The large geologist looked sceptical. “I’m not exactly Arnold Schwarzenegger.”
“No, but you’re big, and Cameron’s gotta be the least fit guy I ever laid my eyes on. I’ll grab weapons.”
“Hold fire, hold your fire!” shouted Anna, slapping her fist against the table. “I give the orders here, not you, Harper. You two have already been bitten, and we don’t know if it’s possible that you might have a relapse of some kind, so we split the groups up. You and I will go and sort out Cameron’s little drilling operation. Kurt and Jazmin can go and get on the radio, and get a message through to Icecap. We need their big guns. I don’t know what they have at their disposal, but we either need help, or we need to get out of here as soon as possible. Understood?”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” said Kurt. “Is the radio tuned in already? Again, it’s not really my forte. I was just here to analyse the rocks, you see…”
“No, but there’s a print out of the main frequencies pinned to the wall just above it. You should be able to piece it together from there.”
Kurt nodded his understanding, and gestured for Jazmin to follow him up to Captain Anna’s office.
“Yo, Jazmin!” called Betty. Jazmin turned back and caught the pack of cigarettes the engineer threw her. “Just in case it’s a while before you see me again.”
“Meet back here?” asked Jazmin.
Anna nodded. “It’s where the Twinkies and the Street Fighter machine is. Where else would I be?”
Jazmin flashed a smile at them, and then hurried after Kurt.
Once the door had banged shut, Anna flashed a mischievous smile at Betty. “You are sweet on her.”
“Oh, please. She’s about ten years younger than me.”
“Still…”
Betty ignored her and rummaged in the kitchen area. She pulled out several meat knives and cleavers and lay them on the counter.
“Betty, this seems a little extreme. I don’t want to end up knifing Cameron.”
“Don’t you? Really?”
“Well, there have been times that I’ve considered it, but the jail time puts me off.”
“The knives aren’t for Cam, Claire and whoever else. They’re for our arthropod friends.”
Anna looked confused. “So, what do we do about the crew that have been compromised?”
Betty placed a crème brûlée blowtorch on the countertop with a thud. She flicked the igniter a few times, and smiled when an inch of blue flame hissed out.
“If a little burn from a radiator worked on me, and cigarette burns woke everyone else, I think it’s safe to say Cameron can take a swipe from this.”
Anna took the torch which a chuckle. “You’re a bad influence on me, Betty Harper.”
“I’m a bad influence on everybody.”
SIXTEEN
Kurt and Jazmin dashed into Captain Anna’s office and Kurt quickly dashed off all the paperwork and discarded coffee cups that had accumulated in front of the radio transmitter. Truth be told, Kurt didn’t think that the radio had been used in all the time he’d been there. These days the scheduled arrivals and departures on the Black Hawk were arranged weeks or months in advance, by e-mail. The thick layer of dust on the radio’s microphone was a testament to the equipment’s obsolescence.
Jazmin looked aghast at the antique equipment before her. “How the hell do we even get this to work?”
Kurt hit the main power switch and the radio crackled into life. He jabbed a finger at a laminated piece of paper pinned to the wall above it. “The Captain said that the frequencies are all up here. We should just be able to dial in, transmit a message and – hopefully - the Icecap base at McMurdo should pick us up.”
Jazmin nodded. “Okay…give it a try.”
Kurt dialled in the correct frequency, grabbed the handset and pressed the main “talk” button. “Tempest Outpost, Tempest Outpost, Icecap McMurdo, over.”
Static greeted them. “Tempest Outpost, Tempest Outpost, Icecap McMurdo. Over.”
Jazmin’s heart leapt when after what seemed like an hour, a crackly voice at the other end responded. “Icecap McMurdo receiving. Over.”
“This is Doctor Kurt Townsend, we require assistance. Over.”
“Acknowledged, Tempest Outpost. What can we do for you? Over.”
Kurt turned to Jazmin. “What do we tell them?”
Jazmin didn’t know what to say. “Uh…can’t we just tell them the truth?”
“Tell them that we dug up some fossils that turned out to be scientifically impossible tarantulas and that they have telepathic powers?”
“Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds silly.”
The radio crackled again. “Are you receiving, Tempest Outpost? What can we do for you? Over.”
Kurt depressed the talk button. “Affirmative, Icecap McMurdo. Stand-by. Over.”
Jazmin tapped him on the arm. “Tell them we have a serious problem in the boiler room, and one man is injured. They’ll have to send people – engineers and medical. To be honest, I don’t care if they’re nuns! We just need more people.”
Kurt nodded. He turned back to grab the handset and let out a strangled cry as he saw the tarantula that now squatted atop it. Its front legs flew up and its teeth opened wide in a display of aggression. Kurt fell backwards crushing the chair beneath him. Jazmin looked around the table in desperation, looking for a weapon, something heavy she could crush it with. The tarantula, seeming to sense her panic tensed its back legs and leapt forward.
At the last moment, she grabbed hold of a sheaf of papers, and held it up like a shield. The spider landed full force on it, and hurriedly clambered up. She screamed as she saw the long, pale legs creep over the top of the paper, dropping it in revulsion. Before she could stamp on it, the spider scurried out and up the wall. It turned rapidly and leapt back towards her.
From out of nowhere, Kurt stepped between them, a piece of the broken chair held like a baseball bat in his hands. He swung and missed, and the spider instead landed on his chest. He brushed at it, panicked, trying to get it off, but it dodged all his attempts.
“Jazmin! Help!”
Suddenly, the spider pulled its abdomen upwards like a scorpion’s tail, and an inch long barb shot out, like a wasp’s stinger from hell. The spider hissed and thrust downwards, the barb stabbing deep into Kurt’s stomach. He screamed, and Jazmin joined him.
Kurt dropped to his knees, and the spider stabbed him twice more before dropping to the floor and making another aggressive display at Jazmin. Jazmin stepped backwards, her eyes flying to Kurt. Kurt let out a low groaning noise that faded away to nothing, then fell sideways onto the floor, dead.
The spider hissed at Jazmin once more, and she bolted from the room, locked the door behind her, and ran for the canteen.
***
Anna knew that the door to the control room would be locked, but she felt a need to try it anyway. She cursed under her breath and banged on it hard, shouting to be heard over the industrial noise of the Prospero burrowing beneath them. “Cameron? Open up, it’s the Captain.”
The door unlocked with a click and slowly opened to reveal the pale and disheveled face of Claire, peering through a small gap. “Yes, Captain?”
“And where the hell have you been? You know we’ve had search parties out looking for you? What the fuck have you been up to?”
“I don’t know.”
“Open the damn door, Claire,” interrupted Betty, her grip tightening around the cleaver in her hand. “We need to get into the control room.”
“Cameron says you can’t come in.”
“Is he in there with you?”
“Yes.”
Betty looked at Anna. “Torch her.”
“Sorry, Claire,” said Anna, shoving the door hard, and swinging the blowtorch up toward her. Claire yelped and fell backwards, letting out a scream and dodging the flame. Anna swept her gaze around the room, immediately spotting Cameron operating the control panel, completely oblivious both t
o their entry and Claire’s cry. She dashed toward him, and didn’t see Roger hiding behind the door.
Betty called out a warning, but too late.
Roger stepped forward and swung the fire extinguisher at Captain Anna’s head. To Betty, the world seemed to drag into slow motion, as though someone had put their finger on a record while it was spinning. She saw the solid metal rim of the base of the extinguisher crash down and into the crown of Anna’s skull. She saw blood and lumps of bone and flesh spray upwards. The Captain half-turned and Betty managed to catch her gaze for a nanosecond before her eyes rolled upwards and she started to fall. Then, it was as though the finger had been lifted from the vinyl and the Captain collapsed to the floor. Chairs and desks blocked Betty’s view, but she could see her foot twitching involuntarily.
“Roger! What the fuck are you doing?” Betty screamed, tears leaping instantly to her eyes.
Roger said nothing, and brought the fire extinguisher down once again, with a sickening crunch. Anna’s black leather ankle boot stopped twitching. Roger wiped the blood spray from his face and looked back over to Betty. She took a step back, her grip tightening around the meat cleaver. Roger advanced on her slowly, still holding the gore encrusted fire extinguisher. Betty threw up at the sight of the Captain’s blonde hair stuck to its base. Wiping her mouth, she started backing towards the door, hoping for an escape.
Cameron still worked at the control panel, totally undistracted. Roger advanced slowly, obviously wary of the cleaver in her hand. She was reaching behind her for the door when, suddenly, Claire grabbed her from behind, and tried to throw her to the ground. Betty yelled and ran backwards as fast as she could, barreling into the wall, crushing Claire against it. Claire let out a grunt and sunk her teeth into Betty’s neck. Betty yelled through clenched teeth against the pain and slammed her into the wall again and again. Eventually Claire’s grip loosened and she dropped to the floor. Betty kicked her in the head for good measure, and Claire fell still.
She turned and saw that Roger was almost on her, the fire extinguisher held high. Screaming in a panic she swung the cleaver hard into his side. He let out a grunt and dropped his weapon, falling to one knee. Betty wondered if this would be enough to wake him from his hellish hypnotism, but he didn’t even clasp a hand to the wound, and instead just rose up to his feet like a zombie from a Fulci movie. Betty turned and ran from the room, hoping that Kurt and Jazmin would have gotten through to the Black Hawk, and would be waiting in the canteen.
In the now still and quiet room, Cameron’s eyes remained glued to the screen of the control panel. The Prospero drill bit had penetrated deeper than before, and now it was time to use the “icebreaker”. He hit the ignition, and operated a feature that he had never thought he would have cause to use, as the main action of the drill had proven much stronger than he had anticipated.
The chambers inside the drill fired up and a jet of superheated air, originally designed to melt large blocks of ice, blasted from the tip, heating the Antarctic water below, causing the sea to bubble and even the occasional wisp of steam to ghost across the surface.
The egg chamber below began to heat up, and the contents of those eggs began to stir.
Cameron stretched out his legs, put his hands behind his head and smiled. He’d done a good job. He’d designed a wonderful tool.
The room was silent until Roger finally lost enough blood and collapsed to the floor. Later, Claire stirred a little, but for the most part, it was just Cameron and the Prospero, enjoying each other’s company.
SEVENTEEN
Betty and Jazmin burst through into the canteen almost simultaneously, from opposite doors, and with one glance at each other they both knew that things had gone very wrong. They walked slowly to the central table, shell shocked. Jazmin’s eyes flickered to the blood stained meat cleaver in Betty’s hand, and she asked, “Cameron?”
Betty shook her head. “No. He’s alive, and still working the drill. Roger killed the Captain, and I killed Roger. At least, I think I did.”
They both slumped into the hard, uncomfortable plastic chairs, and Jazmin put a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. You did what you had to do.”
“Did you get through to Icecap McMurdo? Is the Black Hawk coming?”
Jazmin looked apologetic. “Kind of. We got through, and they knew we needed assistance, but before we could tell them exactly what we needed, one of the spiders killed Kurt. I ran.”
“The spiders can kill now? I thought they just had that telepathic venom?”
Jazmin started crying. “They have something like a wasp’s stinger. It’s hidden most of the time, but Kurt got stabbed with it two or three times. Then he died. And I ran.”
Betty rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands and groaned.
“Is it just you and me left now?” asked Jazmin.
“Cameron and maybe Claire are still alive, but they’re…spider brained. I don’t know about Bobby. I didn’t see him. He could be dead, or hive-minded, or he could be holding up somewhere, like you and I.”
Jazmin wiped the tears from her eyes. “Okay. Okay. So what are we going to do now?”
“We’re going back to the radio room together, killing that spider, and calling Icecap McMurdo for help.”
“I…I can’t go back in there.”
“You’d rather sit here alone?”
Betty stood up, stuck the cleaver in the side pocket of her combats and walked over to the other side of the canteen. “Let’s explore the kitchen some more. We need weapons, and this is the best place we’re going to find them.”
***
After what seemed like forever, Cameron finally stopped the hypnotically spinning drill and sat back. The largest of the spiders sat at the console next to him, the light from the setting sun reflecting red in its many eyes. It twitched and flexed its fangs and legs and let out a little hissing sound.
They came slowly at first, one or two…then a clutch of five, their white chitinous bodies standing out bright against the dirty gunmetal of the Prospero. Awoken from their eon long slumber, the ice spiders began to climb up to claim the drilling rig. It was only a matter of seconds before it seemed as though hundreds of them were running up the drill, covering it in a rolling, scampering white mass. Yet, more still poured forth from the sea.
Cameron smiled. His drill had done well. He would change the world with his invention.
***
Approaching the door to Captain Anna’s office, large meat tenderiser in hand, Betty stopped Jazmin with a gesture. “You hear that?”
“What?”
“The drill’s stopped.”
“Why would it stop?”
“I don’t know. Cameron must have switched it off.”
Jazmin held her rolling pin tightly in both hands, the handle of some kitchen scissors just poking out of her jacket pocket. “Do you think he’s…?”
“No. Something else is going on. Come on. We need to get to that radio.”
Reaching the door, Betty looked through the glass window to the inside. Straight away she saw Kurt, slumped on the floor, his face toward her, contorted into a terrified and pained rictus. She swept her gaze across the rest of the room, feeling her heart leap into her throat when she saw the spider sitting on the radio, the handset now obscured under a thick web. She rested her hand on the doorknob, intending to rush the spider and crush it with the steak hammer, when Jazmin screamed and she practically jumped out of her skin.
She saw Jazmin, pale as snow, pointing toward the main window with her finger, and when Betty saw what the girl was pointing at, she thought that her own heart might explode.
The Prospero was covered – from the high chuck at the base of the helipad, all the way down to the water – in a seething, rolling white mass of the ice spiders. When she was a child, Betty had seen a dead dog on the beach, and it had been covered in little crabs, all feeding on the dead flesh, acting as one large mass of pincers and eyes and skittering legs. This was like that, on
ly a hundred times more macabre and a hundred times more unearthly.
“Jesus…how many are there?” she breathed.
“Thousands,” whimpered Jazmin. “My god…we have to get out of here.”
“Yeah. Yeah, we do.”
“We need the Black Hawk.”
“There’s a spider sat on the radio, but there’s only one of them. You throw the door open and I’ll rush it with the hammer. Then, you and I are going to radio for help.”
“Okay. I’m scared, Betty. There are thousands of them out there. What can the chopper do?”
“It can get us out of here, it can get someone else to see what’s happening here. Then they can come back, prepared, and they can deal with the spiders. Are you going to help me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, take the door handle and – on three – throw it open, and I’ll take care of the rest. Can you do that?”
Jazmin nodded her agreement and took a shaky hold of the door handle. She turned her tear stained eyes to Betty, and waited for the signal.
“Ready? One…two…three!”
Jazmin threw the door open and Betty charged in with the steak hammer. The spider saw her and threw its legs up and its fangs wide. It turned a little to face her, but before it could leap, Betty smashed it sideways on with the spiky wooden mallet, and the foul creature went flying sideways into a filing cabinet, exploding into shards of chitin and a strange black grit, like a crushed pencil. “Spider’s down!” Betty called back to Jazmin, who followed her in.
Betty swept the spider’s web from the radio handset and jabbered out a communication. Their spirits lifted when Icecap McMurdo answered. “Receiving you, Tempest Outpost. How can we help? Over.”
“We need immediate evacuation. Samples we brought up were…contaminated. We have crew dead and crew poisoned. We need medical assistance and a clean-up team. Over.”
“Acknowledged, Tempest Outpost. I’ll see what’s available, and get back to you. Stand by. Over.”
“Acknowledged. Standing by. Over.”
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