Arctic Series (Book 1): Arctic Cold Read online

  The armed man turns around and raises his hand at a small security booth. A loud click unlocks the gate, and it slowly opens. James rolls his window up and starts to drive on a bridge over the Mississippi River.

  Today, most of the land west of the Mississippi River is filled with Arctics, Skullniks, and other factions. To the east of the Mississippi, lies the new country of Serra. Serra City is the first, and the largest, of the five walled cities to be finished. Nestled in what used to be the west side of Kentucky, most of its borders consist of rivers. What doesn’t sit on a river, is guarded by walls.

  Even though the five walled cities make up Sector capitals, over seventy small cities and towns run throughout the rest of the country. Everything just north of Indianapolis, Indiana, east of Charlestown, West Virginia, and south of Jackson, Mississippi is outside of the borders of Serra and is considered dangerous. Slowly trying to make it to the ocean, Serra is pushing its borders, securing new cities, and clearing the land of Arctics.

  The first part of their journey is quiet. Ever since Serra was created, small teams would go out and remove damaged cars from the highways. The ones that looked useful were towed back to the city; others just pushed off the roads.

  The team takes HWY 60 all the way to just outside of Rogersville, Missouri. Once they see the highway start to pull away from next to the railroad track, they pull off. They drive down a short hill towards the tracks. Mud and wet grass from the melting snow make the trucks sink slightly. Lining the tracks on both sides are small shrubs and a couple of trees. The team pulls up next to the tracks, stop, and turn off their vehicles.

  James grabs a headset from the glove box and puts it on his head. He looks to Oliver and says, “Might as well put yours on. No need to have to raise our voices for any reason.”

  He steps out of the vehicle and waves over to the truck behind his. “We can piss now before we rail set these things,” James says as he walks to a patch of grass and starts to urinate.

  “Oliver, take lookout,” yells Henry as he opens the door to his truck. Oliver pops his head out from above the turret and taps his headset a couple of times. Henry reaches back into the truck, grabs his headset, and puts it on as he walks towards James.

  As the two men urinate on a small bush, they hear a little rustling nearby to their right. They shake themselves off and button up their pants. James pulls out his pistol and points it at the bushes. Henry takes a couple steps back and unholsters his pistol. Oliver turns the turret towards them and tries to see if he can see anything. He whispers into the headset, “I don’t see anything.”

  Slowly, James takes a couple of steps backward, until he can see Henry in the corner of his eye. He stops and quietly says, “Bound back” to Henry, who then takes a couple steps back.

  The bushes give another small rustle. James looks back to Oliver, who shakes his head to signal no sight on target. Suddenly, something appears from the bushes. Henry gives out a loud scream as he turns around and runs for the trucks.

  Startled and seeing what is walking out of the bushes, James starts to laugh hysterically. Walking slowly and sniffing the ground, is just a small little creature, all black with a long white stripe running along its back. The skunk looks up, sees James, and runs back into the bush. Oliver starts laughing at Henry after seeing the skunk squirm back into the bushes.

  Now back by the truck, Henry yells out, “Kill it.”

  James turns around and moves towards Henry. “You are such a pussy. It's only a skunk. Nothing scary about that.”

  “Man, if that thing sprays one of us I'm done. Ain't no one want to sit and smell that shit all the way anywhere.”

  Oliver slides out of the turret chair and hops out of the cab and says, “Man, we could have had a good dinner if we had the chance to kill it. Maybe if you weren't running and screaming, one of us could have shot it before it ran away.”

  James heads back to the truck and says, “Let's get this shit rail loaded. Henry, you take guard now. If anything comes our way, just scream like that again.”

  James hops in the first truck and drives it on the rails. He presses a button in the cab that slowly lowers the rail wheels. Oliver does the same with the second truck and they both step out of their trucks.

  “Nom Noms?” asks James.

  Henry and Oliver both nod their heads and say, “Nom Noms.”

  James heads back in the truck and pops his head out from the turret. “Toss me one and don't give me the damn scrambled eggs one either,” he says.

  Henry opens one of the cabinets in the back of the truck, grabs a meal, and tosses it out to James.

  With a wide grin, James says, “I'll sit up here and take watch. That way you two can sit in the grass and have a nice little picnic together.”

  Henry and Oliver look at each other for a second and look back at James. Henry replies, “Hey hooker face, don’t be mad cause you eating all alone up there while we eat together. That was your choice.”

  James, opening his MRE, throws his left fist up by his shoulder, and extends his middle finger.

  As Henry and Oliver make their way over to the grass, Henry says, “Man, it's way too wet and muddy for us to sit on the grass.”

  Oliver turns around and jogs back to the truck, “Hold on little lady. I’ll grab us a poncho to sit down on. Don’t want you messing up those lovely clothes now do we.”

  James’ laughter comes in over the headset, “Ha, burn.”

  Henry yells back to Oliver and into the headset, “Hey, if anyone is the lady in this relationship, it would be your midget ass.”

  Oliver walks over to the back of the first truck and pulls out a poncho from one of the compartments. As he rolls it out on the grass, he says, “Well, if the weather stays sunny and warm like this, the snow will all be done melting, and the ground should be dry on our way back.”

  Henry rubs out a couple wrinkles before sitting and eating. Through the headset, he asks James, “Hey, you gonna make your MRE cookie? If not, toss me down your sugar and creamer.”

  “Sorry, bro, no creamer in this one.”

  “Damn. I guess I’ll just wait til dinner then.”

  Once the men finish eating, they pack up their trash and put it away in a small trash bag in James' truck. While they are loading up, Oliver sees something on the tracks in the distance. On his headset, he calls the other two over to him. He shuffles through his right cargo pocket and pulls out a small pair of binoculars. “Arctic. Only one from what I can see,” he says.

  Henry leans on the driver door of the second truck, “Well, we can head out before it sees us.”

  Oliver pulls out the small ammo box from his pocket, pops it open, and says, “Wait, as long as it's just the one, we can test these out. I need to see how long it takes for them to bleed out.”

  James looks over at Oliver. “You could definitely be a serial killer talking like that. You really think you can make one of these things bleed out?”

  Oliver shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I think it will bleed.” He smiles at James and adds, “Hopefully enough to quench my love of blood.”

  James looks at the Arctic. “Fuck it, let’s try it out. Gotta get it close though since you only brought handgun rounds.”

  Oliver quickly cuts in, “We could only make handgun rounds at the moment because otherwise, the bullets deform when shot from a high powered rifle. You see, the velocity of the bullet causes pressure that will make it collapse in on itself in the air and thus becomes useless for its intended purpose.”

  Henry yells out, “Shut it, Dexter's Lab. Now give me those rounds. I'm calling dibs on this one.” He holds his hand out as Oliver drops a couple rounds into it. He takes the magazine out of his pistol and pulls back on the slide to release the round that is chambered. As the round ejects, Henry catches it in the air. Then, he slides the new one into the chamber and releases the slide forward. He inserts the round he just caught back into the magazine before putting the magazine back in.

  “Well
, let's get in position and get its attention,” says James.

  Oliver jumps up and slides into the turret. He digs in his pocket for a pen and grabs a small notepad from another. Oliver sets them on the top of the truck and watches the Arctic through his binoculars.

  James steps to the side of the tracks and aims the M4 he pulled out from the back seat of the truck. Henry scrambles to the middle of the tracks, right behind the second truck. As they get into position, they say, “Ready,” over their headsets.

  James looks through his sights, takes a breath, and sends one round through the barrel. BAM! The round flies through the air and hits the Arctic in its lower abdomen, knocking it back a step. It quickly turns, lets out a loud screech, and starts sprinting towards the men.

  Once human, Arctics are now mindless animals, infected with a mutated virus. In 2012, the virus was extracted out of the underground lake Vostok, two miles under the ice of Antarctica. Core samples of the lake were sent around the world to study. Two years later, an accident in a lab exposed a couple cores and the virus to the outside world.

  As the virus first spread, it was thought only to be a variation of the common cold. The biggest difference being, instead of someone's body temperature rising, it lowered. The virus quickly mutated in its host and turned into a plague. After anywhere from hours to a few days of being sick, the virus would send the host body's temperature into a free fall. On average, their internal body temperature would reach around -200 degrees Fahrenheit. The drop in temperature was so drastic, the infected would get severe frostbite all over their bodies. Their skin would turn dark purple and black all over. It thickened, turning into a sort of protective shell.

  On most of them, their hair, nose, and ears would freeze and fall off. Their fingertips cracked open, and the blood that seeped out froze into a pointed tip. Their eyes appear as white as ice but have a slight blue shine to them when hit with a flashlight. The clothes they were wearing freeze and partially embed into their skin. Their blood turns thick and colder than ice, yet the heart still pumps. When they start to bleed, they don't do so for long, as their blood freezes almost instantly when in contact with the air. People that are infected don't seem to try or even be able to infect others. Instead, they turn immensely violent and will kill just about anything that moves.

  By the time the Arctic takes its first few running steps, the bullet hole has already frozen over. It's about 300 meters away. Henry stands with his pistol pointing at it, just waiting for it to get closer.

  “Take the shot,” Oliver says.

  Henry waits and says, “Man, you know these things can't sprint for long by themselves. Not like the large groups. Once it tires out, I'll take the shot.”

  The Arctic starts to slow down around 90 meters away from Henry. It's amazingly quick sprint turns into a shuffling walk. It's about 50 meters from Henry now. BAM! Henry lets off one shot.

  The bullet rips into the Arctic, hitting it in the side of the neck. The Arctic barely takes notice of the bullet ripping through it as it continues to walk towards the men.

  Oliver stares for a second, and with excitement says, “Look! The hole isn't freezing shut. It's working.”

  Thick, bright red blood runs down from its neck and onto what used to be a video game t-shirt. From the blood, a mist develops into a thin fog, like that of the gas coming off of dry ice, falling to the ground. 30 meters away. After a few more steps, the Arctic's leg starts to turn white. As it tries to take another step, the leg snaps above the knee. The Arctic falls to the ground but still tries to push forward.

  As it stretches out, its arms start to crack. They break off just before the shoulder and fall to the ground. For several seconds, the Arctic tries to move around, unable to do anything but wiggle back and forth on the tracks. It slowly puts its head down to the ground and stops moving.

  Blood oozes out and forms a puddle around the body. The fog emitting from the blood thickens, making it difficult to see it. Crackling noises start to come from within the mist. As a soft wind blows the cloud away, parts of the Arctic can be seen breaking off of the body, hitting the ground like ice cubes. More and more, pieces break off, until all that is left, is a pile of frozen chunks.

  “What the hell was that?” asks James.

  Henry quickly responds, “Fucking awesome, that's what that was.” He lets out a loud “WOO”!

  Oliver stares at the Arctic for a moment and as he starts to write on his notepad, offers his opinion. “I think that since the blood stopped flowing and drained in certain parts, the skin and muscle tissue were able to finally freeze, almost instantly. The blood circulating keeps it from doing that. Like when a rushing river doesn't freeze in the winter. I need more data to make sure, but I think I am right.”

  “Goddammit Dexter's lab. Don't ruin this with your science shit. That thing froze up like that dude from Terminator Two.”

  Oliver slides down from his gunner seat and exits the vehicle. He walks to the first truck, opens the door, switches the CB radio on and starts to talk to someone.

  Henry turns to James with an extended fist and says, “Beast bro, beast.”

  James gives Henry a fist bump and says, “Yeah dude, beast.”

  James turns to the truck and says, “Ok now, let's get going. Keep those rounds for emergencies only. With only 29 left, we can't be all nimbly bimbly with them.”

  The men get in the trucks same as before. Oliver sets down the radio handset and turns the radio off. He looks over to James and says, “Your girlfriend says hi.” James smiles as they start to drive off. Pulling off, Henry looks into his left side mirror. In the distance, a few new Arctics are shuffling around.

  A few miles from hopping on the rails, the team makes it into Springfield, Missouri. What used to be a large city, now looks like the pictures people have seen of war-torn cities in World War 2. Like some of the towns during the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. Large holes from rockets and grenades make some of the buildings look like string cheese, while others have toppled to the ground.

  It could be worse for such a big city though. In many large cities, the military was pushed back by the infection. Once the military started to be overrun, that city would be bombed to try and contain the spread of disease. Springfield wasn’t hit hard, but it took its fair share of a beating since the military left before they could be overrun.

  That gives the team some luck with the train tracks still being intact. Most of the Midwest is like this. Since most of it consists of small towns, the large cities were abandoned after a while. Those who didn't stay and fight for their little community, tried their luck running to the walled cities or the Skullniks.

  After Springfield, the team kept its mission west. Slowly moving through the rest of Missouri, the team found their trip so far is much easier than expected.

  A few hours later, Oliver looks down at the map and says, “Looks like we are almost at our first rest stop, what you think it will take to get a room for the night?”

  James thinks for a second, “A beer says they want some sort of energy source. Panels or batteries.”

  Oliver smirks, “I'll take that bet. Cause they will want medicine.”

  James taps Oliver's headset and turns on the microphone. He tells Oliver, “Ask dick nuts back there what he thinks so I can get me another free round out of this.”

  Oliver hops on the radio to Henry, “Hey, beer bet, what item you think these people will want in exchange for a room?”

  There is a small pause. “Porn. These hicks are just sitting here alone with nothing but themselves. They want porn or something to entertain themselves.”

  James laughs a little bit as he looks at Oliver and says, “Well, we are just about there.”

  As the two trucks pull towards the small town, they slow down. They come to a stop just before a gate that is covering the tracks. The gate is just a few pieces of sheet metal with a frame of wood. James pulls his ID out from his wallet. “Hands up,” says James.

  As the tea
m sits with their hands in the air, a small group approach them from both sides. Three people with weapons slowly walk to the left side of the vehicles, three to the right. James' door opens, and a small caliber rifle points at his head.

  “Who are you?” asks the man behind the rifle.

  James turns his head towards him and says, “My name is James, this is Oliver, and the man in the truck behind me is Henry. We are coming from Serra City and would just like a place to stay for the night. We are willing to pay for your hospitality.” James slowly hands his ID to the man.

  The man grabs it, inspects it, and gives it back. He lowers his weapon and yells out, “Open the gates. They's good.” The gates open and the team slowly drives into the small town of Odessa.

  Odessa is a small town that sits only three or four blocks long and about three wide. The locals do pretty well for themselves even with their small numbers. They grow crops for food, fuel, and alcohol. With the amount of livestock they keep, they could eat and have milk for years. They use the droppings of the livestock as fertilizer and as makeshift bombs for defense. Any time they ever run low on something they can't create in their area, they barter with other small towns. Charging people to use the railroad that runs through them is pretty helpful as well.

  As the trucks pull in, part of the small group walks in behind them, following the man with the rifle. The team stops just after entering the gate, step out, and greet the man with the rifle.

  He is wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. He isn't very tall, standing a few inches above Oliver. He is a little on the heavy side and walks with a slight limp in his right leg. He slings his rifle over his shoulder as he extends a hand to the group and says, “Hey Y'all, names Peter. Lookin for a night's I see.”

  James shakes the man's hand. “Yes. Again, I am James, these are my teammates, Oliver and Henry. What's the cost for a night in your lovely town?”

  Peter gives a slight smile. “Y'all gots sum of dem solar radio chargers? Electricity been wonky so charging dem been a pain in the ass.”

  “Yes, we do. In fact, I will give you three, one for housing each of us. Also, if we can take a look at your generator and fix your power, you mind sharing a couple bottles of that corn whiskey you make? These guys owe me a drink now anyways.”