Extinction Point

by Paul Jones

  Emily examined the rest of her body in the mirror. Scratches and dried blood—both hers and that of the monsters she had killed—covered her hands and face. Just below her left breast was a nasty looking bruise that covered the flat of her abdomen and extended around her side and onto her back. Emily gently probed around the area checking each rib. Nothing was broken, thank God, but it was going to be sore as hell for a while.

  She was tempted to use some of her precious water to clean off; she felt like she hadn’t showered in months. Instead she reverted to her supply of Wet Wipes, spending the next ten minutes gently wiping away the grime and blood, first from her feet, then making her way up her legs and finally her remaining upper half. By the time she was finished she looked almost presentable … she smelled strongly of lemons, but certainly passed for human again.

  Emily had unpacked the first-aid kit from the bergen already. She had a tube of antiseptic cream and some clean gauze ready and waiting. She cleaned the wounds with a couple of iodine soaked pads making sure she pulled out any bits of dirt that had collected in the wound. She twisted the top off the tube of antiseptic cream and applied the pungent smelling cream to her wounds, stretching to reach the furthest hole with the tips of her fingers. The remaining cuts and scratches received similar treatment.

  By the time she finished Emily was beginning to feel a little better. No way was she going to win a beauty pageant anytime soon, but at least she was clean and patched up. The gauze she had intended to cover her injuries wasn’t going to work though, she had no way to reach back there and accurately position it to cover all the wounds, so instead, she opted to simply put on a clean tee-shirt.

  Emily looked down at Thor. The dog was still fast asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace, as though saving a random stranger’s life from alien invaders was something he did every day. She walked over as quietly as she could and knelt down next to the dog. He didn’t open his eyes when she started stroking him along his spine, but his tail beat a gentle rhythm against the hearth of the fireplace and he stretched all four legs out and gave a rumble of contentment.

  “Have I told you what a good boy you are?” she whispered in one cocked ear. His tail beat a little faster as he graciously accepted the praise, but his eyes still stayed closed. She ran her hands down his side and over his flank, searching for the wound she had seen him nibbling at earlier. Her fingers ran across the cut an inch or two below his ribs. She probed around the area as gently as possible; the only indication of discomfort the dog gave was a slowing of his tail wagging. She parted the fur to one side and leaned in to examine the dog’s wound. It looked nasty: a six-inch long tear that, if it had gone any deeper would probably have taken stitches to fix properly. She unscrewed the antiseptic tube and applied some of the cream to her fingers, then, as gently as she could, Emily spread the cream over her new friend’s wound, working it in past the fur until she was sure the entirety of the cut was covered.

  Thor gave a low whimper.

  “Stings, I know,” she said, “but it’s for your own good.” The dog’s tail thumped the floor with renewed vigor. “Okay, big boy,” she said, when she was finished and confident that was the only wound the dog had received during the fight. “How about I fix us some dinner? You hungry, boy?”

  The mention of food seemed to get Thor’s attention because he instantly flipped over onto his front, fixed his eyes on her and let out a half-yawn half-whine that clearly conveyed that he thought food was a really, really good idea.

  “Okay, let’s go see what we can find to eat.”

  Emily pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the pain in her shoulder as the t-shirt rubbed against the cuts on her back. “I think I have something you may like,” she cooed to the dog padding alongside her while she walked over to where she had left the bergen.

  Her poor backpack looked like it had been through a shredder. Several pouches had split open and slashes crisscrossed the back of it where the creature had attacked her. She would deal with that later, what was more important was getting some food inside them both.

  Emily untied the top flap of the pack and rooted around inside until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out the bag of jerky strips.

  “Perfect,” she said. Thor was now sitting obediently next to her staring at the bag in Emily’s hand. She tore the top strip from the bag and instantly smelled the astoundingly delicious aroma of the dried meat. Her stomach began doing cartwheels. Thor began drooling.

  She fed the dog several pieces at a time. He devoured them without even bothering to chew, gulping down six pieces before Emily had even finished one. “Jeez!” she said, laughing as she handed him more of the jerky. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

  That was a good question. There didn’t seem to be any food source around the area for the dog. She hadn’t seen any rabbits or squirrels. In fact, when she thought about it, she hadn’t seen any other life at all. Not even so much as a bee or moth since the red rain first fell.

  “Okay! Okay! Just slow down.”

  They shared the packet of jerky between them, but it was obvious by the time Emily showed Thor the empty bag that neither of them were satiated. “I’ve got an idea,” she said, checking through the bergen again.

  “This should do the trick,” she said, pulling four square cans of corned beef from the pack which she then took into the kitchen.

  She placed the cans on the counter and used the integrated opener to open the first. Thor sat obediently next to her, but he did not take his eyes from the food for one second. In one of the kitchen cabinets she found two soup bowls. She mashed the entire contents of one of the tins of beef and fat into smaller pieces, breaking the meat apart until it became a soft mush and placed it in one of the bowls. The other bowl she filled with water and added a large glass for her.

  “There you go,” she said and placed the two bowls on the floor next to the dog.

  Thor looked at the food then back to Emily then back at the food again. He gave a small whine of frustration. Emily looked at him, confused for a moment before she understood what was wrong: this was a well-trained dog. He was starving but he wasn’t going to touch the food until he was told he could. Like a soldier, he stood obediently waiting for the go-ahead from his new mistress.

  “Eat, you silly dog,” she said and patted him on the head.

  The dog must have been a magician in another life because he made the food disappear in a second. Ignoring the water, Thor stared at the now empty food bowl. He sat back down and looked up at Emily, who had managed barely make a dent in her own dinner in the time it had taken him to devour his in its entirety.

  “Wow,” she said, impressed. “Okay. You get one more can, doggy. I don’t want you being sick.” She picked up the bowl, opened a second can for the dog, and placed it back on the floor. It took just a nod from Emily before he began eating, this time at a slightly more leisurely pace.

  Apparently satisfied with his dinner, Thor took a few deep gulps of water then cleaned the final few morsels of meat from the bowl with his tongue before curling up at Emily’s feet, letting out a contented sigh and closing his eyes once again.

  Emily finished her own meal and washed it down with a few swigs of water from her bottle. Her shoulder hurt sufficiently that she decided it warranted a painkillers that she swallowed with a few more gulps of water. Walking over to the fireplace, she warmed her hands on the orange flames as they danced in the hearth.

  She smothered a yawn with her hand and realized how incredibly exhausted she was. It was definitely time for sleep.

  There was a perfectly serviceable bed in the master bedroom on the second floor, but Emily didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in someone else’s bed. Besides, sleeping next to the light and warmth of the fireplace was far more appealing. She pulled her flashlight from the bergen and climbed the stairs, after telling Thor to stay put.

  In the linen closet on the second floor landing Emily found a spare pillow and a thick
blanket. She took them both downstairs, throwing them on the sofa, then pushed the sofa closer to the fire but not so close that it might singe.

  Emily climbed into her makeshift nest while Thor slowly circled twice around the rug and then curled up with his head resting on one paw between her and the fire, his eyes never leaving his new mistress until they finally closed in sleep.

  Emily Baxter lay silently on the sofa, watching flames dance in the fireplace, basking in the warmth of the fire and the presence of her new friend.

  Within minutes, her eyes closed and she too was asleep.

  * * *

  Emily awoke momentarily in the middle of the night to the sound of Thor whimpering. The fire was still burning brightly enough she could see the dog lying next to the fireplace, sound asleep but obviously dreaming. His legs were jerking uncontrollably, his chest rising and falling in short, rapid bursts, his jaws drawn back in a muffled growl as his head moved up and down as if he was running from something.

  “Shhhhhhhh!” Emily whispered. “It’s okay boy. You’re safe now. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m right here.”

  The sound of her voice seemed to sooth the dog. Emily could see the tension leave his body and his breathing become slow and deep again. “Good boy,” she whispered.

  Her final thought, as she allowed herself to succumb to sleep again, was that she hoped she could follow through with that promise.

  DAY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  * * *

  A thin veil of mist greeted Emily as she examined the world outside the next morning. At least, she had taken it for mist at first, but when she opened the door to let an insistent Thor out to do his morning business, she caught the unmistakable scent of the fire.

  It wasn’t mist, it was smoke!

  During the night, the wind had apparently changed yet again and the fire had caught up with her. Although she could not see any sign of the main fire, judging by the amount of smoke slowly creeping through the trees and past the house, it was a lot closer than she was comfortable with. Emily had hoped to stay another day in the house while she recovered from her battle the but that didn’t look like was an option now. The best thing for her to do was continue north and put as many miles behind her as she could.

  “Well, boy. What do you think?” she asked the Malamute as he returned from watering the nearby hedge. Thor regarded her with his soft eyes, wagging his tail enthusiastically. Emily took it he agreed with her.

  But, before she did anything else, they both needed to eat. For breakfast Emily opened the final can of corned beef and fed it to Thor. She was going to have to track down some real dog food for him soon. Feeding him human food would only upset his stomach and weaken him. The idea of adding a huge bag of kibble to her pack was not an option so she would have to either pick up a supply of canned food or a smaller bag of dried food every couple of days. It was going to be a hassle but it was the very least she could do for the mutt after his brave actions the day before.

  A couple of energy bars satisfied her own hunger, but Emily decided she could afford the extra twenty minutes it would take to boil a mug’s worth of water in a pot over the fireplace. Adding the water to a couple of teaspoonfuls of instant coffee, Emily took a few minutes to gather her thoughts and savor the coffee’s aroma as the warmth of the hot liquid filled her stomach.

  Last night she had been too depleted to even think about calling Jacob and his crew in the Stocktons. She knew they would be concerned about her, so she would need to reach out to them before she left.

  The phone! Emily hadn’t even thought to check whether the phone had been damaged in the fight. She rushed over to the bergen and pulled the satellite phone from where she had stored it. It looked intact but these things were delicate pieces of technology. A bump in the wrong place could easily break it and then what would she do? She extended the antenna and switched the phone on. After a painfully long moment, the phone gave a beep informing her it was booting up.

  Emily let out a sigh of relief as the phone’s display informed her it was ready to make a call. The battery was 96% charged; she would give herself an extra hour later in the day to setup the solar charger and replenish the unit. Emily pressed the redial button. She waited patiently while the phone established a connection with the satellite and for the sound of the phone ringing somewhere on that remote island in northern Alaska.

  The sat-phone picked up on the second ring. “Emily?” Jacob’s voice sounded tired but she could hear concern laced through his voice. His obvious anxiety over her wellbeing gave Emily’s heart a surprising emotional tug and she found herself smiling at his concern for her safety.

  “I’m here, Jacob,” she said. “I’m okay.”

  She spent the next twenty-five minutes talking to Jacob about the events of the previous day. When she explained about the forest and her attackers, he accepted her story without reservation, apparently more fascinated by her description of the creatures than the mortal peril she had been in.

  “Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating,” he said, before sheepishly adding: “Are you alright?”

  Before answering, Emily gave her shoulder a gentle rotation and had to suppress a hiss as she felt pain tear through the injured muscles. “All fine,” she replied. “Nothing more than a scratch.”

  She must have sounded convincing because, for the next ten minutes, Jacob fired question after question at her about the creatures that had attacked her and the strange globes she had seen in the clearing. However, when she mentioned the approaching fire, concern returned to his voice.

  “Em, you need to get out of there as quickly as possible. Uncontrolled fires can spread faster than you can ride and in unexpected directions. You don’t want to get cut off.”

  Emily wondered how a scientist who lived in one of the coldest climates on earth knew anything about brush fires. But he was right, of course, so she reassured Jacob she would be out of there in the next half-an-hour. He relaxed a little but insisted she cut the phone call short and reconnect with him again that evening, after she reached her next stop-off point.

  “Be safe, Emily Baxter,” had been his parting words to her as he hung up from the call.

  “Easier said than done these days,” she told Thor.

  * * *

  Emily climbed the stairs to the second floor of the house and found a west facing window in one of the spare bedrooms. She tried to ignore the pink colored wallpaper and the dolls stacked on one shelf, a forgotten teddy bear propped against a pillow on the child-sized bed.

  From the window, Emily could see out across the edge of town and back in the direction she had travelled the previous day. Rolling waves of battleship-gray smoke covered most of the area, pushed along by a light breeze towards whatever this town was called. At their furthest edge—Emily estimated that to be about three miles or so—she could see a partition of flame moving within the smoky shroud.

  The wind was gradually pushing the fire closer to the house and she expected the quaint home, along with the surrounding neighborhood she had taken shelter in to be little more than ashes by this same time tomorrow morning. For now though, she was in no immediate danger. As long as she kept her word to Jacob and left soon she felt confident she could quickly outdistance the fire.

  Emily made her way back down the stairs and readied the backpack, repacking the few things she had used the previous night. A quick reconnoiter of the kitchen cupboards turned up two more cans of soup, a can of green peas and a jar of hearts of palm. Emily added them to her stock. She also decided to keep the blanket she had found. She rolled it up and tied it off with a piece of string she found in a drawer before securing the blanket to the bottom of the bergen using the two loops there.

  “Okay, doggy,” she said to Thor, as she gingerly pulled the bergen up onto her shoulders and gave one final look around the living room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “Let’s go.”

  Once outside, Emily could see the
smoke had already grown thicker. It collected in the street and seemed to cling to the air, refusing to move. Emily coughed as she inhaled the smoke and Thor gave a couple of snorts then sneezed loudly, shaking his head and spraying drool in all directions. She pulled the bike from the hedge where she had left it, wiping a sheen of dew from the seat; the last thing she needed to start her day was a soggy butt. The bike’s metal frame was cold against her hands.

  Emily wheeled the bike down to the main road, mounted and began pedaling along the small side street until she hit the main road. Making a right at the junction Emily began riding away from town, north towards her future.