by Adam Bennett
“Wes,” she said under a controlled breath. “Wes!”
He remained on his side.
Claire could see his shirt moving. At least he’s still breathing. She comforted herself with the observation.
She reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Wes!”
The movement rolled Wes onto his back. Dozens of worms were crawling on his face, out of his mouth, and what remained of his nostrils. His teeth showed through gaping holes in his cheek. Claire looked down at his body, the fabric of his shirt writhed with the movement of worms as they sought a place to feast. The centre of his stomach was exposed; crawling over his intestines were hundreds of the voracious worms, devouring his organs.
Claire’s stomach revolted, explosively purging its contents. She stumbled out of the room where she continued retching. As Claire was regaining control of her insides, Ann Northwood noticed her.
“My God, Claire, are you alright?”
Claire wiped spittle and vomit from her mouth. “Wes, he’s...”
Ann headed toward the open door.
Claire grabbed her arm. “No, don’t go in. Wes is… He’s been...”
Others started to gather in the corridor, alerted by the commotion. Someone looked into the room, then immediately turned and voided their stomach contents. Others were questioning what was happening.
Down the corridor strode Mike Hutchings, Camp Shackleton’s station chief. He glanced into Wes’ room and then quickly regretted his decision.
“Holy hell!” He held the back of his hand to mouth, his eyes squinted as they fought back the noxious invasion that threatened to seep into his very pores. He waved everyone farther down the corridor. He approached Claire. “What the hell happened to Wes?”
Claire shrugged her shoulders. “Worms. It looks like he was attacked by worms.”
“Worms? How did worms get in here?”
Claire thought. “We found possibly prehistoric worms the other day. But they were microscopic. I sent them to Dr Richards.”
Mike looked back at the growing crowd. “Someone get Ben Richards. Tell him to bring some specimen jars.” He looked toward Wes’ room. “Okay, we need to get Wes into a body bag. Lisa will want to examine the body when she gets back. We also need a way to contain these creepy crawlies.”
“How about we hit them with LN2?” Claire offered.
Mike nodded his head. “Good idea. We have plenty of the stuff. After Richards has taken his specimens, we’ll deep freeze the buggers and then just sweep them up.” The station chief pointed to a bystander. “Darby, you go down and get a canister of liquid nitrogen and a wand.”
“How are you—” Claire paused. “How are you going to get him?”
“Jim and I will suit up. We’ll go in, zip him into a body bag and then take him to the specimen freezer.”
***
The next morning Claire sat down beside Mike who was nursing a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. “What’s the news, Mike?”
He yawned. “I’ve been up all night talking to Ottawa and Washington. Apparently, they don’t like it when one of their scientists dies suddenly. And Lisa is not back yet, she got tied up in Franklin Inlet delivering a baby. Which reminds me, I’m going to need your side of the story. Doctor Richards said the specimen worms you found were the same as those which infested Wes. He also said yours were near microscopic. But the ones from Wes are obviously much larger.” He took a large swig of coffee. “According to Ben, this is an unknown species.”
“Did he say how they got so big? Because...”
Claire was interrupted by Jim Brown sitting heavily at one of the chairs. The plate of scrambled eggs rattled loudly on the table. He rubbed at one of his temples.
“You okay there, Jim?” Mike asked.
“Migraine coming on. I don’t normally get them this far north. But it happens.” He took several bites of the eggs then pushed the plate aside. “Ugh, they taste like shit.”
A discomforted look crossed his face. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to the crapper.”
Jim quickly rose and left the room.
Mike watched Jim as he made a beeline to the restrooms. “Hm!” he grunted.
“What?”
“This is the fifth summer that Jim has been up here.” He nodded toward the unfinished food. “That’s the first time that I’ve seen him leave a plate.”
Claire held her coffee cup to her lips but did not take a drink. Her eyes narrowed. “You know, Wes complained of a headache.”
***
Claire slept a fitful night, the image of Wes covered with worms haunted her sleep. Finally foregoing any form of sleep, she rose and went to the specimen lab. There she stood staring at the bag that contained Wes’ body. Several hours earlier it had been removed from the freezer to warm up in preparation for examination. Lisa Hill approached from behind and gently placed a hand on Claire’s shoulder, startling her.
Lisa wore disposable scrubs, on her head was a raised full face shield, around her neck hung a respirator. “Claire, you really shouldn’t be here.” She paused almost apologetically. “I need to examine the body.”
“I know, it’s just...” Claire sighed. “He was working on his dissertation… and now.”
“I understand, but we need to find out what happened.”
“Did you know that he had a crush on you.”
Lisa smiled. “I’m almost twice his age.” She looked at the body bag. “You can wait in the next room.”
Claire turned. “Why is the bag moving like that?”
Lisa observed the movement. “Possibly outgassing, which is part of the decomposition process. Although the body has been kept cool, which should have minimised decomp.” She paused in thought. “Or...” Lisa placed the respirator over her face and lowered the shield. She grasped the zipper of the bag. “Stay back, this could be disturbing.”
She pulled the zipper down the bag. The sickly odour of death wafted from the bag. Claire’s gag reflex was once again triggered. As she fought down the bile she was glad that she had skipped breakfast.
Upon opening the bag, Lisa instinctively pulled herself backward. Inside, thousands of worms squirmed over themselves. Most of Wes’ flesh was stripped clean from the bones. Small bits of flesh clung to the skull. Worms hung from the ribs; they twisted around in search of more meat to consume. Unidentifiable goo filled the bottom of the bag. Part of an eyeball floated in the sludge, staring up at Lisa.
A mass of worms investigating the lining of the bag started to crawl out of their confinement. Several of them wriggled their way over the back off Lisa’s gloved hand.
“Shit!” Lisa scraped the worms off her hand.
“Zip it up! Zip it up!”
Pushing the worms inside with one hand, Lisa pulled on the zipper.
“Hurry!” said Claire.
“It won’t budge.” Lisa struggled when the zipper became stuck. She pulled the slider back then rammed it forward, sending it all the way to the top of the bag. “Ow!” The glove made a snap when she pulled her hand back.
“What happened? Is that blood?”
“My glove got trapped in the zipper.” Lisa looked at her hand, rubbing at a finger. “Not mine; it appears to be viscera mucus.” She opened the freezer then pushed the bag, and the cart it was resting on, in and shut the door.
“Oh, God, that was gross.” Claire made a disgusted face.
Lisa pulled off her gloves and examined her hands. She rubbed the finger that was caught by the zipper. “Just an abrasion.” She looked up, standing behind Claire was Valera Balkanski.
“Hey, Lisa. What do you have for indigestion?”
“I don’t have anything here. Can you meet me in the clinic in about twenty minutes?”
Valera slumped. “Sure thing. If you can make it shorter, that would be fantastic.”
Claire waited for Valera to leave. “What is going on? Wes had a headache. Yesterday Jim Brown complained of a migraine and now Val has stomach issues.”
Lisa shook her head. “I’ve had two others complain of headaches and someone else had what looked like an infected bug bite on their backside. That being said, these are not uncommon issues for me to see. Now, those worms, that is uncommon. They should have died after the body was put in the deep freeze.”
“Well, I found my worms in the permafrost. They may be able to take some extremely cold temperatures. Probably colder than that freezer can go.”
“Hm, maybe.” Lisa paused in thought. “I have to go and check on Val.”
***
“My eye! My eye!” Jim Brown staggered into Lisa Hill’s office clutching a hand over his left eye.
The doctor jumped up and headed to Jim while Claire moved out of the way.
Lisa grabbed Jim by the shoulders and guided him to a chair. “Let me take a look.”
Jim grimaced. “It’s burning.”
“I need you to move your hand out of the way.”
He dropped his hand but kept his eye squinted shut.
“Jim, I need you to relax and let me take a look.”
Claire came around to his side and held his hand. Lisa prised his eyelids apart. She gasped. Claire looked around Lisa and squeaked.
“What! What is it? What’s wrong with my eye?”
Lisa hesitated as she watched the body of a worm slowly burrow into his eye through the pupil.
Jim struggled to pulled from Claire’s grasp. “What the hell is going on?”
Lisa stammered, “Y-you have something in your eye. Stay still.” She reached across the desk for a pair of forceps.
Lisa took a breath to steady herself. “Okay, Jim. I’m going to remove it, but I need you to stay very still.”
She grasped the worm where it was still entering the pupil. She pulled back gently; segments of the worm slowly exited his eye. Then she encountered resistance. She tugged. The segments stretched back toward the pupil. Lisa increased the pressure.
“Holy bloody hell! What are you doing?” Jim shook his head.
Lisa lost her grip on the worm. It quickly started to re-enter his eye.
“Jesus, Jim, hold still. Claire, hold his head.”
Lisa grabbed another section of the worm before it fully disappeared. She pulled backward again. More of the worm pulled out of the eye.
“Stop, stop, stop, stop.” Jim struggled against Claire’s hold. “Gawh!” he wailed and pulled his head back violently.
Lisa no longer felt resistance. She looked at the forceps. The end of the worm flung itself back and forth, wrapping itself around the forceps. Lisa looked down at his eye. The worm had split in two. Lisa flung her portion to the floor. Claire immediately brought her foot down, turning it into a gooey paste.
Lisa steadied Jim’s head as she brought the forceps once again toward his eye. She grasped for the worm, but it wriggled from between the jaws. The remaining portion quickly penetrated into the pupil where it lay wound up in his eye.
“Shit!” Lisa cursed under her breath. She released Jim’s eyelid.
“Did you get it? Ow, it still hurts.”
Lisa headed to a supply cabinet. “You have a worm in your eye. I got most of it out, but there is still a portion there.”
“But it’s dead, right?”
“Part of it is, yes.” She returned with a bottle. “I’m not sure about what is left in there. I’m going to flush your eye.”
She gave a nod. Claire steadied his shoulders.
“This is just saline, but it still may sting a little.” She moved a hand to his face. “Hold tight, I’m going to open your eyelid again and the flush everything.”
Once again Lisa held his eyelid open. She looked down at his eye. She let out her breath as her shoulders slumped. The worm was gone.
“Is that it doc? I didn’t feel a thing...” Jim’s mouth slowly opened, he sucked in shallow breaths. “Oh, oh, oh… G-g-god.” Jim’s chest tightened as he struggled to form words. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his eyes rolled back into his head. His body stiffened as he finally let out a wail. Holding his head, he slumped to the floor.
Lisa dropped to the floor beside him and checked his vital signs. Claire looked on in concern.
“He’s alive.” She continued her examination. She palpitated his stomach then stopped. She repeated the procedure, but slower. Lisa placed her stethoscope on his abdomen. She listened carefully.
“Get Mike,” she ordered.
When Claire returned with Mike, Lisa was still on the floor with Jim. She had managed to roll him onto a stretcher and placed a blanket over him. Mike looked down.
“What happened?”
Lisa related the story to Mike.
“So you are saying we have a worm infestation and they are the same ones Claire discovered?” Mike summed up the conclusion.
“From what I can tell, yes.”
“But those worms are from 40,000 years ago. How would that even be possible?”
“The original worms were from that time period. They are obviously very prolific.”
Mike turned to Claire. “I recall that you only found five and that they were all passed on to Doctor Richards.”
Claire was silent as she thought. “She shook her head. Perhaps there was a hitchhiker.” She paused and put a finger to her mouth. “When we were bringing up the drill head some dirt spilled on Wes. That’s probably where it came from.”
“So how is it being passed on?” He looked at both women.
Lisa spoke up. “I think Jim’s gut also has worms. One of them probably dislodged from his stomach and travelled up to his head. Wes was complaining about stomach issues and so was Jim. Perhaps they have somehow entered our food supply or our drinking water.”
Mike nodded his head. “Okay, that makes sense. I will order the kitchen and snack areas shut down. We will go strictly on hard rations and bottled water.” He turned to Lisa. “Doctor, what is the next step we need to take.”
“Well… I will contact Ottawa and the CDC and inform them of what we have here. There is a standard protocol for removing worms. This should be classified as an outbreak so the medicine will be shipped from a central warehouse to the nearest distribution point, which would be Edmonton and then onto us. It will be at least twelve, probably twenty four hours, before we can get our hands on it.”
Lisa looked down at Jim. “But, I am afraid that it will be too late for him. Even if we get the drugs in time, they will not be in his system long enough to be effective. All we can do is hope and pray. In the meantime, I will keep him sedated.”
***
The following afternoon a commotion in the living quarters corridor drew Claire’s attention. A topless Valera Balkanski was standing outside of her room. In her hand was a large hunting knife. Her other hand protectively cradled her distended belly.
“I’m pregnant! Look, you can see the babies moving.”
Claire could see the bulge in Val’s stomach ripple. From down the corridor, Mike Hutching approached Val, his hands held out to her, palms open. He stopped several metres away.
“Val.” His voice was low and calm. “Val, you are not pregnant.”
She swung the knife in his direction. “Don’t say that. I am pregnant. I’m going to be a mother.”
“Please, Val. Let me have the knife.”
“You want to take my babies.”
“Listen, you are not pregnant.” Mike slowly moved forward. “You are sick. Let me have the knife.”
Val placed her free hand to her temple, a grimace of pain ran across her face. “I am not sick.” She swung the knife at Mike, forcing him to jump back. “All of you just stay back!” Val circled wildly as she stabbed at the crowd.
While her back was turned, Mike took the opportunity to advance on Val. Sensing him behind her, she violently swung around. Her outstretched arm cut through the air then crossed under his chin. Mike’s hand flew to his neck. Arterial blood spurted from between his fingers. He collapsed on the floor, a look of bewilderment in his eyes
as his blood puddled beside him.
Claire gasped and grabbed the person beside her for support. Lisa rushed to Mike’s side and immediately applied pressure to the wound.
“I told him to stop.” Val looked down, pointing the knife at Mike’s body. “This is his fault. He did it to himself.”
Lisa shook her head then stood up. “Val, as your doctor, I can tell you that you’re not pregnant. You are infected with worms. I need to get you to the clinic so that we can start treatment.”
Val waved her knife at Lisa. “No, you are not taking my babies. They want to be born.”
“Listen, Val. I’m afraid a worm has moved to your brain; it is affecting your reasoning.”
“No!” She put her palm against her forehead and squinted her eyes. “The babies want to be born.” Resolve flashed across her face. “They have to be born.”
With both hands on the knife, she plunged it into her belly then pulled it across. Her stomach opened. A torrent of guts and worms spilled out onto the floor.
The surrounding staff members instinctively stepped back. Many turned and vomited.
Val sank to her knees. She pushed on the sides of her stomach, birthing more worms from the gash in her abdomen. Looking down at the mess on the floor, she smiled and then collapsed.
Lisa dropped to the floor by Val. She checked her pulse; it was feeble, her breathing shallow.
Val looked up at Lisa. “I’m a mother,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Lisa sank back on her heels and rubbed her temples. She took a deep breath and looked around. The floor was a stinking mess of blood, viscera and vomit. Throughout wriggled hundreds of the worms. Traumatised staff members stood at the edge of the mess.
Lisa stood up and looked around. The death of Mike created a leadership void. “Okay, I need two people to suit up in hazmat, grab some shovels and put all of this mess into airtight bins. Don’t let any of these worms escape. I also need help moving these bodies down to the clinic for examination.”
