Read O-Negative: Extinction Online

Authors: Hamish Cantillon

O-Negative: Extinction (11 page)

 

Given the temperature was about -20 the Captain of the transport plane didn’t want to be on the ground for an extended period of time and before long he was taxiing for take-off.  As the plane took off to return to Halley Lieutenant Taylor and Sergeant Tucker were getting the men inside the tracks’ carriers.  Though the carriers now had seats and a rudimentary electrical heating system run from the engine he knew it would still be pretty chilly – especially if they were in there for extended periods of time.   In addition each of the carriers were carrying two metal drums full of the diesel they’d need to make it to Amundsen-Scott – and, hopefully, back to their present location.  Though the drums were sealed the smell of diesel always leaked out and he didn’t envy the soldiers in the carrier at all.

 

After the men and equipment were loaded he set off in the lead track accompanied by Sergeant Tucker.  Lieutenant Harper took up the rear with Corporal Brightwater while Jimmy and a Lance Corporal Edwards, commanded the middle track.   The idea was that he would lead them across the plateaux in 4 hour shifts, separated by 15 minute ‘leg stretch breaks’ for the men.  Originally Lieutenant Taylor had suggested the breaks be used so the men could go to the toilet but Joe had pointed out that if they relieved themselves in anything below -30 they were liable to freeze their John Thomases off.  The men hadn’t seemed so keen on doing this and each carrier had therefore been hastily furnished with metal canisters purloined from the transport plane.  After 8 hours the group would stop and put up a cook tent to ensure the men got something to eat.  This was actually quite important as replenishing the calories they’d lose while trying to keep warm in the carriers would help ward off hypothermia.

 

He’d discussed the route with Lieutenant Taylor but given they were already well away from the coast and on the central plateaux, it was more a case of figuring out distances and sticking to the tracks’ satellite navigation systems.  He’d also brought his maps as the sat navs weren’t infallible especially when the weather came in and there was always the possibility of needing to make a diversion around a particularly tricky area of terrain.  On a previous trip he’d previously come across miles and miles of ice extrusions, which after the wind had weathered round the softer ice left a landscape of large concrete like lumps every couple of metres.  Traversing these areas in a snow track was virtually impossible.  Though the tracks could handle gradients up to 40 per cent lumps of ice above 50 centimetres definitely meant you had to go round.

 

Everything seemed to be going fine when he stopped the track after the first four hours and Lieutenant Taylor squeezed into the cab to have a quick chat.

 

‘So Dr Harper so far so good.  Any problems from your side?’

 

“Nope everything’s fine, how are the boys holding up in the tin cans?”

 

Lieutenant Taylor replied. “A few grumbles about the cold and the smell but they seem pretty much ok.”  Sergeant Tucker laughed – “sounds like the same old complaints except now they’re too cold as opposed to too hot”.  Joe smiled as he remembered being stuck in the back of a super-heated personnel carrier on the way to a drop off in the desert.

 

“So Dr Harper we’re not too far from where we’ve previously lost contact with the flight from Rothera so keep your eyes peeled.  I’m also thinking of putting a couple of guys on the snow mobiles we loaded into the last carrier – how long can they stay out in their snow suits?”

 

He frowned.  “Well to be honest Lieutenant on a snow mobile a few hours, but that’s driving at about 10 mph - we’re currently averaging about 40, which the snow mobiles can match but the wind chill at that speed will mean they’ll only be able to manage half an hour at most.  Probably best to send them out when we cross over this 500 mile limit and then only if we spot something.  The weather’s been good so far and visibility is good enough that we can see 3 miles to the horizon anyway.”

 

Lieutenant Taylor nodded in agreement. “Ok let’s do that”.  The Lieutenant then got out of the cab and jogged back to the third track. 

 

Joe could see that the men who’d exited the carriers after they’d stopped weren’t going to need the full 15 minutes stretching their legs - most of them had got back into the carriers apart from a couple of hardy smokers.  He revved his engine and with that the final stragglers got in and he moved off again. 

 

30 minutes later Lieutenant Taylor came on the radio to tell him what he already knew which was that they were approaching the invisible line of what he’d come to view as the ‘line of no return’.  Up until this point they could simply turn back to the landing strip, call up the transport plane and return to the relative civilisation of Halley Station.  He stopped the track and got out.  Lieutenant Taylor also got out and started getting the men in his carrier to unload the two snow mobiles.  The two Marines who were going to be riding them put on their suit face masks and goggles.  He went over to see them.

 

‘Ok guys so this isn’t going to be too pleasant.  Though the temperature isn’t too bad this time of year when you get the mobiles up to speed you’re really going to feel the cold.  Don’t breathe through your mouth unless you need to and keep both hands on the steering column – it’s best if you remain seated – keeps more of your body heat in – less exposed areas and all that.  If you feel yourself becoming sleepy or overly alert call us on the radio and we’ll get you back inside the carriers.  We’ll try a 30 minute shift to start with and then swap you over ok?’

 

The two Marines gave him a muffled “yes sir” and then got on the snow mobiles.  He gave a thumbs up to Lieutenant Taylor who was shutting up the back of the carrier unit and went back to his own cab.  Picking up the radio handset he pressed down on the transmit button.

 

“Ok Lieutenant Taylor you all set.  Do you have radio with your guys?”

 

“Yep thanks Dr Harper everything good to go – one small step for man and all that - see you on the other side.”

 

Despite his best instincts to turn around and drive back the way they’d come he put the track into gear and moved forwards. Two miles later the sat nav unit packed in.  He didn’t think it was a fixable fault. It was too much of a coincidence that it had stopped just as they were reaching where contact with the Rothera plane had been lost.  Something was obviously interrupting the GPS signal.  Lieutenant Taylor came on the radio again “Dr Harper can we stop here for a moment. I’m going to send in a report to Major Sanderson over in Rothera.  Digital comms is out, same as the GPS but long wave still appears to be working.  Anyway give me 5 minutes and I’ll see if our orders get changed.”

 

He spent the next 5 minutes hoping that the order would come for them to turn back as his brain screamed danger danger to him.  Nevertheless he’d been in the Army far too long to think they wouldn’t be continuing.  Sergeant Tucker obviously agreed with him as he spent the next 5 minutes telling him in his best Glaswegian that the chances of their orders changing ranged from nil to nil.  When the radio sprang back to life they were both proved correct.  Lieutenant Taylor informed them “So the report’s been sent off.  I also had a quick word with Major Sanderson.  We’re to proceed as previously ordered with ‘active caution’ being our watch word.  I’m going to swap the snow mobile drivers over and then we move forward on the same line as before – will your maps get us to Amundsen-Scott Dr Harper?’

 

He found himself saying “Yep maps plus the compass I brought with me will do the trick”.

 

The snow mobile drivers arrived back and were quickly switched over.  He moved the track onwards and told Sergeant Tucker about some of the landmarks to look out for – these landmarks were normally pretty subtle given the seemingly never ending white expanse they were passing through.  Nevertheless in this weather it was still possible to spot one or two changes in elevation and a couple of rock features.   They soon passed where he estimated contact with the plane had been lost and they encountered no further issues.  In fact 30 minutes later he was beginning to think that maybe his fears had been unfounded, that was until he spotted a column of black smoke rising from somewhere off to the left.  Lieutenant Taylor had spotted it as well.  The Lieutenant’s voice carried an inflection that reflected a degree of concern which he was obviously attempting to repress.  “Dr Harper lets head towards that smoke I want to have a look; I’ll send the snow mobiles on ahead.”  “Sergeant Tucker, Lance Corporal Anderson I think it might be time for the boys to lock and load.”

 

Joe looked at Sergeant Tucker who acknowledged his look as he used his handheld radio to let the men in the back of the carriers know that they needed to be on full alert.  He turned the track towards the black smoke.  20 minutes later he could see the black smoke was coming from a crashed plane lying burning on the ground.  It looked like the pilot had managed to get the plane down in one piece but that he’d clipped the ground with one of the wings, which had then broken and thrown the plane on to one side.  As they got closer he could see bodies on the ground. 

 

The radio crackled “Dr Harper park us up for a bit.  I’m going to take the guys and have a look”.  He didn’t like the look of this at all and almost countermanded Lieutenant Taylor before checking himself.  He wasn’t a Captain any more, this was Lieutenant Taylor’s command not his.  Sergeant Tucker got out of the cab.  “Back in a jiffy”.  Sergeant Tucker pulled his rifle out after him, checked it had a round in the chamber and went round the back to get his men out.  He watched as Jimmy and Corporal Brightwater pulled their tracks either side of him.   The Marines all got out, briefly conferred with Lieutenant Taylor and then took three different approaches towards the burning plane.  He watched Lieutenant Taylor take his men to the left, Sergeant Tucker straight ahead and Lance Corporal Anderson to the right.  Jimmy and Corporal Brightwater had been left with the tracks.  This made sense to him as if they needed to pull out quickly they’d need their drivers.  He watched as the three teams converged on the plane. Lieutenant Taylor reached the first of the bodies and turned it over.  Though he was 50 metres away he could see the guy was obviously dead – he’d seen that lifeless look before.  He wasn’t sure but it looked like the soldier’s throat had been cut by some shrapnel or something.   The other two teams joined Lieutenant Taylor and started checking the rest of the bodies.  He knew that even if they’d not been dead when they’d been thrown from or exited the plane they’d have been dead from the cold within about half an hour anyway if their snow suits weren’t on properly.

 

As he was watching the soldiers his eye was suddenly pulled towards a glint of light on the horizon.  In fact it was more like hundreds of glints of light.  Almost like a mass of people holding up small mirrors.  He’d seen some strange distortions of heat and air previously on Antarctica but he had a bad feeling about this.  He radioed Corporal Brightwater. “Corporal are you seeing those bright lights? I suggest you get on the handheld to let Lieutenant Taylor know - they won’t be able to see them with the plane in their line of sight”.   “Yes Sir right away”.  He saw the Marines stop what they were doing and move to one side of the plane to get a view towards the horizon.  They then formed up into three separate teams again.  Lieutenant Taylor pointing one team to move to the left of the plane one to the right and one to stay where they were.  Lieutenant Taylor took charge of the team to the left and he lost sight of him as the Lieutenant went round the side of the crashed plane.  Sergeant Tucker remained with his men behind the plane and Lance Corporal Anderson with his mop of ginger hair showing from under his helmet moved forward to the right.  The glimmers of light or whatever they were appeared to be getting closer and he spoke into the radio mic “Jimmy, Corporal Brightman it might be a good time to turn on the engines and get these tracks lined up for a quick getaway if we need to”.   He then moved his track so that it was facing slightly away from the plane and Jimmy formed up behind him with Corporal Brightman in front.  They still had a good view of the Marines who had now taken up precautionary defensive positions forwards and to the right of the plane.  Lance Corporal Anderson’s men had set up a 50 calibre machine gun on a tripod and pointed it towards the moving light.  As the lights grew closer he could see it wasn’t light as such but the reflection of light from hundreds of metallic objects that were moving rapidly towards them.   His heart jumped into his mouth and then without warning the large machine gun barked into life.  Despite his training he jumped out of his chair and banged his head on the ceiling of the cab.   The rest of Lance Corporal’s team started firing their weapons, joined moments later by Sergeant Tucker and his team who were 20 metres or so further back. 

 

The metallic objects didn’t seem at all phased by the gunfire and within moments they’d rushed over Lance Corporal Anderson’s team who simply disappeared under a mass of what now looked like thousands and thousands of silvery metallic crabs.  His mouth felt like sawdust and he felt like he was going to be sick - he’d had this feeling before - but that time had been in a cave in the Iraqi province of Anbar.  The mass of metallic creatures barely slowed their pace as they bowled over Lance Corporal Anderson and his team and then they were swarming up and around the plane to fall on Sergeant Tucker and his men like glitter falling from a homemade card.  Sergeant Tucker tried to run back to the tracks but disappeared in a flash of silver. The mass of robotic like creatures swept onwards towards Joe, Jimmy and Corporal Brightman.  He dimly registered Corporal Brightman starting to move his snow track forwards but he knew that however fast he drove it he wouldn’t be able to outrun the tide of metallic creatures who were now almost upon them.  Hundreds of creatures hit the front windscreen of his cab and the swarm went up and over like a wave of water.  Within a heartbeat the creatures had scored the glass and removed holes the size of a fist through which they started to drop.  The tiny creatures rushed up his legs and he desperately tried to shake them off but their speed and sheer numbers meant he was covered almost immediately.  He shut his eyes. He knew this was it and as he felt a prick on his exposed neck he felt a great sense of calmness rush through his body and he surrendered to the inevitableness of his fate.
 

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