by Steven Bird
Turning to the group, he then said, ���Everyone, get your cold weather gear on. You may have to get out of the building in a hurry, and you won���t last long out there without it.���
Looking to Mason, he said, ���Only fire your rifle if you must. We don���t want to attract more attention than we���re already receiving. Everyone else, get your improvised weapons ready as well. Brett, you take the extra rifle we brought back. I know you can handle it.���
Turning to Phillip, Brett asked, ���Phil, where���s the exhaust outlet for the diesel burner?���
���It���s back here,��� Phillip said, leading Brett into the spirits storage room. Walking to the back of the room, Phillip opened what appeared to be a closet door. Inside was the diesel-fired water heater, surrounded by thick layers of insulation along the walls, with piping going in several directions.
With the door open, the sound of the burner and the water flowing through the piping could be heard clearly. ���Wow,��� Brett said. ���That thick insulation really dampens the sound. So, is that the exhaust for the combustion chamber?��� he said, pointing at a six-inch section of tubular duct work that appeared to exit the side of the building through a heat shield.
���Yeah, the dumpster is right on the other side of this wall. It comes out above that.���
Looking around, Brett asked, ���Are there any windows where you can see the dumpster area?���
���There are no windows here because it is secure storage, but if you go into the staff restroom just off the kitchen, there is a small window that lets in some sunlight. It���s not transparent glass, though, but privacy glass.���
���Show me,��� Brett said as the two men began working their way toward the kitchen.
Entering the restroom, Brett looked up to see the small window that Phillip had been referring to. Stepping up and onto the toilet to reach the window, Brett attempted to look through the frosted glass. Unable to see at first, he wiped off the dust buildup that had apparently been accumulating for quite some time. With a clean spot now on the window, he looked again, this time seeing several figures moving around near the exhaust outlet of the diesel-fired boiler.
���Yep, they found it,��� he said as he stepped down from the toilet. ���Let���s go tell the others.���
Reaching the main bar room, Brett said, ���They found us, or they found a source of heat, that is.���
���All living creatures have the same needs,��� said Dr. Bentley. ���When the power went down, they too must have been forced to find a heat source.���
���That���s exactly right,��� said Dr. Graves. ���There is a reason they were confined to the fumaroles of Erebus. They need heat just as much as we do, and just outside of there was a frigid, unrelenting cold. They were kept captive deep within the mountain until we freed them.���
���The god of primordial darkness,��� Mason said, referring to the ancient Greek root of the volcano���s name.
���Yes, very fitting, indeed,��� replied Dr. Bentley.
Interrupted by the sound of an impact against the back door, Dr. Perkins said, ���What the hell was that?���
���I would imagine they are probing the building and looking for a way in,��� replied Dr. Hunter.
���They may not even know we���re in here,��� said Tasha. ���If they are seeking warmth, that is. Maybe they just found a source of warmth and haven���t caught on to our presence, yet.���
���I doubt it,��� Mason said, looking out a crack in the blinds toward the lone figure that still stood approximately fifty yards in front of Gallagher���s. ���If he���s a distraction, which is one of our two known possibilities for his behavior, it���s because they know there is someone who needs distracting.���
���Either way, we need to move on,��� replied Dr. Hunter. ���Whether they are on to us or not, they���ll eventually get inside, and when they do��� well, you all know how that���s gonna go.���
���What���s the plan?��� asked Dr. Graves. ���What are our alternatives that will provide us with a source of heat that they won���t be able to discover yet again?���
���Black Island!��� answered Dr. Perkins. ���If we can get out of here unscathed, we can take a PistenBully to Black Island. You guys said you spoke with the staff out there, right? Those guys are set up for long-term stays, with food, water, heat, and everything they need to safely remain isolated during times of inclement weather. They were isolated enough not to be exposed.���
���That���s a damn fine idea,��� replied Dr. Hunter. ���But we���ll need to take as much food as we can carry from here. We can���t show up at Black Island potentially needing to spend the winter there on the supplies they have for two or three people. I���m sure they won���t appreciate facing an early starvation because we ate too deeply into their supplies.���
���What���s a PistenBully?��� asked Tasha.
���It���s one of those red, tracked vehicles you see going out into the snow. They���re made to travel in this sort of extreme cold across snow and ice,��� replied Brett. ���I���ve gone out in them before, and they���re quite cozy inside. Bumpy, but cozy. They can fit a driver and eight passengers, too.���
Dr. Perkins added, ���They only average around eleven miles per hour, but they���ll get us there. They���ve got onboard GPS as well, which will help if visibility stays as low as it has been lately.���
���I���m all for getting the hell out of Mac-Town,��� Tasha replied, satisfied with their answer. ���Especially if no one has been infected out there.���
���I think the debate is settled,��� said Dr. Graves. ���Let���s do as Nathan recommended and gather as much food as we can carry.���
Working their way through the shelves in Gallagher���s walk-in pantry, the group filled several sacks with everything they could find that could be seen as having nutritional benefit.
���I guess we���re gonna survive the winter on bar food,��� said Mason, shoving a bag of sweet southern barbeque-flavored pork rinds into his sack.
���Surviving is the key word,��� replied Phillip, as he too filled a sack. ���That���s all that matters at this point.���
Interrupted by the sound of an impact against the front door, Mason said, ���What the hell?��� as he ran back into the bar room.
���They definitely know we���re here,��� said Dr. Hunter with his AR-15 held at the ready, facing the door.
As another impact hit the door, nearly busting it open against the lock and hinges that appeared to be weakening with every blow, Dr. Hunter said, ���There is a group of them outside, ramming the door in unison. It���s a coordinated effort. There���s no doubt about that anymore.���
Hearing a thump against the back door as well, Brett asked, ���So, how do we get out of here?���
Looking around, Dr. Hunter replied, ���Any ideas?��� as the back door violently smashed open.
���They���re in! They���re in the building!��� Tasha screamed.
Running toward the back door, Mason raised his AR-15 and fired several slow, deliberate shots, dropping each of the infected that entered the building.
Another smash against the front door came as the assault appeared to intensify.
Just then, the roar of a diesel engine could be heard barreling toward them. ���What the hell is that?��� Brett said as he approached a window to get a look at the source of the sound. His investigation, however, was brought to an early
end as the bloody fist of one of their attackers came smashing through the window, followed by several more windows throughout the building.
���Shit!��� Brett shouted as he attempted to hold them off with one of the group���s makeshift spears, having left the extra rifle in the other room.
As the high-velocity 5.56 NATO rounds from both Mason and Dr. Hunter���s AR-15���s began discharging simultaneously, the noise was deafening in the enclosed confines of the building.
As Tasha screamed in horror, Phillip ran to her side, picked up a nearby bar stool, and held off one of the infected that had breached the building through one of the windows.
Hearing a crashing noise overhead, the group turned to see the roof of Gallagher���s being peeled away by the bucket of a large, Caterpillar articulated bucket loader. The gigantic machine tore away the building���s roof as if it was merely paper m��ch��.
Once a large section of the roof had been removed, the enormous bucket was lowered inside as the machine shoved against the building���s front wall.
Hearing a familiar voice shout in a thick, Russian accent, ���Get in! Get in bucket!��� Mason motioned for the group to do as instructed. While standing by the bucket, he fired shots at the attackers who were now getting to within feet of them, overrunning the building like a swarm of locusts.
Dr. Graves, Dr. Bentley, Dr. Perkins, Dr. Hunter, Brett, and Phillip were all inside the bucket as it began lifting upward. As Tasha struggled to climb inside, one of the attackers grabbed her boot, pulling her onto the floor. Without hesitation, Phillip leaped down to help her, lifting her to the bucket, securing her safety just before being overwhelmed by the infected.
As the bucket was raised out of harm���s way, Tasha held on for dear life as the others pulled her to safety. Looking down at Phillip as he screamed in terror, being consumed alive by the infected, Mason aimed his rifle at Phillip while Tasha screamed in agony, reaching out in vain for her beloved friend.
Unable to pull the trigger, Mason lowered his rifle as a shot rang out, striking Phillip directly in the forehead, exploding his head and ending his misery.
Looking over to Dr. Hunter, with the smoke from the shot still emanating from of his barrel, Mason simply nodded.
Dr. Hunter lowered his rifle, and said, ���It was the only choice. It had to be done.���
Chapter Twenty
Bouncing in the large, steel bucket of the Caterpillar articulated bucket loader as it raced away from Gallagher���s Pub, Dr. Graves asked, ���Is that your friend?���
���Yeah, that���s Vasily,��� Dr. Hunter replied.
���Where is he taking us?���
���I have no idea, but that man has proven himself to be very resourceful and capable. I would gladly go anywhere he felt was safe,��� replied Dr. Hunter in a confident tone.
Speeding past Crary Lab, heading southwest toward the thick ice that covered the Ross Sea, Vasily swerved between buildings, running over or through a few pallets of pre-positioned freight that never made it aboard the transport to its intended destination.
On the outskirts of McMurdo Station, Vasily drove the large, industrial yellow Caterpillar down a gently sloping incline and onto the ice of the Ross Sea. Continuing out onto the ice while paralleling the shoreline, Vasily tilted the bucket in an attempt to shield its occupants from the sub-zero winds blowing in from the ocean just beyond the ice.
Making a turn back onto land after approximately one mile, Vasily made an arcing turn to the left and proceeded back toward McMurdo Station. With Mac-Town now visible once again through the snow and ice-covered windshield of the loader, Vasily began to slow and brought the heavy machine to a gentle stop, lowering the bucket to the ground.
Climbing down from the heated cab of the machine, Vasily rushed to the bucket. ���Quickly, climb inside. Is warm. Get warm,��� he shouted, pointing to the steel steps leading up to the fully enclosed cab.
As Dr. Graves, Dr. Bentley, Dr. Perkins, Tasha, and Brett rushed to the cab, squeezing themselves inside, Dr. Hunter and Mason both greeted Vasily with gratitude.
Patting Vasily on the shoulder with his heavy winter glove, Dr. Hunter shouted through the howling winds, ���We are damn glad to see you, old friend.���
���How did you know where we were?��� asked Mason.
���You were making enough noise for everyone to find you,��� replied Vasily. ���Crack of rifle travels far. Cuts through wind. I hear clearly.���
Looking up to the cab where his friends were desperately trying to warm themselves, Dr. Hunter shivered and asked, ���What now? Where are we going?���
���I told you. I have safe place,��� replied Vasily. ���Once everyone has chance to warm, I take you. Had to get away from infected. Now, we sneak back in.���
Once everyone had their turn in the heated cab of the huge Caterpillar, they once again climbed into the safety of the bucket as Vasily proceeded closer to McMurdo. Once on the outskirts of the station to the southeast, he lowered the bucket to the ground, shut off the engine, and climbed down to join the others.
���Hope we not need again. Engine will not start in cold after shut down for long time,��� he said, pointing to the huge machine.
���How did you get it started to get to us?��� Mason asked.
���Propane engine warmer,��� he replied.
Pointing to McMurdo, he said, ���Come, we go before we freeze.���
~~~~
Reaching the edge of McMurdo on foot, the group stopped in the cluster of diesel and jet-fuel storage tanks reaching out to the southeast from the station. After a few moments observing and looking for potential threats, Vasily motioned the group to move forward, following along behind.
Pausing, he pointed to the rifle that he still carried, saying to Dr. Hunter, Mason, and now Brett, ���Use only if you must. Like I found you, so will they.��� Pointing to the makeshift weapons carried by the others, he said, ���Use first. Use rifle only if no other choice.���
Seeing that everyone understood, Vasily led the group forward, past the paint barn and the cold food storage buildings to building 637, the construction storage warehouse. ���Follow in my footsteps. Do not step outside of them,��� he said insistently.
Looking around both sides of the building and seeing that they were alone, he opened the door and led the others inside.
Once inside, the group saw the storage of construction supplies and materials of every sort. From metal sheets, tubing, and wood, any of McMurdo���s building projects could be supplied from there.
Pointing to a large section of sheet metal with an X pattern cut in several places, Vasily explained, ���I make these and put underneath snow outside. If you step on X, your foot slips through, pushing the triangular cuts downward. When you try pull foot out, metal holds you, cutting leg. Is good trap.���
Walking over to a large, roll-around metal supply cart, Vasily began pushing it out of the way as Mason noticed a piece of cord running from the cart and into a gap in the floor between two wooden planks.
Leaning down and working his fingers into the gap, Vasily lifted what they saw to be a hidden door, leading into a chamber beneath them. Pointing, Vasily said, ���Quickly. Inside.���
Climbing down a ladder fabricated from scrap pieces of metal tubing, the group found a six-foot by ten-foot space beneath the floor stocked with food, water, and medical supplies, as well as cots for sleeping.
Once everyone was safely inside, Vasily closed the panel overhead and pulled on the cord, causing the metal supply cart to once again roll into position over the entrance to the compartment.
���Wow,��� Mason said, looking around. ���How did you know this was here? And why is it here?���
���I know, and only I know,�
��� Vasily responded. ���I built myself.���
���How did you dig out a hole underneath a building with no one noticing?���
Sitting down on a supply crate, Vasily ignited an indoor-safe kerosene heater, illuminating the space with a soft, red glow, and said, ���I work many late nights. I also worked as winter-over crew. During winter, when only two-hundred people here, it easy to slip away and work on project. As fabricator, I have all tools necessary to do what I wish.���
Speaking up, Dr. Bentley said, ���If I may be so bold as to inquire, why on Earth would you dedicate so much time to doing such a thing? And here, at McMurdo? You had no way of knowing this would happen.���
Nodding and taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Vasily said, ���In Soviet military, I experienced many things. Many things in places people such as you never hear of. I see many bad things. I do many bad things that haunt me to this day. Most important lesson of this was that comfort and security very fragile. Is not rule of things, but the… how you say it? Exception. Yes, not rule but exception. Suffering is always on other side of corner. You may walk around corner any time. You do not know when.���
Clearing his throat, still clearly haunted by his memories, Vasily continued, ���Even in Soviet Union, my home, I see many people starve.���
���After the collapse?��� Dr. Bentley asked.
���Some, yes, but not all. Soviet government used food as weapon against own people. My parents did not die of old age. They died from hunger. They starved to death, victims of iron fist of government and chose to starve people to secure power over others. Government controlled all food. Government controlled everything. I not let that happen to me. I control me. No one else.
���I come here to escape rest of world. I did not want reminders of past. Rest of world haunt me too badly. Everywhere I looked, I saw suffering that had yet to come, but would… someday.
���Here, my mind could be free of nightmares. People here different. People here come, like me, to escape, or like you, to learn. Feeling of safety soon felt like trap. Global politics soon worked way into science, reminding me that I was at mercy of someone else, somewhere safe and warm, pulling strings of rest of world like marionettes. Maybe I���m just paranoid? If so, I have reason to be.���