Extinct
Page 36
“You want to jog?” Robby asked.
“Yes,” Brynn said.
They shuffled faster. The snow here was easier to walk on. The shoes only seemed to disturb the top few inches of snow and didn’t sink down at all. On the island, snow was shoveled or plowed so fast they never saw much call for snowshoes, but Robby had learned the trick at his grandmother’s house. Robby relaxed a little when he saw Nate standing near the back of his tractor’s cab. Nate was emptying a blue jug of fuel into the tractor’s tank.
“You coming?” Robby asked.
“Yup,” Nate said. They waited for him while he finished his task and then climbed down into the snow. “You guys go first and I’ll walk in your tracks.”
The three headed up the line of tractors, passing into the darkness alongside Romie’s sled. Robby stayed in front, picking out Brad’s tracks with his headlamp.
“I don’t think you guys need those,” Nate said.
“Need what?” Robby asked.
“Those shoes,” Nate said. “Look.”
Robby turned back, aware of the sled full of corpses to his side, and annoyed at the delay in the darkness. Nate was using his foot to sweep away the snow from a small area. Robby and Brynn huddled around him to see his discovery. Under about ten inches of powder, a thick, clear layer of ice supported them. When all the snow was cleared away, the ice looked like glass over pure blackness.
“Cool,” Brynn said. His hands flew to the straps on his shoes and he shed them with quick motions. With his shoes off, he ran off to the north towards the bobbing headlamps of the rest of the group.
“He has to pee,” Robby said to Nate. “He wants Lisa to take him.”
“I figured,” Nate said. “Let’s catch up. These bodies are creepy.”
Nate picked up Brynn’s snowshoes and Robby removed his own. They jogged the length of three trailers to find Romie, Lisa, and Christine talking to Brynn. The women decided to head out together to heed nature’s call. Nate leaned Brynn’s snowshoes against the tracks of the tractor, next to where the women had leaned theirs.
Nate and Robby continued on to meet up with Pete and Brad. They didn’t make it very far. After only a dozen steps, they stopped when the wind brought them Romie’s scream. The wind also kicked up a swirl of snow, so they couldn’t spot the group of women.
“Brynn!” Nate shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the gust.
Nate sprinted away from the convoy on a diagonal to intercept the group. Robby followed. All he could see ahead of him was the reflection of his lamp in the big flakes of snow. Robby reached up and covered his lamp so he could follow the dim glow of Nate’s light ahead of him. The wind brought another panicked cry from the women. Robby couldn’t tell who’s voice it was.
When Robby caught up with Nate, the man had reached the group of women. Brynn and Christine were on their knees in the snow. Lisa was on her stomach between them. Nate was straddling Lisa, and the two of them were reaching down into the snow. Robby came up alongside Christine and followed her gaze down.
Lisa and Nate were gripping Romie’s hands. Romie was so deep into the snow that only her hands projected up above the loose powder.
“Pull!” Nate said.
“I’m trying,” Lisa said.
“What happened?” Robby asked Christine.
Christine didn’t answer. She was trying to lean down far enough to grab Romie’s jacket. Christine withdrew, pulled off her glove and managed to get a grip on a piece of fabric. On the other side, Brynn tried to help too, but he couldn’t reach far enough. Robby circled and took Brynn’s place. The four of them managed to tug Romie up onto the ledge of ice. Everyone gasped for air by the time they got her to safety.
Romie was still panting when she started talking—“The ice… It just ends there. One second—good footing. The next…”
Robby still wore his snowshoes strapped to his back. He removed one and began tapping out a line in the snow, scraping the powder away from the edge of the ice. He discovered the ledge of ice ran in the same direction as the highway they’d been following with their tractors. Beyond the ledge, the snow was so light and unpacked that it wouldn’t support any weight. He couldn’t even lay his snowshoe down on the loose snow without it immediately sinking in under its own weight.
Robby left one of his snowshoes with the women and he and Nate took the other to go find Brad and Pete.
They followed Brad’s footprints and were halfway up Pete’s sled when the lights ahead on Pete’s tractor went dark.
“What now?” Nate said, sighing.
Robby and Nate began to jog. They only slowed when the reached the front of the tractor. There they found Pete and Brad leaning up against the front grill. Their headlamps were out.
“What the hell are you doing in the dark?” Nate asked.
“Turn out your lights and see,” Pete said. He shielded his eyes against Robby’s light as Robby looked him in the eye.
When they switched their lights off, Robby’s young eyes adjusted quickly. Nate took several seconds longer to see. Far off on the horizon, on the far edge of the sky, a soft yellow glow lit up the clouds.
“Is it a fire?" Nate asked.
“Could be,” Pete said. “If there was anything to burn.”
“No,” Robby said. “Not fire. That’s where we’re headed.”
“If you like that, you’re going to love this,” Brad said.
“What?" Nate asked.
“One more second,” Brad said. “Keep watching.”
The blue light began as a far off glimmer. It looked like a blue shadow of the yellow light on the horizon, but it swelled and travelled towards them. It was barely visible. In fact, when Robby looked directly at the blue glow it seemed to disappear. He only saw it if he looked to the side and experienced the blue glow in his peripheral vision. But it was definitely there. He was sure because it was moving towards them.
“Oh shit,” Nate said when he realized the light was about to overtake their position. Nate scrambled back and pushed himself up on the grill of the tractor as it lit up beneath their feet.
“It’s the highway,” Pete said. “If you compare its path to the map, the glow follows the highway exactly. I think it’s coming from the ice.”
“It’s the circulatory system you described, isn’t it, Robby?” Brad asked.
“Yes,” Robby said.
“Is it safe to travel on the ice?" Pete asked.
“It’s not safe to leave,” Nate said.
Nate described Romie’s discovery at the edge of the highway.
Pete voiced a concern—“The GPS is only moderately accurate, and mine has been cutting out frequently…”
“Same here,” Brad said.
“And if we slip off the edge of the ice, we might just plunge fifty feet into loose snow. We’re going to have to send somebody out ahead on foot to make sure we stay on the ice.”
“We don’t have much time,” Robby said.
“Why?" Pete asked. “I don’t want to be out here forever, but what’s so pressing I have to risk my neck?”
“I’d rather not say,” Robby said. “I’ll take the front tractor.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Pete said. “I’d rather have none of us take the risk.”
“I understand,” Robby said.
“We can follow the light,” Brad said. “If the blue glow is coming from the ice, then all we have to do is turn off all our lights and follow the light.”
“It’s periodic, but it does come often enough. We might be able to follow it,” Pete said.
“I should still take the lead,” Robby said. “My eyes are sensitive. I have the best night-vision.”
“But I’m the best at driving these rigs,” Pete said.
“Pete drives and Robby navigates,” Nate said. “Brynn can drive alone. If we do want to navigate by the light coming off the ice, we better get it done while it’s still dark out. We don’t have time to lose, and we can’t afford to screw this
up.”
“I don’t like it,” Brad said. “I can hang back a little so I’ll know if Brynn veers off course, but what can I do about it? What if he falls asleep?”
“Just jump on the radio,” Nate said.
“Yeah, I guess,” Brad said. “I still don’t like it.”
“Let’s top off the tanks while we’re stopped,” Nate said.
“Definitely,” Brad said.
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
AS THEY STEERED carefully north, the pulses of light from the ice increased in frequency, but the sky grew lighter with each passing mile, so seeing the road remained difficult.
“A little left,” Robby said.
He and Pete sat in the dark in the cab of the tractor. All the lights—inside and out—were off. The only illumination inside the vehicle was from the yellow glow on the horizon and the faint blue pulses of light from the ice on the highway. Robby took over the duty of starting the roll calls. Every five minutes he would announce his name and wait for each driver to respond. He listened to each of their voices, trying to detect if any were close to drifting off.
The blue glow of the ice was so faint that Robby invested all of his attention. Between pulses he imagined he still saw the light, like his retinas burned with its image. On the horizon, the glow either shifted color, or just appeared different, because it seemed almost white. A flat, horizontal line marked the horizon. Above the line, the clouds reflected the light; below it, the snow stretched out in a dusty gray plane, broken only by the pulses of blue from the ice. Robby concentrated on nothing but the path of the blue pulse. He must have been ignoring his other senses, because Pete surprised him with a question.
“What’s that noise, Robby? You hear it?” Pete asked.
Robby hadn’t heard, but now he did. The noise was rhythmic, and sounded like a crunch, like potato chips. Each second, in perfect time—crunch, crunch, crunch. After one more pulse to guarantee they were still on-course, Robby spun to look out the back window. His eyes, well-adjusted to the dark, picked out the movement. The sound came from the legs of one of the corpses; the crunch was the crinkling of the tarp as the legs thrust against it. Strapped down horizontally, the corpse appeared to be marching in place.
The radio erupted with Nate’s voice—“Hey guys, we got a problem.”
“Here too,” Romie’s voice chimed in.
Suddenly they were all talking. Robby was still looking out the back window, unable to take his eyes from the moving legs. Pete grabbed the radio and cut through the clutter of voices.
“One at a time, please,” he yelled. “Nate, go ahead.”
“I think some of these dead are starting to not be so dead,” Nate said. The radio chirped as he finished his statement.
“What the hell do you mean?” Pete asked over the radio.
“One of them has started to move around. He’s still strapped in, but he’s moving,” Nate said.
“Here too,” Romie said.
Christine, Lisa, and Brad all confirmed with their own observations. Brynn stayed silent.
Pete began to slow down the tractor.
“No! Don’t stop,” Robby said. “Go faster. We have to get them to the source.” He leaned forward and resumed his effort to spot the path.
Pete spared a glance at Robby and then lifted the radio. He thumbed the talk-switch. “We’re going to speed up and try to get this thing finished before everything goes sideways.”
He heard no response for a few seconds.
“Are you serious, Pete?” Lisa asked over the radio.
“Yes,” Pete said. He engaged the throttle and the tractor began to pick up speed. Their acceleration hitched unevenly—the tracks skittered on the ice as they tried to pick up speed. The blue streak of ice ahead took a long, sweeping curve to the right. They saw a slight shadow to the right of their path. The ice stood a little higher than the surrounding snow, making it easier for Pete to steer on top of the shelf of ice.
A light in the mirror caught Pete’s eye.
“Robby,” he said, “what’s going on back there?”
Robby tore his eyes from the path reluctantly and followed Pete’s gaze to the side-mounted mirror. In the darkness behind them, the line of tractors and sleds swept back in an arc. All were dark—lights off—except the second to last. On that tractor, just the yellow running lights were on, and the tractor veered out of line a bit. As far as Robby could tell, the tractor wasn’t in any immediate danger of slipping off the ice shelf, but it would be if it continued to veer.
“That’s Brynn’s tractor,” Robby said. He picked up the radio from the seat beside Pete. “Brynn, are you okay? What’s going on back there?”
They heard no response.
“Brad? Can you see anything?” Robby asked.
“Nothing but the back of Brynn’s trailer,” Brad said. “What’s going on?”
“Brynn is veering to the right. Brynn, can you hear me? Brad, slow down a little so you can follow our tracks,” Robby said.
Nate’s voice broke in over the radio—“Brynn? Listen up—I’m going to scuttle my tractor. I’ll be there in a minute. You hold on.”
“Nate, don’t!” Robby shouted. “We need you in your tractor. We’ve got the extra person. I’ll go find out what’s up with Brynn.”
“Do something quick, or I will,” Nate said.
Robby dropped the radio to his lap.
“I have to go back there,” Robby said to Pete.
“What? How?" Pete asked.
“We’re not going fast,” Robby said. “I’ll jump out and then run alongside.”
“It might not look fast, but there’s no way you could keep up running on ice and snow. You’d slip and get chewed under by the tracks,” Pete said. “The ice looks wide enough. We could let the others pass us. Look—you can even see the sides of the road now. The snow drops off on either side. I’m not sure we’re still on the highway, but the ice shelf is fairly obvious.”
“What about the snowmobile?” Robby asked. Each sled carried a snowmobile strapped to the back, just behind the stacks of bodies.
“You’ll never get back there while we’re moving, and it’s lashed sideways. We have to stop, set up the ramps to the side, and then what? You can ride up next to Brynn’s trailer, but how will you transfer to the tractor? It’s too high up to climb into the cab from a moving snowmobile.”
“We have to do something fast,” Robby said.
“Tell the others to pass,” Pete said.
Robby picked up the radio and took a deep breath. He held up the radio with one hand and reached the other in his jacket pocket to touch the Volvo mirror he carried. “Christine, you’re going to take the lead. Pass us on the right when we move left. You’ll be able to see the edge of the road. There’s a shadow there. Stay away from the edge and keep your speed even as you pass. Got it?”
“I just keep following the blue ice?" Christine asked.
“Yes,” Robby said. “Everyone else, just pass us on the right. Brad, you’re going to stay behind Brynn. Drop back a bit so you can stop if something happens.”
“Okay,” Brad said.
“Good luck,” Lisa said.
Pete started moving to the left as soon as Robby got on the radio. The sled lurched behind them and shook the tractor as he shifted its bulk towards the left edge of the ice. Robby’s stomach rose and flopped as Pete straightened the tractor again. The sled kept moving left and tugged at the back of the tractor as Pete corrected their direction. Once moved over, Pete dropped their speed. Christine began to pull past them a few seconds later.
“Just follow the shadow, Christine, and move back to the center when I let you know,” Robby said. He watched her trailer full of corpses pull by before giving her the okay. Right behind her, Lisa’s tractor came into view. Romie was hanging back a little. She seemed to have more trouble than the others keeping her tractor to the edge of the ice and on-course. She swerved towards Robby and Pete a couple of times, and Pete cursed her un
der his breath.
“Brynn, are you there? We’re coming,” Robby said.
“Brynn’s still on the road,” Brad said. “Just barely, but still on.”
When Romie finally moved by, Robby let her know on the radio so she could move back to the center of the road again. Even that move seemed to cause her trouble. Romie’s sled sloshed back and forth. She overcorrected her skid and then finally found her mark.
Nate kept abreast of Pete and Robby while Romie weaved back and forth. When he saw enough room, he waved to Robby and then accelerated his tractor fast, pulling up to the back of Romie’s sled. When everyone passed, Robby finally had a clear view out his side mirror. Brynn’s tractor chugged along with its running lights on, hugging the right side of the ice. Pete slowed to let Brynn’s tractor catch up and then he matched its speed.
Robby pressed his face against his window as Pete maneuvered to get as close to Brynn as possible. With only the running lights and the faint glow from the sky, it was difficult to be sure, but Robby thought he saw the tarp covering the bodies at the front of Brynn’s sled slipping loose from its straps. It fluttered back. As they drew even closer, Robby saw several of the bodies spilling forward from their stack.
“Tell me me how much space I’ve got,” Pete said. The sleds were a little wider than the tractors, so Pete couldn’t precisely judge how close he could get before the sleds would collide. Robby gave him a countdown and Pete closed the distance.
With the sleds nearly touching Robby judged the distance between the tractors. He nodded to Pete and climbed out on the running board, slipping past the door before closing it behind him. Nobody sat in the driver’s seat of Brynn’s tractor.
Pete lowered the window and yelled to be heard over the rolling, clinking tracks—“Reach out and grab the mirror if you can.”
Robby tested his weight on the mirror mounted to his own tractor before stretching out for the other one. It was mounted on a long arm to give visibility around the wide sled. Pete had mounted the extra mirrors himself; Robby hoped he’d done it well. Beneath him, the tracks churned up the loose snow. He watched them roll as he reached for the Brynn’s mirror. The gap between the tractors expanded and shrank. At their closest, Robby’s gloved fingers brushed the mirror on Brynn’s tractor. He would need several more inches to grip the support bar. Robby pulled his hand back and removed his glove with his teeth.