Erebus: An Apocalyptic Thriller

by Steven Bird

  ���Yeah, I know,��� Brett replied, taking the coffee and savoring the aroma as it warmed his face. ���But they���ll also have my ass if we sit here and do nothing, allowing them to simply starve to death. It���s lose-lose. Either way, we���ve got to get moving and worry about the potential civil actions later.���

  ���It���s sad that these days you can���t make a decision without worrying about the potential legal liability involved.���

  ���Yeah, I often feel like guides need malpractice insurance like medical doctors. We take the affluent into dangerous situations every day upon their own request, and if anything were to happen, well, like you said, someone would have my ass,��� Brett said with a chuckle.

  ���Mr. Thompson,��� Dr. Bentley said from across the room. ���Are you ready to lead our intrepid group of laboratory dwellers into the myriad dangers ahead?���

  ���Yes, sir,��� Brett replied smartly. ���Where���s Neville?��� he asked.

  ���He is busy gathering as many of our notes as he can. There���s no reason to leave our ideas behind, even if we have to dispense with our gear.���

  Once everyone had eaten their last meal in the relative comfort of the Lower Erebus Hut, they all suited up, donning their many layers of protective garments for the harrowing journey that awaited them.

  ���Listen up, everyone,��� Dr. Hunter announced. ���The minute we step foot out of the hut, Brett is in charge. I don���t care what your position is at your respective universities. Once we get out on the mountain and the vast expanse of snow and ice ahead of us, he���s our leader. There will be no arguments there. He���s our expert guide and mountaineer, and your level of tenure does not supersede that.���

  Looking around and seeing that everyone was in agreement, Dr. Hunter said, ���Good,��� with a smile and a nod. Turning to face Brett, he said, ���Mr. Thompson, you have it from here. We���re all equals out there on the ice. You give the orders as you see fit for the good of the group and don���t worry about hurting anyone���s feelings or pride. You���ll have my full support in that as the Principle Investigator of the expedition, though I will yield that authority to you until we reach McMurdo Station.���

  ���Thanks, Nathan,��� Brett replied with a grin. He then quickly said, ���Sorry, Doc. I had to test drive my position.���

  ���Call me ���Hey, You��� if you want until we get to McMurdo,��� Dr. Hunter replied with a chuckle. ���Just get us there. There is no room for titles or social status from here on out.���

  Looking around the room, Brett said, ���Okay, folks. Two of the snowmobiles will have to be ridden double-up. Dr. Duval, you and Neville share a ski, if you don���t mind. Lester, you and Ronald share one, too. You four are the lightest of the group, and the machines will handle your combined weight in the snow better than the others.���

  ���It���s Jenny,��� Dr. Duval replied. ���Call me Jenny. Like Nathan said, let���s dispense with the formalities and just get us the hell out of here.���

  Replying only with a smile, Brett continued, ���Now, we won���t be taking our familiar route up the mountain that we���ve taken so many times before. That route is all many of you have ridden. The trail is well established and the dangers are known. What we will be facing today is the opposite of that. It���s unmarked terrain with many unknowns. I���ll take the lead position so that I can evaluate any hazards before I lead you into them. Mason, I���d like you to take up the rear. With the two of us being the most experienced, if I get swallowed up by a snow-covered crevasse or something, I want to ensure that you���re still around to get everyone else back to McMurdo. We can���t both go down together.���

  ���Understood,��� Mason replied.

  ���You and I will meet up to confer about things when necessary, but when the group is moving, I want us at opposite ends. As far as the rest of you go, pay close attention to the ski in front of you. Stay in my tracks to avoid any undetected hazards.���

  ~~~~

  After a brief question and answer period, the group joined up with their snowmobiles outside. With rescue gear, emergency shelters, and first aid kits strapped to some, extra fuel cans were lashed securely to others. With their engines running and warmed up, Brett signaled, and the group headed down the mountain to begin their journey to McMurdo.

  Working their way down the steep, snow-and-rock-covered grades of Erebus, the group carefully picked their way around the rock outcrops and sections too steep for snowmobile travel. Side-hilling above a nearly vertical icy slope, Lester and Ronald began to slide sideways toward the ledge.

  Mason���s heart nearly skipped a beat as he saw the two men sliding uncontrollably. Seeing them come to an abrupt stop just feet from certain death, Mason parked his ski and worked his way past several of the others to reach them.

  ���Holy fuckin��� shit!��� Ronald screamed as Lester silently clenched the handlebars, afraid to move. ���Get us off this thing! Get us the hell off this thing!���

  ���Calm down, Ronald!��� Mason replied as he radioed ahead to Brett. ���Brett! We���ve got a problem!��� he shouted over the radio.

  ���On my way,��� Brett said in return, as he halted the movement of the group.

  Quickly grabbing a climbing rope that Brett had lashed to Dr. Hunter���s ski, Mason said, ���Take this end and run it through your ski somewhere, then tie it off to Dr. Bentley���s ski as well. We need a good anchor point.���

  Nodding in reply, Dr. Hunter did as Mason asked, as Brett joined up with them and said, ���Damn it, we just got started.���

  ���No offense, but you put Lester and Ronald on the same sled,��� Mason replied. ���That���s asking for trouble.���

  ���Yeah, well, let���s get to this,��� Brett said as he threaded the climbing rope through the figure eight clipped to a carabiner on his harness. Taking a second rope, he handed it to Mason and said, ���Tie this one off to something secure. I���m gonna have Tweedles Dee and Dumb work their way up to you with ascenders, one at a time. I don���t trust them enough to let them climb untethered.���

  Turning to look down at the two and their perilous position, he then said to Mason, ���Tie off a third rope and toss it down. I���ll tie off the ski. If I can get it turned up the hill I���ll ride it back up, or try, at least. We can���t be losing equipment this early into the trip.���

  Working his way down the steep, icy slope, Brett could see that the rock ledge just beneath them dropped what appeared to be fifty or sixty feet below. It doesn���t matter if it���s a thousand feet, he thought to himself as he allowed the rope to slip through his figure eight, lowering him toward their position. Even if they survived the fall, the slope below would take them for quite a ride before they came to a stop.

  Closing to within ten feet of them, Brett looked around to see that several rocks sticking up from beneath the ice were the only things that had kept them from going over the drop sideways.

  ���What the hell, boys?��� he asked in dismay.

  ���Just get us out of here, damn it!��� Ronald shouted.

  ���Calm down,��� Brett said. ���We���ll have you out of here in no time.���

  As he worked his way closer to them, a gust of wind swept Brett off his feet, causing him to fall several feet before catching himself by applying pressure to the rope as it slipped through the figure eight. With his heart racing, he said, ���See? Nothing to worry about,��� as he struggled to his feet, once again leaning back against the rope.

  With the fall putting him to the side and
just below the snowmobile, he looked up to the two men and tossed them the rope he had brought for them with ascenders attached. ���You know the drill!��� he shouted. ���You learned it at snow school. Ronald, since Lester has a good grip on the machine, you go first. Tie yourself off and use the ascenders to get back up to the group. When you get to the top, have Mason toss the rope back down. Make sure he positions the ascenders to where Lester can reach them without too much physical maneuvering.���

  Nodding nervously, Ronald took hold of the rope and began working his way up. Every few feet, his boots would slip, causing him to whimper in fear as he clutched the ascenders tightly.

  Working his way over to Lester Stevens, Brett said calmly, ���Nice view, isn���t it?���

  ���That���s not funny,��� Lester said, intensifying his grip on the handlebars.

  Talking as he tied the third rope off to the machine, Brett said, ���Relax. You���ll need some strength in those hands to get to the top. Don���t fatigue yourself by hanging on with a death grip. No pun intended, of course.���

  Relaxing slightly, Lester said, ���How the hell are we supposed to make it all the way to McMurdo if we can���t even get off the mountain?���

  ���Trust me, Lester. We���ll be fine.���

  With a shaky voice, Lester replied, ���I sure as hell don���t feel fine.���

  Tossing the rope back down to the machine, Mason yelled, ���Heads up!��� as the weight of the ascenders carried the rope quickly toward them, bouncing off the ice upon impact.

  ���You���re up, Lester,��� Brett said as he reached for the rope and ascenders, sliding them to within Lester���s reach.

  Taking hold, Lester began working his way up as Brett pushed away from the steep incline with his feet, swinging around to the front of the snowmobile as he arced around, suspended from the rope. Reaching for the starter button located on the left-side handlebar, Brett pressed start and heard the two-cycle engine sputter to life with a cloud of smoke billowing out of its exhaust. Thank God it���s not flooded out on this angle.

  Yelling up to Mason, Brett said, ���Once Lester and Ronald are clear, get the group moving slightly forward and in unison to keep the slack out of the rope tied to the machine! I���m hoping we can get it pointed uphill so I can get it going up while you guys pull!���

  Yelling back down to Brett, Mason said, ���Roger that!��� as he helped Lester get back to his feet once safely on the trail.

  Waiting patiently down below, just inches from the sheer drop, Brett looked at the rocks holding the sled up by its track one more time, swallowed the lump in his throat, and said, ���Okay, give her a slight pull. The rope should help get the nose pointed uphill. I���ll ease her up with the throttle to help while ascending beside it.���

  ���What? You���re not gonna just ride it up?��� Mason joked, shouting back down at him.

  ���Hell, no! I ain���t gettin��� on this thing until it���s back on the trail,��� Brett replied.

  Watching the slack of the rope begin to tighten as the five other snowmobiles began pulling in unison from above, Brett���s heart skipped a beat as he saw the tracks slip over the rocks, bringing the heavy machine swinging toward him and yanking hard on the rope above.

  Sliding over the edge, the snowmobile���s free-hanging weight was too much for the sleds above to hold in position. Screaming when she felt the snowmobile that she and Neville occupied begin to lunge backward toward the edge of the trail, being pulled by the rope from below, Jenny Duval held on for dear life as Mason quickly pulled his Medford Praetorian pocket knife, flipped open the blade with his heavily-gloved thumb, and immediately chopped through the climbing rope with the thick, heavy blade, allowing the snowmobile to freefall over the edge.

  As the sled began to fall, Brett became entangled in its handlebar and went over the side, his rope smoking as it was pulled through his figure eight with increasing speed.

  Watching as Brett disappeared over the edge, Mason���s mind raced as he immediately second-guessed his actions. Seeing Brett���s rope work itself back and forth from a struggle below, Mason shouted, ���Brett! Brett, are you okay?���

  Reaching over the edge and taking hold of the rocks that once held the snowmobile in place, Brett grunted and said, ���Yeah. Yeah, just pull me up.���

  Chapter Six

  En Route to McMurdo Station

  After the incident, the group pressed on, working their way down the side of the treacherous volcano. Having only five remaining snowmobiles after Lester and Ronald���s mishap, Dr. Hunter now found himself with Lester Stevens as a passenger, while Dr. Bentley carried Ronald Weber.

  Taking fewer chances now, the group had each extra rider dismount and walk any terrain that was viewed as potentially tricky. It slowed their pace, but ensured they would each reach the bottom of the mountain safely.

  After reaching the base of Erebus, and several hours into the ride across the frozen terrain toward McMurdo Station, Brett raised his hand and brought the group to a halt.

  Stopping his snowmobile and walking toward Brett, Mason asked, ���What���s up?���

  Pointing up ahead, Brett said, ���See that shift in the snow? It looks as if that section settled suddenly while the rest remained in place. I���m guessing there is a crevasse or something there allowing the snow to shift like that. We need to probe around a bit before pushing any further in that direction.���

  ���I���ll go with you,��� Mason replied.

  Speaking up from behind, Dr. Hunter dismounted and said, ���No. You stay behind with the group for the reasons Brett mentioned earlier. I���ll go with him.���

  ���I can do it myself,��� Brett replied.

  ���Nonsense. It���ll take twice the time,��� Dr. Hunter replied. ���If we both probe as we move, staggered apart, we can cover twice as much ground and clear a wider safe zone while we���re at it.��� Correcting himself, he quickly said, ���That is, of course, if you agree, Mr. Thompson.���

  ���Okay, Doc,��� Brett Thompson replied. ���You���re right, and we need to cover ground more quickly if we���re gonna make McMurdo before nightfall. The days are short this time of year as it is.���

  Following what appeared to be the safest route across the shifting snow, Brett and Dr. Hunter used the long, slender wooden rods with metal tips that they had brought along with the rescue gear to probe beneath the surface for solid ground or ice. If there was a crevasse or a void beneath the snow, they wanted to find it before a snowmobile disappeared with its riders into what would more than likely be a cold, icy death.

  After probing for approximately twenty yards, Dr. Hunter said, ���Here we go,��� as his wooden probe went beneath the surface of the snow to his grip. ���This is deep. I can���t feel a bottom.���

  With a nod, Brett turned and began to walk and probe perpendicular to Dr. Hunter���s position and their direction of travel, jabbing at the ground in front him. After a few moments, his probing rod went several feet down beneath the surface.

  Turning to Dr. Hunter, he shouted, ���Here���s the other edge.���

  Walking toward Brett Thompson, Dr. Hunter pointed and asked, ���So, you think crevasse runs this direction?���

  ���Yeah, I���d say we���ve been on it for a while, and luckily remained on its spine. We need to keep heading in that direction,��� Brett said as he pointed along what he believed to be the ridge between two crevasses.

  Walking back to the rest of the group, Brett approached Neville and said, ���Neville, give Jenny a break and take my snowmobile for a while. I���m gonna walk ahead of the group, probing as w
e go.���

  ���Whatever for?��� Dr. Bentley enquired.

  ���It appears we are on top of a ridge of ice, or a snow bridge, with a crevasse on each side hidden by deep snow. Just stay in single file, at least ten feet apart, and follow in my footsteps. This will slow us down a bit, but so will plummeting to the bottom of a crevasse.���

  ���You���ve got a rather odd sense of humor,��� Dr. Bentley replied.

  ���Sorry, but I wasn���t joking,��� Brett responded. ���Now, let���s get moving. We���re gonna be hard-pressed to make it to McMurdo before dark. You all know how cold it gets around here after dark.���

  ~~~~

  After pushing hard for the rest of the day, narrowly avoiding several closer calls, the group neared McMurdo Station as the remaining daylight disappeared over the horizon. Tired, hungry, and nearly frozen to the core, the group pushed on with the lights of McMurdo in sight.

  As they neared the edge of the research station, they saw flames coming from several locations around the base, prompting Brett to bring the group to a halt. Looking to his left as Dr. Hunter rode up alongside him, he said, ���What the hell?���

  ���Where is everyone?��� Dr. Hunter asked. ���Why isn���t anyone fighting those fires? Come on!��� he said as he began to speed toward McMurdo with Lester hanging on for dear life.

  Pulling to a stop, Dr. Hunter was horrified to see bodies strewn about on the blood-soaked ice, snow, and dirt of McMurdo. Quickly dismounting, he ran to the side of one of the bodies to see that the person had been beaten so savagely that most of his face was gone, with a smashed and distorted eye dangling from the massive hole that was once an eye socket.

  Dry-heaving for a moment in disgust, he stood as the rest of the group reached him, each of them dismounting their snowmobiles, in shock at what they were seeing before them.