Erebus: An Apocalyptic Thriller

by Steven Bird

  Taking the shotgun, Neville looked it over carefully, saying, ���Thanks, but I hope I don���t have to use it. Oh, by the way, mate, what���s double-ought buck?���

  ���Big lead balls,��� Mason responded with a smile.

  Laughing and returning an uneasy grin, Neville said, ���That���s exactly what I need at the moment.���

  Turning and pointing to a door in the back of the room, Neville asked, ���What���s back there?���

  Watching Neville closely as he spoke, Mason reached out and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun, stopping Neville from sweeping the others with the muzzle. ���Whoa,��� Mason said, ���I almost forgot. Don���t ever point this thing at something or someone you don���t want to kill or destroy. Pretend like there is a laser beam coming out of the barrel at all times. Don���t let that beam touch any of us. And keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Guns don���t just go off. People make them go off. And if it isn���t pointing at any of us when it does, it won���t hit us.���

  Jiggling the knob on the door in the back of the room, Dr. Hunter said, ���It���s locked.��� Knocking on it, he added, ���This is a heavy door, too. I don���t think we can just bust it in.���

  Walking up to the wall off to the side of the door, Vasily rapped on the walls with his knuckles looking for studs. Seeming to have found what he was looking for, he kicked the wall, putting his foot through the sheetrock. Pulling his foot back through the hole, he dusted himself off and peeked to the other side. He then began tearing away the sheetrock by hand, saying, ���Door may be secure, but wall is not.��� Tapping the side of his head, he said, ���Sometimes, smart people do not think.���

  Once he created a hole large enough to fit his body through between the wall studs, Vasily slipped into the hole, appearing in the doorway when he opened the door from the inside. ���This is it. This is what we were looking for,��� he said, gesturing for the others to step inside.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Crary Lab

  ���Jenny!��� screamed Brett in horror. Running to her side, he turned and shouted in a panic-stricken voice, ���Help! We need help!���

  ���I���ll get first aid supplies,��� said Dr. Perkins as he turned and ran back toward the group.

  Seeing horror and fear in her eyes, Brett knelt beside Jenny to render aid and to comfort her. Applying direct pressure to her open neck wound in an attempt to stop or slow the profuse bleeding, Brett whispered, ���It���s gonna be okay. He didn���t get you too bad.���

  Unable to speak, Jenny responded simply with a look of fear and understanding in her eyes. Brett could see that she knew she wasn���t going to make it. Or perhaps under the circumstances, she didn���t want to make it. Reaching for his hand, Dr. Jenny Duval pulled his hand free of her wound, and as a rush of blood dumped from her throat, her eyes rolled back into her head and she took her final breath.

  Hearing the others running up behind him, Brett turned to see the look of horror on Dr. Graves��� face as she shouted, ���Your hands!���

  Looking at his blood-soaked hands, the realization set in that he may have allowed himself to become contaminated in his rush to render aid. Mumbling to himself in near disbelief, he said, ���Son of a bitch.���

  ���Walt!��� shouted Dr. Graves, addressing Dr. Perkins. ���Take him back to the lounge and get him washed up. Look for alcohol or something in the first aid cabinet. Clean him up the best you can, but don���t touch it! Wear gloves and a mask!���

  ���Will do!��� Dr. Perkins replied as he led Brett back to the lounge.

  Looking down at Jenny Duval���s body, Dr. Graves shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes.

  Arriving in the lounge, Dr. Perkins quickly opened the first aid locker and handed Brett a package of sanitizing wipes. ���Get started with these,��� he said as he searched the contents of the locker. Finding both hydrogen peroxide and isopropyl alcohol, the two mainstays of nearly every first aid locker, he began pouring one, then the other, as Brett scrubbed his hand feverishly with the wipes.

  ���I think I got it all,��� said Brett, pushing his sleeves, watch, and bracelet out of the way, showing his hands to Dr. Perkins for inspection.

  ���I see you���ve got a little nick right there on your finger.��� Handing him the alcohol, Dr. Perkins said, ���Scrub that area extra well. Be aggressive. Make it hurt.���

  Seeing Dr. Graves and Dr. Bentley enter the room, Dr. Perkins looked up and asked, ���Is she?���

  ���Yes. She���s gone,��� replied Dr. Bentley.

  Walking up to Brett, Dr. Graves asked, ���Are you okay? Did he touch you? Did he������

  ���No,��� Brett replied. ���Dr. Perkins here took care of him right before he got to me. He was already on top of Jenny when we arrived. It appeared as if he was eating her neck.���

  Taking a seat on the lounge sofa, Dr. Graves put her face in her hands and gathered her thoughts. After a few moments, she raised her head, saying, ���It���s as if he was after her blood.���

  ���Her blood?��� Dr. Bentley replied. ���What are you suggesting?���

  ���We���ve seen them develop in several stages. I���ve watched Jared myself, having been with him when he first started showing signs. At the onset, they feel sick. Fever and irritability seem to be the first signs. After a while, they begin to lose a grip on their own conscious thought, becoming more animalistic in nature as the infection progresses. By the time they reach a stage of uncontrollable violence, the visible signs of bloodshot eyes, heavy sweating, and what appears to be a colony of eukaryotes begins to become visible, shadowing the host’s major arteries.���

  Struggling to maintain her composure, Dr. Graves continued, ���In the more advanced state, such as when Jared attacked Jenny, they seem to be behaving in a strictly primal way as if feeding, rather than random acts of violence, is their true motivator. Perhaps the colony within them sees a need to expand their reach, or they simply see a future need for more food than their host can offer. Either way, Jared seemed to be feeding on Jenny���s neck. Her blood was in his mouth as if he had been swallowing it. It wasn���t merely an attack out of blind rage.���

  ���Good Lord,��� Dr. Bentley replied. ���Do you think such microbes would be capable of altering a host���s behavior to such an extent? Inducing random fits of rage is one thing. We can see that in a virus such as rabies, but to turn a man into a vampire?���

  ���I���m not suggesting he was turned into a vampire,��� replied Dr. Graves. ���Are you familiar with the fungus ophiocordyceps unilateralis?���

  ���Ah, yes. The zombie ant?��� he replied.

  ���Exactly. Ophiocordyceps unilateralis is a mere fungus that infects the host ant, then alters its behavior by forcing it to leave its colony and attach itself to the underside of a leaf by clamping its mandibles on a leaf vein. The host ant then remains there, fixed in place while the fungus uses its body, eventually sprouting a reproductive spore from the ant���s head.

  ���If a fungus can alter the behavior of an ant, repeatedly showing that the ant is, in fact, doing the bidding of the fungus in order for the fungus to grow and reproduce, then I don���t think we can rule out such things here.���

  ���Such a dreadful thought,��� he replied.

  Turning to Brett, seeing fear and worry in his eyes, Dr. Graves said, ���Don���t worry too much, Brett. If that was only Jenny���s blood flowing outward, there might not have been a transfer of the microbes to her yet. Also, any newly introduced microbes may have been washed away
in her flowing blood. We are unsure of the specifics of that process at the moment.���

  ���I can���t believe I was so stupid,��� he replied.

  ���Don���t say that,��� said Dr. Perkins sharply. ���You were rushing to the aid of a friend and colleague. You put her safety ahead of your own. That was a very heroic move in my eyes. You did what any good man would have done. We learn as we go, but in times of crisis, sometimes we just have to act and think things through afterward.���

  ���What about Jenny? We can���t just leave her there,��� replied Brett, brushing off any notion of heroism.

  ���It���s too dangerous to move her right now. The amount of blood that is present makes it too risky to move her, considering the potential for accidental contamination. We need to stick together. We need to remain here in the lounge until the others return.���

  ���I agree,��� replied Dr. Bentley. ���Jenny wouldn���t have wanted us to risk ourselves just to move her in such a situation. She wasn���t much for ceremony, anyway. As a matter of fact, I do believe she would have been the first among us to offer her body up for scientific discovery. I heard her discussing that once. Something about that ���Bodies��� exhibition she saw at some art museum.���

  Walking toward the window, Dr. Bentley continued, ���Besides, it���s getting late out there. If I was with Dr. Hunter, Mason, and Neville, I would want to hunker down wherever they are for the night and return in the morning. It sounds like the winds are kicking up as well. They���d be in for a rough ride, trekking around in the dark in these conditions.���

  ~~~~

  For the next several hours, Linda, Gerald, Walt, and Brett sat quietly, listening to the pounding winds as they beat against the side of the Crary Lab. With thoughts of all that had happened, what the others must be going through to have kept them away so long, and of what may be yet to come, it was nearly impossible for anyone to sleep.

  Breaking the silence, Dr. Perkins said, ���Okay, before we all doze off and leave ourselves unguarded, I���ll take watch so the rest of you can sleep. If recent events are any indication, tomorrow will be yet another trying and difficult day. We need to get some rest, so we���re ready to face it.���

  ���Wake me when you need a relief,��� said Brett eagerly.

  ���Nonsense,��� Dr. Bentley asserted. ���You rest up. I���ll take the next watch. Now, like Walt here said, let���s get some sleep and prepare ourselves for the dreadful things that will surely come our way when the sun rises and casts its light over this dreadful place. Or perhaps, even sooner.���

  Chapter Fifteen

  McMurdo Station Ops

  Stepping into the small back room of the station manager���s office, Dr. Hunter patted Vasily on the shoulder, and with a smile, said, ���I���m sure glad you found the key.���

  Looking around the room, the men saw a rack of weapons with a cable lock running through the trigger guards.

  Hearing Neville say something from his position standing watch at the outer door of the office, Dr. Hunter turned and asked, ���What���s that?���

  ���I said, I found you a new set of gloves, Mason. What did you chaps find?���

  ���We���ve got a rack of four M-16���s.���

  ���Well, they���re the semi-auto versions. AR-15���s,��� Mason said, pointing to the lack of a third position on the safety selector. ���They���re missing the happy setting.���

  ���Saves ammunition,��� Vasily stated as he read the roll mark on the left side of the receiver. ���Colt. Ahhh, the good stuff.��� Flipping the rifle over and reading the other side of the magazine well, he read aloud, ���Restricted, military/government law-enforcement/export use only.���

  ���That���s crap,��� Mason said. ���Colt left that on there long after the sunset to the so-called assault weapons ban was reached. I guess they thought it made them look cool. It always pissed me off to see one hanging in a gun shop with that on it, as if only someone in that special class could own one.���

  Pulling on the cable threaded through the trigger guards while looking for a way to free the rifles, Vasily turned to see Mason pick one up, pushing a small spring-loaded pin on the trigger guard in slightly, and then swinging the lower portion of the trigger guard open, freeing the rifle from the cable.

  ���Whoever set this up wasn���t thinking,��� Mason said. ���The trigger guards on these things flip open with just the tip of a bullet as a tool in order to make room for gloves or mittens. How they thought a cable running through the trigger guard was secure is beyond me.���

  Doing as Mason had done, Vasily and Dr. Hunter freed the other three rifles.

  ���You obviously know how to use one of these, Mason,��� Dr. Hunter said.

  ���Well, yeah. That tactical carbine class I mentioned used the AR-15 as the primary weapon.���

  Patting Mason on the back, Dr. Hunter said, ���I sure brought the right grad student along. That���s more evident every day.���

  ���Are you good to go with that, Vasily?��� Mason asked.

  ���I was Soviet military. I served during Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, as well as several,��� pausing to gather his thoughts, Vasily cleared his throat and continued, ���I… I served in several, uh, ���unconventional��� campaigns. We trained with your weapons. So, yes, I am familiar.���

  Pulling on a padlock secured to a steel security locker, Mason said, ���This looks like a logical place to find ammo.���

  ���If we can���t find the key, I���d imagine it���s clipped to the belt of our friend, the station manager,��� replied Dr. Hunter as he began sifting through the drawers, looking for keys.���

  ���I found keys,��� said Vasily, holding up two open-end wrenches that he produced from a tool bag he found in the bottom drawer.

  ���Keys?��� Dr. Hunter asked, confused by Vasily���s statement.

  Slipping the jaws of both wrenches into the hasp of the lock, Vasily pushed the handles toward each other, using the leverage of the opposing jaws on the wrench���s open ends to break the hasp of the lock. ���Keys,��� he said with a smile. ���Locks do not keep people out. They tell you where things you seek are hidden.���

  Smiling at Vasily���s response, Mason pulled the drawer open and said, ���Jackpot,��� as he began removing loaded, thirty-round government-issue AR-15 magazines, placing them on top of the counter next to them. ���Looks like we���ve got twenty. That���s five mags per gun. That should be plenty for anything short of an armed conflict.���

  ���Yes, very good,��� replied Vasily.

  ���Okay, guys,��� Dr. Hunter said as he slung his newly found rifle over his shoulder. ���We need to get back to the group.��� Turning toward the door, he shouted, ���Neville, come on back.���

  Seeing Neville walk into the back room, Mason gestured to him and asked, ���Where���s the shotgun?���

  ���It���s on the desk,��� he replied.

  ���A lot of good it will do you there. Trust me, if you get in the habit of walking around without a gun when you have one available, the first time you need it, you won���t have it with you.���

  ���I���m guess I���m still not completely comfortable with the concept of carrying a gun,��� Neville replied. ���Crazy, I know, given the situation, but years of conditioning are not easily undone.���

  ���I���m personally not comfortable with the thought of being killed by a rabid psycho that���s foaming at the mouth,��� Mason
replied. ���I suggest you get used to the concept and quick.���

  Nodding that he understood, Neville turned to retrieve the shotgun as Mason said, ���Wait, we found these,��� as he pointed to the AR-15���s.

  Seeing Neville���s hesitation, Dr. Hunter said, ���Neville, why don���t you just carry the shotgun? You���ve already been shown how to use it and it���s far easier to hit what you���re shooting at with it. We can give the other rifle to one of the others. Just grab the shotgun and get ready to move.���

  ���Speaking of that,��� Neville replied. ���The weather is becoming quite nasty out and the sun, what sun is left this time of year, is almost gone. Visibility is near zero in my estimation.���

  Looking to the others, Dr. Hunter said, ���Thoughts?���

  Scratching his chin, Mason said, ���Maybe we should just hunker down here for the night. We can move to one of the rooms with a functioning door and a lock.���

  Nodding in agreement, Vasily said, ���Is good idea. We stay. No use to your friends if we do not reach them.���

  ���That, and I���m sure Brett would expect that. He���d take a look at the conditions and expect us to hunker down until morning.���

  ���Okay, then. It���s settled,��� Dr. Hunter confirmed. ���Let���s find a secure place to spend the night.���

  ���That sounds like a plan,��� Mason replied. ���But before we get going, have you fired an AR before?���

  ���No,��� replied Dr. Hunter. ���I���ve hunted with my brother-in-law and shot rifles out at his ranch, but they were always bolt-actions. There was one semi-auto, but it looked like a hunting rifle. I can���t remember what it was exactly.���

  Holding his rifle in front of Dr. Hunter, Mason explained the basic battery of arms, as well as a quick overview of how the AR-15���s gas system functions.