by Perrin Briar
Z-MINUS: 14 minutes
Bloody up to his elbows and splattered over his face and neck, Hamish unplugged the fuel canister from under the kitchen counter. He unscrewed the cap and doused the walls and bodies. He made a trail down the corridor, and inside each room. He lit a match and tossed it.
The flames woofed and bit deep into the wood. They rushed through the station. Hamish unbolted the main entrance doors and let the wind grip it, throwing it open. The wind beat at the flames from the outside, breathing onto it, inadvertently giving it life.
The fire whipped into a frenzy, melting the snow and making it spit. The storm was already beginning to wane. The temperature was still extreme, but the wind was restrained, the snow no longer a flurry but a drizzle.
The center had stood decades, had withstood storms of incredible magnitude. Hamish had feared countless times that the shack would not be able to stand the storm much longer, and yet somehow, it had. It had been from within, from one it had been protecting, that it was destroyed, just as the other scientists had been.
The fire was a rage, a torrent that pushed back against the sleet and snow. The storm was dying, though it wasn’t without its surprise jabs and thrusts that almost knocked the fire into submission. The fire recovered and blasted back against the ice and sleet and cold. Hamish walked away from it, his shadow dancing on the snow, flickering in one direction and then another.
The rescue helicopter would be arriving soon. Hamish had to deal with Daniel before they had a chance to get involved.
It wasn’t hard to know which shed Daniel had hidden in. The slats had been pulled back and snapped off. He’d crawled inside to get some protection from the bitter cold. The wind howled and bit into Hamish’s face and arms, but for once he didn’t feel it. The heat lost its small sphere of influence, until it was but a distant memory.
It didn’t matter. Hamish wasn’t expecting to return. This was a one-way trip. He wasn’t going to come back. He was going to stay at the end of his journey, no matter what happened. He just hoped he wouldn’t be alone when that moment arrived.
Hamish unlocked the padlock and pulled the chains free. The wind snagged the doors and threw them wide open.
The two snow mobiles were parked in the middle of the room, still wearing their protective cases. They hadn’t been moved. It was no surprise Daniel hadn’t taken one of them out. Neither Daniel nor the machine would have lasted long in the storm. And the rescue team were coming to him. Why travel out into the wilderness and risk getting lost when he could bite one of the rescuers? Daniel’s mission would be complete.
Whatever Daniel’s plans were, and Hamish suspected they went deeper than they knew, he wanted to remain here, to see everything through. He wanted to make sure the first domino had fallen correctly. There was something else at work here, something Hamish did not yet understand. Fear drilled deep in his stomach, twisting like an adder around its prey.
“They’re all dead,” Hamish said to the shed’s shadows. “I killed them. The virus too. You’re all that’s left.”
He didn’t know if Daniel was there or not, was still alive enough to hear him, but he didn’t care. He needed to say this.
Then he felt it – another presence in the shed. He turned to face the far corner.
“I gave them enough pills to sleep for a week,” Hamish said. “And then I chopped off their heads and set them on fire. There’s only you and I left now. After I’m done with you, I’ll do what needs to be done with myself.”
The shadows began to move. Daniel stepped out, a demon from a nightmare. The temperature had taken its toll. His feet and hands were wrapped with flimsy, ragged strips from his shirt. It did little to provide protection against the biting cold. Severe frostbite had crippled his hands, feet, ears and nose. His skin had a pale icy sheen to it. His voice croaked, his muscles unable to provide the movement required for comprehensive speech.
“You’re more ruthless than I expected,” Daniel said. “Your friends still had time.”
“It would not have been good time,” Hamish said. “It would have been tainted time, time that would give them false hope of a cure that would not come. I did them a mercy.”
“And now you’re here to do me one?” Daniel said with a weak smile.
“No,” Hamish said, hefting the ax into his hands. “I’m here to get bloody revenge. By all rights you should be dead already.”
“I very nearly am,” Daniel said. “But the cold… it slows my blood. I will die, of course, and turn, but it has given me life for a little longer, long enough to do what I need to do, anyway. It’ll turn you, just like it turned the others.”
“When were you infected?” Hamish said.
“Ian,” Daniel said. “He scratched me when I released him from the morgue. The damn fool broke his bubblehead, spilling the virus I had injected into it. They’re fragile little things. They weren’t meant to break until later once everyone was home.”
“Why did you do this?” Hamish said. “You couldn’t have always been crazy.”
“I’m not crazy now,” Daniel said. “I see things clearly. I saw them clearly in the eye of the specimen we found, in the secret it contained. Dr. Scott realized what it was. That was why he killed himself, the old fool. He thought he could take its secret to the grave with him. And he almost achieved it. Save for a single blood stained cotton bud. But it is a power that needs to be embraced, not destroyed.
“The day everyone thought he’d locked himself in his room again, consumed with a new project, I knew what he’d really done. I jimmied the lock and crept inside. I found he’d left all the documents and analyses of the specimen on the table and computer, for anyone to find. They would have known what he’d found, what it had done to him, why he’d chosen to destroy himself. I couldn’t let anyone else read them. So, I destroyed them.
“Dear Dr. Scott didn’t have time to warn us of everything that was happening to him, with the virus. Not without risking infecting the rest of us too. But he did have enough time to pen a letter. I destroyed it, naturally. It was a warning to the others that should the virus fall into the wrong hands it had the power to destroy the world.
“Dr. Scott was like a grandfather to us all, but even a grandfather has favorites, and despite all the time and effort I put into assisting and aiding him, despite all the sacrifices I had made, he did not favor me with scholarships or money or fame or fortune, but only scorn. The way only a rich man can ever feel toward his subordinates.
“He always believed the world was in the hands of the rich and the educated, and he was right. But the world wasn’t in their hands anymore, but mine. And I had a choice to make: to save the world, and everyone would never know me, forget me the way it always had done, or to destroy it, and have the prize of anonymity. The fate of a proud species, in many ways the most dominant species on the face of the earth, contained within a discarded swab. The same as I was discarded. It was almost poetic.
“All this history, and humans never existed. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that we’re not good for nature. We are an abomination. We were never meant to achieve consciousness. It was a mistake, and one I am very glad to rectify. We were given a gift: the virus that would answer all our prayers. All we need to do was get it out to the masses. That is my job. And I’ve done it.”
“The others are all dead,” Hamish said. “There is no more virus. Your plan has failed. The virus will die here, along with us.”
“You didn’t honestly think this was my A plan, did you?” Daniel said. “To entrust the fate of the new world order in the hands of a team of scientists? That’s why I sent for you, though I never expected you to put such a spanner in the works. I suppose that’s why Dr. Scott wanted you here. To figure things out. But your appearance played its part.
“This whole episode with you and the others has been fun, but it was never the main pursuit. The main pursuit should be arriving anytime now.”
“Dr. Scott was never part of this,
was he?” Hamish said. “He was never a part of your plans.”
“No,” Daniel said. “The old man never knew. Whatever happened here doesn’t even matter. I was going to win anyway.”
There was something in his tone, dark and yet playful, that grabbed Hamish’s attention. There was something about it that Hamish didn’t trust. He stayed his hand.
“You’re wondering if I know something, aren’t you?” Daniel said. “Or just playing for time. Except our time has already run out. We have no more time and we will both die. Then what I’m telling you must be true. Or is it?”
He chuckled.
“The rescue team will be too late,” Hamish said. “You won’t be able to infect them. I’ll kill you before then.”
“The rescue team is not my A plan,” Daniel said with a grin. “Go on. Take another guess.”
The shed grunted and then breathed a sigh of relief. The wind softened. The storm was blowing itself out.
“Sounds like the storm’s almost over,” Daniel said. “The rescue team will be here any minute.”
“Maybe,” Hamish said. “But we won’t.”
Hamish roared and raised his ax high. Daniel didn’t move, didn’t uncross his arms, and just stood there with a superior grin on his face. Hamish brought the ax down, striking Daniel’s leg above the knee. The bone snapped like it’d been petrified.
Daniel cried out, but not in pain. Hamish suspected the cold had numbed him to it. Instead, it was a laugh of success. It made Hamish angry. He swung the blade around and slammed it into Daniel’s ribs. Half a dozen cracks, and Daniel’s whole body gasped. Blood sputtered from his lips and dribbled down his chin, but the smile remained.
Hamish gripped Daniel by the collar and dragged him through the snow toward the waving doors. The center was fully afire now, burning with bright intensity. Daniel offered no resistance as Hamish took him toward the immersion shed. He stopped only to open the locks.
A deep thudding on the air, somewhere in the distance, like the heartbeat of the storm, and a flashing light, drawing near in the darkness. The undercarriage lights of a helicopter flashed, bright and full of hope. Of salvation. Of death and destruction. There could not be any evidence of the infection when the rescuers arrived.
“They’re here,” Daniel said with a smile in his voice.
Hamish pulled the doors open and dragged Daniel inside. Hamish picked up the metal pole and pierced the skin of ice that had formed over the top. It almost immediately began to freeze over again, like a wound healing itself. The fragments of ice floated like smashed glass.
He tossed Daniel’s body into it. He came back up, bobbing for a moment. Hamish poked him, pushing him back under the surface with the pole, holding him down. Daniel struggled, splashing water. He was weak, and did not take long before he stopped. Hamish waited a moment longer, in case it was a ploy. Daniel’s body lay facedown in the pool.
The thudding helicopter blades thundered as it touched down, shaking the shed’s flimsy roof.
Hamish put on a coat and protective clothing. He shouldered the air canisters and climbed down into the hole. A mist of ice was kicked up by the helicopter.
He approached the hole in the ice. The water was clear and fresh and lapped gently against the thick edges of the thick crust they’d drilled through. The water was five degrees. The human body, without protection, could survive for perhaps ten minutes. There would be a weak, but significant, pull of the current underneath. He was relying on it being there when he entered.
He put on a pair of thick goggles. He took one of the air canisters and strapped it on his back. It was heavy. He inserted the mouthpiece and took a few deep practice breaths.
The biggest and most pressing danger he faced was shock. He didn’t know if he could survive entering the water. If he could, he at least stood a chance. But what other choice did he have?
The freezing cold water stabbed at his ankles, and then his calves, his knees, thighs and torso. His whole body spasmed at the frigidity. His feet immediately turned numb, like they’d been cut off. The pain was excruciating, but then it dulled, like he’d been given an anesthetic. His body was already shaking violently. He needed to hurry or he wouldn’t be able to carry out the procedure.
He let out three puffs and then submerged. His head split with a painful headache, a hammer strike to his temples. He turned, opening his eyes, and they screamed in agony. There was no way he was going to be able to survive for long in here. The cold sapped his energy and snatched the air from his lungs. He peered around at his surroundings. He wouldn’t last long in the frigid cold water. He had to hurry.
He took hold of Daniel’s body, crouched down, coiling his legs up and thrust forward, through the water. He breathed in through the mouthpiece, but it was hard to breathe more than a trickle. He turned and faced the ceiling of his prison, his coffin, his world, and then began to pull himself along and kicking with his feet inch by inch, looking up at the ice above him. He thought he could see the cloudy white sky above, but it was probably just his imagination.
Bubbles dribbled out from his mouthpiece, tickling his skin as he floated through the water. The farther he went, the harder it was to move his muscles, until he felt he was only shuffling along an inch at a time. And then, as hard as he kicked, he didn’t seem to be moving forward.
It was frigid cold, and stole his energy. He was exhausted. He was tapped. He had nothing left to give, and so he dug deep and gave what he didn’t have. He kicked with his legs. They were freezing up, turning to thick unresponsive blocks.
The current. It had to be here somewhere. He wasn’t even sure which direction he was meant to be heading in, no clue.
And he thought of Kate. Of her final repose, her final resting position, the one he had put her in. The one she would occupy forever. He was sad things had to end that way, sad he would never really know what Daniel’s real plan was, or even if there was one.
The main pursuit should be arriving anytime now. A madman’s words were only as valuable as you allowed them to be.
Hamish turned to look back the way he’d come. He was surprised to find he hadn’t gone far. Searching strobes of light pierced the dark waters, torches held by the rescuers. If they found Hamish and Daniel’s bodies, they would be dooming the whole world.
There was only one hope.
He had to keep going, at least for as long as he was able, and hope the underwater current would seize him. But he could already feel the cold grip of death sweeping over him.
It won’t be long now, he thought.
He could already feel his brain functions beginning to flicker and die, all that experience and knowledge seeping away into the icy cold frigid water. His limbs stopped responding to his instructions. He was doomed. His coworkers would find him, like one of his specimens. They would investigate him, dissect him, figure out what happened to him. And then they would discover it, only it would be too late.
Hamish wept into his goggles. He had failed them. His friends. His family. Everyone.
The current grew stronger. He began to pick up speed as it pulled harder at him, through the water, his head scraping along the underside of the ice. He entered the darkness and saw a few small fishes and plankton that poked him in the face.
Swimming with the fishes, Hamish thought with a mind-chuckle.
And then he felt it. A light tug.
His first thought was it was from an angel, coming to take him away, leaving his lifeless body behind. It gently tugged on him, like a child pulling on her mother’s sleeve. Hamish smiled, but his lip muscles only twitched. He was dead, but his body didn’t know it yet. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t want to stop what was happening. He floated forward, his body sipping oxygen through the oxygen canisters. His lungs were closing up. He was going to die and he couldn’t have felt happier.
Hamish wished he could leave behind a note to his loved ones, to tell them the nightmare events of the past day and why he was taking his own life. Like Dr
. Scott had done.
If only Dr. Scott had told one of the others he’d been infected. If only he hadn’t divulged what he’d discovered to Daniel. If only…
If only.
The current pulled the two bodies faster, stronger. They could have been flying. But at least Dr. Scott had left something behind for his friends and family, had let them know how much he cared for them. The bubbleheads.
The bubbleheads.
Hamish laughed, at first a chuckle, and then uproariously, and when he calmed down, they reverted into tears. Daniel had won. He’d achieved his goal long before they had a chance to stop it. They were merely a Plan B, in case Plan A failed.
The main pursuit should be arriving anytime now.
The current pulled him out to some distant and forgotten shore, where it would be forever warm. He could feel himself arriving there now, the warmth taking his body as his organs shut down and died.
His lips lost their power and the nozzle slipped out from between them. The icy water flooded his body. It no longer felt icy, but warm and soft. It entered his lungs, and he welcomed it. Though he was numb head to foot he felt the cold squeeze what little warmth he had left, at his heart and center.
He felt that part of him that had only recently entered his body, what he considered his own Mr. Hyde, the emptiness of the virus, at his center, clawing at the last of his warmth as it faded away. He heard a low groan, and was surprised to find it coming from his own throat.
For a brief moment he thought perhaps that was all he needed – to feel this death and fear and Mr. Hyde would leave him, but he knew better than that. He’d pushed the time he had as far as he could. All he could do now was hope everything else went to plan.
He was going to be with Kate. He could see her now… Amongst the flashing lights of the moonlight above in the silent night, after a horror storm. She flittered in and out of the curtain of light. He reached for her. He seized her hand just as the water flooded his body.