Extinction 2038

by P. R. Garcia

  “Slow down, Max,” Lachlan shouted. “Or we won’t have to worry about pirates. You’ll kill us.” But Max did not hear him. Fear had consumed his body. A terror of what awaited for them out there completely filled his mind, allowing no rational thought. “Max, I said slow down. You’ll burn out the engines.” Finally realizing what was happening, Lachlan attempted to reach the bridge. Max made a hard right turn, slamming the doctor into the stairwell, badly bruising his ribs. Fighting through the pain, he grabbed onto the railing and pulled himself up a step, then another, holding on tightly so as not to be thrown to the deck, or worse, overboard. When he finally reached Max, he saw the look of fright in his eyes. “Max, stop.”

  “We have to get away from here,” Max shouted.

  “There’s no one out there,” Lachlan said, reaching out and forcefully pulling the throttle back, slowing them down. The smell of an overheating engine was starting to drift up into the bridge area. “Trust me, Max. We’re safe. You’re safe. You don’t want to overtax the engine. Can’t you smell it? It’s oil burning. You have to slow us down.”

  Finally, Lachlan saw a look of understanding fill Max’s eyes as his brain registered the smell of the burning oil. Together, they throttled down and reduced their speed to a crawl. Then Max stopped their progress altogether, allowing the ship to idle.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Q,” Max said, embarrassed. “I panicked. Do you think I hurt the motor?

  “I don’t think so,” Lachlan lied. “Keep a lookout, but let the engine idle. I’m going to go check on Gayle.”

  Groaning as pain shot through his bruised ribs, he hobbled down the stairs. When he got to the entrance to the cabin he saw Gayle lying on the floor, the microscope still tenderly protected in her arms. Once more working through the pain, he hurried down the four steps.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, removing the microscope from her grasp and placing it in a nearby box.

  “I think I sprained my ankle,” Gayle answered. “You and Max?”

  “Max’s okay now. I bruised my ribs a little. Here, let me help you up.” When Lachlan’s body felt Gayle’s weight as she held onto his hand and rose, he cried out in pain.

  Standing on one foot, Gayle said, “Lachlan, you’re hurt badly.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Lift up your shirt and let me see.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I said, let me see. Can you lift up your arms?”

  Lachlan groaned as he lifted his arms, but he could only raise them half-way. Wobbling on her good foot, Gayle lifted his shirt to reveal a large patch of broken blood vessels above his left rib cage. The area looked angry, the skin red, blue and purple. “I think you may have broken a rib or two.” She quickly moved some items that had fallen on the small section of the bench that had kept clear to sit on. “You need to sit down.” Lachlan didn’t argue and plopped into the seat. “Max, we need you down here.”

  Max jumped down from the bridge and hopped in front of the entrance to the downstairs. He stopped when he saw Gayle standing on one foot, the other starting to swell. Then he saw the doctor’s bruises. “My gosh, did I do that? I am so sorry you two.”

  “What’s done is done,” Dr. Q said. ‘You did what needed to be done. You got us out of there. Perhaps a little too forcefully, but we are once again heading in the right direction. ”

  “I’ll get the first aid kit from the bridge,” Max announced, disappearing up the stairs. “Don’t anyone move.” He was only gone for a few minutes when they heard his shout. “Professors, I need you to come on deck. I believe we have a big problem.”

  Helping each other, the two injured professors managed to climb the stairs. They saw Max standing there, the first aid kit in his arms, staring towards the west. Even before they turned to look at what Max saw, they could hear the unmistakable sound of boat engines. They had been found.

  THE QUEEN VICTORIA

  “Should we try to make a run for it?” Gayle asked.

  Dr. Q did a full circular sweep. So far there were only two boats visible coming from the west. But that didn’t mean they weren’t others waiting ahead or to the east. “What do you think, Max?”

  “Hard to tell from this distance what kind of boats they’re using,” Max answered. “I think our old boat could have easily outrun them, but I don’t know about this one. But any chance is better than no chance at all. I say we try.”

  “Then get us the hell out of here,” Lachlan stated. “Just let Gayle and I sit down first.” As they hobbled over to two seats, Max scaled the stairs and sat in the Captain’s chair. He checked the fuel gauge. Only a half of a tank left. He had used up way too much fuel in his panic attack. More would certainly have to be added, but he’d have to worry about that later. Right now he needed to escape and hopefully leave them far behind. If he could outrun them but not lose them, they’d have to refuel under full throttle, something he wasn’t sure was possible. If they couldn’t outrun them, then the subject of refueling was mute. They’d probably be dead.

  Remembering he still had the first aid kit with him, Max yelled down the stairs. “Professor Dilbert, catch.” He threw her the box. “There are two rolls of Ace bandages in there. You can wrap the doctor’s ribs with them.” He reached inside a cubby hole and removed another roll of gauze and tossed that to the professor also. “I’m sorry there isn’t any more Ace, but this gauze might work for your ankle. Are you two ready?”

  “Go,” Gayle shouted, catching the gauze.

  Lachlan groaned as the boat jerked and propelled forward. The ship’s motion made his body shift in his seat even though he was prepared. Ripples of pain shot through his rib cage. He grabbed the sides of his seat in an effort not to fall off.

  “This is going to be a little tricky,” Gayle said, scooting to the edge of her seat, shifting her weight on her good foot. “Somehow I have to wrap your rib cage while we both try to stay in our seats.”

  “Maybe if I wrap my feet around the chair legs, I can reach out my arms and hold on to you. It might steady us both.”

  “Worth a try,” Gayle said. Carefully moving, Lachlan was able to slip his feet around the bottom bar. Grimacing in pain, he lifted his arms and rested his hands on Gayle’s shoulders. That seemed to anchor her body. She reached over and began to bind her fiancée’s bruised ribs. “Doing okay?” She could see beads of perspiration forming on his brow. The doctor didn’t say anything, just nodded his head affirmatively. “How’s that?”

  “Better,” Dr. Q answered. “I can breathe a little easier.” With his injury, he could not turn around to see where the two oncoming boats were. “Can you see the boats? What’s their position?”

  Gayle lifted herself up a little in her seat and looked to the west. The two boats were larger, which she assumed meant they were drawing closer. But they were still a long ways off. “They are still a ways out. We just might make it, if Max’s driving doesn’t kill us.”

  For twenty minutes their little boat sped forward, preventing the approaching ships from coming much closer. But neither one was giving up the chase. Then the worst happened. The engine started to sputter, making the boat jerk violently. Once more, Lachlan could smell burning oil. He and Gayle felt their vessel start to slow.

  “Sorry, Professors, I need to throttle her down,” Max announced. “She can’t take this speed. And without full throttle, the boats are going to catch us within the hour.”

  “Well, we tried,” Lachlan said, carefully pulling Gayle into his arms. “There’s always the chance they’ll run out of fuel or turn back.”

  Since the two professors were on the deck, they could not see Max’s eyes widen as he looked to the northeast. “They might run out of fuel, but I don’t think that ship coming from the starboard side will.”

  Lachlan and Gayle turned to see their doom. Now visible was a third boat, larger than the other two, barreling towards them. “That’s a big ship,” Gayle said.

  “Max, we don’t have binoculars d
own here,” Lachlan yelled over the now very noisy motor. “Can you see what kind of ship that is?”

  Max looked through the binoculars. “Appears to be a military vessel. Possible Coast Guard.”

  “Could they be friendly?” Gayle asked.

  “Doubtful, but a possibility,” Max shouted. “Guess we’ll find out when they get closer.”

  Black smoke began to seep up through the floorboards. “I have to shut her down, Professors,” Max called. “If that engine blows, we’ll be shark meat. That is if there are any sharks left.”

  “Oh, we forgot to tell you, Max,” Gayle called out. “We saw a hammerhead while you were sleeping.”

  “That’s great news,” Max yelled. “Let’s hope we won’t be its next meal.”

  Max turned off the engines, then leaped down to the deck with a fire extinguisher. He lifted the motor housing door and put out a small fire that had started. A near disaster was averted. Now if he could just figure out a way to deflect the other. He walked over and stood beside his colleagues. “Any idea what we should do?”

  Lachlan looked at Gayle. She was the one he was worried about. If they were pirates, as they feared, there was a good chance they would kill the two men and take Gayle. He shuttered to think what they might do to her. “None. Except jump overboard and hope that something eats us or we drown before one of those boats arrive here.”

  “They might be sympathetic,” Gayle replied. “If we tell them of our research to save the world, perhaps they’ll let us go. Even help us get home.”

  “That’s my girl, always the believer,” Lachlan said, bringing her close to him and kissing her. “You never give up. If something happens to Max and me, you remember to keep fighting.”

  “I will,” Gayle said.

  The three remained stationary wondering what their fate would be as the boats drew closer. The new ship was definitely fast and was having no trouble closing the gap between them. Suddenly, bullets began to hit the ship, puncturing holes along the side.

  “Everyone down,” Max yelled as he dropped to the desk, pulling Gale and Lachlan with him.

  Dr. Q screamed out in pain when he hit the floor. “I can’t breathe.”

  Gayle looked at Max for help. “If we sit him up so he can breathe, they are likely to shot him.”

  Max quickly looked around for a solution. He grabbed the cover to the motor compartment and threw it into the opposite corner. Scooting on his butt, he dragged the professor between his legs over to the corner, propping him up against the barricade. With any luck, the additional material would shield his body.

  “How’s that, Dr. Q?”

  “Better,” Lachlan whispered. Once more he was able to breathe, but the pain was tremendous. He wondered if between being pulled to the floor then dragged across it, the ribs didn’t finally fracture, possible puncturing his lung. When Gayle crawled over, Max sat her on the steps to the cabin beside Dr. Q.

  The three waited, hearing the boats drawing nearer. Then there was a massive explosion. “You two stay put,” Max ordered, as he peered over the side. “The larger boat is gone. Looks like it blew up. Ha-ha.”

  “What about the other two?” Lachlan asked.

  “One’s still coming,” Max reported. “The other one appears to have stopped. Maybe they’re afraid that whatever got the big boat might get them. No, wait. The stopped ship is turning around, heading back to shore.” There was a blinding flash as the returning boat disintegrated into a fireball.

  “What’s happening?” Gayle asked.

  “The boat that was going back just blew,” Max laughed. “What is going on?” There was a brief silence. Then they heard Max say, “Holly Shit! I don’t believe it.”

  “What?’

  “What?”

  “I know you two can barely stand, but you have to see this,” Max said, a big smile on his face as he hurried over and helped the two to their feet. When they stood up, a giggle escaped their throats as they stared in disbelief. There, a short ways away, was a submarine emerging from beneath the water. On the side of the conning tower was the most beautiful thing any of them had ever seen – a United States flag.

  “Yeah, you better run,” Max shouted when he saw the last attacking boat turn and head west.

  The three watched as something sped away from the submarine beneath the water. A torpedo. It was only a matter of seconds before the last boat exploded.

  All three stared in relief and wonder as two hatches lifted on the submarine. From inside twelve uniformed Navy personnel emerged. Some had weapons ready and stood guard, while others inflated a ribbed boat. As soon as it was ready, the sailors jumped in and steered towards the crippled vessel.

  Max ran over to the side and grabbed the tie lines, securing the inflatable to their boat. He then removed the back door at the swimming bench and helped a sailor step aboard. “Boy, are we glad to see you.”

  “Dr. Quartermaine?” the sailor asked.

  Max laughed. “I wish. I’m Maximillian Vladimir Stans. That’s Dr. Lachlan Quartermaine and Professor Gayle Dilbert over there against the side. Both were injured.”

  “By the attackers?”

  “No, by my driving,” Max laughed.

  The sailor walked over to the two professors barely standing and saluted both. “Dr. Quartermaine, Professor Dilbert, my name is Commander Raul Lucio of the United States Naval Submarine, the Alabama. I am here to protect you until the Queen Victoria arrives to take you home.”

  “The Queen Victoria?” Lachlan asked, a confused look on his face.

  The Commander smiled. “She’s a British Airlander capable of rescuing people where we can’t and safely getting them home. She is expected to be here in about thirty minutes. Until she arrives, we’ll give you some medical attention.” He motioned for the medic to step forward. “None of you were hit by the bullets.”

  “No, we all seemed to have escaped that calamity,” Gayle replied.

  “Ensign O’Neal, radio the Captain and tell him that we have secured the boat,” Commander Lucio ordered. “Tell him that, due to injuries, I do not advise we try transporting them to the sub. It is necessary for the professors to remain on their vessel until the Queen Victoria arrives.” The Ensign immediately sent the message. The Commander returned his attention to his rescued party. “I will allow you to remain here for now. I don’t think any pirate boats will return, but in the event they do it will be necessary to move you aboard our vessel.”

  “Can’t do that,” Dr. Q stated, his face suddenly ashy white. “I have terrible claustrophobia. You’d have to knock me out to get me inside that tiny ship.”

  “That would not be a problem,” the Commander replied, very seriously. “And she is bigger than she appears.”

  “I’ll still pass,” Dr. Q replied. “How did you know where to find us?”

  “Major Wesley gave us the coordinates you were starting from and a projected route of travel,” the Commander replied. “We’ve been searching for you for days. We found your disabled boat last night, but we had unfortunately missed you.”

  “So you were the ones that were on the boat?” Max said.

  “Yes, and I found this,” the Commander said, reaching inside his shirt and withdrawing Dr. Q’s research journal. “We figured you must have left in a hurry and this got accidentally left behind. We thought it might be important.”

  “Important? That’s an understatement,” Lachlan replied. “It’s one of the main reasons we came back, to retrieve it. That and the tapes the astronauts made for their families if they are still alive.”

  “Commander Lucio, you said Major Wesley told you were to find us,” Max said, confused. “The Major and his team died on the Space Station over a week ago. And they had no way to communicate with NASA or anyone else except us.”

  “That may be, but fortunately Dr. Quartermaine chooses his assistants wisely,” the Commander said. “The researcher that the Queen Victoria picked up in Africa. I believe his name is Walter Fitzpatrick?”


  “Yes, Walter,” Dr. Q confirmed, grimacing in pain as the medic tightly rewound his ribs. “So they were able to get him and his vultures.”

  “Yes.”

  “But what does Walter have to do with the Major?”

  “From what I was told, Mr. Fitzpatrick had a fondness for the Space Station and used to watch it fly by each night he was in Africa. When he was brought to the United States, he continued that ritual. He noticed one evening that the Station was blinking. He knew their power would last for some time, so he knew it wasn’t a malfunction, but some sort of signal. Mr. Fitzpatrick was apparently a Boy Scout in his younger days and recognized the Station’s blinking as Morse Code. A message. With the help of several engineers at the facility, he was able to design a display of light that could be used to send a message back. The Major gave us, as I said, your coordinates and projected route.”

  “That’s why they disappeared for those three days,” Gayle stated, the realization of what had transpired becoming apparent. “They devoted the last of their energy to telling the world where we were.”

  “They wanted us to save this world,” Lachlan added. “And their families.”

  “That’s why he used his last breath to say ‘Victoria’s coming’. He knew.”

  “When the facility didn’t receive any more messages, it was assumed either their oxygen or food supply had finally run out,” the Commander stated.

  “I am sorry to report they died from starvation,” Dr. Q said, a grave look on his face. “They were all invaluable to our research, giving us the information we never could have retrieved on our own. And now you inform us that they also saved our lives. What extraordinary men and women.”