The Dark

by Emma Haughton

  Sonya nods. Glances at Caro, then back at me. ‘That was amazing, Kate. You saved both their lives. You’ve never done a caesarean before, have you? Despite what you said.’

  ‘No,’ I admit. ‘Never.’

  Sonya’s gaze lingers on mine, but there’s approval in it.

  ‘You are very brave.’ She lifts a hand and cups my face. ‘I’m not sure we can get through this without you, Kate, so be careful out there. No playing the hero, okay?’

  40

  7 July

  Back in the lounge, I find Alice and Rajiv taking refuge under the duvets while Luuk and Rob, dressed in their outdoor gear, fiddle with a couple of the smaller stoves that seem to be making little impression on the plummeting temperatures. I’m relieved to see Tom is with them.

  ‘Is she all right?’ Alice asks. I can tell immediately that she’s been crying.

  I nod. ‘Reckon so.’

  ‘Drew said Caro had a girl.’ Suddenly Tom’s face lights up into a rare smile.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s very early on, though, isn’t it?’ he asks. ‘Will she live?’

  ‘Do you mean Caro, or the baby?’

  ‘Both, I suppose.’

  Everyone is staring at me, waiting on my answer. I decide honesty is the only option. ‘I’m pretty sure Caro will be okay. The bleeding seems to be under control. It’s touch-and-go with the baby though – she’s very premature. In a proper antenatal unit, her chances would be excellent, but here …’ I stop. No need to say any more.

  ‘I’ll pray for them both,’ Tom says quietly.

  I gaze at him, surprised. I never realised that Tom, like his father, is religious. I assumed it was something he’d rejected, along with his father’s homophobia.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say simply. ‘They’re going to need all the help they can get.’

  I turn to Rajiv, who’s retrieved his turban and wound it back onto his head. Black, I notice, wondering if that’s a comment on our situation. ‘Can you spare some powdered milk?’

  ‘Of course. Would you like me to fetch it from the kitchen?’

  ‘Please. But take Alice, will you? And be careful.’

  ‘Then can we go and see them?’ Alice asks hopefully, making a visible effort to pull herself together.

  ‘Caro’s sleeping, but you and Rajiv can take the milk to Sonya. Can you bring her a small saucepan and some bottled water too?’

  ‘We’re already running pretty low on water.’ Rajiv looks worried. ‘All the pipes are beginning to freeze.’

  ‘Rob and I were about to go out and collect some snow,’ Luuk chips in. ‘Plus more fuel for the stoves.’

  That leaves nobody to accompany me to Beta, but I really need to find Arne.

  I’ll just have to take my chances, I decide. Stay watchful and alert. ‘Have you got a spare walkie-talkie I can use?’ I ask Luuk.

  ‘We haven’t even got one ourselves. Half the handsets seem to be missing, plus the batteries are dead on a couple of others. Drew, Arne and Ark have the only ones working.’

  Fuck, I think, as I hurry to the comms room in Beta. That’s all we need.

  No sign of Ark in the generator room – I’m guessing he’s out on the ice helping to retrieve the backup, but I can’t contact him without a walkie-talkie. I check the cupboard in the boot room where they’re stored, but as Luuk said, the only remaining handsets have flat batteries.

  Shit. I pull on my down trousers and jacket, wondering whether to go outside and search for Ark and the others. But that means venturing into that darkness alone, with no way of calling for help if I run into trouble.

  No playing the hero.

  I remember Sonya’s words, her injunction to keep myself safe. She’s right, I decide. Too risky – even if I am desperate to find Arne.

  Better to return to the clinic, check on Caro and the baby, and wait for the others to come inside. I take the shortcut through Beta, almost reaching the connecting walkway when I hear a crash emanating from one of the storerooms.

  What the hell was that?

  I retrace my steps, swinging my torch beam around the supply room. To my surprise, I see someone crouching on the floor. He turns as he spots my flashlight.

  Arne.

  A rush of relief. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Tripped over something,’ he groans, his voice full of pain. ‘Smashed my fucking toe.’

  I walk over. Shine my light on his booted foot. ‘Let’s get you into the warm, then I’ll take a proper look.’

  Arne shakes his head. ‘Give me a minute.’ He reaches down and retrieves his own torch from where he dropped it on the ground. Checks it’s still working.

  ‘I hear Caro had her baby,’ he says.

  I nod. ‘A little girl.’

  He hops over, gives me a hug. ‘I also heard you saved both their lives, Kate.’

  Still too early to be sure of that, I think, but don’t say so. ‘What are you doing in here anyway?’

  ‘Getting some silicone lubricant for Ark. He’s trying to repair the spare generator.’ Suddenly his torch blinks out. He bangs it a few times but it refuses to come back on. ‘Great.’

  ‘You mean the backup has been sabotaged as well?’ I ask, appalled.

  Arne nods. ‘Whoever did it made a damn good job of it too.’

  Oh God. I shudder, reeling from the impact of this news. No chance of power any time soon. What on earth are we going to do?

  Why would anyone disable the power? I wonder again. Is it an attempt to kill us all? Or is the idea to keep us too busy and preoccupied with pure survival to present any kind of threat.

  Impossible to fathom.

  Arne puts weight on his toe, wincing.

  ‘I’ll get the lubricant,’ I offer, shivering despite my outdoor gear. The temperature in here has to be well below freezing. ‘Where is it?

  ‘By the cleaning agents.’ He points to a box in the corner of the room.

  I walk over and pick up one of the canisters and hand it to Arne.

  ‘Thanks.’ He stuffs it into his jacket. It’s only then I spot something poking out from his left pocket. I lift my torch for a better look. Then reach across and remove it before Arne can stop me.

  It takes a second or two to register what I’m holding. A chunky black phone, with a short stubby antenna.

  The sat phone.

  What the fuck? I swing my gaze to Arne. ‘You took the sat phone?’

  ‘I was about to tell you,’ he says. ‘I found it in the vehicle bay. It was just sitting on a workbench. God knows how none of us noticed it before.’

  I fix him with a cold stare. ‘You didn’t remove this from Sandrine’s office then?’

  Arne returns my look, his expression indignant. ‘I did not, Kate. Why would I do that? I was going to bring it to Rob or Tom once I’d given Ark the lube.’

  ‘Why?’

  He takes it from my hands and presses a button. ‘See for yourself. It’s not working, though the batteries are okay. I thought maybe one of them could fix it.’

  I frown, confused. Has the sat phone been sabotaged too? Or is there some innocent explanation?

  More to the point, can I believe Arne’s excuse for why I’ve just found it in his pocket?

  I stand there, trying to think. Trying to make sense of it all.

  ‘The gun has gone,’ I say to Arne, studying his reaction.

  He narrows his eyes at me. ‘What gun?’

  ‘The one that was locked up in Beta. Someone took the key, and now it’s disappeared.’

  Arne appears horrified. ‘You’re kidding. I didn’t even know we had one on the base.’

  ‘Me neither.’ I inhale, watching the vapour in my breath coalesce in my torch beam. It’s getting colder in here by the minute.

  I hover, gripped by indecision, teeth beginning to chatter. What should I do? More than anything I want to turn to Arne, to ask for help, but I’ve no longer any idea whether I can trust him.

  I glance over. He’s staring into
the distance, lost in thought. What’s going on in his head? I wonder. What exactly is he planning?

  I’ve been a fool, I realise, remembering the activity band. I accepted Arne’s assurance that he had nothing to do with it simply because I wanted to believe him. I trusted him because I’d been blinded by my own feelings.

  Same as back then. Same as with Ben.

  I make up my mind. This is down to me.

  ‘I have to go,’ I say abruptly, leaving before he can stop me.

  41

  7 July

  ‘It’s me,’ I hiss through the clinic door. ‘Let me in.’

  Sonya opens it a moment later. I lock the door behind me and peer at the baby swaddled in a duvet in her arms. A tiny face peeks out. So small and fragile, but her colour is good.

  ‘How are they both?’ I ask.

  ‘Fine,’ Sonya replies. ‘I’ve been keeping this one on regular oxygen, plus I gave her a bit of milk in a pipette – she didn’t seem interested though. Caro’s still drowsy. BP normal. The bleeding has pretty much stopped.’

  I receive this update with a mix of emotions. The little one will have to take some milk or water soon or we’ll be in dangerous territory. But the news that Caro seems past the worst is welcome – with any luck we can get her out of here soon.

  But what about that filing cabinet? I remind myself – we urgently need to find out who the hell is doing this, and the only clue lies in those files.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Sonya catches my expression in the soft light of the kerosene lamps.

  ‘I think we should leave,’ I say. ‘Now.’

  She frowns at me. ‘And go where?’

  ‘Gamma. You’ll be safer over there.’ I’ll get them both installed in the summer camp, I decide, then come back and find a way into that cabinet.

  ‘Why?’ Sonya looks puzzled. ‘What’s going on, Kate? Has someone else been hurt?’

  ‘Not yet, but …’ I gaze at her, wondering what to say. I’m aware Caro might be listening, and the last thing I want is to cause her any more stress.

  ‘I found Arne with this.’ I pull the sat phone out of my pocket and show it to Sonya.

  She gazes at it, puzzled. ‘What was Arne doing with it?’

  ‘He said he came across it on a workbench in the garage.’

  ‘But you don’t believe him?’ Sonya frowns again.

  ‘Thing is …’ I lower my voice to a near whisper. ‘That’s not all. I also discovered Alex’s activity monitor under one of the garage shelving units, before Sandrine died. It had been deliberately crushed.’

  Sonya blinks at me, speechless, rocking the tiny scrap of life in her arms as she tries to take this all in.

  ‘And you think …’ She stops, shakes her head. ‘No, I don’t believe it. Not Arne.’

  I gauge her reaction in the flickering light of the gas lamps.

  ‘Seriously, Kate, Arne would never do this. Never.’

  Cradling the baby in one arm, Sonya reaches over and pats my hand for emphasis. Something in her expression tells me that she, too, is aware how I feel about him. Clearly everyone knows something’s going on between the station doctor and the vehicle mechanic.

  No secrets in this place.

  But is Sonya right about Arne, her solid belief that he’s one of the good guys? After all, everybody seems to like and trust him. Except, perhaps, Jean-Luc … for the first time I wonder if Arne’s account of the rift between them was true. ‘Listen, you need—’ Her words are cut short by a noise. Loud and sharp.

  The unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

  Sonya’s eyes widen. ‘Was that a gun?’

  ‘The station pistol.’ I spin around, trying to determine where the sound came from.

  ‘Fuck,’ Sonya says, after a moment or two – the only time I’ve ever heard this dignified lady swear.

  Please God, I pray silently. Please don’t let anyone else be hurt.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asks a groggy voice behind us. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Nothing.’ I go to Caro, put a hand to her skin to see if there’s any heat there. Her temperature seems normal, thankfully. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Sore,’ she groans. ‘It hurts everywhere. But okay.’

  ‘Do you think you can get up and dressed?’ I try to keep my voice calm and casual.

  ‘Why?’ Caro winces as she lifts her head to focus on me. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ I admit. ‘But it might be a good idea to move out of here.’ I am determined now to get Caro and the baby somewhere safer – that shot sounded terrifyingly close.

  I turn to Sonya. ‘I need to go and see what just happened. You stay with Caro, give her some more pain relief if she needs it, then help her get dressed.’

  Sonya stares at me as if I’m mad. ‘You can’t go out there, Kate. It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘No choice,’ I say. ‘I have to make sure no one is hurt. Don’t let anybody in till I come back, and pack everything you need to evacuate.’

  ‘Kate—’ Sonya calls after me, bewildered.

  But I’m gone.

  42

  7 July

  The corridor is empty. And bitterly cold, the temperature now well below zero. A horrible image fills my mind as I stand, hesitating, outside the clinic. Our torch batteries going flat, one by one, the fuel for the stoves and kerosene lamps running low. The ice station engulfed in darkness, the freezing night creeping into every corner.

  What will get us first? I wonder.

  The killer, or the cold?

  Taking a deep breath, I do the one thing I least want to do. Turn off my torch. I shiver in the claustrophobic blackness, heart racing, fighting the urge to switch it back on. The dark feels like something alive, something menacing.

  It could contain anything, I think.

  Anyone.

  Get a grip, Kate. I focus on the route to the lounge, drawing a mental map in my head, then grope towards the far wall. Using my fingertips to guide me, I edge my way along the corridor, counting off the doorways, pushing down a sick dread that somebody might pounce at any moment.

  Would I hear them coming?

  My hand hits empty space. I turn left towards the lounge. What if you did encounter the killer? asks another part of my mind. What exactly would you do?

  Hit them with your torch?

  A second later, my foot twists on something and I crash to the floor, hands flailing to absorb the impact. My knee screams with a pain so bad I think I’m about to pass out. I lie there, in the darkness, waiting for the agony to subside. As I put out my hands to get up, my fingers close on a small round ball.

  I pick it up, feeling the indentations on the surface. Jesus. I nearly broke my neck on one of Sandrine’s fucking golf balls.

  Her parting shot. I almost laugh with the absurdity of it.

  Shoving it in my pocket, I heave myself to my feet and that’s when I hear it. An audible crackle, accompanied by a momentary flash of static, just up ahead.

  I freeze, heart in mouth.

  Oh God. There’s someone here, with me, in the dark.

  I peer into the surrounding blackness, listening, trying not to breathe or make any sound. Not daring to move, in case I give myself away with some static of my own.

  Time slows and stretches. I wait for another crack of the gun, the impact of the bullet. The thump of my heartbeat fills my head, so loud, it seems to me, that I’m afraid whoever is out there can hear it too.

  Suddenly there’s a scream, not far away.

  Alice.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I switch my torch back on and race in the direction of the lounge, ignoring the protests from my knee. As I round the corner, I spot her and Rajiv squatting over someone on the floor.

  ‘Kate!’ Alice exclaims as I run towards them. ‘Quick!’

  I kneel down next to the body. A rush of relief as I see Tom’s eyes are open, staring at me with an expression of astonishment.

  ‘Jes
us,’ I gasp. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I’ve been shot in the leg.’ He groans. ‘It hurts like fuck.’

  I swing my torch to his jeans. A large bloodstain blooms across Tom’s left thigh, expanding as I watch. My thoughts blank with fear and exhaustion. This is impossible, my mind insists.

  This can’t be happening.

  ‘Kate?’ Alice’s voice is tremulous with distress. ‘What should we do?’

  ‘We’ll take him into the lounge,’ I say, pulling myself together. ‘Can you ask Sonya for antiseptic wipes, plus some of the morphine I put out for Caro? You’ll have to go on your own, so be careful.’

  She nods, disappearing into the darkness. Rajiv and I manage to get Tom to his feet and help him limp down the corridor to the lounge. I hurry to clear a space on the floor. Looking around for something to cut his trouser leg, I spot Sonya’s knitting basket. I root inside, find the tiny pair of rainbow-coloured scissors she uses to snip the ends of her yarn.

  ‘Where’s Rob?’ I ask, as I hack my way through the thick denim of Tom’s jeans.

  ‘He went outside to get some more snow.’

  ‘On his own?’ I grit my teeth with frustration.

  Rajiv shrugs. ‘It’s impossible, Kate. Besides, whoever is doing this has a gun. We can’t protect one another from that.’

  Fair point, I concede, finally exposing the upper part of Tom’s leg. ‘Pass me that box of tissues,’ I say to Rajiv, using a handful to swab away the blood. I shine my light on the clean round hole just to the side of his femur. Tom groans as I lift his leg into the air and check for an exit wound on the other side.

  ‘You’re in luck,’ I tell him. ‘The bullet passed clean through, missed the bone and the femoral artery. I’ll disinfect the wound and dress it, then give you some pain relief, plus antibiotics to minimise the risk of infection. You should be fine.’

  He swallows, nods, his face deathly pale.

  ‘What happened? Do you remember?’

  ‘I …’ he stammers, sounding shaky with shock. ‘It was my fault.’