Chill Factor: Ice Station Zombie 2

by JE Gurley

  On his way to the supply room to check on half-inch plastic pipe for a water line, he spotted Malosi exiting the building. Curious, he followed. Malosi moved carefully, avoiding detection by zombies. His circuitous path made his final destination difficult to judge. Finally, he stopped next to the communications building, checked to ensure that no one was observing him, and ducked inside. Taking a position just outside one of the windows, Brad watched Malosi pull a battery from beneath a table and connect it to a radio. He set the frequency and sat back to listen. Brad waited ten minutes, but Malosi did not move from his seat or make any move to contact anyone with the radio. After the ten minutes was up, Malosi disconnected the battery, hid it beneath the table, and went to the front door. He looked outside, saw that no one was around, and left.

  Brad remained hidden from view to see where he would go next, but Malosi surprised him by returning directly to the science building. Clearly, Malosi had a hidden agenda and wanted no one to know about it. Brad’s dilemma was, whom could he trust with this information? Had Malosi already recruited someone to help him, Hughes or Deen? If so, what could be his ultimate goal? Whatever it was, Brad was sure the rest of the group played no part in his plans. They were expendable.

  As he was returning to the science building, Brad spotted movement on the roof of the Core Pod. Outlined against the glow from Mt. Erebus was the unmistakable figure of Guy Hughes. Brad wondered if he too was keeping an eye on Malosi. Hughes waved to him and pointed toward the edge of the base. Brad followed Hughes’ hand and saw a moving light, a flashlight. He raced up to the end of the building. Hughes leaned over the edge of the roof. His voice was fraught with barely controlled excitement. A broad smile graced his face.

  “Someone’s coming. I think it’s Wilkie and the others. They’re alive.”

  Like everyone else, Brad had given them up for dead. Their reappearance would raise morale, but they were in danger. “Don’t they know the place is lousy with zombies?”

  Hughes shrugged. “I tried the walkie talkie but got nothing.”

  “We have to go out and meet them before they attract a crowd. Find Deen and Bain.”

  As Hughes disappeared, Brad checked to make certain the safety was off on his rifle. He couldn’t wait for the others. He could see zombies moving in the twilight all around him. Their chilling grunts and calls made him shiver. Many of them shuffled toward the beach. They had already detected Wilkie’s group approaching. He hugged the side of the building, and then darted for the cover of an SUV. He spotted three figures stumbling up the beach. All three had made it, but they looked done in. When one fell, the other two helped the person to their feet and supported them as the three struggled forward.

  He hated to give away his position, but the three were almost surrounded. He rose and called out, “Wilkie! Look out for zombies.”

  One of the figures craned his head to look around, finally spotting Brad beside the vehicle. “I lost pistol.”

  He had no choice now. He couldn’t wait for the others. He broke from cover and ran toward the three stragglers. One zombie had surged ahead of the others. Brad stopped long enough to shoot it in the head. When he joined the others, he saw that he had been right. All three were on their last legs. Mullins was hanging onto Shimoda’s shoulders, barely conscious. Shimoda didn’t look much better as he held her up. One of Wilkie’s eyes was heavily bruised and swollen and a cut ran down the length of his cheek. Brad realized they would never make it to safety without help.

  He handed Wilkie the rifle and pulled out his knife. Wilkie refused.

  “I can’t see well. Give me the knife.”

  The nearest refuge was the SUV. He wanted to relieve Shimoda of his burden, but he needed his hands free for the rifle. “Come on.”

  Zombies came from all directions, closing in on them. Brad dropped two as he urged the others to move faster. A female zombie lunged at Wilkie. Luckily, she was much smaller than he was, and he swung her aside with one hand as he plunged the knife into the back of her neck with the other.

  Damn it! Where is Hughes?

  They reached the SUV just ahead of the zombies. Brad herded them in and slammed the door closed. Through a streak of dried blood on the driver-side window, he watched the zombies surround the vehicle. Their frustration became audible as they howled and grunted. They pounded on the windows and the sides of the auto with their fists. Brad knew the glass wouldn’t keep them out for very long.

  Shimoda’s high-pitched scream startled him. He turned expecting to see a zombie inside the SUV. Instead, Shimoda stared at a severed hand in the floorboard clutching a set of keys. Barely considering if the SUV would crank, Brad pried the keys from the death grip clutches of the decaying hand. Inserting them in the ignition, he turned the keys. To his delight and utter astonishment, the engine turned over. Flipping on the headlights, he spotlighted Hughes, Deen, and Bain exiting the science building through the damaged aquarium. He gunned the gas and spun out in the mud, slinging zombies aside as he fishtailed. Hughes and Deen began shooting zombies while Bain motioned for him to drive up to the open door.

  Brad drove the SUV like a snowplow, slamming into zombies and rolling over them with a sickening thud. He aimed for the larger congregations out of pure hateful spite. His rage at them burned hot. With less than twenty yards to go, luck failed him. The right rear tire hit something sharp and shredded, sending the SUV careening out of control. He fought the spin with the steering wheel like a kid in a bumper car and managed to keep the vehicle upright, but the rear end crashed into a lamppost.

  “Everybody out,” he yelled.

  Zombies were everywhere, attracted by the noise and the smell of fresh meat. Hughes came out to meet them while Deen and Bain continued shooting as fast as they could. Keeping the three newcomers between them, Brad and Hughes whirled like dervishes, shooting at the closest zombies. One charged into Brad’s back before he could take aim. He sprawled on his back on the ground as the zombie grabbed at his feet. Wilkie knocked it aside with his bunched fists, allowing Brad to regain his feet. He jammed the barrel in the zombie’s face and pulled the trigger. Its head disintegrated as it fell backwards.

  Hands grabbed at him as the zombies converged, but he fought them off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bain grab Mullins and shove her inside. Shimoda followed. As Deen reloaded, Hughes covered him, but that left him and Wilkie alone with zombies all around. The rifle was useless in such close quarters. Wilkie slashed at faces with Brad’s knife, but he could inflict no incapacitating wounds. Both men resorted to fists and feet simply to keep gnashing teeth away from them. Together they pushed their way through the throng of zombies.

  Reloaded, Deen began firing. Only feet from the door, two zombies brought Wilkie to his knees. Brad kicked one in the back of the head, but the other one ripped into Wilkie’s cheek with his teeth. Wilkie screamed in pain. Deen shot the creature three times in the chest. This didn’t kill it, but it did push it away from Wilkie. The look of surprise on bloody Wilkie’s face changed to one of horror as he realized what had happened. Brad offered his hand to Wilkie to help him to his feet. To Brad’s surprise, Wilkie shoved him in the back with enough force to send him stumbling through the open door.

  “Shut it!” he yelled.

  As Deen started toward Wilkie, Hughes grabbed him by the arm and held him back. “It’s no use.”

  Wilkie took one long look at the others before running away from the door, drawing most of the zombies after him. Fifty yards away, he stopped and stared at Hughes. “Do it!” he shouted.

  Hughes raised his rifle, sighted Wilkie’s head, and fired. Before Wilkie’s body had dropped, Hughes walked inside and closed the door. Deen stared at him.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “He was a dead man and he knew it. He gave us a chance to get inside.”

  “We could have …” What he was going to say trailed off and he shook his head.

  Brad looked at the horrified expressions on Shimoda and Mullin
s’ face. His eyes cautioned them to remain silent. Hughes had done what Wilkie wanted him to do, but it didn’t lesson the shock and the loss. Brad felt numb. Even though he had previously given the three up for dead, seeing them again had brought a brief moment of hope that things might change for the better. Now, he knew it wouldn’t. Death surrounded them. Eventually, it would find them all.

  Liz’s examination showed that Mattie Mullins suffered from two broken ribs and a sprained knee, and that both she and Shimoda were severely dehydrated and undernourished. Liz shooed the curious spontaneous welcoming committee away while she tended to her wounds. While Mullins lay in bed recovering from her injuries, Shimoda related the story of their absence over a cup of coffee and two canned ham sandwiches. He ate with the gusto of a man who had given up hope of his next meal.

  “We strayed off the Ice Road and missed our rendezvous with the Kharkovchanka. Wilkie decided it would be best to continue to the Ross Sea where he assured us we would wait for you.” He directed this at DeSousa. “We were taking a break from the confines of the Sno-Cat, walking around to stretch our legs, when an earthquake hit. A crevasse opened up directly beneath the tractor. Without thinking, Mattie ran to it, climbed inside, and grabbed a backpack just as the tractor tumbled over the edge. She barely made it out. One of the treads caught her in the chest. Wilkie caught an edge of it in the face trying to catch her fall. We bandaged her ribs as best we could, but we had nothing except what was on us and what was in the backpack she had rescued. It contained a few packages of protein bars, a camp stove, and a can of chocolate. We had no shelter and no way to stay warm except by huddling together. Luckily, the unusual rise in temperature kept us from freezing to death, but we had to keep moving for fear of dying in our sleep. We walked toward McMurdo, but Mattie moved slowly because of her injuries. I thought we were lost, but Wilkie seemed to know the way. Eventually, we saw Mt. Erebus erupting and headed toward it.” He looked at the others with tears in his eyes. “Wilkie saved our lives.”

  Brad recalled his near death experience when their vehicle had almost vanished into a crevasse. They had been lucky. Wilkie and the others had not.

  “Let the man eat,” Bain said, patting Shimoda on the back.

  Shimoda smiled and shoved a second sandwich into his mouth. Brad slowly scanned the faces of those gathered around and noticed, with the exception of Deen and Malosi, a mixture of relief and sorrow. Malosi seemed on the verge of smiling, and Deen’s face was blank. Wilkie was gone, another name on the growing list of lost friends and colleagues, but they were alive, and Brad hoped he could keep them that way.

  20

  Sept. 20, McMurdo Base, Antarctica

  Over the next week, daily life at McMurdo slowly began to attain a degree of normality, at least as normal as it could in view of the circumstances. By converting office spaces into sleeping quarters and bringing in beds from the dorms, each individual gained at least a modicum of privacy. Tapping into the base water lines proved easier than expected, and now the group enjoyed the luxury of running water, showers, and working toilets. A schedule of duties posted in the lounge met little resistance. Everyone seemed glad to be doing something after the longs days of confinement in the Kharkovchanka.

  Between nursing Mullins’ injuries and assisting Malosi in the lab, Brad saw little of Liz for several days except at meals. Malosi was, if not pleasant, at least cooperative. Brad quickly realized that discovering a cure was not going to be easy. His rapport with Liz slowly passed beyond the awkward infatuation stage to a committed relationship. He realized that openly flaunting their relationship might create dissension among so many males, but decided to take that risk rather than chance losing her. As they lay together in her bed for the first time, they discussed her progress on the nanites.

  “I don’t know where to begin,” she confided as she snuggled into the crook of his arm. Her smell enticed him, a mixture of freshly showered flesh and sex pheromones. His hand caressed her skin, enjoying the smooth silkiness of it. “Malosi can explain the endocrinological effects of the nanites, but that puts me no closer to understanding them. We’ve managed to deactivate them or destroy them with radiation, high voltage bursts of electricity, and strong chemicals reagents, but only in dosages that would certainly kill a human.”

  “At least they can be killed.”

  She nodded wearily while lightly tapping her finger on his chest. “Yes, they aren’t indestructible, but we’ve just about reached our limit. Without more information on how they function, I’m stymied.”

  “And Malosi hasn’t been forthcoming.”

  She hesitated before answering. “I get the impression that he knows more about them than he pretends. He spends more time listening to music on that damned Android of his than in research. When he’s not listening to it, he’s recharging it. Sometimes I think the only reason he helped you start the generator was to recharge his Android.”

  “Maybe he just likes music.”

  “It’s like an obsession. His smile when he’s listening … it’s frightening. I don’t trust him.”

  Brad nodded his agreement. “Neither do I.” He had followed Malosi to the radio room twice since Malosi’s first visit there. Each time Malosi simply sat in front of the radio and listened to his phone. He had confided Malosi’s odd behavior to no one, especially Liz, fearing it might affect her working relationship with Malosi.

  “I’m worried about Mattie?” she said.

  Brad liked the normally energetic sous chef. She chaffed at lying in bed instead of cooking for the survivors. “Oh? I thought you said her ribs were healing.”

  “That’s just it. Her injuries are healing much too quickly. She’s been complaining of congestion in her chest. I haven’t seen any black markings on her skin yet, but I’m afraid she’s infected.”

  “Does she know?”

  Liz shook her head. Her hair brushed against his chest, tickling him. “I don’t think so.”

  “There’s nothing we can do but make her comfortable.” As an afterthought, he added, “Maybe we should keep her door locked.”

  Liz glanced up at him, but the anger in her eyes quickly faded when she saw the sympathy in his. She nodded.

  Trying to navigate the conversation away from Mattie Mullin’s plight, he said, “Bain says the temperature is almost five degrees above freezing, but he can’t explain why.”

  “I might have the answer to that.”

  Brad looked at her in surprise. “Really?”

  “An increase in CO2 levels can create a greenhouse gas effect in the atmosphere and raise temperatures. How much carbon dioxide do you think billions of rotting corpses would emit?”

  The thought of so many decaying bodies made him queasy, but her theory made more sense than his own pet theory of volcanic gases from Mt. Erebus as the cause.

  “What did Bain say about radiation levels?”

  Now, he was glad that she changed the subject away from corpses. “Steady. No increase. In fact, it might be dropping slightly. He and Shimoda are confabbing over it right now.”

  She had expressed her fear that rising radiation levels might create long-term health risks. He hadn’t the heart to remind her that their long-term survivability was very low with or without radiation.

  “Some good news,” she agreed.

  “More good news.”

  He smiled and said nothing until she punched him in the chest. “What?”

  “I looked outside earlier. The horizon is glowing. The sun’s coming up.”

  A smile softened the outlines of her face. “Thank God.”

  Brad traced her cheek with his finger. “The sun will be up all day tomorrow. No more darkness.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. She responded eagerly. His hand strayed to her breast and caressed her nipple. She moaned softly and pressed against him, grasping his hand in hers. She surprised him by pushing him over and climbing on top of him, straddling him. She pressed her breasts against his chest and moved his other h
and to her hips. She guided him inside her and began to move, slowly at first but becoming frenzied as her fervor increased. Her new aggressiveness intrigued and delighted him. Earlier, she had been responsive but submissive, catering to his needs. Now, she was satisfying hers. Quickly, too quickly, he joined her in the throes of passion. Spent, she fell across him gasping for breath. He felt like a senior on prom night, sexually satisfied by his date and emboldened by his conquest, but unsure as to who had conquered whom.

  As he regained his breath from his exertions, he caressed her back. She traced patterns on his chest with a finger.

  “That was wonderful,” she said. “I surprised myself.”

  “Dawn should come more often,” he replied.

  “It’s more than just the sun coming back. It feels like we’ve turned a corner.”

  “Us? I think we might have rounded the edges off the corner.”

  She hammered his chest with her fist gently. “No, silly. All of us. We made it through the long night. If Malosi and I …” She paused. “When Malosi and I figure out how to stop this nanite virus, we can find a way back home.”

  He eased her off his chest, kissed her breast, and sat up. “I have to go back to work. The temperature could start dropping at any time. Lester thinks we can rig a low-power electric heater into one of the aquarium tanks and fill it with fresh water. We’re running an electrical line today.”