Erebus: An Apocalyptic Thriller

by Steven Bird

  ���I���m surprised it took this long,��� whispered Dr. Hunter. ���Power generation was bound to need human input at some point before it fell offline.���

  ���Things are gonna get really cold around here, really quick,��� added Mason.

  ���What the bloody hell are we going to do now?��� Neville asked in frustration.

  Hearing Vasily whisper, ���Come. We move now,��� in the darkness, Dr. Hunter, Mason, and Neville fell in behind him and worked their way toward the rear entry doors in the center of the building.

  Once the group was gathered at the doorway, Vasily whispered, ���There are steps leading down on other side of door. Once we move, do not stop. Follow behind me, hand on shoulder of man in front of you. Do not become separated in darkness and storm. I have place to shelter until morning. Then, we find your friends.���

  With Dr. Hunter, Mason, and Neville all nodding in reply, Vasily pushed open the door against the force of the violent winds of the night���s storm. Feeling Dr. Hunter place his hand on his shoulder, he moved forward, leading the men down the stairs, and off into the near-zero-visibility of the storm.

  As the gusts of the storm intensified, causing their jackets to buffet violently from the pounding wind, Mason removed his hand from Neville���s shoulder to adjust his goggles, in an effort to regain his sight.

  Slipping and falling onto his rifle, Mason quickly stood, finding that he could no longer reach out and touch Neville. Spinning around while reaching out in all directions, Mason became disoriented as to which direction they had been traveling. The extremely poor visibility caused by the stormy conditions of Antarctica was something Mason had trained for when he first arrived at McMurdo with Dr. Hunter several seasons ago. He recalled his experience in the survival training course they affectionately known as the ���Bucket Head Challenge���, where the students all wore plastic buckets on their heads to simulate a white-out condition, and were forced to navigate as a group without the benefit of sight.

  He felt as helpless in this moment as he did when his training class became disoriented and failed to find the instructor, as was the course objective.

  Feeling a hand grasp his left arm, he said, ���Oh, there you guys are.��� As the hand clinched tighter and tighter and began to cause him pain, Mason heard an animalistic, spine-chilling roar come from the person who gripped him tightly.

  ���Shit!��� Mason yelled as he attempted to pull away. Unable to break the man���s grasp. Mason swung the butt of his rifle around with his free hand, smashing it into his assailant���s face, knocking the man backward.

  As the man fell, Mason was pulled toward him, falling on top of the him. Still unable to see due to the night���s darkness and the blinding storm, and with his rifle now trapped between them, Mason quickly pulled his knife from his belt, flipped open the blade with his thumb and began stabbing at the man repeatedly.

  As his attacker���s struggles began to slow, Mason heard shrieks and cries drawing near, as more of the infected seemed to be communication as they converged on his position.

  With the dying man who lay beneath him releasing one more terrifying scream before succumbing to his wounds, Mason could hear the others begin to converge on his location more rapidly. Wiping his goggles with his glove, all he could see was darkness.

  Feeling a hand grasp him by the shoulder, his heart still racing from the attack, Mason swung around, shoving his knife into his attacker as he heard a familiar voice scream, ���It���s me! Mason, it���s me!���

  To Mason���s horror, his knife had already struck its��� blow. He could feel the warmth of Neville���s blood soaking into his glove.

  Horrified, Mason released the knife and pulled his arm back just as Neville fell onto him in severe pain.

  Standing up with Neville leaning into his shoulder, Mason picked him up and hurried away from the threats in the darkness with his rifle dangling from its sling, bouncing off his legs as he walked.

  ���Vasily! Doc Hunter!��� he shouted, trying to find the rest of his friends.

  ���Mason!��� Dr. Hunter shouted, reaching out to Mason. Still unable to see in the storm, but feeling that Neville was now being carried by Mason, Dr. Hunter pulled on Mason���s parka, saying, ���This way! Come on! Hurry!���

  Closing a door behind them, Vasily lit the way into to the building with his flashlight. As the light shined across Mason���s goggles, all he could see were streaks of blood illuminated by the light. Laying Neville gently on the floor, Mason pulled his bloody snow goggles from his face and threw them across the room. Quickly pulling off his crimson-soaked gloves, he turned his attention back to Neville, who was lying on the floor with both of his hands over a wound in his abdomen.

  ���What the hell happened?��� asked Dr. Hunter as they began to remove Neville���s parka to determine the extent of his injuries.

  ���I couldn���t see!��� Mason said in a trembling voice. ���I fell, and when I was reaching out to find Neville, someone grabbled my arm. I thought it was him, until I heard the man scream as if he was possessed by the soul of a demon. I heard more screams from off in the darkness as if they were homing in on us by sound. I tried fighting the man off, but ended up on top of him on the ground. My only option was my knife, so I began stabbing him. The next thing I knew, I felt another hand on me, and fearing it was from one of the figures advancing on my position, I swung around and��� My God, I stabbed Neville!���

  Looking at Neville���s wound, and then back to Mason, Dr. Hunter asked, ���So, you stabbed him with a knife covered with the blood of your attacker?���

  For a moment, it seemed as if time had slowed as the men looked at each other in horror, each of them realizing the implications of what had happened. Hearing Neville wince in pain, Mason looked down to him and said, ���I���m so sorry, Neville. I���m so sorry.���

  ���Don���t fret about it, mate,��� Neville said, trying his best to talk through the pain. ���You were under attack. I was foolish to reach out for you without identifying myself.��� Interrupted by a blood-filled cough, Neville continued. ���None of this is your fault. We���re surrounded by madness. None of us can help that.���

  Wincing in pain once again, Neville laid his head back onto the floor, and asked, ���Is it bad?���

  Looking over the wound carefully, Dr. Hunter said, ���If we were back home at any other time, I don���t think this would have been too big a deal. But given the circumstances, well������

  ���I know,��� Neville said. ���Don���t worry, Doc. I know.���

  Changing the subject, Vasily said, ���We must move him away from door to back room. Come.���

  Each of the men helped pick Neville up off the floor, then carried him in the direction that Vasily was leading them. Looking around, seeing the tall walls and majestic, timber-framed ceiling, Mason realized they were in the Chapel of the Snows.

  ���Fitting,��� he said.

  ���Huh?��� Dr. Hunter asked.

  ���We���re in the chapel. We all need to do a lot of praying right now.���

  Chapter Seventeen

  Crary Lab

  Huddling together in the Crary Lab���s upstairs lounge and break room, Dr. Graves, Dr. Bentley, Dr. Perkins, and Brett listened as the shuffling footsteps of those they heard ascending the stairs worked their way out onto the mezzanine.

  Making his way toward the stairwell next to the lounge���s kitchen facilities, where they hadn���t heard any movement, Brett whispered, ���I���m gonna take a look. If this stairwell is empty, and if they are all on the mezzanine, this may be our chance to make a break for it.���

  ���Make a b
reak for it?��� Dr. Bentley queried. ���Make a break for what? Where will we go? Aren���t we supposed to be hiding out until our colleagues return?���

  ���Brett���s right,��� Dr. Graves replied.

  ���But Linda, you can���t seriously be considering going out into the storm in the middle of the night. We���d be blind out there. We could be walking right into the arms of one of the infected and wouldn���t even see it coming.���

  ���They aren���t going to stay on the mezzanine forever,��� Dr. Graves replied.

  ���She���s right, Gerald,��� said Dr. Perkins. ���Once they���re done feeding, they���ll be looking for more.���

  Feeling Dr. Graves punch him in the arm, Dr. Perkins recoiled away from her and said, ���Linda, you know that���s what they���re doing. The first one to arrive called for the others. We heard that. We aren���t imagining things. Then they arrived. What if they discover we are in here and call for more? How many more are out there? Two? Five? Ten? Twenty? Hell, there could be a hundred more for all we know. We need to be where they are not. Plain and simple. Dr. Hunter, Mason, and Neville will be able to find us.���

  ���Yeah, they will,��� replied Brett. ���Mason is sharp and has spent a lot of his days tracking big game. I���m sure a set of boot prints will be easy for him to follow.���

  ���That is, of course, unless said boot prints are covered with snow during the storm,��� Dr. Bentley interjected.

  ���We���ll leave them a note on the dry erase board,��� replied Brett. ���We���ll let them know we had to leave and are seeking shelter.���

  Just then, they heard the facility���s heating system winding down, as well as the ever-present electrical buzz created by the research equipment throughout the building going silent, followed by the illumination of the facility���s backup battery powered lights.

  ���Shit, the power���s off,��� Brett said, noticing they could now hear the frenzy taking place out on the mezzanine even more acutely through the silence.

  Speaking up, Dr. Perkins said, ���If we���re gonna get moving, we need to do it quickly. Wherever we end up needs to be a place with a stand-alone heating system that isn���t connected to McMurdo���s grid. We can���t survive here long without heat. Any ideas?���

  Pausing for a moment while they all thought through the situation carefully, Brett said, ���Gallagher���s Pub! Being a lover of all things beer, I got to know several of the bartenders there pretty well. When it was slow, we would often chat about the history of McMurdo. Sam mentioned to me once that Gallagher���s had an old diesel heat-exchanger-style heating system.���

  ���It sure seemed to me like the same forced air that the rest of the buildings have.���

  ���Well, yes. It���s been updated. But the old diesel system still remains.���

  ���Won���t the sound of a diesel engine attract unwanted attention?��� asked Dr. Graves.

  ���It���s not an engine,��� Brett explained. ���There is a burner, like an old gasoline-powered VW bug heater from way back. The burner heats water that is circulated through the pipes in the facility. The water flows through heat exchangers, like the heater of your car, where a fan blows air over the fins of the heat exchanger, extracting the heat from the water. The cooled water then flows back to the burner to be reheated, continuing the cycle. In addition to ensuring they had heat, it also provided a guarantee of keeping the potable water warm enough to never freeze since there was a heat exchanger for a potable water loop as well.���

  ���But what powers the fans?��� Dr. Perkins asked.

  Thinking for a moment, Brett asked, ���Don���t most buildings here have a battery bank for emergency power, just like Crary Lab? If I recall correctly, the batteries are charged by the grid while it is online, keeping them topped off for emergency conditions.���

  ���Ah, yes,��� Dr. Bentley said. ���I do believe you are correct. The wintering-over crew needs emergency power due to the lack of sunlight. If the power goes down, they need adequate lighting until they get things back online, as they have no daylight.���

  ���So, you���re saying we could use the battery power to run the fans?��� asked Dr. Graves.

  ���I don���t see why not,��� Brett said as he scratched his chin. ���The fans may be twelve-volt already, but even if they���re not, each of those systems has an inverter, or at least, they should. Either way, it���s all theory until we give it a try.���

  ���That sounds like a good option,��� said Dr. Bentley. ���Especially since I feel it getting colder in here already.���

  ���Okay, then,��� said Brett as he peeked down into the stairwell. Quietly closing the door after seeing that their path was clear, he said, ���Okay, suit up for the cold. The wind is really pounding out there.

  Walking over to the kitchen area, Brett began to look through the cabinets.

  ���What is it that you are looking for, if I may enquire?��� Dr. Bentley asked as he watched Brett with curiosity.

  ���Ah, this will do,��� Brett replied, pulling an electrical extension cord from underneath the sink. ���Visibility is going to be poor to say the least. We can each hang on to this cord to make sure we don���t lose our way, just like the rope in survival school.���

  ���Ah, yes, that was a quite the debacle, wasn���t it?��� said Dr. Bentley as he not-so-fondly recalled his time in survival school.

  Once everyone was dressed in their outer layers and gloves, with their goggles on their heads ready to don upon exiting the building, Brett said, ���Okay, let���s go. Let���s keep in mind that without the buzzes and hums that typically permeate this building, we have got to use extra diligence to move quietly. The last thing we want to do is turn this into a chase in the dark.���

  Leading them down the stairs, Brett paused at the first landing and stopped, listening before continuing. Giving them the signal to proceed, he heard a metallic clang that resonated throughout the stairwell. Looking back at Dr. Bentley, he saw him holding his makeshift spear, mouthing the word, sorry.

  Continuing down the stairs to the lower landing, Brett heard commotion from the upper floor, followed by sounds of scuffling in the primary stairwell. ���They���re coming down,��� he said. ���Let���s go!���

  Opening the door, Brett and the others were immediately pounded by the violent winds. Stumbling backward, he lowered his snow goggles and waved them forward as they stepped into the darkness of the night and into the unknown.

  ~~~~

  Chapel of the Snows

  With Neville���s bleeding controlled from the use of fabric found in the back room of the chapel, as well as duct tape from one of the supply cabinets, Dr. Hunter sat next to him while Vasily stood watch and Mason searched the building for items of use.

  ���I don���t feel so well,��� Neville said. ���I���m starting to get the chills.���

  ���We���re all starting to get the chills, Neville. It���s getting cold around here with the power being down.���

  ���Thank you for your attempt at calming my nerves, but I can tell the difference. I���m not well. The knife had to have pierced my intestines. I know the outcome of such an injury without immediate emergency medical care, of which we have none, and none is coming.���

  ���Nonsense, Neville,��� Dr. Hunter quickly replied. ���I know only you can really tell how you feel, but I also know that a lot of people have survived a lot of things when others told them they wouldn���t. You can���t give up in your own mind.
That���s the most powerful weapon you have right now. You have to maintain the will to struggle through the pain and hang on until we can get help. You don���t know that help isn���t coming. The radio operator at Black Island told us the military was getting involved. They may be on their way here right now.���

  Wincing in pain, Neville began to speak, but was interrupted as Mason came through the door carrying a cardboard box.

  Setting the box down next to them, Mason said, ���I found some ceremonial candles. Also, in the emergency medical kit on the wall, I found a few space blankets. If we take the rest of that duct tape and use some chairs or other such things, we should be able to tape the blankets together and make a small shelter to keep the heat from the candles in to keep him warm. It���ll be like a kid���s blanket fort.���

  Looking up to see Vasily enter the room in the flickering light of the candles, Dr. Hunter asked, ���Well, what did you see?���

  ���See?��� Vasily replied. ���I see nothing. Too dark. Too stormy. I hear though, and I believe one of them followed us.���

  ���How do you know that?��� asked Mason.

  ���I can hear it breathe between wind gusts. On other side of door. It breathes with���how you say it? Phlegm in chest. Is there. I am sure.���

  Reluctantly, Mason looked at Dr. Hunter and asked, ���Doc, when I was out there with the one that grabbed my arm, it screamed out, bringing the rest to us. Do you think������

  ���Yes,��� Dr. Hunter quickly replied. ���I���ve been thinking the same thing. He was calling for the others.���

  ���But how? How is that possible?��� Mason asked. ���How could microbial life take such control over someone���s actions? I mean, I understand the rabies-like behavior, but communications and teamwork? It���s almost like they���re changing���or evolving���right before our eyes.���