by Kevin George
“It’s too late!” Carla called out as she was pushed toward the empty spot where the Jonas ISU disappeared. “None of us will see Horace again.”
“How can you know that?” someone yelled.
“He told me he wasn’t coming back up,” she said. “Not now, not ever.”
Carla was pushed so hard that she fell, her face planting into the snow. She stood with tears in her eyes but refused to wipe away the snow. Instead, she sneered at each and every person, knowing there wasn’t a single villager—except for her mother—that she’d ever trust again.
“He’ll come back for you, especially when he sees you in trouble,” someone said.
“Leave her alone,” a young man said, emerging from the crowd. The name Adam rang a bell in her mind, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to him. “She’s one of us.”
Carla nodded her thanks and turned to the empty space where the Jonas ISU had just been, wondering if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life by letting Horace go. She sensed the crowd descending on her, but made no attempt to run or elude them. As several hands reached out to grab her, one voice suddenly called out louder than the others, a voice that screamed a short message filled with hope.
“They’re here!” Adam yelled.
Carla watched the crowd turn in unison and heard dozens of simultaneous gasps. A large snow vehicle appeared through the dusty snow hanging in the air. Villagers cried out that it must be from The Mountain, but excitement eventually turned to anger. Carla listened to the others preparing an attack against whoever was driving their way. With a final look toward the ISU covering, Carla sighed and hurried behind the group, reaching them near the outskirts of the village, where the vehicle came to a stop.
The crowd’s accusing screams were mostly incoherent. Carla wasn’t surprised when villagers picked up snowballs and threw them at the vehicle. Carla forced her way through the pack, being jostled about as she went, finally ending up near the front. She held up her hands and pleaded with the villagers to stop. A few snowballs were aimed toward her, but it wasn’t until the vehicle’s doors opened and a few armed Mountain guards emerged that the villagers stepped back.
“Please,” Carla begged the guards. “We don’t mean any—”
“Calm down and step back now,” one of the guards snapped, raising his gun inches from Carla’s face. Carla scurried back so quickly that she tripped. “We are here to help, but that doesn’t mean we have to help everyone.”
When the crowd continued to scream accusations—about The Mountain not caring, about The Mountain waiting too long to help, about The Mountain not caring that other villagers died—several guards stepped forward and fired warning shots into the sky. For a moment, the warnings worked and the crowd quieted. But the villagers’ ensuing screams were louder and more incensed, to the point where Carla no longer wasted her breath trying to calm them. She melted deeper into the crowd, hoping to avoid the violence that seemed inevitable.
“Stop!”
The voice was louder than all others and immediately quieted the villagers. Carla craned her neck to see another Mountainer—this man smaller and less intimidating than the guards, without a weapon in hand—standing in the doorway of the large vehicle, holding his hands up for all to see. Carla recognized him right away. She stared at the man’s face, realizing that she’d seen the younger version of that face countless times over the last few years, a thought that filled her with regret and sadness. Even as whispers of the man’s name circulated among the crowd, Carla glanced back at the empty spot where Horace’s ISU had lowered into the ground.
“Samuel Jonas!”
“That’s Samuel Jonas! He’s too late to get his son!”
Samuel hopped down from the vehicle and approached the crowd, ordering his guards to lower their weapons and step back.
“You’re too late!” yelled someone in the crowd. “Your coward son is already hiding underground!”
“I’m not here for Horace,” Samuel told them. “I’m here for each and every one of you.”
“Are you taking us into The Mountain?” another voice called out.
Samuel shook his head, causing a wave of murmurs to crash through the crowd, which started to surge forward again.
“However,” Samuel called out, “I have come with the answer we’ve been promising for years. We understand freezing temperatures have been the biggest threat for inhabitants of ISU-Ville, so our top scientists have come up with the answer to combat that issue.”
Samuel lifted his right hand for all to see. Carla shifted where she stood until spotting something green in the Jonas leader’s hand.
“What is it?” someone asked.
“It’s called the Hybrid Blast,” Samuel explained as silence fell over the crowd. “With a single injection, your DNA will become spliced with polar bear DNA, allowing your body composition to change and become more adept at dealing with cold weather. This new Ice Age is hitting the world faster and harder than experts first thought. We no longer believe humans will be capable of surviving on the surface—or even in The Mountain—without an extreme change themselves. Accepting this injection will save your lives, though it won’t come without noticeable changes to your bodies. I want to be completely up front with you before you decide to take part.”
“If that’s the case, why would you want to inject us? Why would we trust you to do that?” a villager asked. “Why not just let us into The Mountain?”
Cries of agreement swept through the crowd.
“I wish it could be that easy,” Samuel Jonas said with a frown. “Unfortunately, there’s not room inside The Mountain for all of you. If all of us—villager and Mountainer alike—hope to survive and thrive in the future, we all need to adapt and make certain changes.”
“Maybe we’ll follow you and find out for ourselves if The Mountain can’t fit us,” another villager cried.
Samuel chuckled. “You might not believe it, but I can’t guarantee access to The Mountain will be granted to me upon my return. I came here to deliver the Blast at great personal risk, but it was a chance I needed to take, not just for me but for every single one of you. At this point, you have two options: change and survive, or remain the same and perish. That’s a decision you’ll all have to make.”
Villagers looked to one another before Carla made her way to the front. Others quickly fell in line behind her.
“You’re very brave,” Samuel said as he handed over a syringe filled with green liquid.
Carla nodded. “Horace is on his way back to The Mountain,” she whispered as she took the syringe, heading toward her mother’s ISU without waiting for another word from the Jonas leader.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Moretti’s jaw remained clenched and his mouth closed as the elevator slowed to a stop. The door slid open and the head of security gestured for Samuel Jonas to step out, as if he had any doubt as to where he was being brought. Samuel still wore his heavy parka, the snow not yet completely melted from the outside world. Though he smiled confidently—defiantly—Samuel’s belly did flips and his mind felt a strange sense of disconnect from the rest of his body.
Moretti stopped him and pointed to the boardroom. Samuel took a deep breath and pushed open the door, watching every member of The Board turn toward him in unison. Samuel stopped and slammed the door behind him.
“How dare you have security apprehend me upon my return,” he growled at them, stomping across the room until reaching the head of the large table. “This Mountain is mine, the village is mine, the City Below is mine. Without the Jonas family, none of this would—”
“Was,” Martin LeRoque said calmly.
All eyes shifted to The Board’s leader, who appeared bored by Samuel’s outburst.
“Excuse me?” Samuel asked.
“Everything belonging to One Corp. was yours, but no longer. I thought you were smart enough—that we could be civil enough—not to have to state that fact aloud, but here we are. You a
re a member of this Board and therefore have as much say in Mountain decisions as the rest of us. No more, no less. The sooner you accept that, the likelier you’ll be to keep your spot in The Mountain.”
Samuel lay his hands on the table and leaned forward. He sensed several Board members leaning back in their chairs, but Martin remained staring at him, expressionless.
“Are you threatening me?” Samuel asked.
“You’re lucky we let you back into The Mountain,” Betty Van Horn snapped. “And we’re to understand that you used our entire stock of Blast on the villagers?”
“I did,” Samuel said with a satisfied grin, standing up straighter.
“The stock that we were so careful to hide from your father?” asked another member.
“The Blast we were keeping as a backup plan in case The Mountain suffered any failures like those in the village?” asked yet another.
Samuel glanced toward the empty corner where Weller usually stood. As disgusted as the doctor now made him—especially as he wondered what Weller might be doing to his poor test subjects in the lab—he missed having someone on his side in the boardroom. Even those Board members that usually sat back and stayed quiet were staring daggers at Samuel, making it clear that his attempt to show true leadership hadn’t impressed them.
“The Hybrid Blast was mine to do with as I—”
“Such a subversion of this Board would have led to any one of us being kicked out of this room forever, possibly out of The Mountain,” Betty argued, leading to a table full of nods. “I propose Samuel Jonas to be punished to avoid a situation like this happening in the future.”
“And what authority do any of you have to—”
“I second that motion,” another Board member said.
“Should we put this to a vote?” Martin asked, raising his hand.
Martin looked to the man sitting next to him, who also raised his hand. The Board went around in a circle, each of them taking turns voting against Samuel, who did not see a moment of hesitation among any of them. Samuel sighed, lowering his head.
“Can’t you see how vital it is to focus on humankind beyond the walls of The Mountain?” he asked. “I’ve made the mistake of isolationism in the past, but what kind of world will be left for us if we don’t try to protect other parts of it? My father came to the same realization later in life, which was why he was so focused on survival beyond One Corp.’s lands.”
The boardroom’s door creaked open and Weller slinked into the room. His presence immediately lifted Samuel’s spirits.
“Weren’t you the one who shut down the Communications Center after your father’s passing?” Martin asked.
Samuel nodded slowly, grimacing. “I don’t know why I ever questioned my father’s instincts; those instincts are why we’re all sitting here today,” he said. “After my experience helping the villagers—after witnessing how impossible their lives have become—I realized how much of a difference I can make. . . how much of a difference we could make if we stop worrying only about ourselves. My father was adamant about working together with other survival arks around the world, several projects that might allow other humans to avoid icy deaths. I’ve been reconsidering my decision to close the Comm Center and wonder if we should reestablish contact with the—”
“Enough!” Martin snapped. “The Comm Center will stay closed. Let the record state that every member of The Board has voted ‘aye’ in regards to punishment for Samuel Jonas. Dr. Weller, you told security that Mr. Jonas broke into your lab to steal the Blast?”
Weller looked to Samuel, staring him directly in the eyes. He nodded.
“And do you agree with our decision to punish those actions?”
“Sam’s decision—and the way he followed through with that decision—may have been. . . unconventional,” Dr. Weller said. “But in hindsight, it was a great move for everyone in The Mountain.”
“How so?” Betty Van Horn asked with a snort and a roll of the eyes. “Whether the villagers made it here or not, there was no way they’d be a threat to us.”
“We kept the Hybrid Blast as a backup plan, but I’ll be the first to admit that our limited human testing phase was insufficient. I’m hopeful I made the proper adjustments—that I diluted the Blast with an increase of human DNA—to curb the harshest animalistic tendencies of those injected, but having a large sample size to study the Blast’s long-term effects will prove vital, not just for the future of the Hybrid Blast but also for the Aviary.”
“Have human trials for the Aviary proceeded as expected?” Martin asked.
Weller frowned. Had Samuel not known the truth, he may have been convinced by the doctor’s performance.
“We had high hopes for the Aviary—and I still do—but progress has been. . . slow,” Weller said, throwing a glance in Samuel’s direction. “I’ve only injected a single patient thus far and the transformation has been underwhelming. On the off chance the Hybrid Blast ends up our best option, this large-scale testing will ensure we won’t need to risk testing anyone from The Mountain. As I continue my Aviary research and we study Blasted changes to the villagers, we’ll have more information than I ever imagined to make informed decisions for humankind’s next evolutionary step.”
The Board watched Weller with wide eyes, hanging on his every word, each member—Martin and Betty included—nodding in agreement. When Dr. Weller was finished, all eyes returned to Samuel, who couldn’t figure out whether he was lucky or frightened to have the doctor on his side.
“Was this your plan all along, Samuel?” Betty asked.
“Of course it wasn’t,” Martin interceded. “He’s obviously trying to defy The Board’s voting process to prove to himself that—”
“Let him answer, Martin,” said Jason Nickal, the youngest Board member, who rarely spoke at these meetings.
Samuel imagined his father smacking the table and snapping at his underlings, making them understand that he was in charge and his actions didn’t require explanation. As desperately as he wanted to speak those words, he was terrified they’d fall upon deaf ears and The Board’s punishment would strip him of everything. Weller seemed to be on his side, but he wouldn’t put it past the good doctor to use him as a human test subject if that was what Martin LeRoque and Betty Van Horn ordered. . .
“I didn’t know how so many people would handle the Blast,” Samuel said. “Dr. Weller explained that even the healthiest, strongest villagers could react poorly to it, that their bodies could reject it. I knew we needed more research, but I didn’t want to force all of you to vote for more human testing. I took that decision upon myself for the betterment of The Board and for those of us left in The Mountain.”
Martin snorted and shook his head, but the rest of The Board nodded approvingly. Even Betty Van Horn—after a quick glance to see the general feeling of the group—clapped her hands a single time and apologized on behalf of the group for doubting him.
“You should’ve just told us your plans from the beginning,” Betty said. “Next time, don’t be so secretive and we can avoid this confusion.”
“I think there’s another point to be made—”
“What Samuel is trying to say,” Weller interrupted, “is that scientific decisions aren’t always best made as a—”
A knock on the door cut Weller short. Moretti burst into the room, his face red and his eyes narrowed on Samuel.
“There’s been a breach on the lowest level!”
Board members leapt to their feet.
“The Blasteds got in?” Betty asked in a panic before spinning toward Weller. “You assured us they wouldn’t be as wild and violent as the first test subject was.”
“The Mountain is supposed to be impenetrable,” Martin snapped. “How could anyone break in from outside?”
“They didn’t,” Moretti said. “And it wasn’t one of those. . . beasts. The breach didn’t come from outside. It came from the tunnel beneath the hangar.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
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nbsp; A single lightbulb hung above Horace. It flickered every few seconds, casting eerie shadows in the darkened corners of the supply room in which he now found himself. ISU-Ville had been a prison in its own way, but Horace now knew what it was truly like to be held captive.
Did I make a mistake coming back?
The thought had been with him the moment he emerged from the tunnel leading into The Mountain’s massive lower level hangar. He’d nearly turned back to return to the Jonas ISU, the villagers opinion of him be damned. Maybe they would’ve gotten over their anger with him. . . maybe Carla would’ve forgiven him. . .
But he’d no sooner stepped into the hangar when Clang, the guard assigned to the bowels of The Mountain, had spotted him. Horace had tried explaining who he was—tried reminding Clang that he’d driven him to ISU-Ville years ago—but the guard had been on edge, unwilling to listen to a word Horace said.
“Your kind isn’t supposed to be here,” Clang had yelled, dragging Horace across the hangar. “None of you were supposed to come back. Didn’t your body change like the others injected?”
Horace hadn’t known what he was talking about and still couldn’t figure it out now. After being led through the hangar—where he saw several large vehicles without tarps and covered in fresh snow—Horace was forced into the small supply room without being told what would become of him. He’d banged on the door for several minutes but eventually gave up, sitting on the floor in the dim room, left to ponder in silence if he’d made the wrong choice in returning to The Mountain.
The wrong choice in leaving Carla. . .
The image of Carla rushing toward the angry mob still filled his mind, as did the shame he felt for running the other way. She’d insisted on helping, a decision Horace thought about from the moment he pushed the button to lower his ISU beneath the ground. At first, he’d thought Carla’s help was her way of saving goodbye forever. But during his long hours traveling the darkened tunnel leading to The Mountain, he wondered if she’d wanted him to survive so badly because she knew she’d forgive him one day, knew they’d end up together once the villagers’ anger with him died down.