Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [41]
The pool at the base of Wilkes Ice Station had become a slaughterhouse. From his alcove on C-deck, Shane Schofield looked down at it in horror.
Blood had so clouded the icy water that nearly half of the enormous pool was now no more than a maroon haze. Even the massive killer whales disappeared when they swam through the murky patches.
Schofield surveyed the scene.
On one side of the pool were the French. They had suffered the worst. They had already lost two men to the killers.
On the other side of the pool were the two remaining Marines – Rebound and Mother – and the three scientists from Wilkes who had been with Book when B-deck had given way. All five of them were swimming desperately for the metal deck that surrounded the pool.
It was into this that Schofield saw the tiny, pink-clad figure of Kirsty drop with an ugly splash. She landed back-first, and immediately went under. Her high-pitched scream had followed her all the way down.
Schofield snapped around to look over at Buck Riley, hanging from the down-turned B-deck railing.
Their eyes met for an instant. Book looked beaten, dejected, exhausted. His eyes said it all. He couldn’t do any more. He had done all he could.
Schofield hadn’t.
He pursed his lips, took in the situation.
Kirsty was on the far side of the pool, on the other side of the diving bell, out in the open. Everybody else was near the edges of the pool, trying to get out. In their own efforts to escape, none of them had seen her land in the pool.
As he looked down at the pool, Schofield could hear Montana’s voice on the intercom yelling at Snake and Santa Cruz in their gunless battle with the French soldiers still up on A-deck.
‘– Keep ’em moving round south –’
‘– Can’t use their guns either –’
Schofield spun around where he stood, looking for something he could use.
He was still in the alcove, alone. Moments earlier, he’d sent Gant down to the pool deck, while he’d intended to go over and help Book Riley. But before he’d even had a chance to get over there, the little girl had fallen. And now she was down in the pool.
Schofield saw the array of buttons on the console behind him, saw some words underneath a lever: DIVING BELL – WINCH.
No, that was no help.
But then he saw another, large, rectangular button, on which was written a single word: BRIDGE.
Schofield stared at the button for a moment, perplexed. And then he remembered. The retractable bridge. This must have been the control switch for the retractable bridge that Hensleigh had told him about earlier, the bridge that extended out from C-deck, out across the open space in the centre of the station.
Without even thinking, Schofield hit the long rectangular button and immediately he heard a loud, clanking noise from somewhere beneath his feet.
An engine somewhere within the wall next to him suddenly hummed to life and Schofield watched as a narrow, elongated platform began to extend out over the enormous empty space in the middle of the station.
On the far side of the shaft, Schofield saw another, identical, platform begin to extend out from underneath the catwalk. Presumably, the two platforms would meet in the middle and form one bridge spanning the width of the station.
Schofield didn’t miss a beat. He charged onto the bridge as it extended out over the centre of the station. It extended quite quickly, in a telescope-like motion, smaller extensions being born out of larger ones, and fast enough so that it stayed ahead of him as he ran. It wasn’t very wide, only about two feet, and it had no hand railing.
Schofield ran across the extending bridge as it grew forward in front of him. And then just as his platform was about to join with its twin from the other side, he took a deep breath, increased his speed, and leapt diagonally off the