by Jonah Buck
That had to be Benoit and his men. Denise didn’t actually see any of the French research team, though. She did see signs that something had gone wrong with their arrival, though.
The motor sledges were scattered. Several of them faced the entrance of the station. A couple more were some distance away, facing in the opposite direction. It looked like those two had been turned around and started back the way they had come before coming to haphazard and crooked halts.
The last Denise knew, Benoit had four other men with him, too. She only counted four motor sledges. There were a few more parked in orderly rows next to the buildings, but they were all covered in a fine gilding of frost. No one had used those any time recently. Maybe the last of Benoit’s team had been waylaid or otherwise prevented from reaching Merovée Station. Out here in this climate, that meant he was dead.
Denise approached the vehicles. The first was left so it was facing her head on. She signaled for everyone else to stay back.
“What is it?” Poole yelled.
She didn’t bother to answer. Denise focused on watching the area ahead of her for movement of any sort. If Benoit and his men were here, that could be good or bad. Maybe Benoit would recognize that there was safety in numbers, and they could help each other find a way to get out of this jam. Then again, the researchers might not be in the mood to throw a welcome party. Benoit still had her revolver, too.
If Benoit and his team weren’t here, that was even worse. That could mean they’d taken anything useful and moved on to a location she didn’t know about, stranding everyone here. And that was probably the good explanation for them not being there. The other alternatives mostly involved Benoit and his team being very dead.
Denise walked up next to the motor sledge, looking it over. She wanted to take her glove off and feel the engine for heat, but that would leave her with only one hand to hold the Nitro Express. Until she knew what had happened, she wanted both hands firmly on the elephant gun.
The motor sledge had been left next to a small concrete hut. A narrow window ran across the length of the hut’s front. Frost had pebbled the glass, making it impossible to see inside. There were official-looking statements painted on the side of the building, but they were all in French, so Denise couldn’t read any of them.
Moving forward another few feet, Denise saw that the door to the hut had been bashed inward. There some old, dried blood on the floor. None of it was recent enough to have come from Benoit or any of his team.
She realized that the hut was a guard post of some sort. The words painted on the side probably warned visitors to have their identification ready and to submit to a search. Or something along those lines. It didn’t matter anymore. Someone had been stuck with the truly unfortunate job of manning this freezing little hut in the middle of nowhere and checking in scientists. That someone and those scientists were probably all dead by now, judging from the smeared red stain on the floor.
The problem was that they might still be walking around here somewhere, dead or not. Denise had no idea how many people were originally stationed here. The facility had room for plenty, though. That could potentially mean dozens of the undead prowling around in the various buildings.
Her boots crunched on the ice as she moved toward the next motor sledge. That was when she smelled it. It was the same odor she’d noticed at the penguin rookery. It was like a big, bubbling cauldron of pig vomit.
She skirted around the second motor sledge and moved toward the third. On the other side of the next vehicle was a thick, yellowish puddle. There were human remains in the center. There were a few scraps of cloth floating in the foul broth. They were the same color as the jacket Benoit had been wearing when he left Delambre Station.
Glancing over, she saw the remains of the fifth motor sledge that she had been looking for. The vehicle had been flattened and crushed. Bits of metal lay strewn around the sledge’s crumpled form. Not only had it been crushed and mangled, but it looked like it had been thrown against the edge of the nearest building. There were cracks and bits of metal spall stuck in the side of the wall. There was also quite a bit of blood, much fresher than the stuff in the guard hut.
The structure itself was a small hangar, with a two-seater airplane inside. It looked just like the one she and Fletch had taken out from Delambre Station. She was more concerned about the smashed motor sledge at the moment, though. There was only one implication.
The dragon had been here. Denise didn’t know what that thing was, but it had been here. An awful thought suddenly occurred to her. What if there was more than one of the beasts? She had only seen the one, but that didn’t necessarily preclude the possibility that there were more of them. Hopefully not.
At least the sky leviathan didn’t seem to be around right at the moment. Hopefully, it was off terrorizing Dagenais and his troops, slowing their approach here. Maybe they could even find a way to kill it. Denise would rather deal with Dagenais than the dragon, even if it just meant picking her poison.
Human beings she understood. At least, as well as anyone understood other human beings. She didn’t even know what the dragon thing was, let alone if she could kill it.
Hopefully, the creature was off giving Dagenais unholy hell, but she wasn’t counting on it. When she first saw the creature on the snow tractor, it took the man it carried off in this direction. And now it had killed Benoit and his men when they arrived here at Merovée Station. This was its territory. It might be out at the moment, at least she hoped so, but she doubted that a few researchers had permanently scared it off just by intruding. This thing wasn’t some rare bird that would abandon its nest just because human beings had traipsed too close. It would probably be back more frequently now to see if more food had blundered into its territory. Benoit had just been unlucky enough to be around right when the creature happened to be here, too.
The safest place would be inside. Well, maybe. That might not be strictly true if she opened the door and dozens of ghouls came pouring out.
The nearest door to the main building was a large, metal sliding set up, a bit like a barn door. Denise let the Nitro Express rest from the strap over her shoulder for a minute and pushed the door open and inch. The door issued an awful, squeaking racket as it moved, making Denise cringe.
She pressed her eye to the gap and looked inside. The area beyond was bifurcated. There was another large, sliding door where sizable equipment could be wheeled in and out of the building, and then there was a normal-sized entrance for people to move in and out of. There were more motor sledges parked along the near wall. This was apparently a transition area and garage of sorts.
Denise checked the sky above them. Still clear. She waved everyone forward. Cornelia, Metrodora, Fletch, and Poole scurried up. They all swerved well clear of the goopy remains that used to be Dr. Benoit.
“We can get it through here,” Denise said. “We’ll be safest inside.”
“Doesn’t look like they have any power. We’re going to need to get warm at some point,” Cornelia said. She had her arms wrapped around herself. Denise could feel the cold sapping her strength as well. The lot of them wouldn’t be able to go on too much longer.
“They’ll have a generator of some sort in there,” Fletch said. “So long as we can toss some fuel in it, it shouldn’t be too hard to start some heat up. If we have to, we can burn a mattress out here or something and get a quick bit of warmth, too.”
“A place like this probably has a long-range radio,” Metrodora said. “Once we get some power flowing, we need to see if we can get word out to anyone. If I can get in contact with the Squires, they can send another ship down here.”
“What and get them all killed, too?” Poole asked.
“We would warn them and arrange someplace for them to rendezvous with us. Someplace far away from Delambre Station and this Colonel Dagenais. We need to contact somebody eventually. We’re just treading water here if we don’t have any means of escaping.”
“Good th
inking. The first order of business should be to find that generator and get it up and running,” Denise said. “We’ll get the heat running again. We won’t freeze to death in the time it takes to dispatch a rescue ship that way. While we’re looking for that, keep your eyes peeled for communications equipment and supplies. We might have to live here for a little while. If you see food or guns, we’re probably going to need those. Ready?”
Everyone nodded, and Denise twisted the doorknob. She swung her Nitro Express around, ready to blow away anything that lunged out at them. There was nothing but a barricade made out of desks and chairs.
Only darkness lay beyond. Denise squinted and tried to see deeper into the station. Most of it was too deep in shadow to make much out. Nothing was moving back there. She was sure of that, at least. The rest was simply murky shadows, though.
She shut the door and walked over to the sliding door meant for supplies. Pushing it open a few feet, she backed up and peered inside. Someone had started building a barricade at this entrance, too. More desks and lab equipment were piled up, but only to about waist height.
There was a chaotic scattering of more materials just on the other side of the makeshift barricade. Denise climbed on top of a desk and saw why. There was a chewed skeleton on the ground nearby. The man had been trying to disassemble the barricade in order to get out when he was killed. He hadn’t toppled enough of the construction to make it to the door before his pursuers caught up with him, obviously.
The macabre scene told a little story. Denise was used to looking at animal carcasses and determining information from them. The age of the body. What predators and scavengers had been at it. Whether it had been brought down by carnivores, natural causes, or even an aggressive rival during the mating season. Examining a dead human being wasn’t so entirely different, even if it made Denise’s stomach churn in a way that a chewed-up antelope never would.
The outbreak had begun inside the facility. The staff here had tried to protect themselves by blocking the entrances. Unfortunately for them, the problem had found its way to them eventually. What followed was probably an outright massacre. Frostbite or monsters apparently claimed most or all of the poor souls who fled. Other people never even made it out of the station.
The chewed body also meant there might very well be more of the undead haunting these halls. Denise kept the Nitro Express locked tight in her grip as she continued forward. She could see her breath coming in white puffs again. The interior of the station wasn’t much warmer than the outside.
Fletch flicked his lighter on and held it over his head as they moved forward. It wasn’t much, but with the power off inside the building, it was dark as Satan’s thoughts. Denise padded forward, shuffling her feet a little to avoid pitching forward over some obstacle or another.
They were in a large, mostly open area. It seemed to be a warehouse of some sort. She was hoping that meant there would be plenty of supplies to scavenge. The French had built this place with the intention of staying. There had to be cans of food and the other essentials for survival lying about.
Now wasn’t the time to search, though. She strained her ears, trying to listen for any sounds that didn’t belong. It wasn’t easy, though. There was a lot of debris on the floor. Her boots kept coming down on bits of broken glass or crumpled papers. Everyone else was doing the same, creating a little beacon of sound in the darkness. Every time something tinkled or scuffed immediately behind her, it sent her heart skittering up her throat like a skittish animal ducking back into its burrow. Anything in here with them might very well be zeroing in on their location as they moved. The howling wind outside obscured any sound that wasn’t more than a few feet away, making it impossible to tell if there was anything coming toward them.
Denise hoped the generator was somewhere in the warehouse. It probably wouldn’t be right in the living quarters or the science laboratories. The sooner they found it, the sooner they could get not only the heat but the lights working again. Trying to creep through the entire facility in the dark seemed like a surefire way of being taken by surprise.
The size of the warehouse section was disorienting in the darkness. Denise tried to stick to the wall. With only a little circle of light to work with, it would be easy to get turned around or start moving in circles through the middle of the building. There were stacks of crates and equipment under tarps filling the center of the warehouse, creating a network of passageways in between them.
Something crashed down in the darkness. Denise swung her rifle around, looking for the source of the sound. It sounded like a wooden crate smashing down to the concrete floor from somewhere deeper in the structure.
Denise froze for a minute, shuffling around in a tight semi-circle, her back against the wall. She pointed the Nitro Express into the darkness, waiting for something to come toward them. Was there any possibility that part of Benoit’s team had survived and made it in here? She hadn’t seen enough bodies to be one hundred percent positive, and she didn’t want to blow away another survivor.
She wasn’t betting that whatever made that noise was alive, though. Her money was on a shambling body bumbling through the darkness, looking for human prey. Denise felt like she was trapped in the Minotaur’s labyrinth, stuck in the dark with something that intended to tear them all apart.
After a minute, there weren’t any more noises. There was just the omnipresent howling of the wind. Denise would have preferred that the noises continued. At least then, she’d have some idea where the room’s other occupant was. With only the sounds of the gale outside, sounds that muffled any approaching footsteps, it was impossible to tell if anything was coming toward them. On the African plains, she could watch the tall grass and tell if there was something stalking toward her or not. She might not be able to see the predator coming to investigate them, but at least she knew where it was. In here, she was deaf and blind.
Without anything else to go on about which direction a threat might come from, Denise continued forward, slinking along the wall. They passed a couple of doors that led deeper into the facility. They were labeled in French, which didn’t help Denise in the least. She didn’t want to open any of them just yet. That could risk allowing something else in here. There was no way to know who or what might be behind any given corner.
Passing another door, she spotted something along the far wall. It was a generator. The oversized generator wasn’t running. It had no doubt run out of juice shortly after the people here lost control of the station. But Denise saw a manual fuel pump nearby. If they could just get everything primed and working again, there would be heat and lights in the facility again.
There was also a body sprawled out in front of the generator, as if in warning. It was another one like the corpse they’d found in the cave. As Denise drew closer, she could see that the body had been hollowed out until there was only a dried-out crust of skin left in a vaguely human shape.
The body was directly in front of the generator. Denise tried to push it out of the way a little with the toe of her boot, but the part she touched just crumbled in on itself. Bits of skin clung to her boot like oversized flakes of dandruff. She didn’t know what kind of creature could do that to a human being, and she’d be perfectly happy to never find out.
“We have to get this thing working again,” Denise said, gesturing at the generator.
“The fuel pump is right there. They must have some underground tanks,” Fletch said.
“They aren’t dry, are they?”
“Probably not. This system was designed so it had to be manually fueled every so often. It didn’t draw directly from the storage tanks. If they had to leave the facility due to a particularly harsh winter or some other problem, it would be easier to restart everything when they came back this way.”
“Yeah, I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind, but it works to our advantage, either way,” Cornelia said.
“Fletch, you and Cornelia work on the pump. Poole and Metrodora, ma
ke sure everything is alright with the generator itself. We don’t need it shorting out when we try to turn it on again. I’ll keep watch while you’re working,” Denise said.
Everyone started in on their tasks. Denise turned around to watch the darkness behind them.
There was a figure in the shadows not ten feet away. It wasn’t human. Denise started to shout a warning and raise her elephant gun, but it was already too late. The thing was coming at them on long, spindly legs, moving freakishly fast.
It was one of the creatures that Denise had seen in the burning laboratories at Delambre Station. The creature was as tall as a person, but it was built wrong. The limbs didn’t fold the right way, and each appendage ended in a set of gnarled claws. The head was a misshapen mass studded with a pair of oversized, bulbous eyes that glittered in the darkness. Every square inch of its flesh looked like a fresh scab. It looked like if, instead of robbing graves and stealing full body parts, Dr. Frankenstein had tried to build his creature entirely out of discarded medical waste.
A great, sizzling gob of foul liquid shot past Denise’s head, and Poole screamed. Denise raised her rifle and tried to bring it to bear on the creature. The thing moved with curious, quick hopping movements, skipping this way and that way. It was much faster than the dead men with the slugs in their brains, much faster than anything human.
It was on top of them in the blink of an eye. The creature slashed out at Denise. She felt the material of her outermost jacket slice open. There was just a small tugging sensation and a loud noise. If those claws had extended a little further and reached her actual flesh, they would have unspooled her guts like party streamers.
Denise fired off a snap-shot with the elephant rifle. In the enclosed space of the warehouse, the sound was like the end of the world. The muzzle flash lit up the space around them in a brilliant flashbulb moment, scorching the scene onto Denise’s corneas. The muzzle flash disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Denise was blind for a second.