Everything Dies | Season 3
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Raine pushed her away violently.
‘You kept this from us for how long? Months?’ she asked.
‘Only because I knew this would happen,’ Foster said.
‘This needs to end now, Miller. We do it my way,’ O.B. said. He lined up the barrel of his gun with Ethan’s head.
In turn, Salty raised his rifle and trained it on O.B.
‘Call off your dog, Miller. This ain’t goin’ down like this,’ he said.
‘Lower your weapons, both of you,’ Raine ordered.
‘No,’ O.B. said, holding his aim steady. ‘He has to die.’
‘I agree with you, but not like this. He deserves to go with some dignity. We owe him that,’ Raine said.
Rather than standing down, O.B. pulled the hammer back on the pistol.
Ethan started to shrink at the thought of his impending demise. He squinted and turned away, anticipating the bullet.
Salty wasn’t about to back down either. He covered the trigger of his rifle, ready to fire.
‘You’ll just come up with another excuse and put us all in danger again,’ O.B. said.
Foster composed herself and stood tall, placing herself between Ethan and the gun.
‘Get out of the way,’ O.B. said, agitatedly flicking the weapon to one side.
‘Or what? You’ll go through me to get to him? Don’t give in to this, Oswald. If you do, there’s no going back,’ Foster said.
‘There’s nothing to go back to. Now get out of the way,’ he said even more forcefully.
‘Step aside, Geraldine,’ Ethan said. ‘It’s over.’
Foster turned to him, and their eyes met.
‘You’ve done everything you could for me. I’ve never been more grateful to anyone, but you have to let me go,’ he said.
‘No,’ Foster replied as they both held back their emotions.
O.B. was poised to fire, and so was Salty.
Raine weighed up the possibility of launching herself at O.B. to try and redirect the first shot he would inevitably get off when tackled.
They didn’t hear Jason enter over the chatter and the tension of the situation. It was only when he raised his voice on his third ‘Hey!’ that Raine turned around to see him standing at the doors of the lab.
Blood trickled from the cut in his lip, but it was his fraught expression and the distinct sense of panic in his wide eyes that caught her attention.
‘Crawford’s chopper,’ he said. ‘It’s on fire.’
On hearing the news, the two men slowly lowered their weapons, and everyone took a breath.
Raine, Salty, and O.B. all headed to the doors.
‘Where’s Crawford?’ Raine asked.
‘The lights are on in her cabin, so I guess she’s still there,’ Jason said.
‘Did you see anyone else?’
‘Like who? I just saw the flames coming from the ridge,’ Jason replied.
‘I warned you all about this, but you wouldn’t fuckin’ listen,’ Salty said. ‘Someone has been stalking our camp, and now they’re inside.’
‘They stole the guns?’ O.B. asked.
‘Of course they did,’ Raine said. ‘They took away the ability for us to defend ourselves, and now they’re preventing us from leaving by destroying our means of transport.’
Salty ran to the nearest fire extinguisher and yanked it from the bracket on the wall.
‘I’ll take the sled and head up there. I’ll pick Crawford up on the way.’ With that, Salty carried the extinguisher out into the snow, heading to where he had jumped off the snowmobile.
‘We need to go back to the compound and secure it if they haven’t gotten inside already,’ Raine said.
‘What about the weapons?’ Jason asked.
He was right to bring it up. As Raine looked around at them, she realised Salty had taken the only rifle with him. Outside of the handgun O.B. carried and her combat knife, the only other weapons that hadn’t been stolen were in the sleeping quarters in the northwest corner of the compound.
‘We’ll head for the tractor garage first. There are a couple of axes in there. Then we split up and work our way through. I’ll start in A section. Jason, you take G, O.B. takes C, and we’ll meet up in the middle. O.B., there’s a handgun in my room. Make sure you pick it up and any others you can find.’
O.B. nodded.
Raine glanced back into the lab to Ethan and Foster, who were in the middle of a comforting embrace.
‘You two stay put. Lock the doors behind us.’
The three of them left the lab on a mission. In all the drama, everyone had been oblivious to the undead woman skulking in the darkest corner of the room. It could have quite easily attacked and no one would have been ready until it was too late, but it remained subdued, awaiting its next command.
Salty couldn’t crank the throttle of the sled any harder. To his right, he could see the flames spiralling up from beneath the fuselage cover of the helicopter. To his left, he caught sight of Crawford running from her cabin into the snow. She stumbled as she tried to put on her remaining boot and pull her coat over her shoulders, the whole time with her eyes fixed on the fires surrounding her beloved bird.
Such was her anxiety at seeing the smoke and flames, she only noticed the sled approaching when it was right on top of her.
She fell down in order to secure her boot and then immediately scrambled to her feet to climb aboard the snowmobile.
‘What the fuck is goin’ on?’ she asked.
The smell of liquor on her breath almost knocked Salty from the driver seat.
‘How the hell should I know,’ he said. ‘Hold on.’
She wrapped her arms around his waist as he accelerated to the ridge.
It soon became easier for them to see just how badly the fires had taken hold, and there were no signs of it abating, even in the swirling winds.
Salty surmised that this couldn’t be an accident. Some form of accelerant had been used.
Crawford knew better than him how bad it looked. The fires had spread to the fuel tank, and it was only a matter of time. She reached over and snatched the extinguisher out of the carrying pouch, then threw herself from the speeding sled into the snow.
Salty swerved on the vehicle due to the unexpected shift in weight and then skidded to a halt.
Crawford stumbled to her feet, cradling the cannister of compressed foam, and waded towards her dying bird.
‘Crawford, wait!’ Salty shouted.
She’d only taken a few steps when the helicopter exploded, showering the surrounding area with burning debris. The shock wave knocked Crawford backwards and sent Salty toppling from the snowmobile.
The first thing he saw as he gazed up at the sky was the flaming blades of the main rotor spinning past him like a giant elaborate firework. Hot pieces of aircraft sizzled and smoked in the powdered ground, and another small explosion erupted from the landing site.
Crawford was the first to rise. She never stopped to appreciate what a miracle it was that she hadn’t been cut in half by the flying wreckage. Her eyes were focussed on the smouldering spot where her chopper once stood, mouth open in a silent scream of anguish.
Extinguisher still in her grasp, she wandered aimlessly through the destruction.
Salty realised his rifle had been tossed from the sled and he scrambled around, digging into the drift to try to locate it.
‘Don’t go up there yet,’ he shouted. ‘It’s not safe.’
Crawford either didn’t hear him or ignored his warning and carried on to the top of the ridge.
Concerned for her, Salty abandoned his search for the gun and tried to catch up to her.
Laying eyes on the skeletal remains of the fuselage cut through the shock and brought home the reality of what had just happened. Crawford hurled the extinguisher at the broken body of the chopper and screamed into the arctic night.
‘You motherfuckers! You motherfuckers!’
‘Crawford!’ Salty finally got to her, but she wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say, shrugging off his attempts to grab hold of her. ‘We have to get back to the compound,’ he said.
‘What for? We’re finished. We’re fucked,’ she said.
‘We have to find the others and get out of here.’
‘Where do we go without the bird?’ Crawford asked, her voice breaking.
‘We’ll take the sled and cram everyone else into the Snowcat and…’ Salty stopped midsentence when he noticed Crawford’s attention had been drawn away by something else. She gazed down the bank in the direction they’d come from.
‘Who is that?’ she asked.
Salty turned to see five figures through the smoking wreckage. They were standing two feet apart from each other in a half circle. He couldn’t see their faces beneath the hoods of their winter jackets, but it was clear they were staring directly at him and Crawford.
He reached for the strap of his rifle before remembering his weapon was buried somewhere in the snow close to where the intruders were standing.
‘Who are you?’ he called out. ‘What do you want?’
The figure in the centre moved his arm from his side to reveal the automatic weapon he was holding. The other four followed suit and brandished their weapons as well.
‘Your guns, our guns,’ the man in the centre said. He raised the automatic at them and let loose, and his companions responded in kind.
Shots whizzed past the debris separating them. Some struck the white-hot frame of the fuselage; others peppered the bodies of Salty and Crawford.
They fell back together and rolled from the edge of the ridge, plummeting thirty feet into the drifts below.
The five intruders turned around and started to walk back in the direction of the compound.
8
At the lab, Foster and Ethan had locked the doors and propped a heavy set of metal shelves up against them.
The explosion from the helicopter’s fuel tank catching fire had been unmissable. They pressed their ears to the wall to listen to the hollow popping sounds that proceeded it.
‘That was gunfire,’ Ethan said.
‘Yes, yes it was,’ Foster said. ‘Can you tell which direction it was coming from?’
‘Sounded like the ridge,’ Ethan said as it dawned on him what that could mean. ‘Jake,’ he whispered.
They moved away from the door and retreated to the main section of the lab. Ethan glanced over to the creature in the corner. It stood in the same place, subdued and obedient.
‘She heard the explosion too,’ Ethan said.
Foster watched the creature sway in the shadows as if it was a machine that had been placed on standby mode.
She opened her mouth to speak to Ethan, but before she could get the words out, the power to the building died and all the lights went out.
Foster felt her way to the window on the south wall and looked out towards the rest of the compound. Only the dark outline of the structure was visible against the snow.
‘Everything’s been shut down,’ she said.
‘Can you see anyone?’ Ethan asked.
‘No one. They must be inside.’
‘Get back here. We need to hide,’ Ethan said.
Raine crept along the corridor to A section on the balls of her feet, peering through the murky glass of the greenhouse to make sure no one was lurking between the rows of plants.
She clutched her combat knife, blade down, so the teeth of its jagged edge were touching the flesh of her forearm. Ducking her head around the corner to check the coast was clear, she entered the main hallway of D section and dodged across to the door opposite that led to the rec room where she’d been earlier.
Because less natural light could get in and the power was out, the room was virtually pitch black.
She sidestepped beyond the pool table, careful not to kick the acoustic guitar resting in the corner. She stayed low and anticipated the slightest noise or reflection in the glass of the mirrored walls.
By the time she reached the squared-off sofas in the relaxation area, she felt the presence of someone behind her and saw another figure emerging from the shadows just ahead, holding a lantern. Both intruders had masculine builds, but she couldn’t see their faces behind the hoods of their jackets. The one behind her picked up one of the pool cues from the table, and the other already had a knife in his hand. He placed the lantern on the ground next to his feet.
The two men shared a look, as if they were trying to communicate an unspoken message of their coordinated attack.
The man with the pool cue initiated the melee by charging at her, swinging it above his head.
She managed to duck the cue and braced herself for the second attack. The second intruder lunged with a straight arm to try and stab her, and she skipped backwards beneath the next swing of the pool cue.
He quickly brought the stick over her head and pulled it into her chest to restrain her.
The knife wielder spied his chance and went in for the kill while she was being held.
Raine grabbed the cue with both hands and used the man’s strength to lift her legs up so she could kick the approaching attacker square in the chest.
He fell hard on his back, winded and desperately gagging for air.
She let go of the cue and stabbed down with her blade, embedding it into the other man’s thigh. He screamed something indiscernible and released the tension on the cue, allowing her to break free.
She withdrew the knife from the muscle it had shredded and slashed its sharp edge across his stomach. It cut through his jacket and the shirt underneath, drawing more blood.
The winded intruder had now managed to drag himself off the ground and onto all fours, still gasping to fill his lungs. Before he had the chance to recover, she took two long strides in his direction and kneed him in the side of his head, sending him rolling into the wall with a thud.
The man she’d stabbed got to his feet and launched himself at her in a last attempt to take her down. His large hands gripped her throat, and he was surely powerful enough to choke her out.
No sooner had his hands tightened around her neck than they relaxed again as he felt her knife puncture his left flank near his kidney. Letting her go completely, he groaned, dropped to his knees, and then fell onto his face.
The swift and brutal encounter had Raine panting for breath, forcing her to drop to one knee. She never saw the third intruder slip into the rec room during the brawl, and he was able to collect the pool cue from the floor when the stabbed man dropped it.
The blow he gave to the back of her neck caused the wood to snap in two, but it had the desired effect. Raine crumpled to the ground and lay motionless.
He discarded the other half of the splintered cue and stepped over Raine to examine his bleeding counterpart. The badly wounded man stared up at the ceiling, still breathing but in no fit state to move.
The intruder only stood over him for a moment before he moved to the other man who Raine had kneed in the head. He jabbed him in the back with the toe of his boot, which elicited a groan.
‘Get up,’ he said. ‘Our work is not done.’
The hooded stranger wandered into the corridor via the northwest entrance. He aimed his rifle into the map room, scanning its interior for signs of movement. The room was empty, so he crept along to the radio room and searched there too.
O.B. stood behind the door in the old geology laboratory adjacent to the intruder. He listened intently to the footsteps, securing the suppressor to the end of his handgun with slow methodical twists.
The intruder turned to exit the radio room, and O.B. moved into the corridor to greet him. The man saw O.B. too late to raise his rifle, and two silenced shots entered his chest.
No sooner had the man fallen in a heap in the doorway, another intruder entered the corridor from the main hall running through the heart of the compound.
He heard the door to the infirmary click, already at his back, and spun around. Pulling the trigger too soon, his first shot struck the frame of the door. Fortunately for O.B., the intruder was so startled that rather than dash for cover inside the infirmary again, he lost his balance and stumbled out into the hallway.
Swifter in his reaction, O.B. never allowed the man to recover. He put one in the intruder’s thigh and another in his stomach.
The man collapsed, screaming in pain. He was still alive, but not for long. O.B. kept going and left his latest victim to bleed out.
He was about to reach A section and the greenhouse. It suddenly occurred to him that he had strayed beyond the rendezvous point, and Raine and Jason were nowhere to be seen. He stopped and glanced down the hallway, contemplating whether he should double back to the section he knew was clear. It may be better for him to skirt around the outside of the building to the tractor garage. If the Snowcat was still there, he could possibly make a break for it and save himself.
O.B. snorted in indignation at his idea and instead carried on in the direction of A section.
To his regret, the two men dragging Raine’s unconscious body out of the rec room caught sight of him first.
He tried to dodge into the kitchen for cover but met the barrel of a shotgun protruding from the dark of the doorway.
‘Hand over your weapon and you will not be harmed,’ the man said in a calm synthetic tone.
One of the intruders carrying Raine let go of her to draw his gun.
There were only two options for O.B.: surrender or die right there.
Although he couldn’t see the man’s face properly beneath the deep hood he wore, something about his voice suggested he was telling the truth. O.B. released his grip on the handgun and passed it to his captor.
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