Below Zero

19 OUTPOST ZERO, ANTARCTICA ^{22 HOURS AGO}

Sofia was afraid, confused and curious all at once. There was a strange device stuck to the back of each person’s neck – right in the centre, along the ridge of their spine. Mama, Papa, Pablo and all the other people she’d been living with for the past two months had one. People she was starting to think of as family. Even the BioMesa guys – including Jennings, whose access card Sofia had used to sneak into the research cavern.

She wiped sweat from her brow and leant closer to inspect the thing attached to Papa’s neck. It was mechanical, but it looked alive. Like a small, fat spider with six spindly legs. There was a tiny trickle of dried blood where each leg had broken the skin, and as Sofia watched, the thing’s legs shifted with the tiniest movements. Something grey and fleshy glistened in its intricate joints.

Sofia picked up the rock collection tool and gripped it tight. With the other hand, she reached out towards the spider thing. ‘You think it’ll come off?’

‘Careful.’

She touched the thing with the tip of one gloved finger, withdrawing in a flash. The thing remained where it was.

Sofia removed her glove and touched it again. When it didn’t react, she gripped it between her forefinger and thumb. ‘It’s warm,’ she said. ‘Feels like… I’m not sure… metal?’

‘Not metal.’ Peters kept his distance. ‘Composite. Like the carbon composite the Spiders use for printing.’

‘That grey stuff, though… it’s like brain or something. It’s disgusting.’

‘It looks organic,’ Peters said. ‘Alive. Like living flesh.’

‘Wait a minute.’ Sofia leant closer. ‘That bug I told you about?’ (There it was again – the feeling this had something to do with what she had stolen from the cavern.) ‘The one that came out of the ice core I took?’ She tried to ignore the rising guilty feeling. ‘Doc Blair cut one open, and its insides looked like this grey stuff.’

‘What are you saying? That this is from an insect?’

‘I dunno. I’m going to see if it comes off.’

‘What if it hurts him?’

‘We have to do something.’ Sofia could see how afraid Peters was – probably more afraid than she was. His face was covered with a sheen of sweat, his lips were trembling, and his breathing was heavy.

‘I’m going to do it now,’ Sofia said.

Peters nodded.

‘OK.’ She tugged gently on the strange parasite.

The skin on the nape of Papa’s neck stretched back, as if the thing was going to come off with a wet pop, but its tiny joints flexed and the grey stuff flexed with them like muscle. The thing tensed its legs and gripped tighter, sharp feet digging deeper into Papa’s flesh as it clung on.

Sofia let go immediately and stepped back. ‘Did you see that?’

‘It held on,’ Peters said.

‘Yeah. And did you see that needle or whatever it was?’

‘No?’

‘There’s something coming out of its belly, and it’s stuck into Papa’s neck. Like a mosquito’s needle.’ Sofia shivered. ‘Whatever it is, I reckon it’s making everyone like… this. Could someone be doing it? Deliberately, I mean? Could someone be making these things and doing this?’

‘You mean some kind of mind control?’

‘I dunno. Maybe.’

‘No.’ Peters shook his head. ‘That’s impossible.’

Sofia moved to stand in front of Papa and look into his face. ‘We’ll find out what’s going on,’ she said to him. ‘I promise. I’ll get that thing off your neck and—’

Sofia stepped back and put a hand over her mouth.

‘What is it?’

‘There’s something…’ Her skin flushed red hot, bile rose in her throat, and cold washed over her. Every inch of her flesh tightened into goosebumps. In a second her blood went from boiling to freezing, and her insides contracted as if they were shrinking.

‘What is it?’ Peters said again as he came to her side.

Sofia couldn’t take her eyes off the grey… thing… curled into Papa’s right nostril. It was exactly the same colour and consistency as the sinews on the bug attached to his neck. Grey and glistening and translucent. Sofia had thought it looked like brain tissue but now, in her horror, something else came to mind. An image of shooting cans with her Black Widow catapult while Mama and Papa prepared food on the barbecue. The smell of charcoal burning, of sausages cooking. And lying on a plate beside the barbecue was a plate of raw prawns.

That’s what it looked like. The thing inside Dad’s nose – like the thing Doc Blair had cut from the black armoured bug – had the colour and consistency of an uncooked prawn.

The idea of it was ridiculous – raw prawns? That’s madness. But Sofia couldn’t shake the image. It tore her between terror and hysteria.

And then the thing moved. With one slick, fluid motion, it slid upwards, moving out of sight. Sofia was flooded with a crashing wave of nausea that broke the moment Papa opened his eyes.

His body loosened, his shoulders relaxed, and he stared right at his daughter.

Sofia recognized the panic that was building in her. She had seen cavers experience an overload of emotions when they thought they were stuck underground. She had seen them lose control of their thoughts and feelings, even their breathing, as their panic rose. So she fought it hard. She would not panic. She fixed her eyes on Papa’s and forced herself to be calm.

Papa frowned. ‘Join us.’

‘Oh God.’ Peters jumped back, almost dropping the camera.

The other people in Storage opened their eyes, all of them turning to face Sofia and Peters. They stood relaxed and did something that made Sofia’s scalp tingle.

They smiled.

And then spoke again.

‘Join us.’

‘Papa?’

‘Join us.’

They began to move. All thirty-eight of them shuffled forwards one step as if they had forgotten how to walk. They were hesitant, unstable, but the second step was more confident.

‘Join us.’

Sofia backed away, but the people took another step. And as they did so, Papa raised his hands. When his arms were level with the ground, something slipped out from the narrow gap between his cuff and his glove. A black bug, a beetle-scorpion-earwig thing, about the size of her thumb. It scuttled towards Papa’s elbow and circled round under his arm before another appeared. And another. And another.

‘Join us,’ Papa said to his daughter. ‘Join us.’

Sofia retreated further as the people crowded around her, their fingers grasping at her coat, their muscles becoming stronger, their will becoming more determined.

Insects began to scramble out from the neckline of Papa’s jacket. They scuttled to his shoulder, spread their wings, and took to the air.

‘Go!’ Sofia shouted at Peters. ‘Get out!’

They turned and headed for the door.

Behind them, the settlers followed.

The door swished open as soon as Sofia hit the button. Ice and powdery snow blasted them like shrapnel, swirling into Storage. The crowd of zombies steadied themselves against the brute force of the weather, but showed no sign it bothered them. They continued to shamble forwards, reaching out to grasp Sofia and Peters, who had hesitated in the face of the storm.

‘Get out!’ Sofia shouted. ‘Out!’ She put both hands in the centre of Peters’ back and shoved him hard into the blizzard.

She rushed out behind him, slamming her fist on the button, closing the door. As it swished shut, Sofia heard the awkward buzz and clatter of insects.

She stumbled down the steps, no idea if the settlers would continue to follow, but she had no intention of waiting to find out. ‘Keep going!’ she told Peters. ‘Head for the guide rope.’

Neither of them dared look back, but they both felt the anticipation of what might come – of the door sliding open again, of the people shambling out into the blizzard.

But the door didn’t open. The people didn’t follow.

Something far worse awaited them in the storm.