He pulled out another scalpel.
With precision, Weldon made a small cut on his pinky finger. Red tears seemed
to fall from his finger. Weldon then put the blade down and struck the lighter’s
flint. His hands were shaking as he brought the small flame down towards the red
liquid. The flame touched and… nothing. Weldon let out the breath he had been
holding. Pierce smiled and clapped Weldon on the back.
‘Your one of us soldier, welcome to the human club,’ he said, ‘we’re
exclusive.’ He gave Cruz another look at those words, ‘your next Cruz.’
‘Damnit, I think I’ve bled enough for one day but alright,’ Cruz replied
as he picked up a sharp prodding instrument.
Cruz pushed the instrument’s point into his skin and winced as it penetrated.
Blood seeped out onto his hand. Weldon passed him a new petrie dish and he let
the blood fall into it.
‘I know I’m human,’ Cruz said to the group and he stuck the lighter into
the dish. Nothing.
‘Hold on a minute,’ Pierce said, alarmed, ‘that can’t be right?’
‘Why not, Pierce?’ Blake asked, ‘you said yourself the test wouldn’t lie.’
‘It wont, but I think we’re testing the wrong blood,’ Pierce replied as he
yanked the bandages off Cruz’s leg.
‘Shit! Ouch! Watch it, its still tender,’ the soldier complained.
Pierce removed the bandages then took the prodding instrument from Cruz and
poked a hole in his wound causing it to begin bleeding again.
‘The hell are you doing?’ Blake asked.
‘I just bandaged that up,’ Weldon complained.
‘Jeez, that hurt!’ Cruz moaned.
Pierce collected an amount of blood from the leg wound in a new dish. He
screwed off the cover on the end of his flamethrower revealing the pilot flame.
Slowly, Pierce stuck the end of his flamethrower near the blood. The fire licked
the blood. An otherworldly scream erupted from the blood and it flew into the
air and landed on the floor. Blake already had Cruz’s flamethrower in his hands
and was torching the blood. When he turned around Cruz’s leg was growing claws
and tearing through his clothes. Cruz himself was screaming.
‘Holy shit! What the hell is happening to me?’ he screamed as tentacles
emerged from the infected leg, ‘get this thing off me!’
Pierce was about to burn Cruz when Weldon stopped him.
‘He’s not all gone yet!’ the medic shouted, ‘it’s just his leg!’
Pierce nodded and allowed Weldon to attempt to use his bone saw to cut off
the infected part. Weldon was halfway through when Cruz stopped screaming. He
looked up to see that a claw from the leg had gone through Cruz’s body and out
his forehead. His eyes were expressionless as blood flowed from his temple onto
his face. Pushing Weldon out of the way, Pierce drew his flamethrower on what
was left of Cruz. A stream of flame shot out and lit him on fire, quickly reducing
the flesh to a burnt hide.
‘Look out, Pierce!’ Blake shouted to his friend.
Pierce turned around quickly and was able to dive out of the way before a
creature in Carter’s clothing rushed him. The creature’s momentum kept it moving
forward and it ran into Cruz’s pyre causing the creature’s clothing to catch fire.
Blake, Weldon and Pierce moved off to one corner of the room and watched as the
Carter-thing’s tentacles flailed, trying to beat out the flames. It had just about
put out all the fire on itself when Pierce stepped forward and released more inferno
upon it. The three men watched as it fell to the ground and began to shrivel in
the heat.
‘C-Can we leave now?’ Weldon asked.
‘I’m not leaving until I know for sure whether the rest of my team is dead
or not,’ Pierce replied.
‘Then we’re coming with you,’ Blake said.
Pierce nodded and the group went outside, into the cold.
Chapter 4 – break down the walls
Blake ran alongside Pierce and Weldon in the blizzard. They could see lights
radiating from the far side of the Norwegian base ahead of them. Pierce said
something to Blake but the wind drowned it out.
‘What?’ Blake shouted to his companion.
‘I said…’ that was as far as Pierce got when suddenly he disappeared in a
blaze of fire.
Blake rolled away and realized that the explosion was from a grenade. He
looked around and saw Weldon prone on the ground a few metres away.
‘Move it, solider!’ Blake shouted to the medic.
Weldon nodded and rushed towards the lights. Blake ran after him but an
explosion beside him sent him spiraling into the air. With a thud, Blake landed
in the snow. Looking up at a watchtower, he saw a familiar figure throwing grenades
at him.
‘Pace?’ Blake shouted to the man on the shack.
The figure was about to let go of another grenade but hesitated.
‘Blake? Is… is that you?’ the figure asked.
‘Yeah it’s me, you jackass!’ Blake shouted back.
Pace was about to say something else when Weldon came up from behind and
clubbed him with his rifle. Blake sighed and picked him self up from the ground.
‘It’s okay, Weldon,’ Blake shouted to the medic, ‘he’s on our side.’
Blake heard a ‘whoops’ as he walked up the ramp to the shack. Inside, Weldon
had Pace propped up in a chair and was checking his head for wounds. Blake unclipped
his radio from his belt and tried to call up Whitley. He got nothing but static.
The storm was cutting him off.
‘Shoot,’ He said and Weldon looked up at him, ‘I can’t get through. Storm’s
blowing too hard. We need a stronger radio, Weldon…’
Pace began to stir.
‘I’m sorry about hitting you,’ Weldon told the engineer.
‘Ayuh, that’s alright,’ Pace replied groggily.
‘Don’t apologize to him,’ Blake said as he turned to Pace, ‘you just killed
Pierce you worthless piece of…’
Blake was cut of when he heard gunfire and yelling below the tower. The
three men ran outside and looked over the rails. Part of the base beneath them
was on fire.
‘That wasn’t like that before,’ Pace commented in a southern accent.
‘What are you doing up here all alone anyways?’ Blake asked the engineer.
‘Huh?’ the man seemed confused.
‘What are you doing up here,’ Blake repeated slowly.
‘Oh, uh, me’n Williams were chasing this… this Swedish guy…’
‘Norwegian, Pace, there aren’t any Swedes around here.’
‘Right, Norwegian. Well we yelled at him to stop but he didn’t. So we
followed him into the blizzard and lost him.’
‘So where’s Williams, did you blow him up, too?’
‘N, no sir. I lost Williams in the storm…’
‘Christ,’ Blake cursed.
Blake hung his head and walked back into the shack. He walked over to a
chair and sat down.
Weldon followed him into the shack.
‘Sir?’ he inquired.
‘Yes, Weldon,’ Blake replied in a weary voice, ‘what do you want?’
‘Don’t you think we should examine the base before the fire gets out of
control?’
‘Yes. Yes I do,’ Blake said as he stood up, ‘get Pace and we’ll head down
right now.’
Weldon nodded and went outside to get Pace. Blake rubbed his eyes and
followed. The three men walked down the tower ramp and towards the building. When
they reached the door, Blake found it was locked.
‘Ayuh, I see the problem,’ Pace told him, ‘something bashed in the fuse box.’
Blake looked at the fuse box that was near the door. It looked as if
something large and blunt had smashed the panel maybe a fire axe or a hammer. Blake
thought he saw something like saliva or slime on the box but ignored it. He glanced
up at the air vent above the box and walked back over to the front door where Weldon
stood.
‘How are you holding up, soldier?’ Blake asked.
‘Good,’ Weldon replied.
The two men stood in silence for a moment when they heard Pace speak by
the box.
‘Aha! I almost got it fixed!’ he said loudly and triumphantly.
‘What was wrong with it?’ Blake asked.
‘Hmm, it seems something cut this blue wire right here…’ Pace trailed of
then spoke up again, ‘ayah, its been cut. All I have to do is reconnect it..
Aaahhhh!’
Blake heard Pace yell and something screech. He ran over to where Pace was
and saw what looked like someone’s rib cage clasping onto his face. The engineer
waved his hands and fell over gurgling. Blake looked up at the vent and saw more
body parts crawling through it. Grimly, he pulled a grenade off his belt and threw
it into the overhead vent. Pace stopped moving as Blake ran back to Weldon and
the blast went off.
‘Is, is it those creatures again?’ Weldon asked Blake.
‘Yeah, give me your torch.’
Weldon handed Blake Cruz’s flamethrower and he walked over to where Pace’s
body was. The ribs had pulled apart and were now crushing down on Pace like a
set of teeth would crush down on a steak.
Blake sighed and pulled the
flamethrower’s trigger. He watched it burn then walked over to the fuse box that
Pace was fussing over a moment ago. Peering into it, Blake found two blue wires.
Carefully, he touched the two tips together. The outdoor lights came on and he
heard the sound of an electronic lock opening.
‘We’re in!’ Weldon shouted.
The two men entered the building and walked down the corridor, Blake gave
Weldon his weapon back. They could hear the crackling of fire in the distance.
They would have to search the building quickly, before it burnt down. As they
walked past an open door, Blake peered in and saw a pool table drenched in blood.
He looked away and kept walking. The base was dark as they made their way through
the hallways. They walked past a window and Blake glanced at it long enough to
see what looked like a giant upright centipede walk past. Blake stopped walking,
the sight was a shock, but he supposed at this point in time it shouldn’t surprise
him.
‘Sir? What’s wrong?’ the medic asked after he realized his captain had
stopped.
‘Nothing,’ Blake replied, ‘we should move faster.’
Weldon nodded and they pushed forward. After a while of navigating through
the corridors, they found themselves closer to the fire and in a cafeteria. It
was large enough to seat about thirty people, comfortably.
‘What the hell were they doing up here?’ Blake mumbled to himself.
‘I don’t know,’ Weldon replied as he stepped over a dead body.
They were walking towards the kitchen area of the cafeteria when a figure
stepped in front of them. He held a flame unit in his shaking hands. In fact,
his whole body was shaking.
‘S, step back,’ the man said, ‘I’m warning you!’
‘Williams?’ Blake asked, ‘Shit, what happened to you, man?’
‘“It,” happened to me,’ the delirious soldier replied.
Williams was the field medic for Alpha team.
Right now, the usually
levelheaded man looked like he had flown off his rocker.
‘Okay, is there anyone else in the building?’ Blake asked.
‘Nope. Just my friends and me’ he told the Beta team leader.
‘Where's the rest of Alpha team?’ Blake asked.
‘Just me here.’
‘You just told me there were others…’
‘“They” are everywhere,’ he interrupted, ‘they will get you and be you if
your not careful.’
‘He’s gone insane,’ Weldon broke in.
‘Quiet, soldier,’ Blake motioned to Weldon, ‘Williams, where are your
friends?’
‘Everywhere. They’re all a bunch of posers,’ Williams made a disgusted
face, ‘they kill you and take your identity. I mean, I thought he was still
Collins.’
‘Let’s calm down, Williams,’ Blake told the man in a quiet voice.
‘Your still you, aren’t you?’ Williams looked Blake straight in the eyes.
Williams’s eyes seemed distant. Like he was there but his mind wasn’t.
‘Yes, I am still me,’ Blake reassured the soldier, ‘now come with us, we
have to get out of this building before it burns down.’
‘NO!’ Williams shouted suddenly and he backed away as if Blake’s words were
a firebrand.
‘What?’ Blake asked cautiously.
‘The fire keeps them away,’ Williams rambled, ‘it's a barrier that protects
us here. They're everywhere. Waiting. Waiting for me to go outside where they
can get me.’
‘Blake, let's just leave him,’ Weldon was becoming frightened.
‘We cant leave him,’ Blake replied, ‘where is everywhere, Williams?’
‘The walls,’ Williams said in a distant voice, ‘hundreds of them lurk in
the walls and in the roofs and in the air ducts. Waiting. Waiting for me to leave
this room. Waiting for me to leave the fire.’
‘If we don’t leave now then the fire will get us,’ Blake argued. The flames
were slowly creeping closer. Blake could feel the heat.
‘I like the flames,’ Williams replied, ‘they don’t copy me. They aren’t
posers. They end suffering instead of making more.’
‘Sir, the fire…’
‘Yes Weldon, I know,’ Blake replied. He was becoming desperate, ‘you have
to come Williams! That is a direct order!’
‘Order? Order? They don’t follow orders,’ Williams said, his eyes burning,
‘I will be they; they will be me. They will pose as me and you will think that
they are me…’
As Williams spoke the walls began to crack. He stopped speaking and looked
around frantically.
‘They're coming!’ he shouted, ‘they don’t fear the flame! They want to pose!’
It seemed as though the entire room was having pressure applied to it from
the outside; the cracks covered the whole room. The walls sagged inwards as if
a giant had taken the building in his hands and was crushing it between his palms.
Bits of dry wall and infrastructure crumbled off. Then all the walls burst forth.
Williams was right. There must have been hundreds of things that poured in through
the walls. Each one was different from the last. Some resembled humans, some
resembled dogs and others resembled things that could only have been manifested
from the deepest and darkest of nightmares. Blake began firing his machine gun
upon the creatures. The bullets crippled some of the smaller ones but they didn’t
seem to faze the larger things. Weldon stepped forward and used Cruz’s torch on
the advancing beasts. The napalm seemed to scare some of them back but they kept
advancing at an alarming rate. Behind him, Blake heard Williams shouting.
‘Fuck off you posers!’ he yelled as he lay down fire on them.
Blake turned to Weldon.
‘If we don’t get out right now, these things are going to cut off our exit.’
Weldon nodded and turned his flamethrower towards the creatures that blocked
the back door. His fire hit them and they scattered.
‘Come on,’ Weldon waved at the other humans, ‘let’s go!’
Blake grabbed Williams and started dragging him towards the door.
‘You posers! Come get me, I’m here,’ he shouted as he struggled to use his
torch on the creatures.
A small thing, about the size of a cat, jumped at Williams. Blake heard
him shout and turned around and fired at the creature. It fell to the floor in
a bloody smoking mess.
‘D, d, DIE!’ Williams shouted as he lit the smoking creature on fire.
Blake finally managed to pull the deranged medic outside. Weldon closed
the door on the advancing things.
‘That door wont hold them for long,’ Blake commented as he let go of Williams.
‘Over there,’ Weldon said pointing to a small building forty yards away,
‘we can hide in there and rethink our course of action.’
‘Good eye, Weldon.’
The three men ran towards the building just as the creatures broke down the
door. Weldon reached the small building first followed by Williams.
‘Come on Blake!’ he shouted.
Blake had stopped to unclip a grenade from his belt and throw it at the
advancing horde. It landed near what looked like a horse-shaped crustacean and
exploded sending bits of flesh across the snowy landscape. Blake turned and bolted
into the room. Once he was inside, Weldon closed the door.
‘That’s not going to hold them,’ Williams whispered, shaking, ‘the posers
won’t stop coming.’
‘Shut up, Williams!’ Blake shouted at the deranged man.
Just then, something hit the door.
‘They’re here,’ Williams whispered again.
‘I said shut up!’
‘Blake,’ Weldon cut in, ‘ignore him…’
As Weldon spoke the door burst in. He raised his flamethrower and lit fire
to the creature that had broken down the door. Many demonic screams of pain filled
the room. Blake threw a grenade at the doorway and it went off as soon as it hit
the flames. The explosion sent Blake flying backwards but Weldon and Williams
were out of the blast range. Weldon kept a steady stream of flame on the doorway
until he ran out of fuel. His flamethrower died in a reluctant sputter. Blake
and Weldon looked at each other alarmed.
‘Shit,’ Weldon said.
They waited for more creatures to come pouring through the walls but none
came.
‘Wait,’ Blake whispered, ‘maybe we got them all…’
‘Right…’ Weldon was still wary and backed away from the door.
Blake also moved away from the door, towards a corner of the room. He looked
over at Weldon and saw he was backing up towards a window. A window that had been
smashed wide open.
‘Weldon, get out of there!’ Blake whispered urgently.
Weldon looked over at him confused then gave him a blank stare. A small
insectile creature had jumped through the window and through the medic’s head.
Weldon fell to the ground dead. The small creature burrowed into the medic’s skull
and made repulsive suckling noises as it assimilated his brain matter. Blake
watched with horror but Williams was already standing above Weldon.
‘I’m sorry dear Weldon,’ he said, still shaking, ‘but you’ve been posed.’
Williams lit Weldon’s body on fire and as he did so more small creatures
flew through the window. Alarmed, Williams ran backwards towards Blake.
‘We’ll never make it,’ he shouted in Blake’s ear, ‘we will be them…’
‘Jeez!’ Blake shouted back, ‘don’t just stand there, shoot them!’
He pushed Williams aside and the crazed man fell to the ground. Blake stuck
a new clip in his machine gun and shot the creatures. When his bullets struck
them they became incapacitated but still writhed on the ground. With the immediate
threat stopped he turned his attention to the creatures that were still attempting
to jump through the window. Blake shot them in midair and they fell backwards
into the snow outside. By this time Williams was back on his feet and torching
the things that hobbled on the floor. Blake shot his last bullet and yanked out
the clip. He was about to pull a new one from his belt when he noticed the remaining
creatures were retreating.
‘They, they're leaving?’ Williams asked himself, ‘we did it! We scared them
away!’
Williams jumped up in the air and pumped his free hand in celebration. Blake
was more interested in getting out of the now burning building.
‘Celebrate later, soldier,’ he commanded Williams, ‘this building is going
down and plans on taking us with it.’
Williams looked around at the nearing flames and began frantically searching
for an exit.
‘Over here!’ he yelled to Blake from across the room, ‘another window! Lets
go through it and escape the posers!’
Blake ran over and looked at the window. It was still intact.
‘Hold this,’ Williams handed Blake his flamethrower.
He stepped back a few steps and then charged the window. He dove into it
but the window deflected him easily. Williams hit the ground with a thud. Blake
set the flamethrower on the ground and proceeded to bang against the window with
the butt of his gun. It was to no effect and the flames were getting closer.
‘What are we going to do?’ Williams asked, ‘I don’t like the flames anymore!
They betray me and want to destroy me!’
Blake ignored the crazed mans rants and aimed his gun at the window.
Hopefully it wasn’t bullet proof. It wasn’t. The window cracked and shattered
as the bullets hit.
‘Come on,’ Blake said as he helped Williams to his feet, ‘we’re getting out
of here.’
Williams grabbed his flamethrower and dove out the window after Blake. The
two fell to the snow and lay there.
‘We, we made it,’ Williams whispered to himself, ‘Blake, we are alive! You
aren’t a poser! You didn’t kill me!’
Williams was noticeably calmer; his shaking had completely gone. Blake was
more interested in the footsteps that were a few feet away from him, though. He
looked up and saw a dark figure running away.
‘It’s him! It’s him!’ Williams began shouting frantically, ‘the Norwegian!’
Blake slowly got to his feet and shook the snow off.
‘Hey you!’ Blake shouted but the man ignored him so he yelled again, this
time in Norwegian, ‘damnit, he’s ignoring us.’
‘We should chase him!’ Williams said, his shaking was beginning to return,
‘he has a radio, we can call for help!’
That’s what you need Williams, Blake thought, help.
‘Well we’re not running after him in this weather,’ he said, ‘the blizzard
is worsening…’
‘I, I saw a tractor over on that side of, of the base,’ Williams said pointing
towards the building.
‘Fine,’ Blake agreed but he didn’t want to chase the Norwegian. He was scared
enough already.
Williams ran ahead and Blake followed behind slowly. He unclipped his radio
and tried calling Whitley hoping he wouldn’t have to follow the Norwegian. Still
nothing.
‘Damnit, I guess me and the crack-up are going after him,’ he muttered to
himself.
Chapter 5 – an evening with insanity
The tractor slowly chugged along the Antarctic desert following a lone line
of footprints.
‘How the hell can one man go so far so fast?’ Blake muttered to himself.
Williams had somehow fallen asleep in the passenger seat of the tractor.
I guess being crazy is tiring, Blake thought.
The darkness around him was
incredible. He could only see a few feet in front of the tractor and yet he felt
relaxed to be surrounded by the darkness. He almost felt wrapped in it as if it
was a barrier that would protect him from harm. With a jolt, Blake was awoken from
his daydream and brought back to reality. He had driven the tractor into the side
of a wall.
‘Wha, what happened, Blake?’ Williams asked drearily, ‘are we dead yet?’
‘No, not yet,’ Blake replied as he opened the door and stepped out into the
blizzard, ‘come on, I think the Norwegian guy is in this building.’
Williams and Blake walked around the large metal building until they found
a small double door. Blake walked up to it and pushed it but the door didn’t give
way.
‘It’s locked,’ he said looking over at Williams.
Williams had calmed considerably. He now seemed to be in a daze, much like
Weldon was.
‘You ok, Williams?’ Blake asked.
‘Is that a rhetorical question?’ Williams replied.
Blake chuckled to himself, Williams was beginning to sound sane again. He
tried to body slam the door open and Williams helped but nothing was having and
effect on the door.
‘Shoot it?’ Williams asked.
‘Doors metal,’ Blake replied, ‘and I don’t want to waste bullets.’
‘Posers,’ Williams muttered while he nodded in agreement.
Maybe I was wrong about the sane thing, Blake thought. He continued to
jiggle the door handle until it broke off in his hands.
‘Aw Christ,’ he muttered, ‘what a hunk of shit!’
Blake was freezing. The tractor had only provided so much heat. His hands
were numb and he couldn’t feel his face. In anger, Blake began pounding at the
door. He was cold and was becoming desperate for anything warm.
‘Why don’t we try the other building?’ Williams asked.
‘What other building, Williams?’ Blake was getting frustrated.
‘That one,’ and Williams pointed to what looked like an observatory.
‘Son of a bitch,’ Blake said in amazement, ‘why didn’t you tell me about
that earlier.’
‘Thought you knew…’
‘Whatever, let’s go,’ Blake interrupted as he began running for the
observatory.
Williams struggled to keep up as Blake began to sprint. The blizzard was
freezing Blake and he was desperate to find warmth. As he neared the building,
Blake pulled out his machine gun and shot at the window. He didn’t slow down and
continued to run straight at the observatory. The bullets had weakened the glass
and Blake just dove through the window, shattering glass. He landed on the floor
with a thud.
‘Are you crazy?’ Williams shouted from behind, ‘what the hell are you doing?’
Blake looked up from where he lay and saw Williams face peering through the
window. He looked upset.
‘Just making sure,’ Blake replied as he picked himself up, ‘the door might
have been locked.’
‘Did you ever stop to think of checking it?’ Williams asked angrily as he
walked over to the door and opened it without hassle, ‘see?’
‘Okay, so I smashed a window. Big deal, why are you so upset?’
‘You might have alerted the posers! They could be zeroing in on us as we
speak.’
‘How do you know if there are even any aliens here?’
‘They’re everywhere…’
‘Oh shut up! I’m sick of you talking about poser this and poser that. They’re
fucking aliens! Monsters! Demonic hell spawn, I don’t know but they aren’t posers!
Posers are people who pretend to be something they’re not…’ Blake stopped himself
as he spoke.
Williams was silent as he looked at the captain. Blake suddenly felt
embarrassed.
‘I’m sorry, Williams,’ he apologized, ‘you’re right. They are posers.’
‘It’s not a matter of right or wrong; it’s not even a matter of what they
are called. It’s a matter of survival,’ Williams said, ‘I hope your on the same
level as I am Blake.’
If you mean insanity then yeah, Williams, I’m pretty much on the same level
as you.
‘Yeah, I’m with you,’ Blake answered.
The captain looked around at the glass on the floor and began to feel foolish.
Why did I jump through the window? He thought. Am I going insane just like
Williams?
‘Hey, look at this,’ Williams said, ‘it’s a map of the compound.’
Blake looked over at the map on the wall Williams was examining. It showed
the warehouse, the observatory the two men were now standing in, some other storage
buildings and a weather balloon release field.
‘Right here,’ Williams said, pointing to a mark on the map, ‘that’s the door
into the warehouse but there has to be another. Now if we…’
While Williams talked Blake’s mind began to wander. He thought about being
discharged from the marines for being crazy. He thought about his wife back home
and her leaving him because of his mental illness. He pictured his wife in his
mind. Her beautiful blue eyes and soft lips. He imagined her long soft hair that
went down to her shoulders and her slender figure and jagged claws. Blake’s mind
whirled as the picture of his wife turned into a ghastly image of a mutilated alien
creature. He snapped back to reality just in time to see a dark figure walk past
the doorway down the hall.
‘Uh, Williams?’ Blake asked, his mind filled with one thought, ‘I think we
have company…’
Williams spun around with his flamethrower drawn.
‘Is it a poser?’ he asked, his eyes glowing.
‘I don’t know,’ Blake said, ‘it looked human…’
The two men slowly slinked down the hallway with their weapons raised. When
they made it to the doorway they both took positions standing on either side. Blake
realized for the first time that he was shaking worse that Williams had been
earlier. He was hypothermic and the heat from the building was very slowly
bringing him out of it. Or so Blake hoped.
‘Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,’ Blake whispered to himself.
Williams gave him a concerned look but Blake waved him off.
‘Okay, on the count of three we run in and see what’s hiding in there,’ Blake
said.
Williams nodded.
‘Alright, one. Two. Three!’
The two men ran in and pointed their weapons at the dark figure in the corner.
It didn’t move. Blake unclipped a flashlight from his belt and pointed it at the
figure. It lifted a gloved hand to shield its eyes.
‘Easy there,’ a familiar voice grumbled.
‘Pierce?’ Blake asked, bewildered.
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Pierce replied.
‘But, but the grenade! And the explosion!’
‘I know. I didn’t die in the explosion, although I wish I did.’
Williams was becoming uneasy.
‘What are you talking about, Pierce?’
‘It got me. I can feel it inside.’
‘I, I don’t understand.’
‘I’m infected you fool. You have to kill me!’
‘What? I, I can’t do that!’
‘I’ll do it,’ Williams added in.
‘Stay out of this,’ Blake ordered, ‘Pierce, your not infected! This is crazy
talk.’
Pierce let out a long sigh.
‘You know, my father always said if you want a job done right you got to
do it yourself,’ as Pierce said this he pulled a pistol from his belt, aimed it
at his head and fired.
His head jerked to the side and half his skull flew at the wall. His brain
oozed out of the hole in his head onto his jacket. Pieces of bone, skin and hair
were splattered everywhere. Blake stared down at the glazed over eyes and the
slack jaw. Blake was stunned. Pierce hadn’t even given him a chance to lay down
a good argument. The asshole just up and shot himself!
‘We’re dropping like flies in a cloud of pesticide,’ he mumbled to no one
in particular.
Williams walked over to Pierce and aimed his flamethrower at him.
‘What are you doing?’ Blake asked.
‘Burning the body. You can never be too sure,’ Williams replied.
‘Don’t.’
‘But what if he really is a poser?’
‘Pierce wasn’t an alien, Williams. He was crazy. If he were really infected,
he would've told us he was fine and asked to come with.’
Williams was still reluctant to obey Blake.
‘Look, lets just leave the body here. We wont even touch it. I just don’t
want Pierce’s body to be any more desecrated than it already has been.’
Williams hesitated then put away his torch, following Blake out of the room.
The medic walked back over to the map on the wall and resumed his speech about
how they could get into the warehouse. Blake sat down on a nearby chair took off
his gloves and rubbed his hands together. The feeling in his body was beginning
to return; in another hour or so he should be as good as new. Blake thought about
Pierce and his death. There was something that tugged at his mind and it was taking
him a while to remember what it was.
‘…Maybe we could drive the tractor through the door,’ Blake heard Williams
say out loud.
The tractor, Blake thought, there is no way we could’ve made it here without
the tractor. That’s when it struck him. How did Pierce make it all the way here
without any vehicles. Blake got up slowly and quietly as not to alarm Williams
and walked over to the doorway. He pulled out his flashlight again and shined
it into the corner of the room where Pierce lay. Except Pierce wasn’t there
anymore.
‘That tractor idea sounds great, Williams,’ Blake said as he quickly walked
over to Williams.
‘It does?’ he asked looking confused.
‘Yeah, lets go try it out.’
‘Right now?’
‘Yes right now!’
‘Well, okay…’
The two figures went back outside and returned to their transportation.
Blake ran to the driver’s side, opened the door and jumped in. Williams had barely
got inside the passenger side when Blake started the engine.
‘Man, is someone eager or what!’ Williams commented.
‘Let’s just say I’m a little motivated right now,’ Blake replied.
Blake put the tractor into reverse, turned it around and drove it towards
the door. After a moment he had the tractor lined up with the doorway.
‘You ready?’ he asked Williams.
‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ Williams replied.
‘Good…’
Blake switched the tractor into gear and pushed down on the gas. It slowly
chugged towards the door. It was almost comical how long it took for the tractor
to reach the door but it finally did. It impacted hard but didn’t change a thing.
‘Aw come on!’ Williams shouted as he jumped out of the tractor, ‘you hunk
of crap!’
Williams began flailing his arms and kicking the tractor. In his rage be
punched his fist through the window.
‘Shit, Williams!’ Blake said, ‘it’s not a big deal!’
Williams began to calm down but something seemed to be bothering him.
‘Anything the matter, Williams?’ Blake asked while he looked around at the
warehouse wall.
‘I think I broke my hand,’ Williams replied.
‘What?! Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ Blake turned to Williams in surprise,
‘well you’re the medic, fix it!’
Williams grumbled something about posers and turned away to open his
backpack. Meanwhile, Blake climbed on top of the tractor and began examining a
vent that was above the warehouse door. He could feel warm air blowing from the
vent to his face.
‘Aw yeah, that’s nice,’ Blake mumbled to himself.
‘What is it?’ Williams asked, turning around.
‘I think I found us a way in…’
Blake jumped off the roof of the tractor and told Williams to move away.
Blake picked up his machine gun and aimed it at one of the corners of the vent.
He fired. The bullet flew into the bolt holding the vent in and blew it up.
‘Three more to go,’ Blake mumbled.
He fired three more times at the other bolts holding in the vent. Once they
were gone the vent fell off the wall and onto the tractor.
‘Yes! Uh, you think you climb up there if I pulled you up?’ Blake asked the
medic.
‘I don’t know. Wait, yes!’ Williams reached into his pack and produced a
medical syringe. He jabbed it through his jacket and into his arm.
‘Damn man, that’s dangerous!’ Blake exclaimed, ‘and what is that anyways?’
‘Morphine,’ Williams replied.
Blake cursed but helped Williams onto the roof of the tractor. Then he
pulled himself into the vent. He struggled to turn around and reached for Williams’
good hand and pulled him up.
‘Williams, I can’t pull you up,’ Blake said as he struggled to pull the medic
up by one hand.
‘That’s what the morphine is for,’ he replied and raised his bad hand to
Blake.
Blake hesitated then grabbed the medic’s broken hand and lifted him into
the vent.
‘See? I’m fine,’ Williams said.
‘Great,’ Blake replied.
Chapter 6 – vertigo
The two men had been slowly working their way through the vents for almost
an hour. The shafts had led them further and further up until Blake was sure that
they were at the very top of the building. This thought was further supported
when the vents seemed to swing from side to side a little after the two men came
through another corner. Finally, Blake saw a grate ahead that he would be able
to look out of.
‘Williams,’ Blake whispered, ‘I see some light.’
‘A ventilation grate?’ the medic whispered back.
‘Yeah.’
‘Check for posers, then let’s try to go through it.’
Blake rolled his eyes and looked through the grate. He was right; they were
in the ventilation shafts at the very top of the building. Probably 30 metres in
the air, Blake thought, we are so fucked. He looked at what was further down and
saw some catwalks up ahead. If they could make it to the grate above the catwalks
they should be fine.
‘Williams,’ Blake whispered again, ‘there are some catwalks we can get off
at up ahead.’
‘Good,’ the voice replied, ‘go.’
Blake began continued down the shaft towards the catwalks. He was nearing
his destination when he felt the whole shaft rumble. It creaked and then in a snap
it slanted backwards. Blake looked behind and saw that Williams had fallen through
the grate and was now hanging on for dear life. His sudden movement had caused
some of the wires holding the ventilation shaft up to snap.
‘Blake,’ he struggled to say, ‘a little help please.’
Blake couldn’t move from position without risking his own self to a falling
death. So he pulled out his machine gun, removed the ammo and held it by the barrel
towards Williams.
‘Grab the butt,’ Blake whispered urgently.
Williams reached for it and missed. He tried again and this time got his
gloved hand around the gun butt. Williams breathed a sigh of relief. Blake, in
an attempt to pull Williams up, shifted his weight to one side.
This caused more
wires to snap. The shaft section fell off and was hanging vertically by one
wire. Blake lost his grip and grabbed onto the wire. Then he realized he had let
go of the gun. Blake looked down quickly and saw that Williams was still with
him. The gun wasn’t small enough to fall through the hole length-wise so it was
now the only thing keeping Williams alive.
‘Shit, you okay Williams?’ Blake asked.
‘Fuckin’ rights,’ Williams replied.
Both men started laughing at their predicament. Between laughs, Williams
shouted, ‘My arms hurt.’
‘Hold on,’ Blake said.
Blake reached down for his gun but as he did the shaft broke off the last
wire. Blake reached back and grabbed onto the wire with both hands while the shaft
fell past him along with Williams and his gun. Blake watched as the metal clattered
against the ground with a loud smash. The floor around it turned red. Blake turned
away and began concentrating on his predicament. He was hanging on a wire by a
broken ventilation shaft. Blake kicked out his feet and began swinging. As he
did so he felt his gloves slipping out of his hands. Just as Blake let go his
gloves fell off. He landed on top of the ventilation shaft with a thud. It creaked
and wires began snapping. Quickly, Blake ran across the top of the metal shaft
until he was over the catwalks. He jumped off the ventilation shaft just as it
fell beneath his feet. He landed on the catwalks with a dull thud. Blake groaned
and rolled onto his stomach. He lay there trying to catch his breath again. That’s
when he realized there was a loud growling sound coming from somewhere in the
building. He stood up, checked his pistol and looked around. On the other side
of the catwalks there was an office being guarded by a rather large alien. It looked
like a cross between a horse, a pit bull and a mean arachnid. Blake saw it try
to break down the doors and wondered what it was after. That’s when he saw a face
through the office window. A man was trapped.
‘Oh shit,’ Blake whispered to himself as he aimed his gun.
He fired a short burst into the creature. It turned around with a grunt
and stared at Blake. Blake just stared back into those two large black orbs.
He
fired again. The eyes continued to stare, unblinking. Believing it was time to
go, Blake turned and ran. He felt the heavy footsteps of the alien running after
him. The beast was fast. Blake reached a dead end and turned around. The alien
had slowed to a walk and was advancing on Blake. He looked around frantically and
realized that he was trapped. There was no way out.
‘Hey!’ a voice shouted.
The alien turned back to the office to see what was making the noise. It
was the man in the office. He was distracting the creature. Blake took this
opportunity to take a huge risk. He ran forward. The alien turned around just
in time to see Blake’s boot step on his its face and then push off. Blake flew
over the alien and landed on the catwalk behind it. He didn’t stop but kept running
until he was over by the office. There were no thumping sounds behind him indicating
that the beast was following. He stopped gasping for air and looked over at his
would-be-savior.
‘You okay?’ the man asked.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ Blake replied.
‘Come on, we can’t stay here.’
Blake nodded and followed the man down the catwalks. They were now on the
warehouse floor. He glanced back up quickly and saw the confused monster was still
searching for him.
‘Through here,’ the man said, gesturing to a doorway.
They went in and the man locked the door.
‘Thank you for saving my life,’ the man told Blake.
‘Same to you,’ Blake replied.
‘My name is Collins,’ he said, holding out his hand.
Blake took it and told the man his name.
‘Well Captain Blake, we should keep moving.’
‘Where to?’
‘Downstairs,’ Collins replied, ‘there should be a submarine down below if
we’re lucky.’
‘A submarine?’ Blake asked.
‘Yessir, the Deep Star to be exact.’
‘You mean the Gen/Inc Deep Star?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Incredible, I thought it was only a rumour! Who knew it really existed. I
can’t believe I’m actually going to see it!’
‘If it’s still down there, then you’ll be riding on it too.’
The Deep Star was an American nuclear submarine. It was secretly purchased
from the military through a disgruntled general. Since then, the Deep Star has
remained a secret from the world and from most Gen/Inc employees. It was believed
by most to be a rumour and anyone who claimed to have ridden on it or told stories
about it was deemed a liar or insane. But now, Blake was going to ride on the secret
submarine.
Collins led him down the metal staircase through an ice tunnel
and into a large storage room that was bustling with activity.
‘Hey Cole!’ Collins shouted.
A completely bald and muscular middle-aged man stepped through the crowd
and towards Collins.
‘Holy shit!’ Cole began, ‘your still alive you sorry son-of-a-bitch!’
Cole ran up and embraced Collins.
‘I thought those creatures had gotten to you!’
‘Well they almost had me,’ Collins replied, ‘luckily I was rescued by
Captain Blake here.’
Cole looked over at Blake.
‘Hi,’ Blake said.
‘Hi, uh. You don’t have clearance to be on the Deep Star, do you?’
‘I, I don’t know,’ Blake said, taken aback.
‘Did you used to believe that the Deep Star was a company myth, until now?’
‘Y, yes.’
‘Well then you don’t have clearance.’
‘Hold on just a minute, Cole,’ Collins cut in, ‘this guy saved my life.
He’s one of us. He’s Gen/Inc. Just because he doesn’t have Deep Star clearance
doesn’t mean we should ditch him.’
‘Fine, who’s your superior?’ Cole asked.
‘Whitley. Colonel Reese C Whitley,’ Blake replied.
‘Whitley? Oh, well then that’s different,’ Cole’s demeanor changed from
wary to friendly in a flash, ‘you must be Captain J F Blake, right?’
‘Yeah, I’m Jade Frances Blake,’ Blake replied.
‘So where’s the rest of your research team?’
‘Two of them returned to base in a helicopter because one of then was
injured. The other member of my team was killed.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Well have you heard anything from Alpha Team?’
‘Pierce and his team are all deceased. I’m the only person left from either
team still doing the mission.’
‘Aw man, that’s the shits.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Well, what have you found?’
‘All the materials we recovered at Outpost North 31 were returned with the
soldiers that I sent in the helicopter. Otherwise, I’ve been too busy trying to
rescue Alpha team and escape to do anymore exploring.’
‘I guess your mission is complete then, soldier,’ Cole finished, ‘get on
that sub, we’re taking you home.’
Blake nodded and began walking with Collins through the mass of sub deck
hands and workers that were loading the sub. They were nearing the porthole when
Blake saw someone familiar standing in the corner. It was the Norwegian with the
radio.
‘Wait here Collins,’ Blake said.
‘Wait, where are you going?’ Collins asked.
‘I see an old friend of mine.’
‘But, but… oh whatever.’
Blake jogged over towards the Norwegian and began calling to him.
‘Hey! You!’ Blake shouted.
The Norwegian glanced over at Blake and his jaw dropped when he realized
whom it was. The Norwegian ran. Blake tried to catch him but the Norwegian easily
lost Blake in the crowd.
‘Shit,’ Blake said to himself.
Just then there was a scream and Blake looked up. A massive twisting beast
had appeared out of nowhere. It was as tall as an elephant and could probably lift
one. The beast had parts of dogs and humans and otherworldly creatures sprouting
from its sides. The workers and deckhands scattered and some of the marines began
shooting at the beast. Blake was one of them. He fired his pistol into the creature
and blood sprayed. It whirled around and knocked people down with its whip-like
tentacles. Collins ran over to the people to try and aid them but he was killed
by one of the creature’s claws. It stabbed through his jacket and came through
the other side of his body. He was lifted into the air and then flung against the
wall. The alien continued to morph; it grew large clawed arms, which it used to
smash fleeing people into the ground. Blake jumped away just as an arm came
smashing down in the ground beside him. He looked up just in time to see Cole pull
the pin of a grenade and run at the alien. He blew up and took out a large portion
of the creature with him. Unfortunately, the explosion also took out a lot of
soldiers. Everyone was running back to the sub and Blake quickly joined them. He
was at the entrance to the sub when he thought he heard the alien laugh. He looked
back and saw the Norwegian’s face in the mass of the creature. He was smiling
at Blake.
‘Bite me,’ Blake mumbled and he jumped down into the sub.
Chapter 7 – Deep Star, the nuclear secret of the seas
Blake landed down in the sub and rolled. He banged his knee against a metal
pipe and shouted in pain. A young soldier came down after him and closed everything
up.
‘There, that should keep that fucking alien out,’ the soldier said.
He looked over at Blake.
‘The name’s Glenn. You alright?’ he asked Blake.
‘I’m okay. I just banged my knee on this pipe,’ Blake replied with his teeth
clenched.
‘Aw man, I hate that,’ he replied, like it was no big deal, ‘Come on, we
better go see what we can do.’
‘Do?’
‘To get out of here. The Deep Star doesn’t just get up and go when you want
it to. Everything has to be moving smoothly.’
‘Right.’
Glenn led Blake down into the sub where people kept running back and forth.
There was a constant buzzing of chatter but there was one voice that was above
the rest.
‘Price, get those supplies downstairs now! Don’t give me that look, just
do, it! Larry, reset the switches in the hydraulic bay now, go go! Glenn, what
are you doing standing there? Who is this with you?’ A tall, muscular man in
what seemed to be his early forties was now standing in front of them. His hair
was dark but lined with grey and his stare was hard. He had many scars on his
arms and his hands looked very calloused; all the signs of a devoted engineer.
‘This is Captain Benedict. He’s the oil that makes sure everything runs
smoothly.’
‘Cute euphemism, Glenn; Yes, I am Captain Benedict and you are?’
‘Captain Blake of Beta Team,’ Blake replied.
‘You don’t say? Glad to have you aboard Captain. Have you heard any news
from the Colonel?’
‘I’ve heard dick all. The weather you know?’
‘I understand. So what brought you here? I thought you and Pierce were
supposed to be checking out that American and Norwegian base.’
‘Well we were. We ran into a couple snags.’
‘Damn aliens, right?’
‘Bang on.’
‘Well what happened?’
‘Well, like you, I was trying to contact Whitley, right? Unfortunately,
with the storm, I couldn't reach him. I needed a stronger radio, so Williams and
I left the Norge base. E.. Everyone else had been killed by that time. Anyways,
we found out where we could get a long range radio. So, we chased after the only
person who had one. A Norwegian survivor.’
Benedict nodded as Blake talked.
‘We came into this warehouse through the ventilation shafts and that’s when
the shafts fell apart. I lost Williams, found Collins and wound up here.’
‘God-damn. Where is Collins now?’
‘Well that beast up there was the Norwegian. He got Collins, Cole and a
whole bunch other people.’
‘Cole too? Shit. I gotta report to Faraday. Glenn, Take the Captain to
your bunks. Let him rest a while.’
Benedict shook Blake’s hand then disappeared through the stream of people.
‘Wow, you never told me you were Captain Blake,’ Glenn said looking at him. ‘You
never asked,’ Blake replied, rolling his eyes.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Glenn replied.
‘Forget about it. I’m confused, why am I suddenly so famous?’
‘Well sir, you were the last person to have contact with Colonel Whitley.
Everyone on this continent has lost contact with the Strata base. We’re all flying
blind and everyone is scared. Everyone has been looking for you in hopes that you’ve
received news from Whitley.’
‘So in other words we’re all fucked up because no one knows what’s going
on and everyone thinks that I’m the answer.’
‘Well, yeah. Besides loading the sub, locking down the warehouse and
scanning for aliens; everyone was given the secondary objective to look out for
anyone from Beta or Alpha team.’
‘I see,’ Blake sighed, ‘too bad I haven’t heard anything from Whitley.’
‘Yeah,’ Glenn agreed, ‘ah well. C’mon, I’ll take you to my bunk.’
Blake nodded and let Glenn lead him through a maze of corridors and people
to the bunks and to a well deserved sleep.
---later--‘Wake up. C’mon, sir. Wake up, the doctor wants to speak to you,’ a familiar
voice asked.
Blake’s eyes blinked open groggily. He saw Glenn standing over him. Blake
closed his eyes again and rolled over.
‘Now, sir,’ Glenn repeated as he ripped the blankets off Blake.
Blake sat up and rubbed his eyes.
‘How long was I out?’ he asked.
‘About six hours,’ Glenn replied, ‘the doc said he wanted to let you rest
awhile.’
‘I could sleep six hours more,’ Blake replied.
‘Sorry, sir. Doc wants you now.’
‘Doc who?’ Blake asked.
‘Doctor Shawn Faraday,’ Glenn replied, ‘besides the admiral, he's in charge
down here. Be down at the observation deck as soon as possible. Oh, here. Incase
you want to clean yourself up a little.’
Glenn passed Blake a small package and left. Blake opened it up.
Inside there was some shaving cream, a razor, a toothbrush and a comb.
‘Fuck it,’ Blake said as he pushed the package aside and got dressed.
He stepped out into the hallways and saw that the sub was still bustling
with activity. If need be, the Deep Star was big enough to hold almost two hundred
passengers although it looked like double the number was running about. Blake sure
wished that Glenn had been more detailed in his directions. He pushed his way
through the flow of people until he made it to a larger room. There were all kinds
of medical equipment and supplies being unpacked left and right. In one corner
there were some engineers working on what looked like a dentist chair. Blake
walked over to them and tapped one of them on the shoulder. The man looked up
at Blake.
‘What can I do you for?’ he asked.
‘Uh, I need some directions,’ Blake admitted.
The engineer wiped the oil off his hands with a cloth and stood up.
‘You must be new if you need directions,’ the engineer said, ‘the name’s
Price. Oh hey, I saw you talking to the Captain earlier.’
‘That’s right. I’m Blake of Beta Team,’ Blake replied.
‘Beta Team? Wow, you’re a long way away from your objective,’ Price replied,
‘I thought you would be at that outpost.’
‘Was, until the shit hit the fan,’ Blake replied.
‘I see. So, uh, where you wanna go?’
‘Observation deck.’
‘Ah yes, you needa talk with Faraday, right?’
‘Right again.’
‘Alright. Just go straight through that door way over there and go down
the staircase, it’s the only one in the room and you’re there.’
‘Hmm, I was closer than I thought. Thanks.’
‘Hey, no problem.’
Blake waved good-bye to Price and walked through the door that the engineer
pointed to. Sure enough, there was a set of metal stairs leading down. Blake glanced
behind and saw Price was working on the chair again.
Then he turned and walked down the stairs.
Chapter 8 – have you had a fair day, Faraday?
‘Blake, over here,’ Benedict called him over.
Blake walked over to where Benedict and three other men stood.
‘Blake, I’d like you to meet Admiral Johnstone. Admiral, this is Captain
Blake.’
A man dressed in a decorated navy uniform with a buzz cut stepped forward
and shook hands with Blake. His hair was grey and his features were creased and
he seemed to be dripping with self-importance.
‘Good evening,’ he said.
‘You too,’ Blake replied.
‘This is Sergeant Major Miles and Lieutenant West.’
Miles was a short muscular Asian man. He held his head proudly and nodded
to Blake when he shook his hands. He seemed to know why he was there and looked
very confident. The kind of man you’d want to have with you in a firefight. West,
however, looked more like a librarian. He was balding, overweight and his grip
seemed weak. Nevertheless, Blake remained courteous.
‘So, uh. Where’s Faraday?’ Blake asked.
‘Well, he’s…’ Benedict began.
‘Allow me, Captain,’ Johnstone cut in, ‘while you were sleeping, the good
doctor went down stairs to examine the test subjects. While down there something
went wrong. Test chamber one was destroyed and all of Faraday’s bodyguards were
killed. What is worse is that the test subjects have been released of their electric
chains and are wandering free…’
‘We don’t know what to do,’ West interrupted, ‘Faraday is stuck down there!’
‘Thank you, Lieutenant,’ Johnstone said sharply, ‘as you can see Captain;
we are in a bit of a predicament.’
‘What do you want me to do about it?’ Blake asked.
‘We want your opinion,’ Benedict said, ‘you’ve been dodging these creatures
in the wild while we’ve been studying them from behind glass walls. You know how
to deal with them.’
‘Opinion? Well, you got all the fuckers stuck in glass tubes. I say:
Burn’em,’ Blake said.
‘W, we can’t!’ West huffed indignantly, ‘those are valuable organisms!’
‘What’s more valuable? Faraday’s life or some infected animals?’ Blake
asked.
‘Faraday’s life of course,’ the admiral said.
‘But, but,’ West argued.
‘We can always grow more, West,’ Johnstone said.
‘Fine. But I don’t want a single cell harmed on B4’s structure.’
‘B4?’ Blake asked.
‘Test subject B4: Genetically modified with the B4 strain to be resistant
to flame attacks. It’s flame retardant,’ West explained proudly.
‘What? You’re crazy!’ Blake said is surprise, ‘studying those things is
one thing but making them stronger? They’re hard enough to kill already!’
‘Don’t worry, Captain,’ Johnstone soothed, ‘we’ll simply lock off b4 from
the rest of the test tanks. You’ll have to go around the long way to reach Faraday
but in the end everyone will be happier.’
‘Jesus,’ Blake muttered.
‘Look, forget about it. Come on; take a look at these screens show me what
you think,’ Benedict said as he ushered Blake over to some monitors.
They showed the different test chambers at different angles. One of the
chambers was rubble. Another one had Faraday in it. The rest were filled with
aliens.
‘That one there is b4,’ Benedict said as he pointed to a rather large ugly
creature in one of the monitors.
‘Well,’ Blake began, ‘like I said, burn’em. It’s all we can do; go through
each chamber killing its inhabitants until we reach Faraday.’
‘Then it’s settled,’ Johnstone said, ‘Captain Blake will go down and pull
Faraday out.’
‘What?!’
‘Of course you will have back-up.’
‘I will go with him,’ Miles spoke for the very first time.
‘Excellent, you will need reinforcements down there. Two men is hardly a
fight for one of those beasts. Quickly, go back upstairs and find some soldiers
to escort you,’ Johnstone replied.
‘Let us go, Captain,’ the sergeant major said.
Blake nodded and he and Miles went back upstairs. They were soon back in
the room with the dentist chair. People were bustling around moving stuff still.
‘I’ll go to the stateroom. You look here for anyone not doing their job,’
Miles said.
Then he turned and left. Blake looked around. Everyone was moving, how
could he pick out someone who wasn’t busy? He walked around the room but didn’t
see anyone who didn’t have there hands free. Just then Price came up to Blake.
‘So what did Faraday want?’ Price asked.
‘Faraday’s trapped down in the test chambers,’ Blake replied.
‘You don’t say? Poor guy. Hope he makes it out alright.’
‘Yeah. I hope I make it out alright too.’
‘Why?’
‘They’re making me go down and get him.’
‘What? Now that is bullshit if I’ve ever heard it,’ Price replied, ‘damn,
I wish I could help but I got work to do, so maybe I’ll see you when you get back.
We can get a cold one, eh?’
‘For sure,’ Blake replied.
Price started to leave but just then Miles reappeared, this time with two
other people.
‘Good,’ he said, ‘you found an engineer.’
‘Huh?’ Blake said confused, ‘but Price here is busy.’
‘Not anymore. You’re hereby removed of your duties soldier. Your new
mission is to escort myself and the Captain through the test chambers to evacuate
Faraday.’
‘What?’ Price shouted in confusion, ‘but, but…’
‘Now,’ Miles said and he left towards the stairway with the other two men.
Price looked at Blake and shook his head.
‘And to think I used to like the Sergeant Major.’
‘Look, I’m sorry Price,’ Blake began.
‘Don’t worry about. Would’ve happened sooner or later; the sergeant major
has a bad habit of being a total dick.’
‘Uh huh…’
‘Forget it, let’s go.’
Price and Blake turned towards the stairs and followed Miles down them.
The Admiral smiled when they got back down there.
‘Excellent, that took no time at all,’ he said happily, ‘now. Sound off
soldiers.’
‘Sergeant Major Miles ready, sir,’ Miles shouted loudly.
‘Lance Corporal Lyle ready sir,’ the man in white overalls shouted.
‘Private Price ready,’ Price shouted.
‘Private Armstrong ready, sirs,’ the man in military uniform shouted.
‘Captain Blake, good to go,’ Blake said with little enthusiasm at all.
‘Excellent, reminds me of my time as a drill Sergeant,’ the admiral said,
his eyes sparkling.
What? Blake thought, who does guy think he is? Colonel Clink? Give me a
break.
‘No offense Admiral. Could you just point me in the right direction and
let us go?’ Blake said impatiently,
‘Of course,’ Johnstone replied as he led them over to another stairwell,
‘just down here. Miles knows the way.’
Miles led them down the staircase to a sliding hydraulic door. They stopped
to check their weapons.
‘So you find the admiral an annoyance as well?’ Miles asked.
‘Well, he does seem a bit high on himself,’ Blake admitted.
‘I despise him,’ Miles said, ‘and West too. They are both incompetent. If
I were in charge of this sub we wouldn’t have these sorts of problems going about.
Faraday would be safe and the sub wouldn’t still be docked. We would have been
on schedule instead of three days behind.’
Oh great, Blake thought, here I am on a sub that’s in the middle of the
clash of the egos. In one corner we got the Admiral: he doesn’t know what he’s
doing and remains completely unaware of the problems around him. In another corner
is West: probably not even a man; more likely a rodent. His constant sniveling
and whining keeps everyone from finding out his secret plans. I dunno what those
plans are but he’s up to something. Then in another corner we have Miles: He thinks
he’s…
‘Blake?’ Miles asked.
Blake realized he had been daydreaming.
‘Oh, sorry. What?’
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yeah sure, let’s go.’
The group had each been given machine guns before they came down. Blake
and Price had been given Portable Flame Units (PFU’s). Miles pulled on the door
switch and it slid open.
‘Remember,’ Miles whispered, ‘stay low, move slow.’
So they quietly made their way into the first tank. There were scratches
all over the inside and a broken chain but otherwise nothing. They went left and
came into another tank. It too was empty. They couldn’t head right because b4 was
too important. Blake walked over and looked at the creature through the glass.
It stared back at him with one large black eye. It reminded him of the beast he
and Collins had run from on the catwalks. A whisper grabbed his attention. It
was the guy in the military garb. What was his name again? Oh well. He was whispering
something. Blake walked over and looked into the other cell. Inside there was
nothing.
‘What is it?’ Blake whispered.
‘Shhh,’ the guy said and he pointed to the empty room again.
Blake didn’t understand. The room was empty. Why are we waiting?
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Blake said and he attempted to move forward.
Another whisper stopped him. It was Miles this time.
‘Stop. Listen,’ he whispered.
Blake sat back down and listened. He could hear the clicking of a small
alien’s claws in the next room but it still looked empty. Blake looked at Miles
and he gave Blake a confused shrug. The man in white overalls, Lyle moved forward.
He held out his gun and walked in. He reached the center of the room and gave
the all-clear sign. He stood up and a small ball of flesh dropped down from the
roof onto his head. Lyle was dead, Blake thought as he and Price rushed forward
to burn him. They couldn’t stop for long. They heard growling and screeching noises
from all around. The creatures were now aware of their presence. They ran through
the next chamber and were faced with another mass of flesh. They lit it on fire
and ran forward. Each chamber held another mass of creature that was easily
destroyed. It was incredible how easily the beasts could be killed when they didn’t
have the element of surprise with them. They continued through the chambers until
they came into the one containing an old man of about sixty with balding white
hair.
‘Oh thank god!’ Faraday said as the group rushed in, ‘I thought I was dead
for sure!’
‘Don’t be silly doctor,’ Blake said, ‘you can’t die. You haven’t met me
yet.’
‘Ah, you must be Blake. I’m Doctor Faraday, Benedict told me what you said
to him,’ Faraday began.
‘If I may doctor, we must get out of here first. The debriefing can be done
later,’ Miles cut in.
‘Quite right,’ Faraday agreed, ‘let’s go.’
The group turned and began walking back out. The chambers were eerily quiet
now that the test creatures were vanquished. Blake walked past the b4 chamber
door and glanced at the creature. Its black eye winked at Blake and the creature
moved away from the door. Blake’s eyes narrowed but he kept moving. Just then
the door to b4’s chamber broke down.
‘Oh shit!’ Miles voice shouted.
Blake turned around to see that the creature had gored Miles. His body was
lifted off into the air but somehow he was still alive. He raised his gun and fired
on the creature. Blood sprayed but otherwise the beast continued moving.
‘Price, take Faraday and go,’ Blake shouted.
Price nodded and ran towards the exit with Faraday. The other soldier with
them ran behind the creature and shot at it. His efforts were futile because the
creature just lashed out tentacles and wrapped him up. Its back opened up into
a large maw and swallowed him whole. Meanwhile, Miles continued to shoot.
‘Miles, Miles,’ Blake shouted.
He looked over at Blake and mouthed the word, “run.” Then he began shooting
at the glass. It began cracking and soon shattered. Water poured into the room.
Blake turned and ran. The water was close on his heels as he slid into the next
room and hit the wall. He fell to the ground but was soon back up and running
towards the exit. He found Price and Faraday waiting for him at the other end.
As soon as he was out with them Faraday hit a switch and the door sealed itself
off. Water crashed against the closed door but it didn’t matter. They made it.
They all slumped to the ground breathing hard. Then they began laughing. Just then
West came down the staircase red-faced.
‘What the hell do you think your doing?’ he screamed, spittle flying off
his lips, ‘you just destroyed our most valuable specimen!’
He continued screaming as Faraday stood up and slowly walked over to him.
As soon as Faraday was close enough he raised his arm his slugged West in the face
hard. West dropped to the ground, unconscious.
‘I never liked him anyway,’ Faraday said smiling as he rubbed his hand.
‘You’re not half bad, doctor,’ Blake said.
‘Serves the loud mouth right,’ Price said.
They heard footsteps and looked up to see the admiral coming down the
stairs.
‘Doctor Faraday! Glad to see you’re alive, I see that you’ve sorted out
West,’ he said happily.
‘Yes, but unfortunately Miles and two of our men were killed trying to save
me,’ Faraday replied.
‘A minor loss,’ Johnstone said with an uncaring wave of his hand.
‘A minor loss?’ Faraday said shocked, ‘when it comes to human lives, nothing
is a minor loss!’
‘Please doctor, you should lay down,’ Johnstone reasoned, ‘you’ve had a
hard day…’
Just then a large explosion rocked the sub. Bolts shot out of the sides
of the sub as water began pouring in. One of the bolts flew through the admiral’s
head. He dropped to the floor, blood pouring from his forehead. The sub rocked
again sending Blake, Faraday and Price sprawling to the ground.
‘The hell’s going on?’ Blake shouted.
‘I don’t know,’ Price shouted back, ‘but this sub is falling apart. We gotta
get out now!’
Faraday and Blake nodded and began making their way up the stairs. They
came into the observation deck and found it empty. The quickly ran over to the
other stairwell and began going up to the top of the sub. As they came to the
top of the stairwell, Glenn and Benedict came running up to them.
‘You guys okay?’ Benedict asked.
‘Just peachy,’ Blake replied.
‘Where are the others?’
‘Gone,’ Blake replied, ‘they’re gone.’
‘Shit.’
‘What’s going on up here?’
‘Someone let of a large amount of explosives above the sub. It’s wreaking
havoc with the systems.’
‘Are they repairable?’ Faraday asked.
‘Well doctor, let me put it this way: it would be cheaper to buy a new sub
rather than fix this one.’
‘Shit,’ Price murmured.
Another rocking explosion sent them sprawling to the floor.
‘Come on!’ Glenn shouted, helping Blake to his feet.
The group ran through the maze of empty hallways until they were at the
sub hatch. There a large group of people was running back and forth. Some were trying
to keep the sub controls under control and were desperately turning wheels and pulling
levers on the walls. Others were simply trying to reach the exit hatch. Benedict,
Glenn and Faraday went up first followed by Price. Blake grabbed the ladder but
was knocked back down by a man running down the hall. Cursing, he picked himself
back up. Admiral Johnstone grinned at Blake as he walked by. Nodding back, Blake
began to climb the ladder again when he stopped. The Johnstone he had just seen
didn’t have a large bloody hole in his head. Blake thought for a moment but when
he heard a scream from further down the hallways he shook his head and climbed.
When he reached the top of the hatch a soldier dressed in a black uniform grabbed
Blake and helped him up. A bunch of men in yellow plastic suits then ran past him
carrying what looked like chemical spray guns. They went down the hatch Blake had
just escaped and within moments more screams came from the sub.
‘Blake,’ a gravely voice called.
‘Whitley?’ Blake turned around.
Whitley was a tall trim figure. Beneath his baggy arctic uniform was a
mass of powerful muscles. His hair was grey and his features sharp. His chiseled
face seemed to be incapable of emotion, yet when Blake saw him he smiled broadly.
‘How was your day?’ he asked nonchalantly.
‘H… H… How was my day!?’ Blake exclaimed, ‘it’s been bloody well brilliant!
Thanks for asking, Whitley!’
'Good,' Whitley replied, 'now if you'll just cooperate...'
'What? Hold up, cooperate?' Blake asked incredulously, 'just what the hell's
going on? Did you know about this fucking alien infecion? Tell me what's going
on!'
‘Nothing that concerns you soldier, that’s classified information.’
‘What do you mean it doesn’t concern me? Look, my men are dying out there.
I’ve seen first hand what this bloody thing can do, and you're telling me it doesn't
concern me?’
‘Oh, you have no idea what it can do.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Disarm yourself, soldier; and go with these men to be tested,’ Whitley
answered, turning around.
‘I ain’t going anywhere until I get some god-damned answers!’ Blake replied,
aiming his weapon at the Colonel.
‘Not a wise decision, Blake; you see, you may find yourself a little… out
of your league?’
Dozens of heavily clad soldiers popped up on the catwalks and took aim at
Blake.
‘I assure you, they’re safeties are off.’
‘Go to hell, sir.’
‘If I must, but I will be taking you with me,’ and with that Whitley spun
around and fired an odd-looking side arm at Blake.
A hiss of air and a feathered dart flew out of the gun and into Blake’s
neck. Darkness washed over his vision and he fell to the ground.
‘What have you done?’ Faraday asks breathlessly.
‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it doctor. It’s a simple fast
acting neuro-tranquilizer; one that you created if I’m not mistaken.’
‘I… I will not partake in any more of this madness.’
‘You will partake in what ever I say you will partake in, Faraday.’
Faraday glared into Whitley’s eyes. What he saw in those black pits held
him and scared the living daylights ouf of him. Faraday found himself unable to
take his gaze away. Fortunately for the doctor, Whitley whirled around and began
walking away. After a few steps he paused.
‘Get sleeping beauty out of here and make sure that when you escort the
good doctor you treat him gently. He’s had a rough day.’
Chapter 9 – strata
‘Self-destruct sequence activated; please evacuate Strata Medical
Laboratories immediately,’ a prerecorded women’s voice asked politely throughout
the entire base.
Faraday stood in front of a computer terminal clicking away at the keyboard.
Whitley had gone mad. That much was obvious. The infected creatures had somehow
gotten out of their containment chambers and were running rampant throughout the
complex. Unless they were stopped now there would be no end to the havok they would
create.
---in an adjacent room—-The head floated in the tube silently. An eerie blue light filled the small,
dimly lit room. Several tall cylindrical glass tubes lined either side of the chamber.
Each contained a specimen more horrific than the last, each varying in size and
each varying in shape. It was like a carnival house of horrors. Of all the tubes,
the one containing the head mesmerized Whitley. The human head floated there
listlessly. Unblinking. It stared into Whitley’s eyes and bored a hole deep into
his soul. Smiling, Whitley tapped the glass tube with his pistol. The head blinked;
for that was all it could do. The liquid that kept the creature in limbo suspended
most major movements. Blinking seemed to be all it could do. Whitley didn’t know
how that was supposed to work but that didn't really matter. After all, he didn't
much care.
‘Sir, what are you doing?’
The voice startled him and Whitley whirled around and fired upon the shape.
No bang, just a simple ‘thwip’ noise. Thank modern technology for silencers. The
shape gasped and clutched at his side. It was one of the base engineers. He stumbled
forward and tried to speak but no words came from his mouth. As he began to fall
Whitley reached forward and caught him. The man looked up into Whitley’s eyes.
Fear was what could be seen in them; Fear and confusion.
‘Tsk tsk,’ Whitley clucked, ‘you shouldn’t sneak up on someone and scare
them when they have a weapon drawn. Bad things… happen.’
‘I… I…’ the man began.
‘Shhh,’ Whitley hushed silently, then read the nametag on the mans left
breast, ‘Dixon… I’m sorry, you just hold tight. Soon you wont feel anything at all.’
He half-carried, half-dragged Dixon to the end of the room and gently set
him down. The man slumped over, still gasping for breath.
‘You should be thankful,’ Whitley says in a low voice, ‘you get what will
soon be a rare pleasure. You get to die a man.’
As he turned around to leave the room Whitley heard a female voice play
over the intercom:
‘Self-destruct sequence activated; please evacuate Strata Medical
Laboratories immediately.’
‘Fuck,’ Whitley mumbled to himself as he walked out of the chamber, completely
forgetting about the man struggling for life in the dark.
With a few dozen long strides, Whitley was out of the room and into one
of the medical labs. Upon first entering he spotted Blake, still unconscious from
the drugs lying on the table. Blood had been drawn from him for testing and was
at that moment under analysis. Besides that, several tubes and wires run into his
body taking various readouts of his vitals. Whitley heard breathing and the clicking
of a keyboard to his right and glanced in that direction. Faraday was standing
there playing with the terminal, unaware of the Colonel’s presence.
‘Just what are you doing?’ Whitley asked in a calm yet commanding voice.
‘Destroying the base, Reese. The creatures have taken over and unless we
stop them now they’ll be no stopping them at all,’ Faraday replied without looking
up and in a tone without the slightest hint of surprise.
Maybe he did hear Whitley come in after all.
‘I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.’
At this, Faraday faltered.
‘Are you crazy? Do you know what this thing is capable of?’ he asked, looking
up at Whitely.
‘More than you know.’
‘Then you surely know that we can’t stop them once they get out.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’
‘Really? What do you mean?’
‘Simple, Shawn, the infection can be controlled.’
‘How can you say that?’
‘I will go down in history as the first successful human test subject,’
Whitley continued, ‘the first human able to control the virus and use it to his
own accord.’
‘No. No that’s not possible,’ Faraday looked away refusing to believe.
‘The results can’t be ignored. You said so yourself that this organism could
greatly benefit mankind.’
‘I… I don’t understand how you got the virus…’
‘And why not? You were the one who created the B4 strain.’
‘B4,’ Faraday’s face darkens, he is becoming angry, ‘you injected yourself
with the B4 didn’t you. Even though I told you it was unsafe and untested you injected
yourself didn’t you?’
‘The results cannot be ignored.’
‘No, I will not allow this. I refuse to help you,’ with this Faraday turned
his back to Whitley and back to the terminal.
‘Ha. I don’t need your help.’
Faraday didn’t notice Whitley raise his arm and he doesn’t notice him aim
the pistol at him. Though he sure as hell noticed the bullet slam into his back
and fly out his chest. Faraday gasped and clutched at the wound. Hands covered
in blood, he dropped to his knees. With one last groan he fell forward onto his
face. Eyes open and staring but unfocused and hazy as Whitley walked out of the
room.
Chapter 10 – must have lost my mind
Black. Fuck black. Sleeeeep. Where the hell am I? In my head? Hi Frances.
Hi Frank. Please, call me Frances. No wait, don't call me. Oh? I prefer the term:
Blake. Can you call me that? No problem, Blake. How are you? I am good. Do you
know where I am? No, I was hoping you would know. Well then what use are you? Fuck
you.
Voices? Someone calling my name?
‘Yo Blake, wake up! Come on!’ a familiar voice called.
Not a voice that I’ve known a long time. Someone I recently met? Someone
I fought with. Yes. I shot stuff with him in the water. Wait. That make’s no sense.
SHH! What? More voices, listen.
‘It’s no use, hey? He’s been drugged by Enphometaphine,’ said a voice with
a heavy Brooklyn accent.
‘Enphometaphine?’ the familiar voice repeated.
‘Yeah it’s uh, this really powerful drug, see? Faraday made it. Knocks
you out in a flash and when you come to again you’re stoned as hell.’
‘So you’re saying Blake is useless to us?’
‘Fuckin’ rights, we might as well just leave him. He’ll slow us down too
much.’
‘Hey, we are not leaving Blake,’ said a new voice.
Was that Glenn? Tell me that was Glenn. That was Glenn. I like Glenn. Where’s
Benedict? Ha, Benedict. Reminds me of eggs. Yolk. White. What’s the opposite of
white?
white.
Black? Fuck black. Sleeep. It’s yolk you moron. Yolk is the opposite of
What a horrible joke. Blake? Fuck Blake. Watch your bloody language.
‘I agree, I am not leaving Blake behind,’ familiar again.
‘Thank you, Price,’ Glenn.
Hmm, oh yeah, Price. I remember him. We shot stuff in the water. Found the
doctor. The Love Doctor?
‘You guys can go to hell, you know that?’ Brooklyn again, ‘we’re gonna have
enough trouble carrying Dixon around let alone both of them.’
‘I only need one man to help support me,’ a new voice said, a gruffy voice.
‘Well I ain’t carrying you, someone needs to hold the guns,’ Brooklyn.
‘Fine, Falcheck, I tell you what, I’ll help Dixon and Glenn will help Blake.
You, you can carry the guns,’ mmmmm Price?
‘Fine,’ Brooklyn, or Falcheck I guess.
A pause. Why have they stopped talking? Thinking probably. Weeee. Price
and Falcheck and Dixon and Glenn and Gruffy-voice. Gruffy would be Dixon? Price
and Falcheck… That make’s price check. Price check on aisle nine!
‘When do you think he’ll come to?’ Dixon McGruff.
‘I don’t know for sure. We should think about moving pretty soon though,’
Falcheckers.
Stopped talking again. Damn blackness, I wish I could see what they were
doing when they stopped talking… Hmmm, I wonder… Uno? The Game of Life? A jerk
circle? Hahaha, monkeybars. Wait! What? You fool, the eyes! Of Ra? No, your eyes!
I have those? Yes. Really? Yes! Do they work? YES! Tell me, how do I go about using
these eyes. Fuck you.
---outside blake’s mind--Four men stood around in the medical bay. Glenn and Price had found each
other in the cellblock and had both managed to escape. The doors on their cells
had been conveniently removed. They had snuck through the dying remains of what
was now the Strata base: Head of Gen/Inc operations in Antarctica. Rubble now
lined most hallways and broken electronics sparked. The hallways were almost dead
quiet except for the occasional sound of one of those creatures moving through the
ventilation shafts. They had spotted a creature in the middle of assimilating a
human on their journey but had managed to bypass it with relative ease. Along the
way they ran into Falcheck. A short-tempered, fiery man, he almost shot them when
they first met. He was a medical officer. They allowed him to perform blood tests
on them and then he performed one on himself. They were all human. They then traveled
together. A short while later they found Blake’s unconscious body in the medical
bay and in the room adjacent from it, a man clinging onto life. Falcheck refused
to help the man until he was sure he was human. After a moment of tension, the injured
man was found to be human and they went to work.
Half an hour later they were all in the medical bay watching Blake. Dixon
was recovering his stamina fast and was about ready to leave. Falcheck was itching
to go but since everyone else refused he was forced to wait. Blake stirred and
Glenn snapped to attention.
‘Hey! Blake’s moving!’ he almost shouted, in excitement.
‘Blake? You with us Blake?’ Price said moving over to his side.
‘Price check on aisle nine,’ Blake mumbled, his eyes opening slightly; Price
could see that they were badly bloodshot.
‘He won’t make sense for a while. Enphometaphine is a severe hallucinogen.
Right now he’s trippin’ in the clouds,’ Falcheck put in.
‘Blake can you walk?’ Price says, ignoring Falcheck.
---inside blake’s head--‘Blake can you walk?’ Pricey asked.
Pfft, of course I can walk. He mean’s right now you dolt. HEY! Maybe I
don’t want to. Maybe you can’t. Just watch me fuck face. Watch your bloody language.
Sorry.
Well, here we go body. I know you I and I never really get a chance to talk…
We just kinda go about each other’s own business and coordinate it so that we both
function fine; but now I need your help. I kinda needa stand up. Can you do that?
Arm 1: Check. Arm 2: Check. You are cleared for takeoff. Clear the runway!
Clear the runway!
---the medibay--Blake raised both his arms straight in the air and a large grin spread across
his face.
‘What’s he doing?’ Glenn asked.
‘Have you ever been stoned, kid?’ Falcheck asked, turning to Glenn.
‘No, and I'm proud of that.’
‘I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. It’s good to be clean.
I’m just saying, he’s stoned and you’d probably understand better if you’d been
stoned before…’
‘Shh! We get the point!’ Price interrupts.
Blake began moving his arms back and forth and making airplane wooshing
noises.
---inner blake--Vroooooom! EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH! BAMMMM! AHHHHHHHH! C R A S H! And the red baron
make’s another kill… What’s this? People grabbing my arms? I can’t see! Black.
Fuck black. Open eyes, I command it. There we go. Hi Price.
‘Hi Price,’ I say.
‘Good morning, Blake,’ Price replies.
Why are you pulling me up? Uh, I think he’s gonna try and stand you up.
Really? Yeah. Oh cool… ACK! NO! MY LEG’S ARENT READY!
‘Whoa, Lock and load legs, here we go again,’ Blake says aloud.
Phew we made it. I seem to be standing. Swaying. Hey look it’s Glenn! Hi
Glenn!
‘Hey Glenn, howsit goin?’
‘Hiya Blake, I’m good,’ Good man that Glenn. Good man.
‘Price! I haven’t seen you since a long time ago! How long’s it been?’ Blake
asked, turning to the man who was supporting him.
‘Six, seven hours? Maybe more?’ Price replied.
Hmmm, injured fellow. I’m supposing he’s the Dixon fellow since he needed
to be carried as well.
‘Petite Danon,’ Blake mumbled incoherently.
‘What?’ Price asked.
Blake pointed to the injured man and mumbled again. Something about fishes.
Red fishes.
‘The name’s Dixon. The guy behind you is Falcheck,’ the injured man speaks.
His voice is gruffy. He is Dixon. That must mean Falcheck is Brooklyn. Instead
of talking so I can hear the Brooklyn accent you just nod? What’s wrong with you?
‘Blake, stay with me now, we’re gonna try and get outta here…’ Price again?
Damn, the outside world is boring. I’m going back. Back again. Tell a friend.
Cus you’re beautiful. You talking to me? Yeah… Sick! What? I’ll tell you what:
mmmuffins. Pointless I say.
---later---
My fuckin’ head. Shit what is going on? Where am I? Shit. Whitley that
fuck. Am I moving? I am. Ok. I was drugged; and I think I’m stoned. Haha… shit…
I remember this feeling, way back in the good ol’days. Daze. The good ol’daze.
‘Shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up!’ that’s that Falcheck guy.
Who are those other two guys with us now? Let’s see. We got me, Price,
Glenn, that Dixon bloke and that screaming Falcheck guy. I don’t remember the other
two.
‘Hey, who are you guys?’ I ask.
‘Shut up,’ Falcheck says to me this time.
‘Fuck you man, I wanna know who they are.’
‘Blake you already know who they are,’ Price whispers into my ear. Like
a hiss. Hispers.
‘I do?’
‘We’ve only introduced them to you eight times.’
‘Uh… I’m not good with names?’
‘Stanmore and Fisk, you dolt,’ Falcheck. Man that guy’s a peckerhead.
Screw this. They’re arguing about some shit. Doesn’t concern me which way
we go… Let’s flip a coin. Left we go heads, Right we go tails. Shit. Hahahahaha!
‘Hahahahahaa!’ I laugh out loud. Lol?
‘You okay, Blake?’ Glenn asking me.
Stanmore and Falcheck are still arguing. Apparently Falcheck doesn’t trust
Stanmore’s sense of direction. He want’s to continue through this floor while
Stanmore says go down. Down in a spiral. Staircase. Spiral Staircase.
‘Nothing my friend,’ I say, clapping my hand on Glenn’s shoulder, ‘nothing
at all.’
Hey, I just realized I’ve been walking on my own for the past… uh… little
while? Poor Dixon. Still requires aid. Huh? Some kinda compromise has been made.
Now everyone is paying attention to Stanmore.
‘Alright, fuck this. I don’t care what this shithead thinks; I’m going down.
There’s too much activity up here. We’ll be a lot safer down on the lower levels,’
Stanmore, ‘So whoever wants to come with me can come with me.’
More arguing. Useless to pay attention. I’ll just go wherever Price and
Glenn go. Oh hey, they seem to be deciding now. Hmmm… lettsee. Falcheck and Fisk
seem to want to stay on this floor. Dixon wants to stay with them. Now Fisk is
helping Dixon to his feet. Looks like it’s me and the guys. Oh, and Stanmore.
I wonder what his full name is… Stanley Stanmore? Sturgis Stanmore? Sal Stanmore?
Cedric Stanmore? Seth Stanmore? I don’t know. Looks like we goin’ downstairs.
---outside blake’s head--They had found Stanmore and Fisk locked up in a holding area. As usual,
Falcheck insisted they be tested. No complaints there. Both of them, thankfully,
came up clean. The group wandered through the damaged corridors without any more
incidents or events. It was if the base had died. They knew better, though. The
base may be dying but it was still deadly; like an injured animal backed into a
corner. As far as they knew, a group of marines or an alien entity could be waiting
around the corner or stalking them as they progressed. Yet, still nothing happened.
The group eventually came across a fork in their travels. Take the stairs down
to the lower floors (elevators were out of service), or continue through the floor
they were currently on. This is where they ran into some problems.
‘Simple, we keep going the way we’re going,’ Falcheck said aloud.
Stanmore had other thoughts.
‘Uh… hate to burst your bubble but before the guards abandoned us in our
cells I heard one of them talking to the radio. They’re going up,’ Stanmore said
dryly, ‘I don’t know if any are on this floor still but it’s obvious to me that
if we want to increase our chances of survival we should go down.’
‘Down to where those things are?’
‘For all we know the infected are following the marines to the surface.’
‘So then we may run into a bunch of them down there on their way up, is
that it?’
‘No, you’re twisting my words around…’
‘Fuck you, I ain’t twisting shit, I…’
Blake broke out laughing at that.
‘…I, I ain’t fucking going down there and that’s that!’
‘But it’s suicide…’
‘What you’re proposing is suicide, buddy, now shut the fuck up, I don’t
wanna hear you’re shit anymore.’
‘Hey fuck you! You wanna kill everyone? Fine! You can…’
‘Shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up!’ Falcheck was shouting now.
‘Why don’t you, you…’
‘Hey, who are you guys?’ Blake suddenly asked in a loud, dazed voice.
‘Shut up,’ Falcheck replied to him in a quiet tone of anger.
‘Fuck you man, I wanna know who they are,’ Blake persisted.
Price, who had been standing beside Blake at the time, whispered into his
ear, ‘Blake, you know who they are.’
‘I do?’ Blake asked, this time to Price. He was genuinely perplexed.
‘We’ve only introduced them to you eight times,’ Price continued, still
using a quiet voice.
‘Uh… I’m not good with names?’ Blake’s voice was still loud as hell.
‘Stanmore and Fisk, you dolt,’ Falcheck finally said to Blake.
Blake frowned and looked down as if in deep thought. Dixon and Glenn sighed
almost in unison as Stanmore and Falcheck continued their rant. Moments later Blake
burst out laughing. It was sudden enough to cause Falcheck and Stanmore to halt
their argument long enough to glare at Blake.
‘You okay, Blake?’ Glenn asked the man.
‘Nothing my friend,’ he replied, clapping his hand on his shoulder as if
he has just told someone an inside joke to someone who wasn’t in on it, ‘nothing
at all.’
After this, Stanmore raised his hands in the air.
‘Alright, fuck this. I don’t care what this shithead thinks; I’m going down.
There’s too much activity up here. We’ll be a lot safer down on the lower levels,’
Stanmore, ‘So whoever wants to come with me can come with me.’
They all milled about for a few seconds before speaking.
‘I want to go with Falcheck,’ Dixon said aloud.
‘Me too,’ Fisk said stepping forward and helping his injured friend to his
feet; Falcheck was smiling.
‘Well I’m personally gonna go with Stanmore,’ Price said, nodding towards
Stanmore.
Stanmore nodded in return.
‘Well I’m staying with Price,’ Glenn replied standing up.
‘And you have my sword, Frodo,’ Blake said, stumbling to his feet and bowing
to Stanmore; he seemed to think he was quite hilarious, ‘I shall follow Price and
Glenn all the way to Mount Doom.’
Stanmore turned to Falcheck and smiled back at him. Falcheck frowned.
‘Fuckin’ whatever,’ he said, ‘I’m gone.’
Falcheck stormed down the hallway. Fisk and Dixon glanced at the others
and nodded farewell. As they were entering the doorway Dixon shouted a ‘good luck’
to the others.
Price returned Dixon’s words and looked at Stanmore. The man shook his head.
‘I guess we continue,’ he said.
‘Agreed,’ Price replied, getting to his feet.
Blake stepped forward and stumbled. Glenn was able to catch him from falling
face first and Blake began laughing again. The whole routine was getting tiring
but now that Blake was somewhat conscious and moving around on his own, he was quickly
returning to normal. The four men started towards the door and down the stairs.
Down to the depths of Strata.
---meanwhile, deep beneath strata on an underground roadway--He had been dying. The loved and revered Colonel Whitley had been dying.
No matter how hard he fought, his stomach cancer had been stronger and in the end
would own his life. This would be the Colonel’s last mission. But maybe, just
maybe…
Faraday’s research had discovered that the alien creature had incredible
regenerative capabilities. Further analysis proved to them that the creature was
not an entity as they had first believed, but was a biological weapon; perhaps a
bacterium or virus.
The soldiers that encountered the weapon in action referred to it as a plague
and because no real distinction could be made whether or not the entity was actually
living or just pretending to be living, the techies had lovingly dubbed the weapon
the ‘Cloud Virus.’
The virus had been easy to manipulate and change. Almost too easy, but the
researchers never figured that a virus that depended on mimicking other forms to
function could mimic itself a brain; that its stolen intelligence was maybe using
the researchers, filling their heads with false confidence. After months of testing
on animals and finding no visible sign of the assimilation process either on a visual
level or on the sub-atomic level, they began testing on humans. Some guinea pigs
from a mental institution in America that was privately owned by Gen/Inc were the
first victims.
Upon being injected with the virus they quickly went through the often horrific
and graphic process of assimilation. When the researchers questioned the resulting
clones that were left over, the infected individuals acted as if nothing had happened,
as if the researchers were crazy. Which of course they weren’t, they had seen the
entire thing through the surveillance camera and knew the men they were speaking
with weren’t completely human. Still, the façade persisted. It persisted until
one of the researchers entered the room by himself. The ignorant fool believed
that since the man didn’t seem to realize he was infected, that he didn’t know how
to use virus, he would be okay. He was of course wrong. The surveillance tapes
caught the entire thing.
The infected doctor left the room and the man and returned to his research.
Within five minutes, troopers caught him and burned him. The test subjects, all
of them, were also burned.
More research was done. More and more and more, until finally Faraday isolated
the viruses’ specific ability to have such powerful regeneration capabilities;
Whitley was saved.
Faraday had found the B4 Strain of the Cloud Virus while he was tampering
with the genetic material of one of the viral cells. His team had been trying to
make the virus more resistant to fire and heat in case of a possibility of using
the virus as a bio-weapon against America’s enemies. The end result was a strain
of the Cloud that gave the injected extremely powerful regenerative abilities and
increased flame retardancy.
Whitley had been ecstatic. Faraday had found something that could have
possibly cured him of his terminal cancer. Whitely could continue his command and
be with his men, and in three months return home to his wife when another Colonel
took on his command. But no, Faraday would not give him the injection. ‘It hasn’t
been tested yet,’ had been his excuse.
What Faraday had never know was that that very night, Whitley snuck back
into the cold storage and injected himself with one of the B4 shots.
And now. Now Whitley was as fit as a fiddle; as healthy as a horse. He
had recovered fully and had never felt so alive. Sure, he had become infected.
He realized it. He knew. He could feel the virus inside him. Like a constant itch,
but one that you only felt if you acknowledged it. However, Whitley had somehow
controlled the infection. It had not assimilated him; he had assimilated it. Now
it was his tool, which he used to stay alive.
But what really got him was how happy he was. He had never felt this way
in his life and he wanted the entire world to know this feeling. Whitley was going
to rain the B4 Strain over the known world. Everyone would have his amazing ability
and everyone would be at peace.
Whitley looked around at the roadway the convoy was waiting idle on. This
was the lowest floor of Strata and was deep underground, however it was necessary
to secretly transport equipment from the base to the airfield. Which was what they
were going to do now.
Eighteen transport trucks, each driven by two healthy human
soldiers. Soon they would be superhuman. In the back of each transport truck were
thousands of vials of the B4 Strain. With Faraday out of the way, Whitley had been
able to manufacture the strain without hassle.
Whitley breathed in the musty underground air and looked up at the lazy
glow of the lights on the tunnel roof. He smiled to himself.
‘All units, we are go, I repeat we are go,’ he said into his radio.
Then, still smiling, he hopped into the passenger side of the lead truck.
He nodded at the driver and the man put the truck into gear and drove forward.
Whitley’s smile had now broken out into a toothy grin.
Soon, he thought, soon the whole world will feel this.
And what Whitley didn’t know was that the virus had taken hold of him.
Chapter 11 – not nearly close enough to hell
Blake didn’t feel good. The drug effects had worn off and now he was left
with a horrible feeling in his gut and a spinning head. He was crushing. He had
vomited at least three times and now his stomach felt raw. He remembered Stanmore
leading them down deep into the base. Through empty corridors, through rooms filled
with pipes and forklifts, and finally towards more stairs, Blake had endured all
of it. The next door opened up into what seemed to be hell, though.
‘Hoo boy,’ Price whistled, ‘it’s fucking hot down here.’
‘I’ll say,’ Glenn mumbled as he walked past Price.
The walls seemed to be on fire. Orange light is dancing everywhere. For
a moment, Blake truly believes he’s in hell. That is, until Stanmore speaks.
‘It’s the furnace room. These incinerators also double has a heating source,’
he explains.
‘I feel like I’m in fucking hell,’ Blake mumbles as he stumbles towards
a box.
‘Welcome to Antarctica,’ Stanmore replied, ‘it’s as close as we’re gonna
get to hell.’
‘Why are you guys so pleasant?’ Glenn asked sarcastically.
Stanmore just laughed. The group continued through the forest of crates
ready for incineration without much more conversation. Glenn helped Blake through
most of it while Stanmore and Price walked ahead. Pretty soon they found themselves
looking down into an even larger room with an even larger incinerator. Stanmore
began walking around the railings towards a metal stairway that led down there.
‘You’re kidding, right?’ Blake complained, ‘do we have to go down there?’
‘Hey, I worked here,’ Stanmore replied as he began going down the stairwell,
‘I know where we’re going.’
Blake groaned. His stomach growled. He needed food.
‘Well do you have any food?’ he asked.
‘What?’ Stanmore asked, walking back up the staircase.
‘Food,’ Blake repeated, ‘I’ve lost my lunch so many times I’m running on
fumes.’
‘Yeah, and I’m kinda hungry too,’ Glenn agreed.
Stanmore sighed and returned to where the others stood. He looked around
then pointed at a doorway further down the walkway.
‘That’s an office right there. The guys that work down here keep a fridge
in there fully stocked,’ he explained, ‘the cupboards are full of dry goods as well.’
‘Great!’ Price exclaimed, ‘let’s eat up before we leave.’
Stanmore laughed as they began walking towards the door. Blake pushed Glenn
aside when he went to help him. Blake wanted to try walking around on his own now.
Glenn shrugged and walked ahead into the room that Price and Stanmore had entered.
Blake gripped the railway and managed to work himself towards the doorway. His legs
still felt wobbly but at least he was managing okay without falling flat on his
face. Excited voices came from the room ahead. One of them wasn’t one he recognized.
He head stuff being pushed to the ground as he reached the doorway and looked in.
Someone was bleeding. Price and Glenn had picked up the bleeding man and set him
on the table in the middle of the room. Stanmore, meanwhile, was grabbing bandages
and gauze for the man’s wound. Blake made his way over to the table and sat down
in a chair by the man’s head. Blake looked at the man while the others went to
work on his body.
‘You alright?’ Blake asked in a dry voice.
‘Just peachy, sir,’ the man replied, turning to look at Blake.
‘Captain Blake,’ Blake continued, holding out his hand.
‘Temple, my name’s Temple,’ the man said through clenched teeth as he reached
back with his hand and shook Blake’s.
Blake looked around at the table. Glenn has opened Temple’s uniform and
was pouring water on his stomach. There was a hole near there, looked like a bullet
wound. Temple had been shot. Price was nearby, wiping away the blood and applying
pressure. Behind them, Blake could see Stanmore. Stanmore had taken an amount
of Temple’s blood and now held a light to it. Blake held his breath but nothing
happened. He watched as the blood burned. Stanmore sighed and turned back to help
the others.
‘Is it bad, sir?’ Temple asked.
Blake looked back and grinned.
‘Hey, I’ve been through worse,’ he said, ‘you’ll be fine.’
Temple nodded and lay back. Glenn had shot him with morphine and he was
noticeably calmer.
‘What happened to you anyways?’ Blake asked him.
Temple opened his eyes again and looked over at Blake, ‘Whitley happened,
sir.’
Blake cocked an eyebrow, confused.
‘There was a disagreement,’ Temple explained, ‘he tried to kill me… but
he didn’t quite finish the job.’
Temple grinned at that and closed his eyes again. Blake decided he’d get
out of the other’s way. In the shape he felt, he didn’t think he’d be much help.
Maneuvering himself over to a small fridge, Blake found a couple beers and plenty
of food. He grabbed himself a ham and cheese sandwich and a beer but then thought
better of it and put the beer back. Blake ate the sandwich and then two more before
falling sleep in one of the chairs.
---a few hours later--Blake sat up in the chair wide awake and feeling surprisingly better. Almost
back to his old self. Temple, the medical officer they found bleeding in the
incinerator room office, sat in a chair adjacent to Blake. He was okay. His injury
wasn’t as bad as originally thought and he was already up and moving about with
a bandage around his abdomen. Glenn had been nice enough to clean up the blood
so they’d all have a nice place to stay for a while. Price and Stanmore had gone
exploring the furnace area for other survivors and came back with a man named Lavelle.
At first he’d been very hostile, though once they all tested their blood to show
him everyone was human he calmed down. He was tested as well and proved to be okay.
Once everyone had settled in, Lavelle told all of them a nice little story.
‘Whitley’s trying to infect the whole world,’ was the opening sentence in
the story.
‘What?’
‘You’re fucking kidding!’
‘No way!’
That was the general response. Lavelle continued.
‘He took an entire convoy over to an airfield maybe two hours ago,’ Lavelle
explained, ‘each of those trucks are filled with hundreds of vials of the Cloud
virus. If he can fly them over to the mainland then there’s no stopping him.’
The group sat in silence. The world was coming to an end and there was
nothing they could do about it. They knew what they had to do, but none of them
wanted to admit it. Blake decided he’d have to speak up. He was after all, the
highest-ranking officer between all these guys. Why shouldn’t he?
‘Think we can catch up with him?’ Blake asked.
Lavelle turned and looked at him. He didn’t want to go after Whitely. That
much Blake could tell.
‘Yeah, if you really wanted to you could,’ he replied flatly.
‘Okay,’ Blake said, standing up, ‘I’m going after him. As much as I hate
this place, I hate Whitley even more.’
Blake paused and looked around.
‘And if I can kill that fucker and save the world at the same time then
I’m sure as hell gonna try. Who’s with me?’
A silence fell over the room. Glenn was first to stand up.
‘I’ll go with you Blake,’ he said eagerly.
‘I guess I’ll come too,’ Price said from behind.
‘I owe Whitley one,’ Temple said as he stood up.
Blake turned to look at Stanmore. Stanmore just sighed.
‘Well, I really don’t want to go after Whitely seeing as how I want to stay
alive as long as possible,’ he explained, ‘but as long as our paths run along the
same road, I guess I’ll go with you. I’ll be needing an airfield if I want to get
out of here anyways, right?’
Stanmore grinned and Blake returned his grin. Blake turned and looked at
Lavelle who just sighed.
‘If we must, we must,’ he said and stood up.
The group made ready to leave, checking equipment and grabbing as much food
and drink as they could. If they were going to fight Whitley and his army of Gen/Inc
slave soldiers, they’d need to be ready. Once they had finished packing, they set
off. The group made their way through and endless maze of crates and flames as
they delved deeper into the incinerator system. The heat was unbearable. It became
increasingly worse the deeper they went, or so it seemed. With their bulky Antarctic
gear on they were sweating like pigs in the Sahara. Their clothing felt as if it
were perpetually damp. Yet, they didn’t dare take anything off. They were on
Antarctica after all. No matter how careful they were, eventually they'd all be
stomping through the soon. They didn’t plan on being near the incinerators for
much longer anyways. Up ahead, Stanmore pointed out a doorway that he claimed led
to another stairwell and further down into the base.
When the group entered the doorway, a pleasing cool breeze greeted them.
They quickly closed the door they had come in through wishing to get away from the
heat as fast as possible. The stairwell was shaped like a rectangle sitting up
length-wise and had a spiral staircase that went along its outer edge. In the middle
of the roof overhead a huge fan spun lazily around and around. Dim lights poured
in from behind it, lighting the room. The spinning shadows in the room gave it
a very surreal feeling, calming and terrifying at the same time. Stanmore and Price
went ahead, leading the group. Glenn followed behind glancing side to side. He’d
never been in the Strata base before and had been doing it since Blake had been
aware. Perhaps he'd been doing it since they'd first arrived. Blake couldn’t know
for sure, he’d been ‘out-of-it’ for the majority of his time here. Temple walked
beside Blake as they traversed down the stairs followed by Lavelle. He still seemed
sour at having to go after Whitley, but being with such a large group of people
reassured him greatly. Still, he felt that if they were to run into anything, the
others should face it before he did.
A short while later, they stood at the bottom of the room, staring at another
door.
‘Well, here we are,’ Stanmore declared.
‘The underground highway’ll be right being this door,’ Lavelle put in from
behind.
Whitley’s convoy had probably already gone. They heard no noise from behind
the doorway, but it was better to be safe then sorry. Price raised his weapon,
as did Blake and Glenn, as Stanmore twisted the handle and pushed the door open
wide.
The door swung open to reveal a space much darker than the one they stood
in. Large chunks of concrete and granite lay in slabs across the asphalt road.
Rubble was everywhere. Small fires lay here and there, burning silently in the
blackness and every so often a cable flickered sending a bright splash of sparks
into the air. A few lights worked, they found as they looked out, but in between
each light was a gap of impenetrable darkness. As their eyes adjusted, they were
able to make out shapes. Bodies and wrecked vehicles were strewn about the road
along with broken boxes and machinery.
‘What… the… fuck…’ were the words that escaped Lavelle’s throat.
‘Looks like someone let off a bomb down here,’ Temple murmured.
Blake frowned as a thought entered his head.
‘Maybe Whitley knew we were coming?’ Glenn suggested from Blake’s side.
‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ Blake replied.
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Stanmore said, turning to face him, ‘how would Whitley
know any of us had survived and were after him?’
‘I don’t know,’ Blake argued, ‘maybe he has spies still working for him
down here.’
‘We haven’t seen anyone else down here though.’
‘Hence the word: spies.’
‘That doesn’t make a lot of sense,’ Temple put in, ‘why wouldn’t the spies
have just killed us? They had plenty of opportunities.’
‘Maybe there were just a couple.’
‘He’s right, even with just a few, they’d have the element of surprise and
would be able to take us all down,’ Stanmore interrupted.
‘Well what else could it have been? Some of those fucking’ aliens?’
‘Possibly…’ Lavelle mumbled from behind.
‘Now that doesn’t make sense,’ Blake continued, ‘those aliens don’t have
any radios. Don’t tell me they’re telepathic, either, ‘cause that’s just bullshit.’
‘I dunno, Blake,’ Glenn spoke this time, ‘telepathy isn’t just some pipe
dream. A few select people do have it.’
Blake sighed, Stanmore rolled his eyes and Temple cleared his throat.
‘Maybe…’ Blake began.
‘Maybe Whitley didn’t know we were coming at all,’ Price interrupted.
The group turned to look at him.
‘We’ve all worked with Whitley before, or at least seen the way he works.
We know he’s not stupid,’ Price explained, ‘he probably just did this as a precautionary
measure. Nothing more.’
Everyone sat silent for a moment. Then after a few seconds of pondering
Blake nodded his head.
‘Yeah, that sounds right,’ he said and the others agreed.
‘Well, how about we keep moving then?’ Stanmore suggested as he stepped
over the threshold of the door, ‘Whitley’s gaining distance on us. Maybe we can
find a working vehicle or something.’
‘Looking at this mess, I doubt it,’ Temple replied, stepping beside him.
Blake and the others followed them out into the dark wreckage.
‘What’re we going to do when we reach the airfield,’ Blake asked to no one
in particular, ‘we can’t just go waltzing in there. We’ll be massacred.’
‘There’s a service elevator about a half-a-mile from the airstrip,’ Lavelle
explained, ‘if it still works, we can take it up to the surface and walk through
the storm into the base. They’ll be covering the inner entrances and won’t expect
an attack from outside.’
‘And even if the elevator doesn’t work we can still climb the emergency
ladder,’ Temple finished.
Blake nodded and the group continued in silence. The bodies they walked
past became increasingly disconcerting. At first they had just been human bodies
either shot, crushed or burnt. Horrific as that may be, at least they looked human.
But these new ones they were walking by, with their twisted bone structures, many
limbs and gigantic deformities were unsettling, deeply so. They were all burnt
to an unrecognizable (not that the group wanted to recognize any of them) crisp
and lay as harmless husks of flesh on the ground. Just the fact that they weren’t
human scared everyone though. Even with the bodies around, the group slowed down
their progress when in the light. When in the light they could at least see what
they were doing. Not being nocturnal, the dark provided a bit more of a hurdle,
so when they were forced to travel through an unlit patch of ground they skittered
across as quickly as possible.
As they progressed, Blake had become increasingly aware of a noise somewhere
up ahead. It was faint, but it sounded like a deep rumbling further down the tunnel.
Temple glanced over at Blake, and by the look he gave him Blake could tell he heard
it too. They remained silent though, walking behind the others and straining to
hear that noise. As they drew closer to it someone finally spoke up.
‘Does anyone else hear that growling noise?’ it was Glenn.
‘Yeah,’ everyone else whispered back simultaneously.
‘What is it?’ Lavelle asked. Somehow he had moved from the rear to the
center during the last dark patch they went though. Temple and Blake were now bringing
up the rear.
‘No clue,’ Blake murmured back to him.
‘It sounds like an engine, like a generator,’ Stanmore whispered from up
ahead.
‘Hey, maybe it’s a vehicle?’ Price suggested.
‘One from the convoy,’ Blake said to himself as he walked further ahead
to join Stanmore at the front.
The group continued moving at a quicker pace now. The idea of a working
vehicle excited them. They had a long way to go through this subterranean tunnel
before they reached the service elevator let alone the airstrip. Not only would
a vehicle allow them to get there quicker, it would also provide a helluva lot more
protection than simply walking down the road fully exposed.
They rounded the corner and were greeted by two brake lights in the distance.
Their hearts sank a little when they saw the lights were on an angle. The vehicle,
though it’s diesel engine was still running, had somehow crashed and was now stuck
in a large wedge of debris. A slab of concrete that had fallen from the roof, Blake
surmised as he looked at the gaping opening overhead. Glenn and Lavelle began walking
ahead but Stanmore called them back.
‘Careful! There may be someone over there still,’ he whispered urgently,
‘those Gen/Inc mercenaries are armed a lot better than we are!’
‘Well then what do you propose we do?’ Lavelle whispered angrily back.
‘I don’t know,’ Stanmore admitted, ‘just let me think a moment.’
Blake looked at the wreckage only a few yards away. His eyes scanned for
something on the truck and found it. The side view mirrors. Looking in either
mirror he saw the faces of the two occupants, both looking very pale and very dead.
‘They’re dead,’ he declared, standing up, ‘let’s go.’
Stanmore argued but stopped when Temple and the others followed Blake over
to the vehicle. Blake wasn’t in the mood to take a leadership position. He’d been
enjoying himself when Stanmore, though of a lower rank, took up that position. Since
Blake had been the leader for this fucked up mission he had lost both Beta and Alpha
Team; His own team and his friend’s group. Now he just wanted to sit back and let
someone else have a go. Stanmore had done great since Blake had been under, but
now he had a new mission to complete: Whitley. He had lost a lot of time against
Whitley simply by being laid out unconscious in the base and trying to help all
the new people he encountered. Spending probably an hour wandering in the dark
tunnels didn’t help either. If he were going to stop that bastard they'd need some
speed to catch up to him.
Blake reached the drivers side of the vehicle and looked in. The man in
the driver’s seat had his head slumped forward onto his unmoving chest. Blood glistened
dully on his lap. He hadn’t died a long time ago. Blake grabbed him by his hair
and felt the lukewarm heat still within his body. Grimacing, Blake pulled his head
back. The man’s jaw was slack, his eyes sunken and rolled backwards exposing the
whites. Worst of all, there seemed to be light pouring out of his mouth. Blake
examined closer and saw that there was a hole from the bottom of his jaw that led
up through the roof of his mouth and into his brain. Blake glanced at the top of
the man’s head and saw a dark crimson hole there. He hadn’t seen it when he first
looked in. Blake let go of the man’s head and it slumped back down.
‘Look’s like poor bastards shot themselves,’ Temple’s voice came from the
other side of the vehicle. Blake looked over the bodies and saw Temple standing
at the passenger side door.
Blake looked back down at the door and grabbed the handle. He pulled on
it and nothing happened. It was locked. Sighing, Blake reached back into the vehicle
and felt for the lock. He touched something metal, but it wasn’t the lock. Pulling
it back out he saw that it was a pistol.
‘Yup, look’s like they done themselves in,’ Price mumbled from Blake’s side.
Blake handed the pistol to Glenn and reached back in. He found the lock
and pulled it up and with his other hand pulled on the handle. The door popped
out. Blake grinned and pulled the door the rest of the way open. The body slumped
out of the vehicle and landed on the ground with a thud. Blake stepped over it
and looked inside. The roof had a bit of skull plastered to it and a fair bit of
tacky blood on the seat and floor. The other door popped open and Blake saw Temple
and Lavelle pulling the other body out. The inside of the cab was a mess.
‘Do we have anything we can put on that? There is no way I’m fucking sitting
on that shit,’ Lavelle complained from the other side of the truck.
‘Maybe there’s some plastic in the back,’ Stanmore replied as he moved around
to the back of the truck’s canvassed rear end.
‘A little blood never hurt anyone,’ Temple joked pointed to his own wound
on his chest.
Glenn laughed and Price grinned but Lavelle just shook his head. Blake
walked over to the back of the truck to see if he could help Stanmore. When he
got to the back of the teetering truck he spotted Stanmore standing there with his
feet planted firmly on the ground, his gaze glued forward and his face as grey as
shale.
‘What’s wrong?’ Blake asked, but he knew as soon as he turned around.
The back of the truck was littered with broken splinters of wood and glas
tubing. They must have once contained the alien virus that Whitley was transporting
through the tunnels. None of them were whole anymore, though. Blake couldn’t see
every single vial in there but he knew that all of them must have been broken. Simply
by the fact that a large pulsating mass of what resembled a dark purple gelatin
lay bubbling in the back. It was one of those fucking aliens… Though this one seemed
to be made entirely of the virus’s molecules and had no human or dog or
whatever-it-could-get-it’s-hands-on’s DNA to support it. That was why the drivers
killed themselves. They had nothing to fight it off with and no chance to escape.
No. That’s wrong. They had one way to escape and they took that way out. Why live
a nightmare when you could die peacefully? The thought sickened Blake.
Not that Blake had a lot of time to sit and think. The virus-globule was
throbbing its way towards them with remarkable speed. Stanmore pushed Blake to
the ground just as it soared over their heads and onto a slab of granite behind
them. Stanmore stood up and began shouting as he ran around towards the cab of
the truck. Blake lay there, still stunned, staring at the purplish mass. It shuddered
and continued its course towards Blake. This time slowly, deliberately. As if it
had all the time in the world. As if everything was in its hands. As if it would
win. As if it had intelligence…
Blake rolled onto his stomach and began working his way away. By now, everyone
was yelling. Glenn, Price, Temple, Lavelle and Stanmore, all yelling and shouting
and running about, scrambling for their weapons. Blake was the only one silent.
He crawled away from the creature as it oozed towards him. He rounded the side
of the truck and nearly had his head stepped on by Stanmore’s heavy boot as he rounded
the corner. Glenn’s more nimble figured jumped over Blake’s prone body and Price
sidestepped around him as they ran towards the creature. Bursts of flame and gunfire
filled his ears along with a high ululating sound. Blake didn’t bother to turn
around. He didn’t want to watch. He was tired of this fucking madness. He wanted
it to end. He wanted the fucking creature to go away and never come back. He wanted
to go home to his wife and resume his lackluster life back home. Maybe they’d finally
have that kid they’d been talking about. They could move out into suburbia and raise
a family; A nice big family. Yeah. Then when they were old and decrepit, the kids
would take care of them. Two daughters and two sons… Or maybe three sons… Three
daughters? Blake realized the gunfire had stopped. He rolled onto his back and peered
over his chest. The blob was gone. Just these black stains on the ground burning
up like pieces of rubber. Blake felt two sets of hands grab him by either arm and
help him to his feet. He glanced and saw it was Price and Glenn.
‘Fucker burnt fast, eh?’ Price said, ‘with no flesh it was like lighting
a balloon on fire. Melted like that.’
At ‘that,’ Price snapped his fingers. Blake thanked them and walked over
to Stanmore who was now sitting on a box off to the side. Stanmore looked up at
Blake as he approached. He was breathing heavy.
‘The, the fuckin’ thing died like nothing,’ he breathed, ‘as soon as flames
touched it, it shriveled up into that!’
‘Without a host, it seems the virus's naked cells break down in a flash,’
Blake theorized.
‘Probably,’ Stanmore said, nodding his head.
‘Hey,’ Temple’s voice called their attention back to the truck, ‘why don’t
we just tear the canvas off the back off this thing and use it to inlay the inside
of the cab?’
‘That’s fine,’ Blake shouted back.
‘There’s only room for three in the cab,’ was Lavelle’s answering cry.
‘Someone’ll just have to sit in the back,’ Glenn replied like it was not
big thing, and it wasn’t.
Lavelle persisted, ‘I don’t feel good as it is, wandering out in the open.
I don’t wanna ride in the back!’
Stanmore laughed as Blake groaned and walked back towards the vehicle.
‘Then you’ll ride in the cab with me,’ Blake told Lavelle.
‘With you?’ was his reply.
‘Yeah, I’m driving.’
Temple grabbed onto the back of the truck and grimaced as he tried to lift
himself into the back. He fell back to his feet clutching at his wounded side. He
took a couple of breaths and was about to try again when Blake called to him.
‘Temple, you’re in the cab too.’
Temple looked at Price and Glenn who just shrugged and then walked over
to Blake.
`Thanks,’ he said.
Blake looked up at the canvas on the back of the truck.
‘Alright, let’s move it!’ he called.
--a while later—
Blake sat alone in the cab. He gripped the steering wheel as he turned the
key in the ignition. The canvas did a good job covering up the blood but it didn’t
help the smell. A smear of blood on the roof was all that remained of the bits of
brains but Blake couldn’t let that bother him now. He had shut the engine off when
they began removing the canvas and it roared to life eagerly when he twisted the
key. Grinning, Blake popped the clutch and shifted the vehicle into reverse. He
depressed the gas pedal and the truck lurched and flew backwards. It jerked off
the rock it was stuck on and grounded on the pavement behind it with a thud. A little
too much gas, Blake thought. Now that the vehicle was clear of the debris he shouted
for everyone to hop in. Blake closed the driver side door as Temple climbed in beside
him with Lavelle right behind him. The passenger side door shut and Blake heard
movement in the back of the truck. His rearview mirror showed Price, Glenn and Stanmore
kneeling down and grabbing onto the bars that used to hold up the canvas. The box
of the truck had been swept clean of all the viral debris in the back and now lay
on the ground behind them, burning in a pile. That was where they were going to
leave it. Blake popped the truck back into gear and pressed his foot on the gas
again. The truck moved forward and Blake smiled as he drove around the large slab
on concrete.
Here I come Whitley, he thought, here I come.
Chapter 12 – the harshest desert on the planet
They had been driving a while now. The debris had become less and less,
and more and more of the lights in the tunnel were still functioning. The convoy
was still nowhere in sight but they had driven past more vehicles. They didn’t
bother stopping. The first truck’s fuel tank must have ruptured when it crashed
and was burning brightly on the side of the tunnel. Though if it hadn’t been burning
they wouldn’t have stopped anyways. Heroism was running low with the group; their
quest to take out Whitely was taxing enough as it stood.
‘Blake, up ahead,’ Lavelle murmured from the passenger side.
Blake focused his eyes on the road ahead and saw it: a large door on the
side of the tunnel walls. It was the service elevator Lavelle had spoken of.
‘The elevator leads up to a small sentry outpost above,’ Lavelle explained,
‘they guard the topside road that connects all the Gen/Inc facilities on the
continent.’
‘That would be Strata, the Dome, Elysium and the airstrip, lest I’m mistaken,’
Temple groaned, waking up from the nap he had taken.
‘Yeah, they got a couple sentry posts spread around out there to make sure
no one’s tryin’ to spy on them,’ Lavelle added-in.
‘Who’d be try to spy?’ Blake asked, ‘the government? Don’t they fund us?’
‘Well… a shadier part of the government keeps Gen/Inc running,’ Temple
explained, ‘let’s just say that Gen/Inc gets more funding than it should.
‘I see,’ Blake replied.
‘Besides that, we got the foreign countries watchin’ us as well. The Chinese,
the Swiss, the French and English…’
‘And the Russians,’ Lavelle added.
‘Oh yeah, they’re real bad. They got their own biogenetics company working’
out here, Rus/Gen,’ Temple continued, ‘only difference is that the entire Russian
government supports them.’
‘Democracy and Communism,’ Blake sighed as he pulled the truck to a stop
by the elevator, ‘they both suck.’
They laughed and hopped out of the car. The others had already jumped out
the back and were waiting for them. Stanmore had his ‘shooter’ out and was loading
it as he stood near the door.
‘There’s a sentry above us,’ he explained, ‘trucks are used to ferry them
supplies down here when the storms are too hard for snowmobiles to go topside.’
‘So let’s make sure we’re ready for them,’ Lavelle called, arming his own
gun.
Most of them were armed with standard firearms. Point and shoot and the
little bit of lead flew at the target. The machine guns just spat them out faster
than the side arms. Blake and Price both held weapons of more importance. During
their romp through Strata, they had managed to find a few incendiary arms. Unlike
the bulky torches that Blake had used earlier, back at Outpost 31 and the Norwegian
Camp, and unlike the heavy, ‘portable’ flamethrowers his teammates had used up until
their deaths, the few they found in Strata base were amazing. They were extremely
lightweight and streamlined. Looked almost like an assault rifle save for the pilot
light burning on the end and the chemical tank protruding from the bottom of the
gun, like a malignant tumor. Since the virus had to be fought on the cellular level,
they had to burn infected victims. Acid was in short supply and they didn’t have
any anti-bodies to try and vaccinate themselves from the virus (they would never
risk injecting even DEAD Cloud cells into their body, though), fire was basically
their only choice, anyways.
Good ol’primeval fire. Blake made sure he had his flame unit ready and roaring
to go when he turned around. The others had already hit the button on the door and
it had swung open. The last person to have used the elevator must have gotten off
down here. That was a good sign. It meant less people to deal with topside. If they
were lucky maybe everyone had gone down and they wouldn’t have to deal with anyone
up top. It was wishful thinking.
The group nodded at each other in silence. They knew what they were going
to do, no need to repeat it or give a big cheer before they jumped on the elevator.
After all, nothing could raise their spirits anymore. Their spirits had died a
long time ago.
They watched the truck they traveled in disappear as the doors of the elevator slid
shut. With a clunk, it began moving up. Up to the surface. Up to the cold. Up to
a land that could make a young man turn old.
It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach the top, probably no more
than two or three minutes. It seemed much longer though because no one spoke. The
occasional sniffle or cough or shuffling of feet was all that broke the shroud of
silence. And then the elevator came to a stop. Its door slid open and soon the elevator
was filled with wind and snow. Caught off guard, Blake stumbled backwards, shielding
his face with his arm. When he looked up he saw that everyone else had had a similar
reaction. They knew they were going to the frozen surface of Antarctica, but they
had thought the elevator would have opened up into the outpost above them. Apparently
it hadn’t.
Stanmore and Glenn were already over the threshold when Blake began moving
towards the elevator portal. The familiar crunch of frozen snow beneath his feet
wasn’t there as he stepped onto the ground outside. Instead, a muffled thud was
faintly heard through the blizzard. Blake glanced down and pushed aside the new
snow with his boot. Beneath it was concrete. Blake glanced up and saw Stanmore
and Glenn’s figures fading away as they walked ahead. Moving his gaze, Blake saw
that they had in fact, entered the outpost ahead of them when the elevator opened.
The outpost just wasn’t there anymore. An all to familiar sight surrounded Blake.
The outpost had been either bombed or burnt for now it looked like a charcoal skeleton…
like Outpost #31 had.
Price tugged on Blake’s arm. Squinting, Blake saw that the others had already moved
on ahead. Price shouted a ‘come on!’ over the roar of the snow storm and headed
after the others. Blake followed.
Stanmore and the others were waiting for them at a doorframe. Blake brushed
past them and went through what was left of the door. Dim lights could be seen
underneath the snow, marking where the road was. Following the lights Blake could
see they led off in two directions: to the left where they quickly disappeared in
the storm and off to the right where floodlights could be seen in the distance,
piercing the snow.
‘That’s the airstrip,’ Lavelle shouted over the wind.
‘It’s fucking cold and that’s a long way off,’ Price shouted back.
‘The sooner we get over there, the sooner we can warm ourselves up,’ Stanmore
shouted at Price, ‘right Blake?’
Clenching his teeth against the cold, Blake nodded. His face felt like it
was being stabbed by thousands of frozen needles. He could see the others felt
the same way. Others brought out scarves to wrap around their faces and if they
had hoods on their jackets, they pulled them up over their heads. Blake pulled
his own hood over his head and yanked the scarf around his neck up over his nose
and mouth. He had goggles but those had been in his pack and he hadn’t seen his
pack since he woke up in Strata. One more thing to hold against Whitley, Blake thought
as he trudged through the snow with the others towards their planned destination.
Chapter 13 – three tickets outta here, please
Surprisingly, it didn’t take that long to reach the airstrip. Well, maybe
Blake’s sense of time had just been thrown out the window. A quick check showed
that icicles of snot had formed on his face. The others were in the same shape,
if not worse. After walking around in an underground furnace, it was hard to become
accustomed to this walk-in freezer. A large 14-foot high chain link fence that
encircled the compound was the only thing keeping them out. It would be no problem
though; the gate had been run down and lay uselessly under the snow beside an abandoned
guardhouse. The group now sat, resting, in that guardhouse. The wind and snow
were pounding at the thin walls; the small building was oddly sparse. Save for
a table and an empty crate, it was empty. Well, perhaps the large blood splatter
on the wall counted as something, but that was beside the point… Wasn’t it?
Stanmore, who was at this point, the healthiest of the group, led a small
recon consisting of himself and Glenn to see what was going on around the airbase.
From where Blake sat at the window, there wasn’t a lot of activity out there. Besides
there being lights on in the airstrip, one open hangar and the air tower, that was
it. The complex was huge, with four large hangars all about the airstrip. Several
other indistinct buildings were scattered around the complex, looming and grey.
Yet most of it was plunged in darkness.
‘I don’t like this,’ Lavelle mumbled from behind Blake.
‘Yeah, and you think we don’t?’ was Price’s annoyed response.
‘Just be thankful you don’t have a hole in your stomach,’ Temple whispered
from the table where he lay.
His condition had worsened since they came here. With blue lips, pale cheeks
and what appeared to be frostbite quickly forming on his digits and around his wound;
Blake feared the worse for Temple. Yet the man held on.
‘We should’ve never come here to begin with,’ Lavelle continued, ‘I was
against chasing Whitley from the start. Now look at us, we’re all freezing, Temple’s
condition is worsening…’
‘Thanks for noticing…’
‘…And Glenn and Stanmore have been gone for more than an hour!’
‘They’ve been gone about forty-five minutes,’ Blake said.
Lavelle was right, Blake thought, Glenn and Stanmore had been gone for more
than an hour. They’d almost been gone two hours. Time passed differently when it
was always dark and you didn’t have a watch though. Lavelle was starting to panic;
Blake had to try something, didn’t he?
‘Bullshit, they’ve been gone forty-five minutes,’ Lavelle scoffed, ‘they’ve
been gone an hour, they’re probably dead. We’ve got to try and go back to the tunnels.
There was medical supplies back there, and heat and water. There’s nothing we can
do for Temple here.’
‘Since when do you care about me?’ Temple said angrily, ‘you’re just using
me as an excuse for us to take you back there.’
‘Besides, we have medical supplies here and we can melt water and build
a fire if we need it,’ Price explained.
‘Then why don’t you?’ Lavelle asked, ‘lookit Temple, he’s worsening. He
need’s warmth!’
‘If we warm him up too fast, he’ll die,’ Blake replied, ‘besides, there’s
nothing to build a fire with in here, unless you want to give us that crate you’ve
been sitting on.’
Apparently Lavelle didn’t, for he stopped talking and sat back down on the
crate. Temple laughed from where he lay.
‘Haha, you bastard!’ he said, ‘what’d I say? You don’t care about anyone
but yourself!’
Lavelle didn’t reply, but the look on his face soured greatly.
‘Leave him alone,’ Price said, to both men.
Blake sighed. He hadn’t turned around once to listen to the conversation.
All the time he’d been looking out the window, talking when he felt it necessary,
just so he made sure he wouldn’t miss anything. It was a good thing too, for Blake
could now see two figures making their way back to the guardhouse.
‘Wake up everyone, we got company,’ Blake warned, ‘two figures, presumably
Glenn and Stanmore but keep your guard up anyways.’
The others complied, quickly moving from their locations to pick up their
armaments and ready themselves. Temple simply sat up from where he lay, pointing
his pistol at the door. Blake and Price waited on either side of the doorway while
Lavelle positioned himself on the opposite side of the room from Temple. A knock
came at the door and the sound of Glenn shouting to be let in. Grasping the handle,
Blake turned it and pulled. Glenn and Stanmore came rushing in, covered in snow
and stumbling around as if they had been dipped in Novocain.
‘What the fuck took so long?’ Lavelle asked immediately.
‘Ease off, Lavelle,’ Blake cut-in.
Stanmore and Glenn were on the floor of the shack, panting and rubbing their
arms for warmth.
‘W-w-Whitley’s already gone,’ were the first words out of Glenn’s mouth.
‘Gone? Then we came here for nothing?’ Lavelle asked exasperated.
‘There’s a plane,’ Stanmore started.
‘Of course, we’re in a fuckin’ airstrip!’ Lavelle shouted back.
‘Sit down, Lavelle,’ Price commanded.
Lavelle flipped Price off and sat back on his crate.
‘As I was saying,’ Stanmore started again, ‘Whitley’s loaded the virus onto
the plane. There are a couple guards watching the entrance to the hangar, that’s
where the plane is. There’s a heckuva lot more guards in the tower. We found out
that they’re planning to take the plane to the mainland and drop the virus in the
rainforests over Brazil.’
‘Why Brazil?’ Blake asked.
‘I dunno,’ Stanmore replied, standing up.
Price shook his head.
‘Think about it, Blake,’ he explained, ‘the rainforest has the largest variety
of life in the planet. Why not start the hostile takeover there, where all the
food is?’
‘Shit’ Blake mumbled.
Price was right. That was the perfect place to start the world takeover.
Who would suspect the cute animals of the rainforest? If they succeeded, there
would be no stopping Whitley’s plan. Blake looked back up at Glenn and Stanmore.
‘Well where’s Whitley now?’
‘That,’ Stanmore replied, ‘is why we took so long.’
--later-Blake and Glenn stood around the corner of the hangar, watching the movements
of the guards. Stanmore had told him Whitley had already moved onto the other Gen/Inc
base, Elysium. Somehow they had managed to sneak close enough to the guards to overhear
their conversation. Now, they wanted to get close enough to incapacitate the guards.
They may be against Gen/Inc at the moment, but Blake wasn’t about to go around killing
everyone in sight. They were, after all, still American soldiers. Possibly someone
he once knew. The idea that the soldiers might be infected didn’t cross Blake’s
mind.
Well, maybe he just didn’t want it to cross his mind.
As the two men watched, on of the guards was suddenly grabbed by a dark
figure and brought to the ground. Lavelle and Price had gone around the other side
of the hangar.
‘Come on,’ Blake said, ‘they got their guard, let’s get ours.’
Glenn nodded and the two men rushed from cover. The other Gen/Inc guard
didn’t see Glenn or Blake; He had just spotted his comrade under attack by two unknown
figures and was reacting to those stimuli instead.
‘Hey fuckers!’ the guard shouted, ‘drop him!’
Lavelle had the other guard in a headlock. Price stood behind him, pointing
his flamethrower and the soldier’s gun at Blake’s guard.
‘Not a good plan, mate,’ Price replied, ‘you’re outnumbered and outclassed.
Drop your weapons.’
Beneath his mask, the guard frowned. The barrel of a gun had been stuck
in his neck. He complied, lifting his hands and dropping his gun.
‘Good, now walk,’ Glenn whispered into the guards ear, jabbing him with
the gun.
Blake and Glenn walked their prisoner over to Lavelle and Price. Their
guard lay in the snow, probably unconscious. Lavelle did have him in a rather tight
headlock.
‘What’re we going to do with them?’ Price asked, while he searched the fallen
guard.
‘I was thinking about bringing them with us,’ Blake replied, ‘we might have
some trouble doing that if their unconscious though.’
‘Bring then along?’ Lavelle shouted, alarmed, ‘the hell are you talking
about? They’ll kill us first chance they get.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Blake replied turning to his prisoner, ‘how many guards
are inside the hangar.’
‘A shit load,’ the guard replied, ‘you’re fucked if you go in there.’
The guard was lying through his teeth. Blake pointed his flamethrower at
the unconscious guard.
‘Alright,’ Blake replied, ‘we’ll light your friend up and let you watch
him burn. Them I’m going to ask you again…’
`Wait, wait,’ the other guard said hastily, ‘I was just bullshitting you
man. Come on, we’re all friends here. Take it easy.’
That was easy, Blake thought, in fact, it was really easy.
‘That was easy,’ Blake said, pushing the guard, ‘what’re you hiding?’
‘Nothing man, seriously!’ the guard whimpered, ‘I just don’t give a shit
what you do, I really don’t. I just don’t want to be here anymore.’
Blake signaled for Lavelle and Price to move the unconscious guard into
the hangar. Glenn went with them and Blake led the other guard in, questioning
him along the way.
‘Uh huh. How come you don’t give a shit anymore, soldier?’ Blake asked.
He no longer cared what this soldier had to say; it was obvious he didn’t want to
fight anymore. He’d probably go AWOL if he had anyplace to go. They were in Antarctica
though; there was no place to go.
‘Heh, you’re from Gen/Inc too, eh?’ the soldier said, noticing Blake’s
insignia on his coat.
‘Answer the question,’ Blake replied blandly, shoving him forward.
‘Hey, you of all people should know,’ the guard replied with a half-grin,
‘Whitley’s gone mad and he’s going to kill us all!’
‘Lucky for you,’ Blake replied, intrigued by the soldier’s audacity, ‘we’re
here to kill Whitley. Consider yourself free of all duty. Is the virus on that
plane?’
‘Kill Whitley, eh?’ the soldier replied, ignoring Blake’s question, ‘hell,
you’re a lifesaver man, but if you think you can take Whitley on you’re sorely mistaken.
He’s not human anymore, I seen it. He’s one of them.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know. Is all the virus on that plane?’
‘Hey,’ the soldier said with dawning recognition, ‘you’re from that bogus
research team Whitley sent in as a cover up!’
‘Uh… yeah, and you’re ass says thanks for the rescue,’ Blake replied, annoyed
at being called ‘bogus.’
‘I’m sorry, man, thanks, but you’re not going to be able to take Whitley
out alone,’ the soldier raved on.
‘Why do you think I’m not alone?’ Blake sighed, ‘now is the virus on that
plane or are there more?’
‘You should let me and my buddy Powell over there join you,’ the soldier
continued, ‘my name’s uh, Reed, by the way.’
‘Pleased to meet you Reed, I’m Blake, now sit down.’
Blake and the others were now by a pile of crates in the hanger. Lavelle
had propped up the man called Powell next to the crate Blake had pushed Reed onto.
‘Seriously, we can get you guys into the base,’ Reed continued, ‘we can
get you into the tower without problems.’
‘And why the hell would we want to trust you?’ Price asked.
‘Why not? What else are you guys gonna do?’ Reed replied, ‘blow up this
plane and hope no one sees you run away?’
‘Uh, yeah, that’s the intended plan.’
‘Oh…’
‘Hey, how do we know you’re not infected?’ Glenn asked.
‘Um, I don’t know. I’m not. You can test me if you want,’ was Reed’s sheepish
reply.
‘Hold on, if you’re working directly for Whitley, how come you’re not
infected?’ Lavelle asked.
‘I could ask the same about you,’ Reed replied.
It was true. Since the beginnig of Blake’s mission, Whitley had been infected;
same for Glenn, Price, Lavelle, Temple and Stanmore. Speaking of Temple and Stanmore,
the two men entered the hangar just then. Stanmore helped Temple walk. It looked
like Temple was going to keel over and die at any moment.
‘Thanks for signaling it was clear, assholes,’ was Stanmore’s joking hello.
‘Ah, fuck off Stanmore,’ Price replied with a laugh, ‘you too Temple.’
‘Hey shut up or I’ll breath on you,’ Temple called back with a dry, cracked
voice, ‘who’re these goons?’
‘Apparently they’re Reed and Powell. A couple of goons under Whitley’s
command.’
‘Hey, not anymore, we’ll follow you now,’ Reed replied.
‘Oh fuck no,’ was Lavelle’s immediate reply.
‘I don’t know,’ Blake mused, ‘I think we can trust them for now.’
‘What’re you talking about, Blake?’ Lavelle argued.
‘Well, it’s not like we have much of a choice,’ Blake replied.
‘He’s got a point, any help we can get we’ll have to take,’ Stanmore agreed,
‘the odds are against us. Help is help.’
Lavelle sighed angrily and walked away, deeper into the hangar. The hangar
was large, but besides the crates they all stood around and the plane, it was empty.
It seemed that Reed and Powell were the only people guarding the plane. Either
Whitley was getting cocky or he didn’t know Blake was after him. He’d know soon
enough. Blake would make sure of that.
‘So… Does that mean I’m on your side now?’ Reed asked tentatively.
‘Yeah sure, whatever gets your freak on,’ Price replied, clapping Reed on
the shoulder.
Reed grinned and shuffled around on the crate. He was obviously excited
to be doing something against Whitley. Blake didn’t know what Whitley had done to
Reed. Actually, he didn’t want to know. Everyone seemed to have their own problems
and Blake was tired of leading single person that followed him. Thankfully, Stanmore
once again stepped up to the leadership position first. He approached Reed and
asked him about the layout of the control tower and the amount of soldiers in there
among other things. As Blake listened, it seemed that Whitley had positioned infected
soldier inside the tower while the uninfected guarded the rest of the hangar. Blake
didn’t see any other soldier on the way in, so they must have run off, taking a
snowmobile or simply running along the various roads to different bases. Anywhere
but here, it seemed. Reed and Powell must not have been that smart (or perhaps
running away was stupid, in this weather anyways). The other man, Powell, seemed
to be waking up. Temple lay beside Powell looking as listless as ever. That was
one of the things that worried Blake: Temple’s health. Though Temple would probably
be one of the few lucky ones to die a natural death. Blake found himself envious
of Temple. Why couldn’t he be sick and dying? Why?
Blake shook the thought out of his head. He had loved ones waiting for
him at home. How could he think such a thing? Blake looked up and saw Glenn looking
past the group. Lavelle had walked around the hangar and was returning to the group.
He still had that annoyed expression on his face though. That was the other thing
that worried Blake. Lavelle was getting increasingly pissed off at everything.
It frightened Blake when he realized he knew absolutely nothing about any of these
people with him. What if they are turned out to be homicidal maniacs? Lavelle
could snap at any moment. Anything was possible.
How long had he known these people anyways? Price and Glenn he’d known
for a couple days now. Maybe three. Stanmore and the others, maybe a day, max.
Reed and Powell, he’d known for five minutes. He truly didn’t know anything or
anybody.
‘You okay?’ Glenn asked.
Blake blinked, startled at Glenn’s sudden appearance.
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Blake replied with a yawn. Damn, he was tired.
‘You look like hell,’ Glenn continued.
‘I feel like hell.’
‘Sleep would do you good.’
‘Now?’
‘I wish. I guess we really can’t sleep can we?’
Blake nodded. Out of all these people, he found himself at ease with Glenn;
young, dumb, naive Glenn. Perhaps the reason he felt so secure was because Glenn
was untainted by the evils that come with age… or perhaps not.
‘Reed says all the virus containers are on that plane,’ Glenn continued.
‘Oh sure, he’ll tell you guys but he wont tell me,’ Blake replied with a
grin.
‘You’re too nice of a guy to get it out of him,’ Glenn grinned, ‘he’s pinned
down by Price, Stanmore AND Lavelle. He doesn’t stand a chance.’
‘No, I guess not.’
Blake watched the others talk.
‘How’s that Powell guy?’ Blake asked.
‘Seems nice enough. Less of a dill weed than Reed, but he seems eager to
help us,’ Glenn replied.
‘That’s good.’
‘Yeah…’
As Blake and Glenn watched, Stanmore clapped his hands together and said,
‘alright!’ He waved for Glenn and Blake to come over and woke up Temple who had
fallen asleep.
‘Okay guys,’ Stanmore began as everyone gathered in close around him, ‘now
that we know what we’re up against, here’s the plan…’
Chapter 14 – those three tickets still up for grabs?
Blake grimaced as he trudged through the snow. So this was the plan. Well,
part of it anyways. Glenn and himself were to help Temple around the back of the
tower. From what Powell and Reed had told them, vehicles were stored in a shed
back there: Snowmobiles, tractors and plows – every vehicular necessity for living
in the Antarctic. So the three of them slowly plodded around the long way, careful
to avoid lights so as no one in the tower would notice them. Blake and Glenn were
basically dragging Temple, whose condition was quickly worsening, through the raging
storm.
Blake wondered how the others were faring. Five lone men versus a horde
of infected soldiers in the tower, even if they did have the element of surprise,
they were hopelessly outclassed. Blake had even given his incendiary weapon to
Stanmore so that they’d have more fire. Of course that left Blake and his group
defenseless. They’d have to rely on luck to make it through.
He supposed he should be counting himself lucky he wasn’t on the offense.
It was hard, though it was true. Stanmore’s group had to somehow work their way
into the basement of the tower, get a hold of one of the rocket propelled
grenade-launchers in there and the blow up the airplane. They couldn’t get into
the plane’s themselves to simply burn up the cargo, but the group had quickly realized
that if they destroyed the landing gear of the plane it wouldn’t be able to take
off. So before they left, they did as much damage to the wheels as possible, shooting
them and cutting tubes and such. The space virus was smart, though. Blake had seen
the wreckage of the space ship they built at that outpost he was originally assigned
to. They would fix the plane, or simply build a new craft to fly the release the
virus containers on the mainland. That would take time though. It would be enough
time for them to blow up the plane and its cargo.
That was the plan.
They had been plodding around in the snow for half-an-hour maybe and were
now within throwing distance of the vehicle shed. The other group would’ve
infiltrated the tower at least fifteen minutes ago. Blake had no idea of how far
they’d gotten. He would just have to wait with Temple and Glenn. The explosion
would be their signal to start moving. Blake just hoped that there actually would
be an explosion and all this wasn’t in vain. He didn’t want to have to go into
the tower himself and try and finish what the others started.
‘Blake, the lock!’ Glenn shouted.
Blake looked up and saw they were standing in front of the building. There
was a heavy padlock on the front door. They weren’t getting in unless they got
rid of the lock.
‘Here, take Temple,’ Blake shouted back letting go of Temple and pulling
out a small handgun.
He hoped the storm would mask the noise. With a squeeze of the trigger
a bullet shot out into the lock, then another and another. Blake spun the gun around
in his hand and swung the butt down hard on the lock. With a crack it snapped open.
Holstering the pistol, Blake pulled off the lock on opened the door. The three
men stepped into the dimly garage.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Temple groaned as Blake closed the door behind them.
‘What is it?’ Blake asked.
‘The garage is fuckin’ empty!’ Glenn replied.
Sure enough, when Blake turned around he saw that the garage was in fact,
empty. Not a single vehicle in there.
‘Bullshit,’ Blake murmured as he walked over to table cluttered in tools
and porno magazines, ‘absolute bullshit.’
‘Looks like everyone… took off,’ Temple wheezed.
Glenn dragged Temple to one of the chairs and propped him up, ‘try and get
some sleep, okay?’
‘Roger, roger,’ Temple replied, closing his eyes.
Glenn sat down on the edge of the table and sighed.
‘Well, now what, Blake?’ he asked.
‘I have no fuckin’ clue,’ and that was the truth.
‘Why don’t you get some sleep? You look like you need it.’
Blake listened and heard Temple snoring. It was a tempting idea.
‘What about you?’ Blake asked.
‘I’ll be fine. I’m young, I can take the late nights,’ Glenn answered with
a grin, ‘you’re old, you need to rest.’
‘Ha, I’m not over the hill yet, but I will take you up on your offer.’
‘Right on.’
Blake moved away from the table over to a corner of the vehicular storage
building. It was rather amazing how sparse everything was at the airbase. Then
again, perhaps the viruses were constructing more horrific machines. Blake found
a flattened, oil-stained cardboard box and used it as a mat to lie down on. Better
than concrete, he supposed. Sleep quickly overtook him when he closed his eyes.
--twenty-nine minutes later—
‘Blake wake up!’ Glenn urged, prodding his sleeping companion.
Blake opened his eyes and saw Glenn peering over him. An odd feeling of
deja vu poured over his tired mind. A distant explosion drew Blake further out of
sleep and into reality.
‘The fuck was that?’ he asked.
‘The rocket launchers,’ Glenn answered, ‘the others made it, but with all
the racket going on, it sounds like they’re firing the rockets from the top of the
control tower!’
‘Why the fuck would they do that?’
‘Maybe they couldn’t make it back down? Maybe they’re trapped up there!’
‘But why would they fire from up there?’ Blake persisted, still missing
the point.
‘Because they have nowhere else to fire,’ Temple mumbled from where he lay,
‘they’re trapped by that virus. They don't have anywhere else to go.’
‘Fuck.’
Blake looked at his boots. Big, black and dull; typical army boots. Chunks
of ice still clung to the bottom and sides of those boots. It seemed to Blake that
they’d be there forever… unless they left.
‘It’s time to go,’ Blake said, standing up.
‘Go where?’ Glenn asked tentatively.
‘Anywhere but here,’ Blake answered, ‘by the sounds of it, the others have
probably nuked that entire hanger down there. Thus we leave.’
‘And leave them too?’ Glenn’s eyes bulged with surprise and confusion, ‘why
don’t we go help them?’
‘Alright Glenn, let’s go help them. We’d die too and then Whitley’d be the
winner. You want that? You want Whitley to win? No, we go now. There’s no hope
for the others, they’re gone and it’s up to us to kill Whitley.’
Glenn just stared back at him and Blake knew he was kidding himself. He
was just running away. The concept seemed so inviting though, leave the immediate
peril and live! He couldn’t believe he was thinking about it.
A sudden explosion in their vicinity shook both men to their knees. The
wall beside the table where Temple was resting blew outwards sending stone, wood,
mortar and Temple barreling across the room. Blake heard Temple shouting obscenities
and cheers from the gaping hole in the wall. Through the clearing smoke came Price,
Reed and Powell; Reed clutched a smoking rocket launcher in his hands and had a
huge shit-eating grin on his face.
‘Woooo!’ he shouted upon making his way over the debris into the vehicle
storage.
A quick glance around and his grin faded, ‘hey uh… where’s are the snowmobiles?’
‘Blake! Glenn!’ Price shouted, stumbling over the debris towards them, ‘you
guys alright?’
‘Fuckin’ alright?’ Temple shouted as he coughed and stood up, trembling
from where he was flung, ‘you bastards almost killed me?’
‘Sorry, it was the only way we could get here,’ Powell explained quickly,
‘the creatures have us boxed in.’
Another explosion came from outside followed by screams… lots of screams.
‘Shit,’ Reed mumbled, his face paling, ‘uh, Powell? I don’t think Stanmore
or Lavelle are right behind us anymore.’
‘You left them behind?’ Blake exclaimed.
Machine gun fire came from somewhere within the hole in the wall… it was
getting closer. Glenn and Price helped Temple back to his feet.
‘I think we should go now,’ Powell said, ‘I mean right now, there’s a huge
ventilation shaft outside this garage, it’s breathing out a load of hot air, you
can’t miss it. The shaft leads to Elysium. If we can get into it quickly, we can
get away before those bastards track us.’
‘Right! Let’s go!’ Glenn shouted as he and Price led Temple to the doorway.
Blake and Powell moved to follow them when the sound of Lavelle’s screams
filled their ears. The two men turned and saw muzzle flashes just on the other
side of the smoking hole. It seemed an entirely different source from inside was
creating a fog. A human figure started to come through the mist. Reed moved forward
just as Lavelle’s fearful face came into clarity. Time seemed to stop though, as
Lavelle’s frantic shriek halted and his gaze of fear turned to one of listless
confusion. Reed reached forward but Lavelle’s figure disappeared into the haze
as he coughed a spray of blackened blood onto Reed’s face.
‘Reed, for fuck’s sake!’ Powell shouted, running towards his friend.
Blake made it to the open doorway and spotted his three companions making
for a shaft that was about twenty meters off in the distance. Powell had been right,
even in this blizzard you couldn’t miss it. The hot air colliding with the cold
air created a rather large trail of haze. Blake was surprised he hadn’t seen it
on his way in, mind you, it was hard to see if you didn’t know what you were looking
for. More shouts drew Blake’s attention back into the room. He watched with dreadful
fascination as Powell pushed Reed into motion. Reed snapped out of whatever daze
he was in to avoid a mass of skinny translucent tentacles which shot out from the
mist. Instead, the creeping organic vines grabbed Powell. As the screaming Gen/Inc
guard was pulled back into the darkness flailing, Reed came rushing towards Blake.
‘Fucking move it, man!’ Reed shouted.
Blake did just that. He turned on his heels and began running a slow motion
sprint through the snow towards the ventilation shaft. Reed was right on his heels
as the two men covered the short expanse of land between the garage and the shaft.
Blake saw that the grate covering the shaft had already been shot off. Price held
his hands out and was easing Glenn into the shaft. Temple kneeled at the side, waiting
to be dropped in.
‘Come on!’ Price shouted as he waved his arms at the running men.
Blake gazed on at Price, he was only a second or two away, but Price’s horrified
expression compelled Blake to glance back.
One of the creatures, looking like a humanoid gorilla dragging a corpse behind it,
stepped out of the doorway and gazed at them. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl
once again. It was a feeling Blake was becoming more and more familiar with, and
as novel as it was, he hated it. As if it were a living gelatin, the creature’s
upper body morphed and took on Stanmore’s form. The corpse being dragged behind
it sat up and Blake was mortified as ‘Powell’ tossed his rifle up to ‘Stanmore’s’
waiting hands. The ‘human’ clasped the gun, took aim and fired at the running men.
Suddenly time returned to normal speed.
Chapter 15 – take me to Elysium, the place where heroes rest
Blake grunted in mute pain as the bullet cut through his flesh. He tumbled
forward into the snow, feeling the lead lodged in his body. Next to him Reed also
fell, blood coughing from his throat and onto the clean snow. Blake pushed himself
up and stood awkwardly; the bullet in his lower left leg complained as he moved.
A quick glance at Reed coughing and sputtering on the ground revealed he was gone.
Holes smoked from his back and a crimson fountain seemed to spray from his neck:
punctured jugular vein.
‘I’m okay… I’m okay,’ Reed coughed out the phlegm laden words as Blake hobbled
onwards.
He reached the vent just as Price eased Temple into it.
‘For the love of God, Blake, hurry up!’ Price screamed over the winds waving
his arms, ‘the bastards reloading!’
Blake didn’t look behind this time. Instead he jumped past Price and dived
into the vent. He fell a short distance before landing painfully on his shoulders.
The vents were huge, and lighted with dim red safety lights. Blake pulled himself
out of the way as Price came tumbling into the vents after them.
‘Come on go!’ Price urged.
‘Someone help me with Temple,’ Glenn pleaded.
Blake let Price go past him as he examined his wound. The bullet missed the
bone and had gone straight through the flesh of his lower leg. It hurt, but as
long as he kept it clean he’d have a full recovery. As Price and Glenn helped Temple
sit up, Blake tore a strip off his undershirt and bound it around his injury.
‘Temple, this is no time to be sleeping,’ Price whispered urgently.
‘Uh, Price? Temple’s not sleeping,’ Glenn said as he took Temple’s pulse,
‘Temple’s dead.’
‘Shit, did he get shot?’
‘I think he just died of hypothermia. He wasn’t doing all that well when we
found him…’
‘Man…’
A thumping noise from the surface spurred the three remaining men into motion.
They clamored over Temple’s body and further down the shaft. Price stopped and
let the other two go past him. If there were going to escape with their lives,
they’d need a deterrent to persuade the creatures to stay behind. Grasping his
torch, Price squeezed the trigger and let a stream of fire turn Temple into a burning
pyre. He then turned and ran off with the others.
Down the dark, dry shafts, seeing only with the red pilot lights that appeared
in intervals down the metal corridor. The men stopped to rest only once during
their travel of the ventilation ducts. It was only a matter of hours till they reached
the end of the shaft. Perhaps Elysium wasn’t as far away as they thought.
At the end of the shaft they could see light, lots of light. Glenn rushed
ahead and was startled by what he saw: An immense crystal cavern glittering in the
hundreds of floodlights that lined the walls.
‘Sweet mother of pearl,’ Price muttered as he pulled himself out of the vent
and onto the rocky floor, ‘it’s beautiful.’
‘It’s like being inside of a giant geode,’ Glenn mumbled.
Blake stumbled out of the shaft after them and kneeled down on the ground.
He’d have to change his bloody bandages. Perhaps Glenn still has some equipment
in his backpack he could use. Oddly enough, his leg wound didn't seem to be bothering
him anymore. Shock, perhaps?
‘Hey Glenn, could you give me a hand with this?’ Blake asked, grimacing as
he rolled up his pant leg and removed the grimy shirt from his wound. The wound
had stopped bleeding but was still rather gooey.
‘Yeah, sure Blake,’ Glenn replied, slinging off his pack and going to his
aid.
‘I’m gonna go look around,’ Price called to the two men as he wandered off.
‘Roger,’ Glenn called back, ‘be careful!’
Price nodded and walked further down the corridor of crystals. The complexity
of the geodes was simply astonishing. Price was no gem-expert but he was willing
to bet that these crystals were undiscovered, a new specimen that could only be
found underneath the ice and stone of Antarctica. The glare from the floodlights
made Price realize that they had already been discovered; mankind had already tainted
them. Well, perhaps the creatures had been the ones who built this tunnel? Maybe
that retrovirus from space was to blame this time? Price grinned and shook his head
as he turned the corner. Standing across the way at the back of the crystal cavern
was a dull grey building. It stood out in stark contrast with the glowing crystals
and bright floodlights of the cavern. What was even more interesting were the large
blood smears on the side of the small building. Price approached the building slowly.
The door was ajar and laboured breathing resonated from within.
‘Hello?’ Price asked, easing the door open.
Inside it looked like a tornado had torn through the small building. A table
lay smashed in one corner and papers were strewn all about. A shelf was leaning
precariously on one side, its contents spilt out onto the floor. Parallel to the
doorway Price stood in was another door. The breathing came from a man lying in
a pool of his own blood. He wore white medic overalls that were dirtied by his
own blood; the Red Cross hidden by the red of the blood. The man glanced over at
Price and closed his eyes. In his hands he clutched a medical kit (which now was
probably useless, seeing as how the man was bleeding all over it).
‘Hey man, are you alright?’ Price asked, kneeling beside him.
‘F... fuckin’ beautiful,’ the man whispered painfully.
Price couldn’t tell where he was wounded, blood was everywhere. The nametag
on the man’s left breast read, ‘Cohen.’
‘Hang on, buddy, you’re gonna be alright,’ Price said, pulling the med-kit
away from the man and opening it.
‘Pff-hahaa!’ the man laughed a bloody laugh, ‘look buddy... I’m a medic, and...
an... I’m fuckin’ dead.’
Price frowned at the man’s bluntness.
‘Fucking... game... scripting...’ he muttered lying his head back in the pool
of blood.
‘What?’ Price asked.
The man was slipping into delirium. He’d be dead soon. Footsteps from behind
called to Price’s attention. Blake and Glenn stood in the doorway watching. A
bloody hand grabbed Price’s arm. Price glanced back and saw the man named ‘Cohen’
staring into him with bloodshot eyes.
‘Ryans has gone crazy,’ he said with a surprisingly strong voice, ‘kill him
like he killed me. Kill him before he kills you. Kill him like he... killed...
m...’
With that, ‘Cohen’ lay back down, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
‘He’s dead,’ Blake said. It wasn’t a question.
‘Yes,’ Price replied, standing up.
‘Shall we continue?’ this time it was a question.
‘Yes.’
The three men stepped over the body and proceeded to the doorway. They opened
it and stood back. Peering down, they saw a stairwell leading down a tight hallway,
deeper into the ground.
‘Anyone getting déjà vu right now?’ Glenn asked.
‘Yeah, It’s like Strata all over again,’ Blake replied.
‘Well, no guts not glory,’ Price said, starting down the stairwell. The others
quickly followed.
At the bottom of the stairwell was another door. It opened with a push. The
trio walked out onto a catwalk and peered over the railing. They were standing
100 feet above the abyss. They were in a huge underground shaft that seemed to
go down to the center of the earth. It was quiet. There was no movement along
the catwalks; the catwalks spun around, down and down to the bottom of the shaft.
A huge pillar stood in the center, glowing and occasionally belching sparks from
its many circuits.
‘Holy shit,’ Blake whistled, ‘this just keeps getting better.’
‘It’s like a huge power core!’ Glenn mumbled.
‘But for what?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe the space virus built it?’ Price suggested.
‘Possibly. Whitley’s been up to a lot lately,’ Blake replied.
‘Well, we going down or what?’ Glenn asked.
‘Sure,’ Blake answered, ‘Welcome to Elysium, the place where heroes rest...’
The group set off down the winding catwalks, deeper into the base. The route
to the bottom was mostly empty. Occasionally they’d come by a crate or a bloodstain
or bullet holes, but for the most part the journey was devoid of anything, save
for the abyss and that pillar. Eventually, the catwalks just ended. The pillar
seemed to go down deeper forever, but the catwalks wouldn’t go that deep. At the
‘end,’ there was a lone door that lay ajar. The three men cautiously advanced through
it and came into a short hallway. Voices could be heard through the door at the
other end of the hallway.
Slowly, the group approached the door and leaned their heads against it,
listening intently. It sounded like two men arguing.
‘Get back here, I’m not finished with you!’ said one voice.
‘What do you want now?’ a deeper, calmer voice.
‘For you to answer my question.’
‘What question?’
‘Stop fucking around and answer it!’
‘What question?’ the deep voice asked again, his voice was maddeningly calm.
‘Where the fuck is Cohen!’ the other voice shouted.
Price and Blake glanced at each other. The dead man they just ran into was
named Cohen. He had warned them of a man named Ryans. Price shook his head in the
direction of the door and nodded, understanding.
One of those men might be Ryans.
‘I sent him to go get supplies,’ the calm, deep voice answered, waving off
the question as if it were trivial.
‘You sent him up alone?’ the other voice sounded shocked, appalled even, ‘have
you lost your mind, man? Don’t you know what’s going on?’
‘Yes I do, Stolls,’ the deep voice replied, ‘but the question is, do you?’
There was a clicking sound; a gun being cocked.
‘What the fuck?’ Stolls exclaimed, ‘what the hell are you doing?’
There was another clicking sound.
‘What are you going to do, Stolls? Shoot me?’
‘Fuck you, Ryans, you know I will.’
So it was Ryans.
Price grabbed Blake’s arm.
‘Blake,’ he whispered, ‘we have to do something! That Ryans guy is going
around murdering people. We can save that man in there!’
‘Stolls?’ Glenn asked.
‘Yes!!’
Blake simply nodded and stood up, clutching his pistol. Price grabbed
the handle of the door. He turned the knob slowly until it was unlatched. Then
he threw the door open and stepped through.
‘Hold on fuck-n...’ Price began.
His words were cut-off in mid-sentence. Ryans stood maybe eight feet
away from the door, as his hands shot out snaking tendrils. They shot into Price’s
throat, ending his sentence. With a quick jerk of ‘his’ arm, Ryans brought Price
flying towards him, where his arm split open like a Venus flytrap and clamped down
on the flailing figure. Blake had never seen a Cloud work so fast. Must be that
new B4 Strain Whitley had in circulation. If this was what humanity had to put
up with, they were fucked. Blake grinned to himself. Price was a dead man. Well,
not so much dead as infected. He wouldn’t really be alive anymore, would he? Only
half alive...
Glenn ran past Blake and picked up the flame unit that Price had dropped.
Gunshots came from a screaming corner of the room. Blake guessed the screaming
corner was Stolls and the gunshots were from his gun. It was at that moment that
Blake realized he was in a daze. Haha! He must be suffering from some sort of crazy
psychological disease or something. This had happened before: at the airstrip,
the tunnels... the submarine?
Blake blinked and things came into focus again. Glenn was in his face shouting
at him.
‘Blake? Are you alright, Blake?’ Glenn asked.
‘Yeah, yeah!’ Blake replied, pushing Glenn away and sitting down, ‘what the
fuck just happened.’
‘I dunno, man,’ Glenn sounded scared, ‘Price is dead and you just froze up.
You had this real fucked up look in your eyes.’
Blake rubbed his temples; he couldn’t remember the past five minutes. He
glanced up through the doorway and saw a burning pile of bodies. He guessed it
was Price and that alien. What about...
‘Stolls?’ Blake asked.
‘What?’ Glenn asked, turning back to Blake.
‘Where’s that guy that Price wanted to save?’ Blake pressed, ‘Stolls, I think
his name was.’
‘Oh yeah... yeah... uh, he uh...’ Glenn stammered pointing through the doorway,
‘he-uh he-uh he-uh shot himself, man. He was screaming and shooting at that Ryans
guy thing and then turned the gun on himself. Blam! A bullet right through the
skull... You wanna look?’
‘No I don’t want to look,’ Blake replied standing up, ‘take it easy Glenn,
calm down.’
Glenn was sweating and running his hands through his hair constantly. He
was obviously taken aback that Price was dead.
‘Come on, you’ve seen people die before,’ Blake said, trying to calm him.
‘Yeah I know, but Price was my friend!’ Glenn replied, looking straight into
Blake’s eyes.
Blake looked right back. He found he had nothing to say. What could he say
to a man who just lost one of his best friends? Blake himself had only known Price
and Glenn each for a couple of days. What did it matter to him if any of them died?
It wasn’t like they had shared important memories together. They had survived this
hellhole together, that was all they hey done.
They had survived together.
Blake looked into Glenn’s eyes and realized he didn’t have to say anything.
He had to get Glenn out alive. Glenn was younger than Blake; he was easily only
22 or so, maybe as old as 25. Blake was in his early thirties and had a wife. Sure
they didn’t have any children, not that it was for lack of trying, but Blake knew
he had led a full enough life. Glenn still had a long way to go. Blake looked back
into Glenn’s eyes.
He stepped forward and embraced Glenn and Glenn returned the gesture.
‘Man, I’m fucking sick of this shit,’ Glenn whimpered, he was holding back
tears.
‘I know, buddy, I know,’ Blake replied, patting his back.
‘I just want to get out of here an, an, and Price was like my best fucking
friend down here,’ Glenn’s voice was becoming more shaky with each word.
‘I know, man, and I’m gonna get you the fuck out of here,’ Blake replied.
A single tear fell down his cheek. Why the fuck was he going to put his life
on the line to save this kid who was in his twenties when he himself was only thirty-one?
What would his wife say? Blake pulled back and looked at Glenn.
‘It’s time to go save the world.’
Chapter 16 – all would be put to a right
Blake and Glenn walked through Elysium. The underground research facility
was not unlike Strata base, which they had both traversed the previous day. It
was filled with genetics equipment, fake plastic trees, and computers with confusing
information and diary logs of the Cloud infestation. They had no use for any of
it as they walked down the silent and empty hallways. The base was oddly empty since
they had run into the small group of survivors that were now all dead. As they walked,
they came through an odd assortment of rooms that disturbed Blake greatly. He was
glad he never worked in Elysium. Judging from the things he saw, strange things
went on down here. One room the encountered seemed to have a large gassing chamber
in it. There were no bodies or blood, but deep scratch marks, from fingernails,
it seemed, lined the plastic walls of the chamber. Another room had a large dissecting
table and several formaldehyde filled glass tubes lined along the walls. Each tube
contained a different human body part. A very disturbing sight indeed. Both men
decided to take a break at a shooting range that was located deep in the base. Seems
that as well as a sick experiments, Whitley was training several troops of Gen/Inc
soldiers down here.
Both men sat down on a metal table that ran alongside the shooting range.
Blake stared down at the targets at the end of the range. Not one had a single
bullet fired into them.
‘Think we’re almost at the surface?’ Glenn asked.
Blake smiled. Glenn was calmer right now. He'd accepted the fact that his
friend had died and that they had to move on. Whitley needed to be stopped, and
unlike most of the people Blake had traveled with, Glenn knew that stopping him
was of the utmost importance.
‘Glenn, we’re probably a hundred meters under the ground,’ Blake replied
glancing up at the roof.
‘Well I know that,’ Glenn nodded, ‘but do you think we’re near an exit? Like
an elevator or something?’
Blake just nodded, the smile fading from his face.
‘When we stop Whitley, then what?’ Glenn asked.
‘I guess we win.’
‘But, what about all those other Cloud? With Whitley dead, that doesn’t mean
they’ll just shrivel up and die, does it?’
Blake closed his eyes. Yes, they were fighting a futile battle.
‘Exactly, but Whitley’s trying to ship them all off the floating block of
ice,’ Blake replied, ‘and stopping him is about the only thing the two of us can
do. We’ll have to leave the rest to people who can handle the job. The army or something.’
‘Yeah...’
Glenn trailed off and left the conversation at that. Blake’s reasons were
flimsy and Blake knew it. They both realized that neither of them was probably
going to make it out alive. They had chased something that wasn’t quite a man anymore
over miles of frozen ground only to find themselves lost inside a dead research
facility over a hundred feet under the ground.
It wasn’t a very promising situation.
In Blake’s mind, he felt like just keeling over and giving in to the forces
that fought against him. By going on this whole ‘save-the-world’ adventure, Blake
was slowly killing himself. His entire body ached from all the traveling, terror
and fighting. He found, not surprisingly, that his body trembled uncontrollably
when he was at rest. His mind felt the same: like a helpless trembling mass of
grey working on its last leg. Blake felt like crying. He also felt like dying.
Then again, his wife was still at home. They hadn’t had a child yet, it was
something that both wanted very bad, but something neither had been able to accomplish
with their busy schedule. With her going back to school and him, well, chasing
a crazed quasi-man across Antarctica, they never had time for such things. It was
something Blake would have to remedy when he returned home. He would press on with
Glenn, defeat Whitley and find some way to return home.
All would be put to a right.
Time seemed to be slipping for Blake. He didn’t know whether or not the jumble
of blurred vision and thoughts that had been visiting him recently meant he was
finally catching up with Williams, that he was finally going insane. He hoped not.
His wife wouldn’t like that. Glenn probably wouldn’t like traveling with him anymore,
either. Strange feelings ran over Blake: extreme fatigue and nausea. Oddly enough
though, they were coupled with an odd feeling of euphoria.
Yup, Blake thought to himself, I’ve gone off the deep end.
Blake glanced over at Glenn. He planned to tell his comrade that he was going
to sleep. The only problem was, Glenn wasn’t there anymore. Blake’s confused frown
turned into a mask of surprise when he saw red tentacles waving lazily in front
of his face. They seemed to leave shadows of themselves as they rocked back in forth,
an effect of Blake’s current condition. Something was definitely mentaly wrong
him and he realized it was affecting his awareness. Blake, moving surprisingly
quickly compared to how he felt, leaned forward and pushed himself off of the table.
His heart seemed to beat from within his throat, and he could hear his breathing
from all sides as he ran through the shooting range. The slithering sound of the
creature seemed to engulf all of his sense as he shot away as fast as his feet would
carry him.
Up ahead was a doorway, rocking back and forth on the teeter-totter that had
now become the world for Blake. He stepped through the portal and into a lazy rocking
hallway. Blake was amazed he kept his balance as he ran, though in the back of
his mind he knew the real world wasn’t actually rocking. Images of red rooms and
glittering buttons, dull grey walls and glass tubes flashed through his mind as
he ran past open doorways.
The sound was fading away. Every sound seemed to fade, instead replaced with
a new sound. It was Whitley. He was talking, but quietly. Low enough so that Blake
couldn’t hear what he was saying. Blake saw a light at the end of the hallway and
heard a low ‘shhh’ sound. It sounded like Whitley.
Blake ran through the doorway.
CLANG!!
Blake ran head first into something metal. His vision cleared immediately,
the slow motion blur in his mind and physical body was gone, and apparently, so
was the creature behind him.
‘What the fuck?’ an all too familiar voice asked.
Blake glanced up and saw Whitley. Whitley looked especially hellish through
the screen of red blood that was now seeping into Blake’s vision.
‘What in hell are you doing here, Blake?’ Whitley continued, stepping backwards
into a large elevator that was on the adjacent wall.
Two tall, frightening figures were with Whitley: Gen/Inc marines, fully clothed
in arctic fatigues, wearing bug-eyed gas masks and holding nasty looking machine
guns. They stepped in front of Whitley to protect him. Before they were able to
this, Blake spotted something metallic and shiny in Whitley’s hand. It was that
cursed tranquilizer gun that he had shot Blake with earlier. The one he had used
to drug him with Enphometaphine, whatever that was.
‘Shoot him!’ Whitley shouted as the doors of the elevator began to close.
Before they did, the men fired. Blake screamed and dove to the floor. Gunfire
flew everywhere; bullets ricocheted past Blake’s ears as he fell. Blake hit the
ground hard just as the elevator doors closed and the gunfire stopped. Eyes closed,
Blake moved each limb gingerly.
No Pain
Slowly, Blake got up on his knees and looked down. There was no blood pouring
out of his body onto the floor. No pain, no injury. He was fine. There were blood
splatters on the wall behind him, but it couldn't be his. No, he was still alive.
Somehow the bullets had missed him. The blood from hid head wound was still clouding
his vision. Grinning, Blake wiped it away. He couldn’t believe he was still alive.
More importantly, Whitley was nearby.
Standing up, Blake examined the elevator door. Nothing special; must be a
supply elevator to the surface. Blake stared at the metal doors; its shiny surface
reflected a blurred image of himself. He stepped forward and looked at the button
controls next to the door. The electronic number told him that the elevator was
at the surface. Blake numbly pressed the ‘Call’ button. The electronic number
didn’t change. Whitley had the car parked at the surface. Blake then pressed the
door open button. The metal doors slid open and revealed a dark shaft. Uneasily,
Blake peered down the shaft. He couldn’t see the bottom. Like the shaft Price,
Glenn and himself had seen coming down; it seemed to go ever on. Blake glanced
up; surprised, he saw natural light pouring in a ways up.
The maintenance ladder, just like in the fuckin’ movie, Blake thought.
The ladder was to the left of the door. Blake was easily able to reach over
and grab hold of it. It was a ways up, but Blake new he could make it to the top
in a synch.
And thus he climbed.
---halfway up the elevator shaft--The climb was extremely uneventful until Blake was about halfway to the top.
The elevator car began moving down. Blake watched solemnly as it came down towards
him. As it came past him, he clutched close to the ladder so it wouldn’t catch him
and drag him down to his death. The car eventually stopped at about the same distance
below Blake, as it had been when it first started moving down from above. They
had gone back to whatever floor he was on to see if they'd killed him.
Blake grinned and continued climbing.
He was almost at the top when the elevator began moving up again. Blake stopped
again. This time when it came past him though, Blake held out his feet so it would
take him up. Slowly, as not to make any noise, Blake lay down on the roof of the
car. He could hear people talking inside. There weren’t many. In fact, when Blake
peered through the grate on the roof, he only saw two soldiers. The others must
still be looking; these two have probably gone back up to bring Whitley the report.
Blake stood up again, drawing his pistol, the last weapon he had, out of its
place in his jacket. With a quick hop, Blake’s body came up and onto the small metal
grate. It snapped immediately and Blake fell through, landing on the first Gen/Inc
soldier. Blake found himself sitting on the soldier, and looking up at the shocked
face of the other (both men had taken off their gas masks). The man dropped his
hands towards his sidearm but Blake fired first. Two shots: One in the neck and
one in the left cheek. Blake was glad he didn’t know this man’s story. He slumped
to the ground, made a gurgling noise and died. At the same time, the body beneath
Blake began to stir. Without blinking, Blake pointed the gun down at the figure
he was sitting on and fired three times, each into the man’s back.
Blake then clicked the safety on his pistol and stood up. No use getting Whitley’s
cronie’s blood all over himself. Shoving the pistol into his jacket (twelve shots
in a clip, I fired five, that means I have seven rounds left, Blake thought) Blake
kicked the body, rolling it over onto his back. Blake’s mouth dropped agape when
he saw who he had shot.
It was North.
The big black man’s mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. Blake had
completely forgotten about the rest of his squad. He vaguely remembered telling
North and Burrows to return to base while Weldon and himself continued on. It seemed
like that had happened so long ago. Now, one half of Beta team sat in an elevator
car headed up.
‘Blake?’ North managed.
‘North, I, I’m sorry,’ was Blake’s quiet reply.
North looked at Blake, then at the elevator ceiling, then his eyes glazed
over and became unfocused. Blake frowned. He hated Whitley even more now. The
old bastard would pay for this.
Blake glanced at the number on the button console. He would be at the surface
in 3, 2, 1...
Ding.
Chapter 17 – something scary happens at the end of this chapter
The doors slid open and Blake was treated to the aftermath of a massacre.
He was inside a small warehouse of sorts. There were no rooms or anything, just
boxes and machinery stacked endlessly along the walls and on the floor. Not that
there was much space on the floor, there were seemingly hundreds of bodies lying
on the ground.
Blake stood, awed by the sheer enormity of death around him. Dim fluorescent
lights hummed above and illuminated the pools of blood and masked bodies of the
Gen/Inc soldiers. One of the stains crept closer to Blake and pooled around his
boots. Disgusted, Blake stepped back into the elevator. For whatever reason,
Whitley had been using human soldiers to follow through with his plans. And now,
for whatever reason, they were all lying dead in this warehouse above the Elysium
base. They had all been recently killed too, within the past couple minutes or
so.
Blake had no wish to examine the bodies. As far as he could tell they weren’t
dead because of gunshot wounds. No, the wounds looked like a jagged blade had cut
them open. That was as far as Blake would care to think.
At the far end of the warehouse, Blake spotted a thin line of light shining
in. It was a door that had been conveniently left open. Blake slowly made his way
towards the door, carefully stepping over each body. The entire floor seemed to
be covered in blood. Blake found it hard to avoid stepping in it. A couple times
he slipped and nearly fell over. The thought made him shudder.
Blake had nearly made it to the doorway when he spotted a rather useful looking
tool on a table. It was one of those easy-to-carry, easy-to-use portable
flamethrowers. All Blake had to kill Whitley was a half-empty pistol. Since Whitley
was infected with the virus, the pistol wouldn’t do much anyways. Glancing at the
doorway, Blake started towards the table. He took two steps when he slipped in
a pool of blood and was sent sprawling forwards. His head smashed into the sharp
edge of the table and his neck snapped back sharply. With a thud, Blake hit the
ground shouting in pain. It was the second time he had cracked his head open in
the past fifteen minutes. Blood poured down his face as Blake held his hand to the
wound. He vaguely realized he was lying in another man’s blood. Half the blood
on his face wasn’t even his. Blake held still, not moving. The pain slowly subsided
and the wound stopped bleeding. Slowly, taking painstaking care, Blake got to his
knees, and using the table as leverage, stood up again.
‘The things I do,’ Blake muttered.
Wiping the blood off his face (a futile attempt, for his sleeve was now covered
in the blood of many), Blake grabbed the weapon. He strapped it around his body
then grabbed a fuel canister and screwed it into the gun. Adjusting the gun into
a comfortable position, Blake began, slowly, very slowly, working his way back towards
the slightly ajar door.
He finally reached the door and pushed pulled it open. The storm had died
down. Whatever blizzard there had once been, it was now gone. The sun was shining
and the snow was brilliant in the daytime. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Blake looked over his surroundings. He seemed to be in some kind of huge snow
trench. The walls were about three meters high and looked rather forboding. They
didn't look like they were going to cave in anytime soon. The snow walls were nearly
ice. Storing this fact away in his mind, Blake started down the trench. It didn't
take long to reach the exit. The trench ended abrubtly and gave way to a vast Antarctic
plain. In the middle of that plain lay a massive snow-encrusted glass dome. Beyond
the dome, there appeared to be a massive sinkhole, surrounded by cranes and other
machinery.
Here I am, Whitley, at your precious dome, Blake thought.
Blake started towards the Dome, but caught sight of fresh footprints in the
snow. These were headed towards the excavation pit. With a shrug, Blake switched
directions. As he walked, he noticed that his ears seemed to be ringing slightly.
He stuck his finger in one ear and swirled it around to no effect. Oh well, he continued
anyways. Blake reached the edge of the pit and looked in. What he saw made him
take a couple steps backwards.
It was a god-damned UFO!
This one was vastly enormous compared to the one Blake had seen back at that
Oupost. How long ago had that been? This UFO was buried in what seemed to be two
hundred feet of ice and was at least a half-mile long. Blake's gawking was interupted
when he spotted a dark figure running across the UFO. It was Whitley. Blake looked
left and right and spotted a staircase carved into the ice. He rushed over to it
and began running down. The frozen steps had metal spikes inlayed into them to
prevent workers from slipping to their deaths but he still had a hard time keeping
his balance as he rushed down the steps. He reached the bottom step and hopped
off onto the interstellar ship. The metal was oddly springy and seemed to give
off a dull heat when Blake came in contact with it. There was no time to worry
about that now, Whitley was getting away. He broke out into a sprint towards Whitley.
The old man was slowing to stop as he reached the center of the ship but Blake still
ran. He ran until he was within talking range of the old man and halted his pace
to a walk.
'Whitley!' Blake shouted, breathing heavily, 'Whitley get back here.'
'I'm not going anywhere, Blake,' was Whitley's reply.
'I'm, I'm not done with you.'
'I said, I'm not going anywhere. That blood on you, Blake, it's very becoming,'
Whitley said with a sardonic grin.
Blake came within firing range of Whitley and stopped. They were at the very
center of the space ship and that damned humming in Blake's ears was still there,
if not louder.
'It's over, you're mine,' Blake rasped, 'everything you've strived to
accomplish, I'm destroying right here. Your little game is over.'
Whitley laughed at this. A cruel inhuman laugh (not surprising).
'Oh, I really don't think so,' Whitley replied calmly, 'I control you Blake,
or didn't you know that? Yes, I've been commanding you for quite sometime. In
fact, I've been controlling every single god-damned man on this frozen piece of
shit for a continent. You and your friend's pathetic sabotage attempt of the cargo
plane was only delaying the inevitable. Too bad, huh? They all died for nothing.
Now, only you remain.'
Blake clenched his teeth and tightened the grip on his flamethrower.
'There's no point in playing with that useless hulk,' Whitley said, motioning
to the flamethrower, 'I'm immune to fire. You of all people should know that.'
'Anything can burn, Whitley, you just gotta give it a little time,' Blake
answered, grimacing.
'Right,' Whitley replied, waving his hand dismissively, 'anyways, Ihave an
evac team en route to pick me up at this location. Once I take that chopper, i
shall begin global infection. Ah, speak of the devil. You hear that Blake? There's
my ride.'
Blake listened, all he heard was that damned ringing getting louder... Wait,
that wasn't his ears, it was a helicopter. Blake looked in dismay at a lone helicopter
in the distance coming towards them.
'Game over?' Whitley laughed, 'this game is just beginning.'
At this, Blake screamed and jumped forward. Whitley's smiled vanished from
his face just as the but of Blake's flamethrower smashed into it. Blood sprayed
from Whitley's mouth and nose as he stumbled backwards. Blake swung again, this
time bringing the nozzle end of the torch into Whitley's head. With a grunt, he
went spiralling to the ground.
'Good-bye, Whitley,' Blake said, taking a few steps backwards, 'I always used
to like you... but...'
Blake depressed the trigger on the flamethrower. Whitley was instantly
enveloped in searing flames. Blake held onto the trigger for two seconds longer
then let go. There was no screaming. It seemed Whitley had died without a fight.
Blake glanced up at the helicopter. It was now hovering overhead. Blake noticed
that the chopper wasn't a Gen/Inc model. Hope rose up from inside the pit of his
stomach.
'Hey! Hey, down here!' Blake began shouting as he waved his hands and ran
towards the chopper.
Yes! The man had seen him and was waving back. The figure driving the helicopter,
who seemed to be wearing a funny cowboy hat, turned the chopper towards Blake and
began lowering it. Blake was all smiles until a voice erupted in laughter behind
him.
'Ahahahaa! What'd I tell you, Blake?' it was Whitley, 'I'm immune.'
Blake whirled around and saw Whitley standing with his arms outstretched and
his head facing the sky as if he were nailed to an invisible crucifix.
If he were nailed to a crucifix, it'd be burning, Blake thought vaguely.
'All your pitiful fighting is for nothing!' Whitley shouted in a shrill voice
that wasn't his, 'and now my pick-up has arrived, ahahahaaa!'
'You're wrong, Whitley,' Blake shouted back, 'that ain't your pick-up.'
The helicopter had landed and now seemed to be in neutral, for the pilot moved
out of the driver's seat and to the back where a heavy machine gun was located.
Whitley stopped laughing and lowered his head. The man waved for Blake to get out
of the way. Blake dove to the ground and the world was suddenly torn apart by the
sound of death. The machine gun shouted over top of the whirring of the rotors
and the screams of Whitley, making itself the loudest entity in the excavation pit.
Its insults cut through Whitley's burning flesh and sent him sprawling backwards.
Blake watched in horror as Whitley began to morph. His arms began bulging
outwards and sprays of blood shot out from his fingertips as his hands changed into
gigantic claws. His legs seemed to become fleshy treetrunks and they burrowed into
the metal of the UFO with a low metallic grunt. Bones crunched, as his ribcage
shot out of his chest and began expanding, causing his body to balloon to twice
the size. Through all of this, Whitley's head reamained constant, screaming in
anger at the newcomer and Blake. Burning tentacles rose from his blackened shoulders
and snaked towards Blake. The man in the helicopter had stopped firing and was
returning to the cockpit. He obviously meant to take off. Dropping his weapon,
Blake bolted to the helicopter and dove into the open side door while it was no
more than a foot off the ground.
'Hold on!' the pilot shouted as the helicopter began to lift of.
Blake did just that. He clutched onto the helicopter door until the screams
of Whitley were far enough away to be drowned out by the spinning of the rotors.
Then, Blake pulled himself up into a sitting stance and looked up. Whitley was
still growing. He seemed to be drawing some unseen power from that UFO. That's
it! That giant UFO was the source off this alien virus! A shudder ran down Blake's
spine: to think that mankind tried to manufacture the virus as a weapon and a medical
miracle.
'Hey! Hey, you still with me?' a rough voice called from the front of the
chopper.
Blake turned to look at the man. The hat he wore wasn't a cowboy hat. No,
it was just an odd brimmed hat. Most of the man's face was covered by a full brown
beard and sunglasses, but Blake could tell he was young.
'Yeah, I'm here, thanks for the lift,' Blake replied.
'No problem, the name's MacReady,' the man answered and held back one hand.
'Blake, call me Blake,' he replied as he took the hand, that name seemed oddly
familiar.
'Great. So how're we going to kill that fucking thing?' MacReady asked.
Blake didn't reply immediately. He was peering out of the helicopter at the
cranes surrounding the space ship. They were huge. Tall enough to cover three quarters
of the ship if they fell (but I only need them to fall halfway). Blake saw that
there were huge caches of fuel drums around each cranes so that they'd be easy to
refuel.
Haha, all we have to do is shoot the drums! Blake thought to himself.
'Hey buddy? You alright?' MacReady asked after Blake didn't answer him right
away.
'Yeah, I got an idea. Take me in close to those cranes. If I can shoot out
the drums, then maybe the cranes'll just happen to land on our funny friend down
there,' Blake replied.
MacReady saw what Blake was talking about.
'No problem,' he replied and swung the helicopter towards the nearest crane.
Outside, Whitley had grown four-times his original size and was getting larger
still. The flames on his body still burned, but not as brightly as they had when
Blake first lay them down. If all went according to plan, Blake would soon have
all of Whitley up in flames.
The helicopter came in near one of the large cranes. Blake got up to his
knees and grasped the machine gun. A rather simple device, simply point in the
general direction you want and press down the little red button. The bullets were
electrically powered and, if this was the same model that Blake was familiar with,
the bullets should pour out at a speed of twenty rounds per second. Blake pressed
the button and they seemed to do just that. The bullets sprayed outwards at the
barrels. Most missed their target but the few that did strike home, struck intensely.
The barrel's ripped open in a blooming of orange fire. Each explosion caused an
adjacent barrel to explode in another flare of heat. Soon the base of the entire
crane was covered in fire. The massive crane groaned and whined under the intense
heat. MacReady pulled away from the crane as it began tottering inwards. Whitley,
now a good fifty-feet tall, didn't stand a chance. The massive burning tower came
careening downwards upon him.
The two men watched as the flaming crane cut through Whitley and crashed
downwards through the UFO itself. A huge crunch resounded through even the beat
of the helicopter rotors. There was a flash of white light from the center of the
UFO and then nothing. From underneath the burning wreckage, what was left of Whitley
struggled to move.
'Is it dead?' MacReady shouted back at Blake.
Blake watched in silence as a blue light began to pulse from within the UFO.
It started off small and slow but Blake could see that it was getting larger and
pulsing at faster intervals. Hovering above the UFO didn't seem to be the safest
place to be.
'Shit, pull us out of here man,' Blake shouted, 'pull out! Pull out!'
'What in bloody hell are you talking about?' the pilot shouted back, but he
eased the helicopter upwards and outwards anyways.
The helicopter quickly made its way away from the excavation pit and Whitley.
Blake moved from the rear of the helicopter up into the copilot's seat and took
his place beside the pilot. The plains of white seemed to move lazily past them.
'So what's going on? Why'd we have to pull out so fast?' MacReady began.
Blake didn't have to open his mouth. A gigantic explosion erupted from behind
them. The UFO, ruptured by the combined efforts of the burning Whitley and the
fallen crane tower had exploded in a balloon of white fire. The entire continent
seemed to rise twenty degrees for a few seconds and then fall again. Macready glanced
over at Blake from beneath his sunglass and laughed.
'Oh, that's why,' he laughed, 'how'd you know it was going to do that?'
I didn't know, were the words on the tip of Blake's tongue, but that feeling
of time slowing down to a crawl had once more stolen over him. Everything seemed
to blur and melt together. Nausea and a dull gnawing pain couple with euphoria
once again filled Blake. Red tentacles suddenly flew up into Blake's vision. Shit!
Was Macready infected? The man beside Blake was screaming in pain and agony. Where
was the creature? Blake's head lolled downwards and he caught a glimpse at his body.
It was all blurry and red, but Blake was able to see that the tentacles were, in
fact, coming from his own body.
Oh, Blake thought, well that explains alot.
The helicopter remained constant for a short distance then began to list back
and forth. Less than a minute after it began to rock back and forth, the helicopter
took a nose dive straight into the ground and exploded in a shower of fire and metal.
FIN