by Derek Gunn
It was the lid of the barrel that someone had ripped off with such force as to tear the metal. She bent down and picked up the lid. It wasn’t too heavy but it did have a wicked serrated edge that would do nicely as a weapon.
She grimaced as she straightened and the burnt skin rubbed against her clothes. She ignored it and ran toward the thrall. She reached the gate just as the thrall was finishing cursing and threatening the occupants of the cage. He finished his tirade by spitting at them and then turned to go back to the warmth of the guardhouse when Tanya slammed the lid into his head. She had aimed for the back of his head but he had turned toward her more quickly that she had expected and the edge slammed into his face instead. The serrated edge cut deeply into his left cheek and continued on, splitting his nose and rupturing his left eye.
He fell to the ground and began to squeal in pain and terror as he thrashed about in the snow. The light covering of white quickly turned to red around him as he thrashed about and Tanya frantically hit him again and again as she tried to shut him up. If the other thralls came to investigate, they would all be dead.
She brought the lid down again and again, not caring where she struck him, desperate to try and stop his screaming. Finally, he lay still and Tanya stood heaving as she tired to get her breath back. The people in the cage began to urge her on, quietly at first and then the noise began to grow more desperate. She flipped the body over and saw the damage she had inflicted on the guard. Her stomach heaved as it took in the blood and torn features and she retched violently, spewing up the contents of her stomach.
The noise of the people in the cage grew louder and suddenly the guardhouse door opened again and a shout issued from within. She frantically searched the thrall’s body, trying to ignore the terrible damage to his features. Nothing. She continued to search as the people began to cry in despair. Suddenly she heard a shot and she looked up to see the snow in front of her erupt into a small explosion. She looked up and saw thralls spilling from the guardhouse. Shit.
Her hands patted at the thrall’s body again but she was so cold she could barely feel anything. There. Suddenly she felt something hard and grabbed at it. More tufts of snow erupted around her as the thralls continued to fire at her while they ran.
She jumped to her feet and rammed the key into the lock and wrenched it savagely. She sighed in relief as the lock fell away and the door suddenly surged toward her and knocked her away as the people ran blindly out. The thralls kept firing but for everybody that jerked and fell, five more ran past them. Soon the thralls disappeared under the flood of bodies.
Tanya felt a hand on her shoulder and she started in shock until a familiar voice reached her and she calmed instantly.
“Thank you,” Josh Harris said simply as he helped her to her feet. “You saved us all, even if they are too scared to appreciate it.” He smiled at her and then she noticed the others. She looked quizzically at him.
“I thought you were all heading for the hills?”
“We thought that we could give you a few minutes, ‘many hands make light work,’ and all that. We’ll have to hurry, though. This panic will only last so long.”
Tanya felt like kissing the young man in front of her. They were all risking their freedom so they could help her search for her children. She was speechless but decided not to waste their offer.
“Let’s hope that they use the same key for all the cages,” she smiled as she held the key up. She turned and ran toward her children.
Captain William Carter urged the helicopter on as the plant came into sight. Outwardly he forced himself to remain calm and composed, but inside he was desperate to get his feet on the ground. He had to find out about the attack. Had the nuclear waste spilled into the air? Was he already breathing in infected air? Would he win tonight only to die horribly of radiation poisoning later? He had repeatedly demanded updates from the plant as to the status of the spill, but the plant had had no contact with the patrol sent to respond to the SOS since they had left. Had Von Kruger taken out the patrol as well? No. It was daylight. Maybe it was merely the radio signals in the area.
He turned to the pilot and shouted over the roar of the turbines to go back up and follow the patrol’s route and report back either by radio or directly. He then turned and strode toward the plant and the small group of very nervous thralls who waited there for him. The plant’s protectors might be incompetent but he was gratified to see that at least his elite thralls were already moving about the plant, checking the security. He looked up at the sky above and noted the dark clouds rolling in from the north. The air had turned suddenly cold and the sun was already hidden behind the first of the huge banks of cloud. It will be a very short day if that storm comes in, he mused as he reached the small group and began to shout for an update.
Peter Harris slammed on the brakes as he saw a dot in the sky. Why was it coming back? Do they know we’re here? He watched the helicopter grow larger as it closed the distance rapidly. God, if the thralls had enough fuel to run those things more often they’d be screwed. They could cover vast distances and see for miles. The helicopter began to veer off to the north where the main road weaved around the surrounding hills.
“They’re checking on the patrol,” he heard Warkowski mutter beside him and nodded his agreement with the big man.
“They mightn’t know about the explosion, then.” Harris turned the engine off and stepped out of the vehicle. “Come on,” he called to the others. “With that thing up there we can’t risk taking the truck any further. We walk from here.” He ignored the muttered curses and pulled his pack onto his back and stepped out into the light drizzle that had just started.
“Looks like we’re going to get wet on top of everything else,” Warnback complained.
“Be thankful,” Harris laughed. “It’ll keep the radiation from the spill from spreading too far.”
“Won’t help us if the fucking plant blows up,” Warnback muttered but he pulled himself out of the vehicle and started after Harris and the others.
Trevor Atkins, in one of his best periods of lucidity since they had rescued him, insisted he was able to walk on his own. Harris nodded to the man but ordered Carlos Mendez to take the stretchers anyway. He was all too aware of the serum’s debilitating toll. For now, though, the men were happy not to have to carry the scientist. As if to prove his newfound strength, Atkins began his trek by launching into a lecture on the plant and its dangers.
“So my son is really okay?” he asked as he struggled to keep up with Harris’ long strides.
“Yes, Trevor,” Harris sighed at the question. As the scientist had struggled in and out of coherence, his main thought had been for his son. While Harris could understand this, he really needed to know as much about the plant as possible. “He’s fine. We’ll take you to him as soon as we get back, I promise. But, for now, we really need to know about the plant.”
“Oh yes,” he answered, “Of course. You must excuse me; it has been so long since… I have searched …”
“Doc,” Warnback interrupted a little harshly. “We got it. You’re thrilled. Now could we skip to the part about the plant before the horizon lights up and we all sing Halleluiah with the angels?”
Harris was about to intervene but stopped himself. He was as worried as Warnback was. Maybe Atkins needed a firm hand to get as much information from him before the serum took his mind again.
Atkins looked around at the others but nobody jumped to his defence so he sighed and continued.
“You see,” he began, “the plant’s cooling system…”
“Is cooled by feedwater, we know. We’re not bloody amateurs, you know. We have our own expert,” Warnback interrupted. “What we want to know is how likely a meltdown is. In English, mind you, not gibberish.”
Atkins was again taken aback by the man’s interruption, but when the others did not chastise the brute yet again he decided to get to the point.
“Well,” he continued a little breathlessly a
s the walking began to tire him more quickly that he had expected. “As I told you earlier, the calibre of the technicians currently in the plant…”
“They’re fucking useless. We got it already,” Warnback cursed as he stumbled over a rock. “Listen, doc,” he grinned. “While you might have all day, we are currently walking toward a nuclear reactor that, from what you have already told us, might just blow up in our faces as soon as we get to it. Is it too fucking much to ask for you to tell us how likely it is that we will get there in time and, if we do, whether you are going to be able to shut it down in time?”
Atkins was shocked at Warnback’s words, but he was slowly coming to realise the reality of the situation and what he was asking these men to do. He sighed heavily.
“It depends on what has happened since I was there.” He cringed slightly as if waiting for Warnback to interrupt again, but, when the big man remained quiet, he decided to continue. “I am not sure how long ago I was put back in the pens, but when I left the reactor it had already begun to show signs of strain. The coolant systems are not as efficient as they should be. They need to be,” he paused as he searched for the word, “coaxed a bit.”
“Great,” Warnback interrupted with a bitter laugh, “we’ve got a petulant reactor on our doorstep.”
“It’s not like it was in any danger of a meltdown,” Atkins answered back, defending the plant.
“Unless the plant was suddenly being looked after by a bunch of monkeys who don’t know what they’re doing.”
“But that was never…”
“Don’t mind him,” Harris turned and gave Warnback a severe look, “he has a few character flaws that take a while to get used to. We realise that we’re faced with a situation that no one could have predicted, but what our friend here is trying to find out is whether the plant is likely to blow up or not.”
Atkins thought for a moment as he struggled up a particularly steep incline and puffed a few times before he could continue.
“The plant will not blow up,” he continued with as much indignity as his shortened breath would allow. “What do you thing we are? There are so many procedures that…”
“Then why the fuck are we going back if your precious plant is hunky-dory?”
“It won’t blow up but it might experience a meltdown if we don’t get to it in time.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Harris asked as he called for a halt. The scientist was finding it harder to walk and talk and Harris wanted to know as much as he could about the danger they were walking toward.
Atkins slumped to the ground in relief and then continued after a moment.
“Oh no, not at all. A meltdown is where the reactor core is no longer properly controlled and cooled to the extent that the sealed nuclear fuel assemblies - that’s where the uranium or plutonium and other highly radioactive fission products are - begin to overheat and melt.” He paused, but seeing that no one was interrupting him, he continued on. “The problem is that, if the reactor containment is breached, then the core's highly radioactive and toxic elements can escape into the atmosphere and surrounding environment.”
“How bad would that be?” Warkowski asked as he checked his weapons. “Are we not far enough away?”
“It depends.” Atkins sighed, “No one really knows. It doesn’t happen that often and, whenever it had happened in the past, each case has been wildly different. In Chernobyl, the plume travelled for thirty kilometers and caused many deaths over the years from radiation poisoning. In Three Mile Island though, the core practically melted completely but was contained by some miracle. With no equipment or teams of experts to clean up the mess in this case, there’s really no way of knowing how bad it might become, or even whether the plant will shut down or continue to spew radiation after the meltdown. I suppose if it’s left completely unattended after a meltdown it is possible that it might explode at some time in the future. I just don’t know. However, for now, I would say there is little or no chance of the plant exploding for some time, even if a meltdown occurs”. Atkins paused as he looked at those around him. “Unless, of course, someone starts shooting carelessly and destroys critical systems.” He looked pointedly at Warnback, who shrugged.
“I showed the people at the plant what to do to keep it under control,” he continued, “but it is a complex procedure and needs to be alternated depending on where the issues arise. If they continued to perform the same tasks regardless of the symptoms, then it is likely that they are already seeing the cooling system go into the red.”
“What timeframe are we talking about?” Harris pressed the scientist as he recognised the glazed look coming back into his eyes. He signalled for Mendez and Warnback to put the scientist onto the stretcher. Atkins tried at first to resist and then suddenly collapsed into the stretcher with a sigh. “Once the system begins to red-line, it would take a day or two for it to go too far that a meltdown becomes a real possibility. You understand; it was never envisioned that there would be no one there to monitor it…” He trailed off and the others looked at each other. Warnback was about to say something but a withering look form Harris shut him up. Suddenly Atkins rose up in the stretcher and shouted. “You have to get me to the controls so I can shut…” and then he collapsed back onto the stretcher and squirmed restlessly as the men struggled to keep him from falling off.
“Fucking marvellous,” Warnback muttered.
Moving the former prisoners was proving far more difficult than Sandra had expected. She had hoped that, once they had started walking, that the serum junkies would plod along in a relatively straight line. Unfortunately, some of them continuously broke ranks and walked aimlessly in any direction that took their fancy. When she stopped the main group and went to gather them in, some of the others took the opportunity to wander off or simply slumped to the ground and fell into a coma-like trance. They had travelled no more than half a mile in two hours and already her wounded were showing signs of deterioration.
In fact, the only thing that was going in her favour was the fact that the sun had gone in behind heavy cloud cover. But, by their appearance, this good fortune might very well be short-lived. A storm was something that she really did not need. The roads they travelled on were covered in thick, dry dust, and a heavy rainfall would turn them into treacherous mud that would grind them to a halt for certain.
Were they far enough away if the plant blew? Did it even matter? If Peter died in that plant, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go on anymore. She was tired and scared, both physically and emotionally, and she really couldn’t tell anymore if they were helping these poor wretches or not. Would it be so terrible to just walk away? Could she walk away and ignore Pat Smyth’s dire warnings? She was too tired to think. Too tired to care if the plant blew and killed them all. She looked around at her charges and sighed heavily. She knew she couldn’t walk away now. It wasn’t in her to abandon others, and she cursed herself for her weakness. These people depended on her. She couldn’t give up now. She would see them safely back or die trying. She pulled herself to her feet and winced at the pain in her muscles.
But once they were safe. Then she would have to re-evaluate the situation.
The snow was heavier now and Tanya couldn’t feel her toes anymore. The dawn had come and gone and the sun was already high in the sky, but it was still dark. Thick, heavy clouds roiled above her like snakes in a pit and threw the whole camp into darkness. Would the vampires risk coming out? The thought struck her like a slap and she forced herself to keep going. If the vampires came out, she was dead anyway, so she might as well keep going. Her children were just ahead of her. She couldn’t stop now. Josh Harris ran beside her as well as two others that she had never seen before. Why would they risk their lives and their freedom for her? Of course, she reminded herself, it wasn’t for her that they were doing it. It was because Harris had asked them. Who was this guy? She wondered as she ran. How can anyone command such loyalty?
The others had gone to help the rest o
f the prisoners escape. They were already too late to stop the initial surge from running straight for the path she herself would have gone for before Harris had pointed out that the thralls would anticipate such a move. She could see Harris’ men try to stop the panicked mob and direct them to the other, less obvious route. Some stopped and listened, most did not. She couldn’t let that distract her though. She had to get to her children.
Suddenly she was at the gate and her heart pounded as she tried to get the key into the lock with fingers frozen by the cold. All around her she heard screaming and shouting and the sharp crack of gunfire as the thralls tried vainly to stop the escape. Already bodies littered the clearing, but far more were already surging over the rubble to freedom – she hoped.
She heard a click and the lock suddenly dropped away. She felt relief flood through her. They did use the same locks. She had hoped that they would be lazy enough to have one key for all locks, but now that the door was suddenly open in front of her, she couldn’t go in. What if they’re not here? No, they have to be. I saw Emily. Didn’t I?
“Come on, we don’t have much time.” Harris gently but firmly helped her past the gate, and then she was in and her paralysis broke.
“I’m fine,” she assured him and then raced off to the left, scanning the glazed faces around her as she ran. The faces meant nothing to her. She didn’t look at them. She was looking for children. There were so many bodies pressed into this prison and she had so little time.
Suddenly there was a high-pitched scream that broke into even her fevered search. She glanced out through the prison walls and she saw three vampires swoop down and tear three hapless people to pieces. The vampires swooped up into the dark sky as if taunting the sun itself as they flaunted their power. The surge to freedom suddenly became a demented flight as people trampled others in their rush to get away from the vampires. People ran everywhere, heedless of where they were going. Most just followed those in front, trusting that they knew where they were going.
