by Steven Bird
Hearing Dr. Perkins continue to crunch his crackers in the darkness, Brett said, ���Oh, well, I guess I should be happy I���ve had the chance to see both the northern and southern lights in my lifetime. It���s been a good run.���
Swallowing his crackers, Dr. Perkins said, ���You sound as if you���re giving up.���
���No, not giving up, just accepting our reality for what it is,��� Brett said. ���Don���t get me wrong. I���ll struggle and fight for survival until the end, but I���ll be at peace when that end comes.���
���Well, don���t give in to the peace too soon. The rest of us need you,��� Dr. Perkins replied. ���Are you ready for a break?��� he added. ���I���m already up. I may as well sit and look at the lights for a while so you can sleep.���
���Sure thing, Doc. And thanks,��� Brett replied as he gratefully accepted the opportunity to put his busy mind to bed.
~~~~
Feeling Ivan shudder to a stop, Mason sat up and looked around. Seeing light coming from over the horizon, he felt somewhat relieved that the relative warmth of daylight would soon be upon them as Ivan fell silent, finally running out of fuel.
Walking to the front of the bus, Mason tapped on Ivan���s fuel gauge in a ceremonial act of futility, and said, ���Yep, he���s bone dry.���
���They never came,��� Dr. Graves said in a somber voice. ���Nathan and Vasily never came.���
Changing the subject, Mason said, ���Okay, everyone,��� as the group crawled out of their sleeping positions. ���I know some of you may feel the urge to go to the bathroom, but we really can���t afford to lose any of our heat. We can���t open the door for any reason. We need to retain what heat we have inside, as well as any greenhouse heat that we may be blessed with from the sun, until Dr. Hunter and Vasily arrive.���
���But what if they don���t arrive?��� asked Dr. Perkins.
���We���ll cross that bridge when we get to it,��� Mason replied.
Dr. Bentley spoke up, saying, ���We appreciate your positive attitude, but I do believe we are sitting in the middle of that bridge at this very moment. Crossing it is no longer a future proposition.���
���There aren���t many options left,��� Mason replied. ���Which is why I feel it in my gut that we have to stay the course and have faith that Dr. Hunter and Vasily will arrive.���
���And if they don���t?��� Dr. Perkins again asked.
���What is your suggestion, Doctor?��� Mason retorted. ���I���m just a lowly graduate student here to assist Dr. Hunter, yet you look to me for leadership? My, how quickly that title reverts to nothing when the shit hits the fan.���
���Dude,��� Brett said, attempting to get Mason���s attention before his temper could get the best of him.
Looking toward Brett, the two shared a look of mutual understanding as Mason said, ���I���m sorry. This is all just getting to me. I never set out to be the rock for other people to lean on. I���ve just been being me.���
Clearing his throat, Dr. Perkins said, ���You have no reason to apologize. You are right. Everything you said is right, and so far, everything you have done has been right, or at least, the best choice given the circumstances. You have become a rock on which other people lean because that is who you are. Title or no title, you are that kind of man, and I admire you for it.���
With a half-hearted smile, Mason said, ���Thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence.���
As silence fell throughout the group, the temperature felt as if it dropped with each passing moment that Ivan was no longer generating heat. Soon, everyone was shivering and huddled into a group in the center of the bus.
���I���ve got an idea,��� Brett said. ���Let���s pull the cushions off the seats and build a shelter out of them. The padding in the cushions will provide some insulation. It will be like a seat-cushion igloo. Hopefully, it will be enough to retain some of our collective body heat.���
Following Brett���s recommendation, the group removed each seat cushion from its frame and began stacking them around two rows of seats. Squeezing into the area, Dr. Graves, Dr. Perkins, Dr. Bentley, Tasha, Brett, and Mason all huddled together.
���I think it���s working,��� Tasha said. ���A little, at least.���
���We���ll still be cold, but not as cold,��� Brett replied. ���Just think about how much shivering someone does in a snow shelter when they���re trying to survive a cold night. They never truly feel warm, but they have a better chance in there than they do out in the open, exposed to the elements.���
Brett���s remarks echoed through the minds of the group as everyone conserved their energy and held tightly to one another, awaiting whatever fate may come their way.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Outskirts of McMurdo Station
After a half-hour of being huddled together underneath their seat-cushion shelter, Tasha perked up and asked through her chattering teeth, ���What���s that?���
Hearing a rumble off in the distance, Mason stood up, knocking a section of their pillow fort to the floor as he rushed to the back of the bus to get a glimpse of what might be heading their way.
���It���s them!��� he shouted. ���It���s a PistenBully! They made it!���
The seat cushion shelter toppled like toy blocks as the group rushed to join Mason in the back of the bus.
Pulling alongside Ivan the Terra Bus, the driver���s door of the PistenBully opened to reveal Vasily behind the controls and Dr. Hunter riding along with rifle in hand. Exiting the vehicle, Dr. Hunter was immediately met by an anxious and relieved Dr. Graves, who embraced him with a warm hug.
���Oh, thank God you made it,��� she said with relief in her voice.
���We almost didn���t,��� he replied.
���What happened?��� asked Mason. ���What the hell took you guys so long?���
���Is long story,��� Vasily replied. ���Tell later. We go now. Long trip ahead.���
Walking up to Dr. Hunter, Dr. Perkins said, ���You guys arrived just in time. We ran out of fuel last night keeping the heat going. It was starting to get awfully damn cold inside. Ivan was starting to feel like a deep freezer. Brett and Mason here did a damn fine job of holding down the fort while you were gone, too.���
���I wouldn���t expect anything less,��� Dr. Hunter replied, glancing a smile at both men.
Squeezing into the crowded PistenBully, the group quickly got underway on their journey to Black Island. Soaking in the warmth from the Pistenbully���s very effective heating system, Dr. Bentley asked, ���Might I ask how long our trek to Black Island will take?���
Brett spoke up, saying, ���I���ve been there several times while on past assignments. I never actually had a working reason to go, but I had friends who took me along for the fun of it. Black Island is actually only twenty or so miles from here, but the only passable route is far from being a straight line.���
Turning back to Dr. Bentley, Vasily added, ���We go on ice shelf. Only way.���
���It���s about five hours because the long way around ends up being over fifty miles, and this thing isn���t a speed demon,��� Brett added. ���Just sit back and relax, and rest assured you won���t come across any living beings between here and there.���
���It could take all week and I wouldn���t mind as long as the heater keeps working,��� Dr. Perkins replied with a chuckle.
Smiling, Dr. Graves flipped through her notes that she had been carryin
g with her. Tucking them neatly back into her jacket pocket, she said, ���I agree with you on that.���
���What���s that?��� Dr. Hunter asked.
���Oh, it���s just something I���ve been working on since the beginning,��� she replied. ���I���m just trying to make sense of…���
Interrupted by an ominous thud coming from the direction of McMurdo Station, the group crowded the rear window of the PistenBully to see large, black plumes of smoke emanating from McMurdo as several more thuds were both heard and felt, followed by several high-speed jets screeching overhead.
���What the hell!?��� Brett shouted as the jets arced back toward McMurdo for what seemed to be another pass.
Several more explosions erupted as the jets passed overhead and turned back to the north, disappearing out of sight. Before anyone could speak, another wave of aircraft began pounding the station, this time hitting the fuel storage tanks, sending plumes of fire and dark smoke high into the sky.
���Whose are they?��� Mason shouted.
���No way to tell,��� Brett said. ���They may be F-18���s, or F-16���s. I dunno.���
���Why? Why would they be doing this?��� Tasha asked frantically.
���Eradication,��� Dr. Hunter replied as he watched in horror at the scene that was unfolding back at McMurdo.
After a few more minutes of bombardment, more impacts and explosions could be heard and seen off in the distance, with the thick, black smoke contrasting against the icy, white color that blanketed the continent.
���My God,��� Dr. Bentley said quietly, as if in disbelief. ���They���re hitting all the research stations.���
���That���s Zucchelli, the Italian base at Terra Nova,��� Dr. Perkins said, pointing at a billowing black cloud off in the distance.
Rubbing his face with his hands, Dr. Hunter wiped his lips and said, ���Things must be worse than we thought out there. If they are resorting to this������
���Yeah, the only way governments could justify such actions is if the crisis had reached epic proportions!��� Brett interrupted with excitement. ���They could only do this when the public no longer gives a shit about touchy-feely political correctness and the opinions of the talking heads of the twenty-four-hour news cycle. This is all-out war against the outbreak! That tells us everything we need to know.���
���Get out of vehicle!��� shouted Vasily as he leaped onto the snow, waving frantically for the others to follow.
���Wait, what?��� questioned Tasha. ���But…why?���
Shoving her out the door, Brett took her by the hand, helped her to her feet, and led her away from the PistenBully as an F/A-18 arced across the sky, turning toward their position as if it were positioning itself to target them as well.
Bearing down on them at a high rate of speed, the group stopped and began waving frantically to the aircraft, as if getting the pilot���s attention could somehow thwart the attack.
As the jet streaked toward them, it pulled up and banked hard to the right, arcing around and away from them as if it was about to make a second pass.
���He didn���t shoot!��� Dr. Graves shouted. ���Why didn���t he shoot?���
Bearing down on the PistenBully once more, the pilot flew by at a mere fifty-feet above the ground, rocked his wings, and then pulled away, quickly disappearing into the smoky haze of the distance.
���What the hell just happened?��� Dr. Perkins asked.
���He had a conscience,��� Dr. Hunter replied. ���Our actions, recognizing him as a threat and then running away while trying to get his attention, must have clued him in that we were free from the infection. My guess is his finger was brushing the trigger, twitching and ready to fire, but he couldn���t bring himself to kill innocent people. I guarantee that level of discretion wasn���t in his orders.���
���He killed us anyway,��� Vasily said in a cold, even voice. ���We just die slow, now.
~~~~
Black Island Telecommunications Facility
���What���s wrong?��� Charles Koch, Black Island electronics and radio communications technician, asked.
Staring blankly at the radio transmitter for a moment, and then scanning the racks of microwave, satellite, and HF radio equipment, Black Island Station Manager Louis Radcliff, or Lou, replied, ���I don���t know. I just don���t know.���
Leaning back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair as his hat fell to the floor, Lou said, ���Alaskacom is down, the microwave link to Mac-Town is down, and our HF radios are picking up nothing but dead air. At this point, if I went to the kitchen to nuke a burrito, the damn microwave oven probably wouldn���t work, either. I���ve never seen anything like this. I mean… sometimes, we���ll see disruptions in one system or another due to natural phenomena, but not all three. Not all at the same time, and certainly not at this level. We���re���for the first time in my twenty years coming down to Black Island���completely in the dark.���
Walking over to the rack of HF radios, looking them over in an act of futility, Charles said, ���Do you think we���re being affected by some sort of catastrophe up north? With all the chaos that���s going on due to the outbreak, do you think a nuclear facility has been compromised or something? Maybe even an intentional nuclear blast detonated to contain the virus or whatever the hell it is?���
���I… I just don���t know,��� Lou said, placing his forehead against the table. ���I don���t even wanna think about that shit right now. We���re fucked, Chuck. That���s all I know. We���re fucked.���
���Ah, man, don���t give up on us so fast,��� Charles said.
���I���m not giving up at all, Charles,��� Lou replied. ���I���ll man this facility until the end. The people at Mac-Town may desperately need to contact the outside world. Whether it���s to transmit vital scientific information that may be related to what���s going on, or if they just need to call for help. I���m not sure what help we could wrangle up for them, but we can���t just walk away from our responsibilities here.���
���Not that we have anywhere to walk to,��� Charles replied.
���Regardless, I���ll be right here,��� Lou assured, lifting his head off the desk. ���Like a captain going down with his ship. I���ll keep this place running to matter what, just in case. B.I. has been good to me. I owe it to her to keep her running. I… I just need to stay. I have responsibilities.���
���I���m getting kind of hungry,��� Charles said, trying to change the subject. ���How ���bout we try out your microwave-oven theory and nuke up something to eat? Unless, as you theorized, it���s down as well,��� he said with a grin.
���Nuke? Hell, let���s cook up something right. How about a homemade pizza? I need to cleanse my mind with carbs.���
Hearing a thud off in the distance before Charles had a chance to reply, the two men shared a look of concern as Lou said, ���What the fuck was that?���
Donning their parkas, gloves, and goggles, the two men ran to the door, pushing it open against the fierce winds that consistently pounded the facility at Black Island. Running outside, looking toward McMurdo Station, they could see black smoke billowing up over the horizon.
���What the hell?��� Charles said, shouting over the strong, pounding winds.
Before Lou could respond, they started seeing plumes of black smoke rising from other locations in the distance. Speechless, they stood there, unable to grasp the situation fully.
After a few moments of bewilderment, L
ou said, ���If something happened at McMurdo, with fuel storage or the like, it would all be coming from right there,��� he said, pointing. ���But that���s Zucchelli, and that���s Amundson-Scott, that���s Casey Station, that���s…���
Before he could finish, a jet appeared from over the horizon, streaking toward them.
���There���s help!��� Charles shouted. ���They���re sending help!
���That���s not help,��� Lou replied. ���They jammed us. They���ve been fucking jamming us with electronic countermeasures.���
���But why?��� Charles asked, looking at Lou in bewilderment as an AGM-88 High-Speed Anti-Radiation Missile (HARM) detached from the outboard pylon of the approaching EA-18G Growler.
���Fucking bastards! They fucking lied to me!��� shouted Lou as the HARM smashed into the eleven-meter Intelsat ground station, sending debris crashing into the men, hurling them both into a world of darkness as their bodies fell to the icy, cold ground of Black Island.
Chapter Twenty-Five
McMurdo Ice Shelf
Standing in shock and disbelief, the group gazed across the frozen landscape of Antarctica at the black towers of smoke, billowing up from what used to be research stations sponsored and maintained by countries from all over the world.
���I… I can���t believe it,��� Dr. Graves said, breaking the silence now that the bombing had stopped.
Pivoting around, looking at each plume, Dr. Perkins said, ���Well, that���s it.���
���What do you mean, that���s it?��� Dr. Hunter asked.