Outpost

‘Looks like he took a nap,’ said Ghost, examining a sunbed. ‘More blood. Here and here.’ He took out his spray can and circled the drips. ‘He can’t give us the run-around much longer. Not in this cold.’

They tracked prints down a C deck corridor.

‘Boots,’ said Ghost. ‘Fresh.’

‘Sure it’s not us?’

‘We haven’t been down this way.’

The footprints led to an open doorway.

FUEL STORE

‘Put your safety catch on,’ instructed Ghost. ‘No shooting, all right? Don’t want to blow us all to hell.’

Ghost stood in the doorway.

‘Frank?’ he called. ‘Are you okay?’ No reply. ‘I’m coming in, Frank. Is that all right?’

Ghost shone his flashlight into the storeroom. Stacked oil drums. Jerry cans. Tins of kerosene.

‘Frank? You there?’

Ghost went inside. Jane followed.

Rawlins was kneeling in the corner shadows. Jane saw him first. He was soaked in kerosene, an empty fuel can by his side and an unlit cigarette between his lips.

‘Hey, Frank,’ said Jane. ‘How have you been?’

‘Fucked-up day.’ His fringe dripped like he just stepped from the shower.

‘Yeah. It’s been a bad year all round.’

Rawlins had taken off his coat. His arm and neck were bruised black and yellow. His empty eye socket wept blood.

‘So what do you say, Frank?’ asked Ghost. ‘How about we take you back to Medical for a while and look after you?’

Rawlins gave a woozy smile and shook his head. He gestured to his mutilated arm, his missing eye.

‘I don’t think Lemsip is going to help much, do you?’

‘Yeah, but I’d rather you didn’t light up. You have to show a little consideration for others.’

‘There’s no way home. We all know it, so why drag it out?’ He stroked the black flesh of his throat. ‘It wants things. This disease. It has an agenda.’ He reached into the pocket of his ragged trousers. ‘Sorry, folks.’ He flipped open his Zippo. ‘I’ve got to go while I’m still me.’ He closed his eyes and struck the lighter. Blue flame washed over him.

Jane and Ghost ran for the door. They slung the shotguns over their shoulders and snatched extinguishers from the wall.

Frank was dead and burning. They trained jets of carbon dioxide at the fire, but the flames spread between oil drums.

A propane tank blew. It ricocheted off three walls and burst a couple of jerry cans, triggering a massive fireball.

‘We’ve lost it,’ yelled Ghost. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

They ran for the door. Jane hit Close. The door dropped like a guillotine, blocking the tide of flame that threatened to flood the corridor and incinerate them.

Ghost touched the door but quickly snatched his hand away. Superhot metal.

‘Let it burn. It’ll drink all the oxygen soon enough.’

They jogged down the corridor.

‘You okay?’ asked Ghost.

‘Yeah. I’m fine.’

An explosion punched out the fuel store door like a fist. The heavy hatch cart-wheeled down the corridor towards them, propelled by fire.

They ran for the stairwell. Jane hammered the Close button with her fist. The blast door slid down as a juggernaut of flame rushed to meet them. Fire flickered round their boots as the hatch slammed shut.

Fire

Sian sat at Rawlins’s desk. The lights flickered. Slight tremor. A pot of pencils toppled from the desk and scattered on the floor.

Sian picked up the radio.

‘Guys? Ghost? Do you copy, over?’

The lights flickered again.

‘Guys, what’s going on?’

A sudden alarm. A red ceiling strobe began to flash. A woman’s super-calm voice:’… Emergency stations. Fire warning. Emergency stations. Fire warning..!

Sian checked the floor plan on the desk screen. The fuel store and adjacent corridor flashed red.

‘Folks, I’ve got multiple alerts in D Module. What’s going on?’

Punch ran down the corridor towards D Module. He fumbled for his radio.

‘… Emergency stations. Fire warning. Emergency stations. Fire warning.. ‘.

‘What’s the deal?’ he said, shouting to be heard over the emergency announcement.

‘Fire and monoxide alerts on C deck,’ said Sian. ‘ Lots of them.’

‘Is this is a system fault or an actual fire?’

‘I’m going up to the roof said Sian. ‘I’m going to check. ’

‘Close the blast doors. Drop any left open. Close them all.’

‘What about Ghost and Jane? ’

Ghost and Jane ran up the stairs. They reached the top just as a blast door closed, sealing them inside the D Module stairwell. Ghost jabbed Open. The hatch didn’t respond.

‘There must be an override,’ said Jane.

‘There is. A key. Punch has it.’

He took out his radio.

‘Sian? Sian, do you copy, over?’ No response. ‘Fucking stairway. It’s a refuge point. Thick walls.’

‘That’s good, right?’

Wisps of smoke from below. They leaned over the railing. The bottom of the stairwell was hazed with smoke. Ghost ripped open a fire locker. He ran down the stairs with an Ansul extinguisher. Jane followed.

‘These doors are supposed to hold back thousand-degree heat for twelve hours straight,’ coughed Jane.

‘It’s not the door, it’s the conduits. Electrical fires behind the bulkheads.’

Black smoke seeped from a wall-vent. Ghost discharged the extinguisher into the vent. The jet of carbon dioxide roared, sputtered and died.

‘Sian? Sian, can you hear me, over? Fuck.’