Desolate The Complete Trilogy

16



Howard and Carl stood in the doorway staring at what was left of Reg on the floor. After they woke up, they searched each building for him and made a grisly discovery in the infirmary. He was dead. Neither of them had any medical training, but when a person is cut in half at the waist, it’s pretty obvious he’s not in stable condition. The torso half of Reg was missing all of its entrails. Like the guard in the storeroom, his body cavity was completely empty and the organs were nowhere in sight. Howard was reminded of the generator cable. Reg wasn’t sliced in half by a blade; it looked like he was grabbed by both ends and pulled apart.

“We better get back to the guard house,” Howard said. “Whatever did this can’t be too far away.”

They entered the guard house and found it in shambles. It seemed no corner of the building was left untouched. All the windows were smashed and the outside door was ripped off the hinges. The furniture was destroyed and the food was scattered about the kitchen.

Carl picked up an empty bottle and hurled it against the wall. “Son of a bitch! What in the hell are we going to do now? Somebody is royally f*cking with us. We weren’t gone for more than fifteen minutes.”

“Take it easy, Carl. We need to find someplace safe. I don’t know who killed Reg and trashed this place, but I think you’re right. They’re definitely messing with us. They knew we were safe and comfortable in here and now we can’t even close the door.”

“And just where are we supposed to go? I ain’t hiding back in that ship.”

“Let’s just get out of here,” replied Howard. “They know we’ll have come back to the guard house and I feel like a sitting duck.”

The shotgun Reg dropped earlier was smashed to bits and the M4 from the dead guard in the storage room was missing. The only weapon they had to defend themselves with was the Glock 21 handgun Carl had tucked in his waistband.

They went to the warden’s office which was also in shambles but only because the state of his office cleanliness wasn’t a very high priority once his inmates and guards started dying on him.

“I was in here after I beat the shit out of poor Reg.” Carl stared at the messy desk. “The screws worked me over real good and put me in the hole. When I got out, the warden brought me in here to lecture the shit out of me. I saw a map of the island in a stack of papers here somewhere.”

They shuffled through the mess on the desktop and drawers until Howard found the map. He studied the crescent shape of the island. The farm was near the southern shore of the bay. On the north shore was an area labeled Old Whaling Village and on the west coast Howard saw a small mark labeled Amundsen Research Installation (U.S.).

“Hey Carl, take a look at this. Did you know there was a research installation on this island?”

“No, Sir. I figured we were the only ones to be crazy enough to be on this rock. You think anybody is there?”

“I don’t know. But even if there isn’t, it’s probably a hell of a lot safer than here.”

Carl’s face lit up. “And if anybody is there, we got these guard uniforms on. They won’t know we ain’t real screws.”

According to the scale on the map, the research station looked to be about eight or ten miles away. They would have to navigate over Stonethrow Ridge and what appeared to be about three miles worth of glacier before getting to the western coast. From there, they could just follow the rocky shore to get to the research station.

Carl fashioned a crude pack out of a pillowcase and shoelaces and they supplied themselves the best they could. They filled it with a jar of peanut butter, four slices of bread, half a chocolate bar, and three water bottles. He was able to stuff in a canvas tarp to use as a makeshift shelter, just in case.

They headed out of the camp and walked in the general direction of the research station. Although it was cold, Howard guessed it was under twenty degrees, they were dressed well in guard parkas. The sky was overcast but dry.

Stonethrow Ridge on the map was home to the platinum mine. They walked past the tunnel and started to climb. According to the map, the ridge peaked at six hundred feet. The brittle ground crumbled away from their hands and feet as they slowly made their way up.

After about an hour of climbing, Howard and Carl finally got to the top of the ridge. They paused to catch their breath and surveyed the land before them. At the bottom of the ridge lay the massive glacier they would have to cross, but at least it looked relatively level and smooth from there.

“Not too bad, hey Howie? Just like walking over a frozen lake.”

“Don’t be too sure,” replied Howard. “I’ve seen enough TV and movies to know we’ll probably run into some crevasses. I think they can get as wide as a hundred feet. It could take hours to try to find a way around. And that’s if we don’t fall into one and break our necks.”

“Shit, man. You got a knack for pissing on my parade.”

Howard wasn’t listening. He had turned around and was looking at the farm below in the distance. Even though they’d been walking and climbing for over an hour, the camp was still close enough to see clearly.

“What’s the matter?” Carl asked.

“Look,” Howard pointed his finger.

Carl squinted at the buildings in the distance and spotted what Howard was looking at. Sitting on the roof of one of the barracks was the form of something. It could best be described as “something” because it definitely wasn’t human. It just sat there, watching them.

“What the hell is that?” Howard whispered.

“I don’t know. Too far away to make out.” Carl felt the reassuring bulge of the .45 tucked away underneath his parka. The thing quickly jumped off the roof and out of sight.