Entity

by Donald Morrison

  With a hiss the door slid back and something moved within. Baker leveled his rifle, watching as a small object slowly rolled out and started down the incline between them. In the same moment, he realized what it was, and where the blood had come from.

  Just inside the door was the decapitated body of a young boy. The sergeant stared as the child’s head rolled down the incline, bouncing slightly as the uneven shape went past. The flesh covered skull rolled to the end of the short hallway, coming to a rest with a soft thump against the small desk that separated the comms hallway with the entrance to administration. Cold realization warped through the hall.

  The unit held their gaze, all eyes locked to the dull grey face peering lifelessly back through blank eyes, one of which had rolled back to white in the skull. No one spoke, and for a brief instant, all of them felt the enormity of their situation tightening around them.

  Dom ripped his eyes from the dead boy’s gaze and slowly brought his gun to bear inside the corridor leading to security. “Clear,” he whispered, swallowing hard against the bile building in his throat. Whatever creature he had envisioned was no longer there, only an empty corridor with a single light flickering dimly at the end. He hadn’t been ready for that, and he knew it would be quite a while until his hands stopped shaking.

  The unit moved forward, the rest of them averting their gazes as they stepped around the small corpse on the floor. Part of them held their distance as they passed out of respect, but mostly for fear. The feeling one of the tiny, dead arms would reach out to grasp their ankles forced them to give a wide berth.

  Baker watched as his men stepped carefully around the body. He knew this was something he was never going to forget, something that would haunt him for as long as breath moved through his lungs. It would be there when he lay down for bed, or passed out on one of the benders he guaranteed himself he was going to have once he got back. He also knew that some of his unit would never be the same. He knew well what seeing things like this could do to a person, the things that happen to a man mentally when they realize the full capacity for human violence and depravity. He could already see it creeping through their eyes. For some of them, this would be their last trip out. Transfers to different units would be coming, that he knew, and where he would normally feel betrayed, hurt by their leaving, this time he couldn’t blame them. They’d be stupid not to.

  The group went a short ways ahead before they saw the sign that read security. Just outside the door was another body; a security officer still in uniform. The man’s sidearm lay a few feet away and Baker could see instantly that the gun’s slide had jammed. Across the hall was another, this one lying on its back with six gunshots perforating its chest. The man against the wall sat sprawled out, his head hanging at a strange angle, loose and off centered. As he neared he could see that the guard’s neck had been snapped, the force of it nearly wrenching the head free from the shoulders.

  As they got closer Fascio reached down and pulled a pack of cigarettes that were sticking out of the guards vest pocket free. He looked at the man’s face for a moment before reaching down and shutting the eyes. Then he rose to his feet.

  “I thought you quit,” Vuong said as Fascio turned the pack over in his hands.

  Fascio turned his head. His gaze blank beneath pale skin, an ivory contrasted to the usual pink and red it held. He stared at Vuong for a moment before sliding the pack into the pocket of his envirosuit and turning to make his way next to the room.

  “That hallway there,” Vuong said, pointing a little ways down the corridor they were in. “It’ll lead you through central housing. Follow the hallway until it curves to the right, and medical will be the first door on your left. There should be signs. I’m sure you won’t miss it.”

  “Let me know the moment you find something out,” Baker added.

  “Rah,” Dom replied flatly, nodding to Lanskey, who turned to follow him.

  Baker watched the pair depart, a tingling creeping up his spine, radiating outwards like a pair of rotted wings crawling across his back as he told himself that the two would be fine. He took a deep breath, watching as they disappeared out of view further down the hall. Another mistake.

  “All right Vuong, let’s see what we can find.”

  As the men entered the first thing they noticed was the bullet holes that riddled the curved hallway leading to the small reception area. Wilkes took point, his rifle at the ready. He realized immediately that it had been a one sided firefight. The wall near the entrance was pockmarked beyond recognition, but the rest of the room was clean. Whoever had been firing was trying to keep someone or something out. He made his way further in and stopped just inside. On his right was a small security post, spider webbed lexan glass, cubing in a small security console. The inside was empty, but he quickly noticed the door had been yanked clear of the jam; splinters of wood and twisted metal sticking outwards where the handle touched the wall. “Clear,” he called out as the others cautiously made their way in. It had taken an immense amount of force to yank it clear, and for a brief second, he found himself grateful that he had not been there when it happened.

  Behind them the station had begun to come back to life. Metal creaked and groaned as the cold dissipated and the entire structure expanded. There were loud cracks snapping around them and down the long corridors. It sounded as though the entire facility was slowly being wrenched apart.

  “We need something to get through that door,” Talmadge said, noticing that the door to the security room was still sealed, and deciding to make himself useful. If he wanted to get what he needed, he at least had to lower their hatred of him, or at least do something to help them forget it temporarily.

  “I have a better idea,” Baker said, turning to glance at Wilkes. “Torch’ll cut through that right?”

  Wilkes nodded, pulling out the small device and stepping to the tiny booth. He fired up the torch and slowly cut his way through the shatterproof glass. The material popped and hissed as small beads of molten glass dripped to the floor below. A thin stream of acrid smoke rose up to hover across the ceiling for a moment before being wisped away into the ventilation duct. When he’d cut a circle big enough for his arm to fit, he reached through and engaged the switch that unlocked the reinforced door to the security room. Behind him Baker waited, his gaze locked to the steel door blocking their way. Inwardly, a small part of him hoped the door wouldn’t open. As the room crackled with bluish-white light he realized he didn’t have much desire to find out what had truly happened. It was his job, and by protocol he needed to find out, but deep down, he begged for an excuse to just go back to the ship, lift off and file a report back home. ‘This is the trip,’ he whispered silently to himself.

  The door popped free, the small light on the handle turning green.

  Baker signaled Fascio who moved forward to open the door. He gently pushed it inwards, his pistol drawn before stepping in. The back wall to the room was lined with dozens of monitors. In front of them was a single chair, a body slouched over in it. On the floor next to the chair was a pistol, and he could see by the splatter hanging from the ceiling what had happened without even looking.

  “Get that cleared up,” Baker snapped, turning to Vuong. “I want eyes on this facility, like yesterday.”

  “Roger that Sarge,” he replied, waiting for Mills and Fascio to finish rolling the chair with the corpse in it out of the room.

  ‘What in the hell happened here..?’

  As soon as the body was out of the way Vuong moved to the console, hitting a series of switches which brought it to life.

  A few minutes later Vuong turned to Sarge. “I can get in, but it’s gonna take some time to figure out where everything is. This systems a mess. Whoever used it last, encrypted half the files, and system’s completely out of whack. I need to realign surveillance, patch back into the optical network and access the drive files before I can even start looking. That’s gonna take me some time.”

  Baker nodded, movin
g aside as Fascio returned the chair to the console, a thin fabric covering the burgundy stain beneath.

  “Roger that. You stay here and work on getting that sorted out. The rest of you are on me. And Vuong, you let me know the moment you find anything useful.”

  “Will do,” Vuong replied as the others turned to make their way out. “And Sarge.”

  “What is it Corporal?”

  “Feel free to lock the door on your way out.”

  Baker nodded, turning to follow the others back into the hallway.

  As the door closed behind them Vuong pulled his pistol and set it on the console in front of him. Almost instantly the walls began to press in on him, and the hidden eyes in the dark corners began to stare. “All right then. Let’s see what we got.”

  9

  The squad made their way down and across the corridor to the hallway leading to central housing. As they neared got closer, Fascio crackled across the comms. “You know. I’ve had this really fucked up feeling since the moment we arrived. I don’t exactly know how to explain it, but it feels like something’s watching us, waiting to jump out and tear us apart. Like this whole station’s just been waiting for us to let down our guard.”

  “Well you can keep that shit to yourself Fascio. None of us need to be hearing that right now. I don’t do supernatural, so you can just pack that right away.”

  “Just saying Sarge.”

  “Yeah,” Wilkes added. “It’s like the place is analyzing us; the shadows, the darkness, everything.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Fascio replied quickly. “Something’s not right here.”

  “No shit Marine,” Baker replied, glancing at a man lying face down with a knife handle sticking out of his back. “I didn’t notice that. Thank you for enlightening me of our current situation.”

  “I think it has something to do with whatever it was they found out there.”

  “And again, Corporal, you aren’t paid to think, so keep that shit to yourself.”

  “Just saying.”

  “Well don’t.”

  “This is housing,” Talmadge clicked in as the group passed the first of the units. “We have space for forty-five families to live comfortably—”

  “Don’t start with that shit again Talmadge!” Baker barked, cutting him off mid breath. “So far all we’ve seen are bodies, so there aren’t no fucking families up here. There’s no smiles, no laughter, no happy bouncing babies. What you have, is a station full of dead colonists. That’s what you have.”

  “Sarge…”

  Baker stopped, turning to look at Fascio, who stood staring into one of the housing units just ahead.

  “Look.”

  The sergeant stepped forward, peering into the doorway that led to one of the housing units. There was a dim light flickering from deeper inside; shadows dancing across the inner hall from a room beyond.

  “Pie it,” Baker said, glancing both directions before looking back to the marine who slung his rifle and had already leveled his pistol.

  Fascio made his way in, Mills entering close behind. He crept delicately down the hall, ignoring the pictures that hung, portraits of a young couple standing happy against the red planet’s backdrop. He made his way to the first door and slowly opened it, his pistol taking the lead. Inside was a small bedroom, a handful of toys scattered along the floor and a tiny bed draped in a cartoon character blanket. He felt his chest tighten ever so slight as he gave it a quick sweep and moved further in. Seeing dead adults didn’t sit well with him, but the children… Children held a special place of sadness in his chest. As he got closer to the illuminated doorway he entered into what was a small dining area. There was a wooden table set with three chairs around it and a final meal laid out across it. The trays of food sat untouched, moist, covered in rot and melting mold. Food had been served and he could see that a family had just sat down for a meal, but never got the chance to consume it. He turned to continue further in when a small stain on the floor caught his eye, followed by another. Leading further into the unit was a small trail of blood that built with each step he went deeper within, the droplets growing to splatter and the splatter growing to pools. He approached the flashing doorway and peered cautiously around, Wilkes standing ready just behind him. Inside he was greeted by an empty bedroom, the flashing light coming from a small holographic picture sitting atop a bedside table. He approached slowly, the flickering of the light disorienting his vision for the blink of a moment. Then he saw the trail continue into a small room off to the side. As he stepped towards it Mills glanced at the flashing picture. Now there was another addition to the family; a young boy. Fascio walked towards the small room and stopped when he reached the door. He could feel his stomach drop as he peered in, his pulse beginning to pound heavy in his ears. Just inside was a small bathroom.

  Propped against the company issue bathtub was the corpse of a younger man. He held a straight razor in one hand and at a glance Fascio could see where the man had slashed his wrist multiple times, severing to the bone on both arms. Face up in the bathtub was the body of the young boy, dark purple lines around his tiny throat, entombed in slowly melting ice. Fascio felt his breath stop and his legs became weak. His head was spinning and he was struggling against the vertigo that yanked him towards the floor. He had seen his fair share of fucked up things; time in the federation would do that, especially during the theater of war. But what lay before him, encased against the frozen ceramic, it pierced deeper than anything he had seen before. How could anyone do something like that to their child…

  He turned slowly, putting his hand on Wilkes’ chest and shook his head to the side. There was no need for both of them to have to carry what he now would. No need for anyone else to ever see that. So as he stepped out of the room he pulled the door closed behind him and followed Wilkes out, leaving the visceral pain to ebb in the confines of the sealed unit.

  “Anything?” Baker asked as the pair exited the unit.

  Fascio shook his head to the side, allowing his eyes to tell Sarge everything. There was nothing alive.

  “Alright. Let’s keep moving.”

  They continued on, passing more derelict apartments, all gazes falling to a door that was broken inwards, splintered and cracked with a man lying face down just inside, a fire axe buried deep in his back. The weight around them pressed in even heavier.

  The facility had begun to come more and more alive around them; a loose cable hanging from the ceiling ahead sparking as electricity now flowed back through the complex. Metal groaned as the atmosphere continued to bend and stretch the steel framing, and blood, frozen in place prior, had begun to liquefy and congeal. Outside their envirosuits the metallic smell of death began to waft into the air, rising upwards like a cloud of sulfur as the facility began to rot around them, festering as the reintroduction of oxygen allowed life to continue its natural course of decay.

  “That leads to medical,” Talmadge said as they exited housing into the main corridor that snaked through the complex. He started to tell them how their medical facility had state of the art equipment, some of which wasn’t even available on earth yet, but closed his mouth as the words began to form. He took a deep breath, staring at the sergeant’s back as they started towards the med wing. He forced himself to keep it cool. He’d already drafted every report and statement in his head and even sat through the imaginary hearing that would strip the man of his rank under dereliction of duty and a number of other violations. He had seen the faces of the council as they read him his sentence, faces he knew well, smiles he had shared many company fundraisers with. Inwardly he grinned, a ripple of excitement flashing through him. The sergeant thought he was in command, but so had many others before him, others that had built the steps he had used to climb higher.

  Steam vented downwards from the ceiling as they walked through the doorway leading to the medical wing. It fell like a clouded mist, trailing down the wall and dissipating just before hitting the floor where it w
as quickly sucked in by an intake duct at the base of the wall. Overhead, lights flickered lightly, the darkness of the facility phasing in and out, a pulsing heartbeat that struggled to hold the crushing shadows at bay.

  As they entered into the main hall their eyes fell to a neatly organized row of black plastic bags, each sticking out of the wall on both sides, lined from one end to the other, some stacked two high further down.

  “How many died before all this went down?” Wilkes asked as he subconsciously counted the body bags they passed.

  Baker ignored the question, his eyes scanning the light grey surface of the hallway ahead. He could see a command module with a lightly lit panel behind it; a nurse’s station abandoned by everything but a leaning stack of file folders and medical supplies. There were a series of lights along the console that flickered orange and red in the dark, casting a flame-like illumination overhead.

  As they made their way further they could see signs of a firefight that had occurred; bullet holes pockmarking the walls and a pile of bodies at the end of a short hall they passed; all wearing medical lab coats, a ruffled pile of red stained white. As they passed the nurse’s station Baker held up his hand. His eyes scanned both hallways that led off in different directions. The signs overhead read Surgery-Observation-Morgue, and the one leading the opposite direction; Nursing-Administration-Pediatrics.

  He felt a shudder run through him as his eyes fell to the first sign. He exhaled softly, a silent scoff stifled within. ‘This entire station’s a morgue…’

  “The medical director’s office is in administration,” Talmadge said after a moment, his voice startling the others who stood silently behind.

  “Then we go that way,” Baker said, glancing one last time at the other sign, a small relief washing through him that they didn’t have to see what was down that hall.

  He turned and started towards admin, glancing quickly at the stack of files on the desk and the dozens of names sticking out in colored tape from the flaps. All those names were now dead. Everything was dead, except for them.