by S. A. Lusher
Mark hesitated, uncertain of what to say. He didn't want to be alone. He absolutely did not want to be alone. But it was clear that she wasn't willing to back down, and he also knew that he didn't have a strong enough personality to try and make her change her mind.
Jennifer sighed suddenly, her features softened slightly. “Look, you can do this, okay? I know it sucks, but you have to do this.”
“Fine,” he said.
“Good. Thank you. Help me back up into the vent.”
Before they went, they made sure to study the map and memorize the routes they would have to take to get their separate destinations.
It was a bit harder this time, but they managed to get up into the vent the same way as before, though Mark had to boost her up even higher, and he had to jump to catch her waiting hands. Once they were inside, they both went their separate ways.
* * * * *
“There you are,” Jennifer whispered.
She'd finally come to a kind of open area where several ventilation ducts met. She could actually stand up in it. She took a moment to stretch and catch her breath. She was in good shape, great, actually, since she was very dedicated to her job and maintaining her health, but even so, crawling around in the vents after a two week nap would wind anyone. Especially if they were in a hurry, which she was.
Mark worried her.
He was clearly very afraid of the situation. So was she, but Jennifer had long ago decided that she wouldn't let fear rule her life. She'd seen too many people just give up because they were afraid of how hard something might be. She'd failed, a lot, but who didn't? Failures were just landmarks on the road to success. She sure as hell wasn't going to let fear rule her now. Mark on the other hand...he could go either way.
It was something she'd figured out about people. When the situation came to a head, when they were forced to make some kind of decision, some people dug deep for bravery...and came up short. Some people dug deep and were surprised to find that they could, in fact, go on. There was no telling which way it would go with Mark.
With that happy thought, she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then marched over to the ladder lashed to the wall and began climbing. The next deck up was the living quarters deck. She'd been there often enough since she had what the Axiom Corporation laughingly referred to as an apartment there. They all did. Unfortunately, she didn't rank high for an 'executive apartment'. What she lived in was less than a studio apartment in a colony. But it was enough, she supposed, for the chance at a good job and a better paycheck.
Jennifer climbed to the top of the ladder and came to another crossroads. She paused, remembering her route and then selected the appropriate ventilation duct. Getting back down on her hands and knees, she resumed her lengthy crawl. While she did, her mind wiled away the time trying to figure out what the hell could have happened. Mark was right, the pieces didn't quite fit. Although she liked her idea of human experimentation, (not that she liked the idea itself, obviously, but the fact that it fit the clues much better), something was off about it.
If it was human experimentation, then where the fuck was everyone?
There were apparently only six people left onboard. Six out of a thousand. That just didn't seem possible. She figured there was a good chance there had been some kind of emergency. Maybe a rescue assault had been launched and they'd evacuated almost everyone? Maybe they'd gotten left behind because of some oversight...or an emergency? What if the engines were in meltdown or something? Jennifer let out an irritated huff.
Too many questions, too many possibilities.
What she needed to do was clear her mind and focus on the here and now, because this was, for all intents and purposes, a warzone. And getting distracted in a warzone led to death, more often than not. However...
She paused as she came by a ventilation grate. It overlooked someone's bedroom in one of the 'apartments'. Maybe she could find some clues. So far, she hadn't heard or seen anyone around. As she weighed the pros and cons of getting out and investigating, she realized the fault in her logic. How could this be a warzone with only four other people? Mark had said something was interfering with the BioScan, but he didn't seem too convinced that it really was. After a moment, she decided to hunt for more clues.
Jennifer opened up the vent and crawled out, landing on the floor with a soft grunt.
It was immediately obvious that something had gone wrong in the apartment. There'd been some kind of struggle. Jennifer stood where she was, studying the scene before her. The far wall was covered with bullet holes, but...she glanced back over her shoulder. There was no return fire. What in the hell had someone been shooting at that much, (there were easily two dozen clearly visible bullet holes), that hadn't been shooting back?
What was stranger, the area around her was splashed liberally with blood. It was all over the bed to her left, the desk to her right, and yet...no body. She frowned, continuing her examination. There was a huge pool of blood, then a blood trail. Except the trail wasn't the kind you'd see if someone had dragged the corpse away. It was almost as if...no, Jennifer shook her head, rejecting the idea. Then, reluctantly, she let her train of thought continue.
It was as if someone had killed whoever had been in this apartment, then, after lying around for a while, bleeding out, they'd gotten up and walked out. She supposed it would possible someone could have provided some emergency medical care and helped whoever it was out, but...no, there was just too much blood. This amount of blood would be fatal. So what the hell did that mean? Jennifer realized the metallic reek of blood was starting to get to her. She made her way across the room, to the door, and opened it up.
After waiting a moment, she poked her head out and looked around. A decently-lit corridor awaited her inspection, stretching away from her both left and right. There was more blood on the walls, the floor, even the ceiling...but no bodies. Just more questions. For a moment, Jennifer rethought the map she'd memorized. She was sick of vents anyway and there didn't actually seem to be anyone around. She wasn't too far from where the other life signs had been registered. Once she had it worked out in her head, Jennifer struck off once more.
She made her way quickly down the corridor, made a right hand turn and paused as she saw something up ahead. There was a hole in the wall to the left. It looked like it had been blown open or maybe even ripped open somehow. It was dark in the hole. Something about it raised her primal instincts, set them on edge, warning her away from it. Despite this, she took a few steps closer to this mysterious hole.
As she came within about two meters of it, she froze.
Somehow, someway, she was absolutely convinced that there was something in that hole. Something alive. Something that wanted to do her harm. Without knowing how or why she knew this, Jennifer decided not to press her luck any further. She had literally no idea what had occurred during those missing two weeks.
There could be anything in there.
How many stories had she heard of weird alien wildlife or bizarre diseases?
Jennifer turned away, retracing her steps and recalculating her journey. She took another turn and made her way to the end of this new corridor. As she approached the edge of it, however, she froze once more.
Something was moving up ahead.
Something was growling.
Jennifer grabbed the wrench.
* * * * *
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Mark whispered.
There'd been some kind of explosion or something...the way ahead was blocked, and this vent he'd been crawling through had gone on for quite a while. Fifty meters at least. How far back was the next duct? Mark did some quick calculations in his head as he started at the damaged section just up ahead of him.
Well, he was pretty close to where he needed to be. If he got out here, (there was a grate to his right that was showing a disused storage room), then he would be practically down the hall from the primary security center where he could lift the damned lockdown. That was
well and good and all, except that he felt paralyzed with terror. He didn't want to leave the vents, not at all. Who the hell knew what was out there?
He had fought down the urge to call Jennifer on the radio several times now. Her presence had been extremely comforting. He hadn't even realized how comforting until she was gone. He felt alone and afraid and miserable, even though he had encountered nothing and no one this whole way here. He hadn't signed on for this...but that didn't matter much now he supposed. Mark closed his eyes and remembered what Jennifer had said.
“Look, you can do this, okay? I know it sucks, but you have to do this.”
She seemed to have faith in him, in his abilities...and she clearly wasn't an idiot. She must know what she was talking about, which meant...he could do this. He was also reminded of his thoughts in the tank. It didn't really matter whether or not he felt up to it...he had to do this. Jennifer was right. The job needed to get done.
With a heavy sigh, Mark mustered up his courage and opened the grate. He poked his head out and looked around. The storage room was empty. Good, fine, perfect. He crawled out and awkwardly lowered himself onto the floor. After doing a more thorough search of the room and coming up with nothing of use, he moved over to the door and opened it up. A corridor waited for him. There was a spray of blood on the far wall.
Mark hesitated, then groaned and stepped out, trying to ignore it. Except it wasn't all that easy to ignore. There was a lot of blood. What had happened here? Mark turned and began making his way down the corridor. All he had to do was make it to the end of this corridor, another dozen steps or so, turn left, walk another ten steps maybe and then he'd be there, at the security center. Maybe there'd be a gun inside...
As Mark approached the T junction up ahead, something cut loose with a low growl.
Mark froze. The growl sounded familiar, very close to what he thought he'd heard in the vent shaft not all that long ago. Except that this time he was sure he heard it. And it was nearby, very close. He heard footsteps.
They were slow, uneven, almost dragging.
Mark swallowed, his whole body going cold, his mouth going dry. In a flash, he remembered that Jennifer had armed him. He glanced down, saw the hammer cinched into his belt. Well...now or never, right?
Mark placed his hand on the head of the hammer, preparing to pull it out. He glanced back over his shoulder. He could run. He could just take off, find another way around maybe...only, what if there were more back the way he had come? More what? The footsteps were getting closer. Mark made a small whimpering sound.
Fight or flight.
Something shifted into view from around the corner.
At first, Mark couldn't quite reconcile what he was looking at. It was a man. A man wearing a torn, ripped, bloodied white jumpsuit. A medic, then. He was drooling and very, very pale and there was something on his face...and something wrong with his eyes...only, no. There wasn't something on his face, it was in his face.
Black lines. Veins, Mark realized slowly.
Black veins beneath dead pale skin, the color of snow. And blood, he realized, was smeared around this thing's mouth.
Speaking of its mouth...
The man caught sight of him and let out a hissing growl, opening his mouth wider. Mark took a step back, his heart hammering in his chest as he spied the thing's teeth. They were elongated, sharper. And, yes, its fingernails, too. They were sharper, thicker, sturdier. More like claws than fingernails. The man...no, not a man, a creature, raised its arms and began increasing its pace, making a beeline straight for him.
Mark tried to take another step back but felt frozen. There was something in his hand, his right hand. He glanced down.
The hammer.
He'd pulled out the hammer.
Flight or fight?
Mark felt the decision being made for him. His body reacted instinctively, violently, as he let out a scream that both invigorated and terrified him even as he leaped forward, hammer raised high over his head. He brought the flat end down as hard as he could, granted speed and strength by the adrenaline currently being pumped into his body. The hammer connected with the thing's skull and cracked it open on impact.
The creature immediately fell to the floor in a heap as a spray of thick, syrupy black blood, like sludge or oil, escaped its ruined cranium.
Mark stared at the inhuman monstrosity for several moments, breathing heavily, trembling with terror and adrenaline.
He had just killed a zombie.
A zombie.
Slowly, he activated his radio. “Jennifer...Jennifer, I need help,” he whispered.
“A little busy right now!” Jennifer replied.
Something roared in the background.
CHAPTER 03
–True Terror–
All of Jennifer's theories went right out the window as she turned the corner and found herself staring at a pair of walking horrors.
They were people...or they once had been. A man and a woman. The man wore civilians clothing: a t-shirt and jeans. The woman was a member of the security force. Jennifer recognized her. She was dark-skinned, tall, thin, but she was wicked fast with a gun and during the occasional times they'd sparred at the onboard gym she'd given Jennifer a real run for her money. Her name was Leah and she was a very competent individual with an easy laugh. Normally she was so composed, so...together. Now she was a vision of pure horror.
Her skin had paled noticeably and midnight black veins ran just beneath the surface. Her eyes had filled with a similar darkness, like pools of sludge. Her black jumpsuit was shredded in several places, and liberally splashed with dark splotches of blood. Her right hand was missing. Judging by the ragged ends of flesh, it looked like someone had torn it off. It was still dripping blood, in fact, but it wasn't regular blood.
It was black, like a thick, syrupy oil.
All of these cosmetic changes registered in a heartbeat, but what really had Jennifer worried was the fact that both of their jaws now seemed somehow larger, bulkier, and sported a nest of razor sharp, pointed teeth that looked as though they had one goal in mind: the rending of flesh. Similarly, their hands were somewhat bigger and their fingers now ended in claws that looked like they had a comparable goal to them.
All at once, both of these inhuman creatures took notice of Jennifer. They both let out sounds that almost seemed like triumph, as if malignantly joyful at the prospect of having sighted fresh flesh to feast on. Never in her life had Jennifer wanted a sidearm more than at that moment. All she had, however, was her wrench and her screwdriver. Leah and the other guy both started coming for her at once, their arms raised, Leah's stump dripping black blood across the deckplates. Jennifer took a step backwards involuntary, then raised the wrench.
There was no time to reason out why this had happened or what even was happening. There were two hostiles directly in front of her and they clearly intended to do her harm. What's worse, they looked...diseased.
She couldn't let them touch her.
Jennifer took a step forward, knowing she had to do this just right, she'd only get one great first shot at it. She raised the wrench high over her head and brought it down in a tight, fast arc, slamming into Leah's skull with all of her might. There was a horrible, gut-wrenching crack as the force of the blow split her cranium and released a spray of black gore. The Leah creature let out an earsplitting shriek and collapsed to the floor.
It didn't move.
One down, one to go.
Unfortunately, that other one was fast, faster than it should have been. As Jennifer was turning to face it, the male creature made a leap for her, nearly grabbing her arm. She heard a loud clack as its teeth came together in a chomping motion mere inches from her flesh. It quickly corrected its stance and came for her again. Jennifer brought her booted foot up, planted it firmly against the thing's chest and shoved hard.
The inhuman beast flew backwards, slamming into a nearby wall, but not falling.
Jennifer's earpiece crackled to l
ife. “Jennifer...Jennifer, I need help.” It was Mark.
“A little busy right now!” she replied as the monster righted itself and loosed a roar. It began running for her.
She sidestepped and brought the wrench around in another tight arc as the thing stumbled past her. The tool connected with the back of it's head and that was it: lights out. It stopped stumbling and instead hit the floor with a solid thump. Jennifer stood there for a long moment, staring at the creature, her eyes slowly drifting between the two corpses she'd just produced. She realized she was breathing heavily, close to hyperventilating, actually. She took a deep breath, to try and calm herself, but that just made her gag.
These things smelled horrible.
She took a step away from the bodies, towards the nearest door, then another step, slowly trying to come back to herself. She made it to the door and opened it up. Inside was another small apartment. It was empty. She stepped inside, closed the door and locked it firmly behind her. Then she sat down heavily on the bed across the room, trying to gather her thoughts. Not an easy task, given what had just transpired.
Her earpiece crackled again. “Jennifer?”
Mark. She'd forgotten about him. “Mark. Are you okay? What happened?”
“I was attacked by...” he hesitated.
“By what?” Jennifer pressed.
“...a zombie.”
She was silent for a long moment. He was right. These things...they were zombies. They fit all the characteristics. Pale skin, black blood, sharp teeth and claws, stumbling, drooling nightmares bent on the eating of flesh...
“Jennifer?...I'm not crazy, I know what I saw.”
“I know. I saw them too, Mark. Did you get bit? Did you get any blood on you?”
“No. I didn't. I killed one. Then I...I'm hiding in a storage closet.”
“I'm hiding, too. It's fine...god, this changes things a bit...I guess this might be what was throwing off the BioScan, right?”
