by Jake Bible
“We ford it,” Dr. Hall says. “We take the canoe in shifts, and go back and forth across just upstream. If the school is staying here, then it may not bother us.”
“If? May?” Zakarian asks. “Not very confident there, Doctor.”
“I don’t know what else to do,” Dr. Hall says.
“Have you guys been up on this bridge the whole time?” Alvarez asks.
“Until we spotted the Doctor, yeah,” Zakarian says.
“That’s why the things didn’t come for us,” Alvarez says. “They sensed you were up here and stayed put. We leave this bridge and use the canoe, they’ll be on us in seconds, is my guess. Doctor? What do you think?”
“You’re probably right,” Dr. Hall says. “We’ll need someone to stay up here and be a distraction.”
“That leaves a man behind,” Zakarian says.
“Not once we get across,” Dr. Hall says. “The first men across then go to the other side of the bridge and provide the distraction from there. That allows the last three to get across without being spotted.”
“Last three?” Neff asks.
“One person has to paddle, drop off two, paddle back, and pick up the last two,” Dr. Hall says. “Basic math.”
“Yeah, I hated those story problems,” Neff says.
“That’s going to take a lot of time,” Zakarian says.
“It’ll be faster than looking for a different bridge up north,” Alvarez says. “If any are still intact. Sounds like someone has it in for the bridges.”
Zakarian rubs his face for a second, then nods.
“Okay, we do it,” Zakarian says. “I’ll be the distraction. Whittier, you paddle, and get Paulo and Dr. Hall to the other side first.”
“Great, thanks,” Whittier says.
“You rowed crew in college, right?” Zakarian glares.
“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it,” Whittier says. “That’s just a lot of paddling, which is way different than rowing crew, by the way.”
“Whatever,” Zakarian says. “Let’s hustle.”
***
The boat creaks and groans as the waves rock it back and forth. Terrie sits with Lana at the tiny table in the galley down in the small cabin. The little girl is busy drawing with some crayons that were stowed in a cabinet. Terrie can hear Linda and Lester above, readying the ship for departure. Biscuit lies on the floor, his warm body covering Terrie’s feet, which she is very grateful for.
“When they are ready, they are going to need my help,” Terrie says to Lana. “That means I’ll have to leave you here by yourself for a few minutes.”
Lana looks up from her coloring, then leans over and looks down at Biscuit.
“Will he stay?” Lana asks.
“Yeah,” Terrie replies. “I’ll make sure he does.”
“Okay,” Lana says, and goes back to coloring.
“Okay? You’re fine with that?” Terrie asks.
“Yeah,” Lana says. “If Bisquick stays.”
“Biscuit,” Terrie corrects.
“That’s what I said,” Lana insists, never taking her eyes from her picture.
Terrie begins to correct her again, but stops as she hears low moans come from the bed in the back of the cabin. She pats Lana on the head, grabs one of the lit candles on the table, then gets up and goes back there, quietly pushing a pocket door out of the way so she can peek in on Krissy who is laid out on the full bed that takes up most of the space.
Linda had replaced the girl’s dressings, but Terrie was with Lana the whole time, so she never got a look at Krissy. From what Linda reported, it didn’t sound good.
Terrie moves closer to the bed, careful not to drip wax on the bed sheets. The girl’s bandages are already stained with fresh blood, and Terrie doesn’t have to work too hard to imagine what the poor girl looks like. Linda was very explicit, making sure Terrie knew the extent of Krissy’s wounds.
Most of the skin from her cheeks and forehead had been cut and peeled right off. What was left was nothing but ragged strips that clung on only because of the bandages. Whoever had done it to her knew how to use a knife and how to carve flesh. Terrie instantly thinks of a scene she walked in on back when she was a US Marshal before retiring to raise her grandson.
A fugitive, wanted for the brutal killings of six sorority girls, had a similar penchant for stripping the girls of their flesh. But instead of the face, it was their backs and buttocks. Terrie had no problem putting a full magazine’s worth of bullets in the man when they finally caught up to him and he made the mistake of going for his gun.
Terrie says a silent prayer for Krissy and then a silent prayer to God, that if she ever comes across the men that did this to the girl, she’ll put them down just like she did that fugitive. No mercy, no second thoughts, no guilt.
“Terrie?” Linda calls down from above. “We need you.”
Terrie quickly leaves the bedroom and sets the candle down on the table.
“I have to go now,” Terrie says to Lana, then looks down at the husky-wolf that shows no sign of moving. “You watch over the girls, Biscuit.” All she gets is a raised eyebrow and an ear twitch. “Good boy.”
She climbs up the small steps and out onto the deck. The first thing she notices is the wind has picked up, which is good for a sailboat. The second thing she notices is that the fire in the south looks much bigger.
“It’s growing,” Lester says. “It’s jumped the base for sure. Looks like all of Everett is burning now.”
“That might slow those things down,” Linda says.
“If they’re still on land,” Terrie says.
“There are really whales with tentacles?” Lester asks. “Giant ones?”
“Yes,” Linda says. “Way bigger than normal orcas.”
“They got mutated,” Terrie says. “Or maybe they have always been like that and only showed up now that the Devil’s creatures are trying to kill us all. I don’t know, but we want to avoid them if we can.”
“Maybe going to this island isn’t such a great idea,” Lester says. “If those things are in the water, then they’ll probably come right for us.”
A far off roar makes them all turn towards the glow of the flames.
“Land isn’t going to be any safer,” Terrie says. “There’s not just those things, but the other monsters to deal with. The really big ones. The first ones.”
“Right,” Lester nods, dropping his objection. “Then we should get going.”
“Where do you want me?” Terrie asks.
“On the wheel,” Lester says. “We’ll need you to keep it steady while we push off from the dock and then try to get the sails up. That’s going to be the tricky part. This wind is picking up, and this boat will want to go with it. You have to hold onto the wheel and keep it from doing that. You’ll need to turn when I say turn, and straighten when I say straighten, or we’ll end up against one of the other docks. Think you can do that?”
“I think I can do that,” Terrie says.
“Are you sure?” Linda asks, looking Terrie right in the eye. “It’s going to hurt.”
“Everything hurts,” Terrie replies. “Don’t worry about me.”
“It’s the least strenuous of the jobs,” Lester says.
“I said not to worry about me,” Terrie says. “A sailboat is not what will break me in this world.”
“What will?” Lester asks. “Oh, sorry, that was rude.”
“I honestly don’t know what will,” Terrie laughs. “And I don’t plan on finding out while steering this boat. Let’s get a move on, people. We have an island to find.”
“Okay, the wheel is over here,” Linda says.
Terrie lets Linda talk her through her duty, careful to pay attention to the instructions about what starboard and port mean. She asks if they can just say left and right, but neither Linda nor Lester makes any promises.
“I’m Navy,” Linda says. “That’ll be a hard habit to break.”
“No problem,” Terri
e says, repeating the directions over and over in her head as Linda and Lester untie the boat and start to push it away from the dock.
In minutes they are almost clear, and Terrie grips the wheel with both hands, her knuckles cracking loudly in the quiet of the night. She watches in amazement as the sails start to go up, then panics a little as the wheel in her hands decides it would rather be aimed in a different direction than where it should be.
“You weren’t kidding!” Terrie calls out as she strains to keep the wheel steady. The sutures in her abdomen and back sing out, and she grits her teeth. She takes that pain and swallows it deep, using it to give her strength.
“You good?” Linda yells as she ducks under a boom and moves to tie down a line.
“I’m fine,” Terrie says. “You pay attention to what you’re doing, not to me.”
Then, like that, they are clear of the marina, and Lester is clambering towards her.
“I’ll take that,” he says. “You go rest.”
“I can handle it for a while,” Terrie says. “You should go be with your daughters.”
“No,” Lester says. “I think I’ll stay up here for a while. I haven’t had a chance to be alone since we escaped.”
Terrie looks at Linda, and she gives her a sad nod.
“Fine,” Terrie says, giving control of the wheel over to Lester. “I’ll see if Lana’s hungry. But if she starts calling for you, then I’m taking the wheel back.”
“Sure,” Lester nods. “Of course.”
Terrie and Linda make their way to the steps and quickly move down into the cabin as they hear the quiet sounds of Lester’s sobs.
***
“This blows,” Neff says as he stands on the riverbank and holds the canoe steady while Alvarez, Whittier, and Dr. Hall climb in. “This really blows.”
“No choice,” Alvarez says as he gets settled. “Whittier will be right back for you.”
“Maybe,” Neff replies.
“Shut the fuck up, Neff,” Whittier says. “At least you only have to make one trip across. I have to do three trips. Three times the chance to get eaten. Unless you’d rather paddle.”
“No, you’re all over that, Whit,” Neff says. “Paddle safe.”
“Fuck you,” Whittier replies.
They all look towards the bridge and the shadowed form of Zakarian. A loud banging echoes over to them as Zakarian starts smacking several pieces of metal together close to the edge of the bridge’s gap.
“Go,” Alvarez says to Whittier while Neff pushes them out into the water. “And keep going. Do not stop.”
Alvarez helps with the paddling, but he misses a few strokes as he looks over at the bridge and sees the school of ooze fish leaping high up into the air.
“That is amazing,” Dr. Hall says.
“Fuck you too, Doctor,” Whittier says as he paddles as hard as he can. “This isn’t National Geographic time.”
“I know that, Agent Whittier,” Dr. Hall says. “It’s just that I may never get a chance to see that…”
The bottom of the canoe is bumped by something, and Dr. Hall glances over the side.
“Ice,” Alvarez says. “Just like before.”
“Are you sure?” Dr. Hall asks. “That felt more deliberate.”
“Deliberate ice,” Whittier says. “Now hush. Talking is noise, and noise is bad.”
They make it to the middle of the river before there’s a second bump.
“I don’t believe that’s ice,” Dr. Hall whispers.
“Yeah, me neither,” Alvarez says as he looks over at the water. “So be quiet and….”
The water erupts around the canoe, and Alvarez never gets a chance to finish as all three men are plunged into the freezing Potomac.
Nine
“My God, can you smell that?” Dr. Probst asks. “Even this mask isn’t filtering out the stench of ammonia.”
“This isn’t good,” Dr. Mannering says as the two scientists climb out of the purge shaft through a hinged grate and into a pitch-black corridor. “The creatures are definitely changing the atmosphere to suit their needs. But why? Why move to ammonia? It’s not just that gunpowder has ammonium nitrate in it and they are adapting. Too simplistic.”
“Maybe simplistic is right,” Dr. Probst says. “Maybe they are evolving to help protect themselves against the threat. Simple as that.”
“Maybe,” Dr. Mannering replies as he turns on a large, powerful flashlight and illuminates the corridor. He hands Dr. Probst a flashlight of her own, and then unslings the small automatic rifle from around his shoulder, letting the strap fall to the side. “But I don’t think protection is their endgame.”
Dr. Probst looks over at him and his snub-nosed rifle. “What is that?”
“MP9 with a fifty round magazine,” Dr. Mannering replies.
“I don’t get one?” Dr. Probst asks.
“I don’t think we’re at the give you an automatic machine pistol trust level yet,” Dr. Mannering says. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Dr. Probst replies. “I’d probably shoot us both anyway.”
“Come on,” Dr. Mannering says as he leads them down the corridor to a set of double doors that are almost identical to the ones that lead into the warehouse.
Kneeling by the wall to the right of the doors, Dr. Mannering opens a hatch and activates the doors’ opening mechanism. There is a loud clang and crunch, and the doors start to slide apart. They get about two feet then grind to a halt. Smoke starts to drift up from the panel on the floor, and Dr. Mannering kicks the wall in frustration.
“That’s not good,” he says, his eyes wide with fear as he looks from the stuck doors and then back down the corridor to the open grate of the purge shaft. “Really, really not good.”
“We can squeeze through,” Dr. Probst says. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“No, the problem isn’t getting through, it’s closing these when we get back,” Dr. Mannering says. “The second I opened these doors, I triggered an alert down below. If we’re lucky, Valerie has shut off the alert, and Burkhorst has no idea what we’re up to.”
“If we’re unlucky?” Dr. Probst asks.
“Burkhorst knows there’s a breach, and she’s prepping the system for a full topside purge,” Dr. Mannering responds quietly.
“She what?” Dr. Probst shouts. “She wouldn’t do that! Not while there’re people up here!”
“That’s kind of what the purge protocol is about,” Dr. Mannering says. “Getting rid of all threats to the facility, including people. It’s Burkhorst’s call. It’s always been Burkhorst’s call.”
“Then we better go,” Dr. Probst says. “We find my friends, and we get them down below.”
“That’s the plan, Doctor,” Dr. Mannering says. “Now, which break room...were...they… Oh, shit…”
The two scientists squeeze through the stuck doors and into the demolished front entrance. They see the cave in and the trails of green ooze that lead from the pile of concrete and debris, down the hallway, and around the corner. The smell of ammonia is even thicker than before.
Dr. Mannering shines his light on the debris and then at the ooze trails. He takes a few steps forward and crouches down, running his gloved fingers through the ooze. He lifts his fingers to his face mask and turns them back and forth for a second before standing back up.
“This is straight Substance,” Dr. Mannering says, not even trying to hide the alarm in his voice. “This isn’t from the Progeny. This is the real deal.”
“What are you talking about?” Dr. Probst asks. “What do you mean it’s straight Substance?”
Dr. Mannering waves her off and then walks closer to the pile of concrete that separates them from the outside world. He flicks his light back and forth, the beam cutting through a low, thick, yellow fog of gas that is slowly creeping through the barrier.
“Fuck me,” he whispers. “Oh, sweet Lord, fuck me. We were right. The Substance is terraforming. It’s changing the atmosphere.�
�
“What?” Dr. Probst exclaims. “How?”
“No time to answer either of those questions,” Dr. Mannering says as he slings his MP9. “And no need for this thing. It won’t do any good anyway. Not against the Substance.”
He turns from the barrier and looks at Dr. Probst.
“You know where the shaft is,” he says. “You go get your people, and get them down below.”
“Wait! What?” Dr. Probst exclaims. “What do you mean? Aren’t you coming with me?”
“No, I can’t,” Dr. Mannering says. “I have to get back down there and let everyone know what is happening. You don’t understand. This is….”
“No, I don’t understand!” Dr. Probst yells. “I don’t understand any of this because you won’t explain it to me!”
“I can’t!” Dr. Mannering yells. A far off screech answers him and he jumps, moving closer to the stuck doors. “We don’t have time to talk! Get your people, and get them down below! I can hold off Burkhorst for maybe thirty minutes! Maybe! After that, we have to purge the bunker!”
“We? What, now you want to fry us?” Dr. Probst shouts.
More screeches. Closer.
“No! I want to save you, like I said! But if these doors stay stuck, then that means the Substance has a shot at breaching the facility! I fucked up by doing this! We all fucked up by doing this!”
He hurries back to the double doors and squeezes through so all Dr. Probst can see is the reflection of her flashlight off his face mask.
“I am so sorry,” Dr. Mannering says. “I really am. I’ll do what I can, and I’m sure Ryan will too; possibly Valerie.”
“Possibly Valerie? I thought she was the champion here,” Dr. Probst snaps.
“Not when she finds out the Substance is knocking at our front door,” Dr. Mannering says. “She’ll be as gung ho as Burkhorst to purge it all.”
“Fuck,” Dr. Probst growls.
“Yeah,” Dr. Mannering replies. “Fuck. Now go! Get your people, and get them below! Thirty minutes, Cheryl! That’s all I can give you! Thirty minutes!” He starts to leave then turns. “Remember this when you get back in the shaft, okay? Yellow, claxons, red, dead. Got that?”
