The Last Hunter - Descent - Jeremy Robinson [29]
There’s no turning back, I decide, and continue forward.
A clang rings out as I run into something solid. I hold my head with one hand and reach out with the other. It’s a metal wall covered with snow. If I hadn’t run into it, I would have never seen it. I follow the wall and find the door latched shut, but not locked.
I fumble around in the dark, looking for the generator. What I’ll do when I find it, I have no idea. I’m sure I can figure it out, but blindness will make the task more difficult. As I graze my hand across the wall, it strikes a hard, plastic, cylindrical object. My mind flashes with recognition as it falls to the floor. I bend down, searching for the flashlight. It’s at my feet, and happily, still works.
The beam is dim, but it’s enough to light the generator. Two things strike me right away. It’s unplugged from the circuit board that distributes the power to all the buildings at Clark Station Two. And the power is switched to “off.”
This was no accident caused by the storm.
The red haired man. He’s still here. He drew me out.
With my heart hammering, I focus on the task at hand. I go to work on the circuit breakers, turning them all off. The plug goes in next. Then I turn to the generator. It’s been running a while so it’s probably already primed. I switch it to “on” and give the cord a solid yank. The engine roars to life, healthy and strong. Then I’m back at the circuit breakers. The main goes on first, then one switch at a time, slowly restoring power to the system.
The last switch belongs to the generator shed itself. When I flip the switch the interior lights up so bright that I squint. With my eyes half closed, I barely make out the figure leaping out from behind the generator. He’s definitely naked, or close to it. His hair is red. His eyes, like mine, are squinted tight as if the light hurts, but he seems to have no trouble moving because he hits me a second later.
The snow outside breaks my fall, but once again I have trouble catching my breath. I expect him to press the attack, but he vanishes into the storm again.
Or has he? I sense something to my side and look for it. All I see is a wall of snow. But there’s a voice hidden in there. “We’ve been waiting a long time for you.”
For some reason, I don’t doubt or question what he says. “Who are you?”
“I’m who you will become.”
A blow to the side of my head sends me sprawling. I think about the pain and how much it must have hurt Aimee when I hit her. I roll over and try to sit up, but I’m pinned. I can’t see him, but I know the man is straddling my waist. His face resolves from the snow. His skin is white, whiter than mine if that’s possible, and opaque. Blue veins pulse just beneath the surface. His eyes are wide now, and dark. Nearly black. His smile reveals shattered and rotting teeth. I can’t see his body. It’s blocked by snow and the unnatural blood red dreadlocks dangling from his head.
When he speaks I smell his breath, like rotten ground beef. But the smell doesn’t bother me nearly as much as his words, “Time to go home.”
The pain from the first blow to my head quadruples with the second. I’m dazed now, nearly unconscious. I feel pressure around my ankles and a scraping on my back. He’s dragging me. After a few moments, the sky above me begins to clear. The storm is easing. For a moment I can sees the stars overhead. But then the reality of my situation sets in—I’m being taken—and the night sky is blurred by my tears.
I hear my name being called in the distance. My father’s voice. Then my mother’s. Dr. Clark’s. Mira’s. They’re looking for me.
“Here,” I mumble.
Then the silhouette of my captor blots out the sky. I hear my name one more time, the voice as desperate as I feel. I open my mouth and fill my lungs to respond, but I never get the chance. I don’t feel the blow. I’m unconscious before the pain registers.
I awake—who knows how much later—and find myself underground.
Covered