Erebus: An Apocalyptic Thriller

by Steven Bird

  Seeing her body suddenly jerk down against the rubble, Brett slung his rifle over his shoulder and ran straight for her, leaping from beam to beam, scurrying up the jagged, wire-and-pipe riddled debris pile as fast as he could.

  Screaming, Dr. Bentley shouted, ���Brett! Help me! Oh, dear God, help me!���

  Arriving at her location, Brett looked into the debris below and saw the hand of one of the infected pulling on Dr. Graves��� boot. Her leg was bending against an obstruction, causing her intense pain as her knee was being hyperextended to a very unnatural position.

  Being out of reach from his knife or axe, Brett aimed his rifle at the creature���s hand and squeezed the trigger, striking it in the wrist. With the hand still gripping firmly onto her boot, he fired another shot, severing the hand, freeing her from the creature���s tight embrace.

  Frantic and in pain, Dr. Graves did not waver from her mission. Tossing her bag to Brett, she said, ���Get me a sample dish,��� as she pulled out her knife and began removing a portion of the hand which was still gripping her boot. ���Luckily, being nearly frozen, there wasn���t much material splatter from your shots. We may not have been exposed. I���ll remove my boots and toss them as soon as we make it back, just to be sure,��� she said.

  Once her sample was safely inside her container, she tossed her contaminated knife into the debris pile and said, ���Okay, we���ve got it. Let���s go.���

  Standing next to her, Brett reached out his hand to help her to her feet as she winced in pain. ���Shit! My knee,��� she said, unable to put weight on it.

  ���Suffer through it,��� he said. ���When we get to the ground, I���ll carry you, but I need you to help me get you off the heap.���

  Working their way down, she winced and cried out in pain with every step and every movement.

  ���Come on,��� he said. ���We���re almost there.���

  Looking up, Dr. Graves saw the infected bodies of the residents of the dormitory building working their way out of the rubble. ���Shit!��� she screamed, ���Hurry!���

  ���There must be a pocket or area under the rubble where they���ve hived back up,��� he replied.

  Realizing they wouldn���t make it to the ground at their current pace, he leaped toward Dr. Graves, landed on a broken beam, and threw her over his shoulder with his rifle in one hand while holding on to her legs with his other.

  Leaping to the ground, his legs collapsed under the weight of the impact, causing the two of them to roll on the soot-covered ice and snow. Quickly sitting up, aiming his rifle at the closest of their pursuers, Brett aimed and squeezed off several shots as he realized they were quickly being surrounded. The infected were crawling out of the debris like cockroaches, some of which were missing arms and showing signs of severe trauma from the attacks.

  ���Fuck!��� he shouted. ���I don���t even have enough ammo to deal with all of them.���

  ~~~~

  Warming themselves in the cozy passenger compartment of the running PistenBully, the group patiently waited for Brett and Dr. Graves��� return.

  ���How long will be flight?��� Vasily asked Mark.

  ���It depends on the winds aloft, but it should be approximately������

  With the conversation interrupted by the sounds of gunfire in the distance, Dr. Hunter jumped up, banging his head against the low ceiling of the vehicle. ���It���s them!��� he shouted. ���We���ve got to help them!���

  Opening the door and jumping out, Dr. Hunter slipped and fell in his haste. Quickly getting up and dusting the snow off his rifle, he heard Vasily say, ���Dr. Hunter, I go. You stay with others.���

  ���Hell, no, I���m not staying! They need us! They need all of us!��� Dr. Hunter shouted frantically.

  ���I���m going, too!��� demanded Dr. Bentley.

  Looking to the others as they exited the vehicle, Vasily said, ���Pilot! You stay with Tasha.��� Pointing to Dr. Perkins, he said, ���You stay as well. Mason, you make sure they get out of here if we do not return.���

  ���Hell, no, I���m going!��� Mason shouted.

  With a serious look on his face, Vasily said, ���No! Someone must survive. All of this cannot be for nothing! Dr. Graves left notes and data behind. See that they get put to good use wherever you go. I trust you to get them out of here if we do not return. Do not let me down.���

  Nodding that he understood, Mason and Dr. Perkins watched as Vasily, Dr. Hunter, and Dr. Bentley ran toward the sound of the gunshots, disappearing into the smoke.

  Nearing the area from where the gunshots had come, Vasily handed his rifle to Dr. Bentley, and said, ���Go! Hurry! I catch up!���

  ���What are you doing?��� Dr. Hunter asked, confused by Vasily���s sudden change of course.

  ���Go!��� Vasily demanded.

  Running on ahead, Dr. Hunter and Dr. Bentley emerged from the smoke to find Dr. Graves sitting on the ground while Brett stood beside her, firing into the advancing crowd of the infected.

  ���Come and get me, you sons of bitches!��� Dr. Hunter yelled as he began firing into the group.

  While some in the group turned their attention to Dr. Hunter and Dr. Bentley, others ignored their distraction and continued advancing toward Brett and Dr. Graves.

  Firing their rifles as best they could, dropping many of the infected, Dr. Bentley, unfamiliar with firearms, shouted, ���I���m empty! I���m out!���

  Dropping the spent magazine from his own AR-15 to the ground, Dr. Hunter quickly reloaded, chambered a round, and handed it to Dr. Bentley, taking his empty weapon and quickly reloading it as well.

  With both of them back in the fight, they once again fired continuously, dropping many of their attackers. Looking to Brett when they heard him shout, ���I���m out! I���m empty!��� a feeling of helplessness swept through Dr. Hunter and Dr. Bentley as they watched the group close in on their two friends.

  ���Damn it! What do we do?��� shouted Dr. Hunter, realizing they were severely outnumbered.

  Just then, from out of his peripheral vision, Dr. Hunter saw Vasily running full force toward the horde of infected.

  ���What the hell does he have?��� Dr. Bentley asked.

  ���Looks like a pipe,��� Dr. Hunter replied. Thinking quickly, he shouted, ���Cover him! I don���t know what the hell he is doing, but cover him!���

  Firing at the infected getting within reach of Vasily, the two were in shock to see him run directly into the center of the horde. Swinging his pipe wildly, knocking many of them out of the way, Vasily looked at Dr. Hunter, and with calm in his voice, said, ���Get her out of here. Get her to where she can help stop this.���

  ���What are you doing?��� Dr. Hunter shouted as Vasily ignited something at one end of his pipe. As the end of the pipe began to smolder, Vasily looked into the crowd before him, let out a primal scream, and dove straight into them.

  Almost instantly, before any of the infected could sink their teeth into him, a violent explosion erupted, sending Vasily and at least twenty of the infected to their deaths.

  As the smoke cleared, with his ears still ringing from the explosion, Brett saw a gap in the horde. Picking Dr. Graves up, he tossed her over his shoulder, and ran with every ounce of effort he could muster, narrowly avoiding the outstretched hands of the surviving infected.

  Following along behind, Dr. Hunter and Dr. Bentley provided cover as the group disappeared into the thick, black oil-fired smoke from which they had come.

  ~~~~

  Hearing the explosion, Dr. Perkins stepped back out of the PistenBully and said, ���Dear God. What the hell is goin
g on out there?���

  Turning to Mark, he said, ���Get this thing ready to move. I hear something coming.���

  As Mark familiarized himself with the controls of the PistenBully, Dr. Perkins saw a figure emerge from the smoke. ���It���s Brett!��� he shouted as Brett collapsed on the ground, dropping Dr. Graves as he coughed violently from smoke inhalation.

  Running to her side and attempting to get Dr. Graves to her feet, Dr. Perkins heard her cry out in pain. Realizing the extent of her injury, he quickly picked her up and carried her to the PistenBully, placing her inside where Tasha could begin to care for her.

  Turning back, he saw Mason helping Brett to his feet, followed by Dr. Hunter and Dr. Bentley emerging from the smoke. Hurrying them inside, Dr. Perkins looked back toward the smoke and asked, ���Where is Vasily?���

  ���Just go!��� shouted Dr. Hunter.

  Seeing a massive horde of the infected emerge from the smoke, he climbed in, shut the door, and patted Mark on the shoulder as the PistenBully began making its way toward Williams Field where their aircraft waited.

  As the vehicle rumbled on, Dr. Bentley stared out the front window in disbelief of what he had just witnessed. That strange man. The Russian with a past very few men could have lived through, who had helped them all survive up to this point, had given his life to save them. Unable to understand such an act, he wiped a tear from his eye, and said, ���Fedorov.���

  ���What?��� Mark asked from the driver���s seat.

  ���Fedorov. Vasily Fedorov. That was his name.���

  ���Where is he? What happened?��� Mason asked, still confused.

  Looking at the expressions on the faces of all who had been at the scene, he knew Vasily was gone.

  Dr. Bentley continued, ���Vasily Fedorov. All names have meanings. Do you know what Fedorov means in Russian?���

  ���What?��� Dr. Graves asked as Tasha inspected her leg for injuries.

  ���It means ���a gift from God���.��� Pausing, mustering the strength to maintain his composure, he said, ���And that���s exactly what he was. A gift from God.���

  Chapter Thirty

  Williams Field

  Reaching the airfield, Mark pulled the PistenBully alongside the Twin Otter and said, ���Okay, gentlemen. I���ve got a hand pump on board for such occasions. Fueling out of Antarctic research stations has always been a bit of a challenge. It will take a while, but we need to top off the tanks and then place the remaining barrels in the cargo area. We will barely have enough fuel to make the Antarctic Peninsula, where we will have to stop, refuel with what we have left in the barrels, and then try to make it to the Falklands from there. She���s got the long-range tanks, as well as an additional ferry tank, so we should make it if we fly as efficiently as possible, but it will be pushing it.���

  ���And if it doesn���t work out?��� Dr. Perkins asked.

  ���Then we divert to the southern tip of South America. We won���t have friends waiting for us there, but it will be dry land. That���s better than the alternative of ditching.���

  With that, the men got busy following Mark���s directions while he supervised and began preparing the aircraft for departure.

  ���It���s almost dark already,��� Dr. Hunter said, sitting down beside Dr. Graves, who was keeping warm in the PistenBully with her leg elevated.

  ���We���re getting out of here in the nick of time,��� she replied with a smile that quickly turned to tears of sadness.

  ���Did you get what you needed?��� he asked, referring to her specimens.

  Nodding as she wiped her eyes, she replied, ���Yes, at the cost of Vasily���s life.���

  Embracing her, Dr. Hunter said, ���Now, Linda. You saw what I saw. Vasily knew what he was doing. He knew he was sacrificing himself so that you and your work could go on. He knowingly gave himself so that others, possibly even the rest of the surviving world, might live. We all must die sometime, but most of us won���t get the choice to go in such a noble and valiant way. All we can do at this point is honor his memory and work to find a solution to all of this, so that he did not die in vain.���

  Wiping her tears, she said, ���I know. And Nathan,��� she said.

  ���What?��� he asked.

  Seeing Mason approach the PistenBully, they heard him shout, ���Okay, everyone. We���re ready. Let���s go!���

  Turning back to Linda, he said, ���What? What is it?���

  Shaking her head, she replied, ���Nothing,��� as she wiped her tears and regained her composure. ���Let���s get going.���

  ~~~~

  Following the long flight to the peninsula and a successful refueling stop, the De Havilland DHC-6 Twin Otter made its way toward the southern tip of South America and the Falkland Islands. Flying into the sunrise, Mark looked over to see Brett, his co-pilot for the flight, dozing off to sleep. Turning his head, he saw that only Dr. Bentley was still awake.

  Making small talk, Mark said, ���Well, Professor. I stuck it out to retrieve as many of my fellow Englishmen as I could, and at least I���m not going home empty-handed in that regard.���

  ���Do you honestly think we���ll ever see England again?��� Dr. Bentley asked. ���I used to long to return home, but now… now I feel as if I will never see her again. Our beloved island nation is ludicrously far from the Falklands, considering the state of the world.���

  ���Just remember,��� Mark replied. ���You probably never thought you���d get this far, either. And here we are.���

  Replying with only a smile, Dr. Bentley looked out the window at the vastness of the ocean as the distant sun began to shine over the eastern horizon.

  Nudging Brett awake, Mark asked, ���Did you get a good nap?���

  ���Oh, man. I���m so sorry,��� Brett said, regaining his bearings.

  ���No trouble at all,��� Mark replied. ���It���s not like I needed you to respond to radio calls or the like. The usual chatter has gone completely silent.���

  Pointing out the window, Mark said in a hushed voice, ���Do you want the good news or the bad news?���

  ���Dude, just say it,��� Brett replied.

  ���That speck on the horizon is the Falklands.��� Pointing at the instrument panel, Mark then said, ���This is probably not enough fuel to get us there. I���ve already run the other tanks dry. We���re pumping from the ferry tank now. If we make it, we���ll be on fumes. If we are lucky enough to make it to the runway, there will be no go-arounds or do-overs. We put her down no matter what. And to be honest, that���s a pretty big if.���

  ���I thought you calculated that we���d make it?��� Brett replied. ���I mean… well, I���m not criticizing you, but…���

  ���I said we���d probably make it, depending on numerous factors. The winds aloft seem to be a tad bit higher than I���d hoped. They can vary quite a bit in this area, and it seems as if we���ve been fighting a headwind right off our nose for some time now, slowing our ground speed dramatically. I���ve changed altitudes several times looking for more favorable winds, but to no avail. We will press on for now, but when we get closer, we will wake everyone and let them know where we stand.���

  Nodding in reply, Brett began fixating on the speck that was their destination, as if willing it to get closer.

  As they approached the islands, Mark noted that the fuel gauges were no longer registering. ���Okay, mate,��� he said to Brett. ���It���s time to wake the troops.���

  Turning to wake everyone, Brett shook Dr. Bentley, who was sit
ting just behind him, and asked, ���Doctor, can you wake everyone? We���re almost there.���

  ���Why, of course, Mr. Thompson,��� Dr. Bentley replied.

  Once everyone was awake, Mark said, ���Okay, everyone, the good news is we���ve made it to the Falklands. The bad news is I expect the engines to flame out from fuel starvation any moment. If it doesn���t work out, I am truly sorry.���

  Patting him on the shoulder, Dr. Bentley said, ���Now, don���t you be hard on yourself, old chap. We���d still be freezing our knickers off back on the ice, if not for you. We���re all lucky to have gotten this far, and it���s not over yet. We have faith in you.���

  Reaching to Dr. Hunter beside her, Dr. Graves took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

  ���We���re gonna be fine,��� he said.

  ���I know. I���m just nervous,��� she replied.

  ���What were you gonna tell me back at Williams Field before we departed?��� he asked, still contemplating what could have been on her mind.

  ���Oh, not now, Nathan. Later.���

  ���Okay,��� he said, squeezing her hand as he looked out the window toward South America, which lay off in the distance to their left.

  ���I���m afraid there are only a handful of airstrips on the islands, none of which are to the south,��� Mark said. ���I���m going to try to make it to Mount Pleasant. It���s a Royal Air Force Base. They will be our best bet in trying to reach the research facility I spoke of,��� he said, looking back to Dr. Graves. ���I dropped the other researchers off there for transportation to the facility.���

  ���But wasn���t it the military that bombed us and tried to kill us?��� Tasha asked.

  ���It will be fine. Trust me,��� Mark replied. ���These boys won���t do us any harm.���

  Turning to Brett, Mark said, ���Try and reach them on the approach frequency now. If that doesn���t work, try the tower; if that doesn���t work, just move on down the list on the chart until someone answers.���