At heart, Meg Barker didn't like Mort Central because of other people. Mort's streets were too busy, too claustrophobic for her to feel comfortable. When you overcrowd by a few extra million, you might as well put guarded walls around the outside and call it an asylum. In her opinion, that's sort of what Slayer did. A caged city full of loonies, surrounded by monsters.
Her father was with the SLA Expeditionary Service and had been assigned to the northern polar cap of Mort, far away from the city bustle. When he asked her if she'd like to come along for his one year tour, she thought it sounded like a great adventure. She would be someplace that few normal people had ever seen and it excited her. After all, who did she know besides her father that had actually seen SNOW? Unfortunately the reality of the situation didn't have the same adventure she had hoped for. Who would have thought that any place could be so boring and so damn cold?
Sequestered on a slow moving ice flow, surrounded by hundreds of miles of barren, frozen wasteland was Geological Monitoring Station Bravo-Echo-Niner. When she first arrived, her father called it home but even as a sixteen-year-old she felt it was more like being in exile. After a month of howling wind and subzero temperatures, she started to call it Hell. That old challenge of "When Hell freezes Over" seemed to loose its humor up here even with three hundred channels of sarcastic comedy TV.
She huddled over a space heater and rubbed her hands together. Packed in three layers of thermal clothing and a "light" white parka, she got as close to the unit as she could without singing the Gore-Tex. Twelve hours ago, the generator and its backup went down and took the communications and the facility heating offline. Now this tiny space heater was all they could spare to keep her warm. God, how she hated the place.
The room she had been given had the luxury of a small window, which she figured was the concession of being one of the two females at the site. Now it too was frosted over with ice thick enough to be bullet proof. Somewhere beyond it, the wind moaned and howled like a hungry ghost.
Why exactly had she decided to come up here to live with her father? Oh yeah, he was going to pay her way through college and get her into Karma. Her mother had looked at her with dead eyes when she told her about the move. Both of them knew that it was Meg's choice and her mother had warned her. She hadn't spoken to her in eight months, since just before she was packed up to go on "Meg's Big Adventure". How she longed for the smell of her Mom's spice kitchen back in New Paris.
Suddenly the light popped and cracked, then came on overhead. A moment later the ventilation system came on and air began to flow again. Thank God, they had the generator back online again.
There was a loud knock at the door, even though it was open and she turned to see Cog in the doorway. The 313 was one of her two friends up here and spent more time around her than anyone else including her father. Cog was bundled in a heavy laced parka and had bands of frost on his eyebrows and respirator. He had to wear the extra facial gear since some genius didn't design him with the ability to close his mouth. He was such a dear, pitiful creature that Slayer had to be some sort of asshole power freak to make something like him. She looked around carefully to make sure she didn't say that aloud. If anyone heard her opinions on old Badger face, it could ruin her Dad's career.
"The power's back on now and we should have normal temperatures soon. I brought you more fuel for the heater." His voice was slightly muffled by the mask and it resembled an oversized muzzle.
He was so gentle, and at times so clumsy that he immediately endeared himself to her like a puppy. He and Shimmer seemed to be the only ones who had time for her and watched over he like a little sister. With fifty humans in such a small area, it was amazing that she seldom had any human contact.
"Thanks, you're a sweetie" she said and got out of his way as he set the tank down and started operating the manual pump. How something built from the genetic level up to be a combat machine could be so gentle amazed her. She remembered how he had broken into tears when she gave him a birthday card for his incept date. He even said he "ruvved" her and had her crying too.
As he was finishing, the intercom beeped and went live with Watch Officer Tyler's voice.
"Cog, we need you at airlock three. Get suited up. We've got a failed perimeter sensor we need checked."
The stormer stopped the pump and stood to press the red talk button. Meg thought that sometimes the stormer was exasperated with the stream of subhuman jobs that got heaped onto him.
"On my way, Mr. Tyler."
"Why do they always send you out there? Can't someone else go?"
He nodded as he finished the pump and picked up the partially emptied tank.
"Someone else could go, but I know it will be done right if I do it. I don't mind it."
There was a hint of reservation in his voice that made Meg doubt him. She let him go without another word and thought about how they treated him. This time she spoke aloud, damn the repercussions.
"Slayer's an asshole, no matter how you look at it."
The room seemed colder now and the wind had stopped howling, but it was probably her imagination. She pulled on her overmits and quickly left the room, heading for the central area.
It doesn't feel safe to be alone when you just blasphemed your God.
When Meg was eleven, her Father took her to a Doctor to talk about her problems. The man said that she had mild antisocial tendencies and had problems relating to others, but refused to elaborate in front of her. It wasn't until later that she figured out he was a shrink and that he was calling her nuts. In the Doctor's book, antisocial equated to "needs medication/needs treatment" but her parents didn't completely buy it. Meg knew there was nothing wrong with her and that the Doctor was just trying to rip her parents off. She should have let it happen for all the good it would do. The two of them split up two years later and had been fighting over her ever since. She remembered the last session where she asked Doctor Ross if he thought she was fucked in the head because of her Dad was a neurotic asshole and her Mom was a nympho-slut. She never saw him again and it wasn't a loss. Psychoanalyze this asshole, she thought and gave his memory a gesture.
In the central area, she swapped out for a heavier parka and spotted overwhites and heavy mits. Snagging a respirator, she fit over the front of her face and checked it. Yep, everything in place. As long as no one saw her, she'd get away with this.
Cog was suited up and double-checking one of the heavy utility Snowmobiles and ready to go. She grinned and walked up to him, deliberately getting in his way as he came around the side of the skids.
"Excuse me - oh hi Meg. What are you doing here?" He asked.
"I'm going with you. Tyler ok'd it so there isn't a problem." She said. As long as no one saw her leave, there wouldn't be a problem. This worked occasionally and it was her only way of seeing the outside world.
"Ok, if he said it was alright. You wearing thermals?" he asked. He always went into parent mode when she went out with him. Funny that a Stormer was a better parent than her old man ever was. She nodded as the Stormer started the machine and climbed on behind him.
"Com check" he said and she heard it through the inside of the earpiece of her respirator. Instead of sounding muffled, his voice seemed to echo. Probably because the mike was inside his muzzle instead of outside this time.
"Got it. I'm ready," she said as she pulled her goggles in place. With that, the heavy door squealed open and the snowmobile lunged forward into the white. Even with the goggles, the reflection was still like looking into the sun. The thermals kept the cold out and she felt excited and comfortable as she planted her feet on the pegs and held on.
Outside away from the facility, you tell that you were about two miles from BFE and a million miles from "Anywhere". Out here there was no claustrophobia, no rules and she grinned, feeling free. This is the way it should always be, free and having fun with friends.
Within twenty minutes, the reached the perimeter sensors and Cog dismounted, leaving the snowmobile running. She bounded off behind him and fell into a waist-deep drift. He laughed and pulled her out without effort. Meg was amazed how strong they were and followed, carefully placing her feet into his large tracks. She was glad that he was on her side.
Ahead there was something black in the air and she strained to look past him without losing the path. It looked like smoke, but she couldn't be sure. The perimeter sensors were here to monitor both ground and air as part of SLA's polar defense. She couldn't imagine why they needed one, but what did she know? With guys like Sour Blood on their side who did they possibly have to fear?
When Cog stopped and pulled a pistol, chills began to build along her spine.
"What is it? What's wr-"
"Shh" he said, cutting her off. She shut her mouth and looked around, but there wasn't anything in site.
Ahead of them the sensor array was smoking and burning, its gray metal casing busted apart. It looked like an eggshell that someone had stomped on. What could do that? There wasn't any animal life in the area and she had never seen something blown apart like this except on TV.
Cog moved up to the edge of the array and looked around briefly, but she had no idea for what. Whatever had done this was long gone.
She heard a low growling sound from somewhere in the distance and turned in place to look for the source. A snowmobile came over a nearby hill and down towards them. As it got closer, she saw that the rider wasn't wearing a parka or hood. It was Shimmer and his snow-caked fur was pushed back by the incoming wind. He crossed the more stable portion of the ice flow and pulled up behind them.
All the Wraiths that Meg had ever seen on TV always had short fur, but Shimmer was different. His coat had grown dense and heavy, taking on a lighter color. He said with pride that it was just his body adapting to its natural environment. She remembered the irritated look on his face when she said he looked like a Teddy bear. He didn't talk for her for two days after that and she still grinned when she thought about it.
Shimmer stepped of the snowmobile and bounded across the snow to squat in front of Cog. He studied the ground for a moment then lifted his snout to sniff the wind.
"What do you think happened?" Meg asked.
Cog hesitated then put his pistol away and kicked a piece of burning metal away. He had a tone of menace in his voice.
"Terrorists, but they're gone now."
He had to be kidding! Darknight up here in the middle of nowhere? There was no way…
"Not gone yet", the Wraith added with a smile. He waved for the two of them to get down and Cog pulled Meg in behind the ruined array. Peering over the top of the metal into the bleak white, she couldn't see anything.
"Where? I don't see anythi-" she started, but the Wraith was already speeding across the snow in a low crouch. Cog pushed her down again by the top of her head and she shook his hand off angrily. They both treated her like a kid and it really pissed her off sometimes.
The Wraith weaved across the ice, hugging the small drifts and keeping a profile lower than Meg could crouch. With his fur coated with white, he looked almost like blowing snow. She had never seen anything like it and watched with fascination. Finding a slightly taller drift, the Wraith rolled over on his back and broke a rifle out of its wrap. Snapping it in place like a kid putting together a toy, he rolled back over and crawled into the side of the drift. What was he doing?
Suddenly, Cog scooped Meg up and lunged into a drift. There was a hiss then a BOOM and she cowered, covering her ears. The stormer set her aside and pulled his pistol again, looking around. The array was in flames with pieces thrown everywhere. What had happened?
"You ok, Meg?" he asked and she gave him a thumbs up.
"Where did that come from?" his voice said into the mike.
"Twenty-five <static> ters to the North West. We've got hostiles. <static> engaging. Hold for two shots then <static> evac." The Wraith's voice was clipped and each syllable was stressed, and she hoped it was excitement and not fear. There was a coldness to it that sent further chills up her spine. Was this for real?
"Copy that." the Stormer responded.
For a few moments, the only sound was the moaning wind and the whisper of the blowing snow. Then she heard it - a pair of loud cracks, like the sound of ice breaking. Then the Wraith began to move, low and hugging the ground and vanished into the white.
"We're leaving. C'mon" Cog said as he pulled Meg to her feet like a rag doll. She had never seen him act like this and he was half-carrying her to the snowmobile.
"What about Shimmer? We gotta help him!" She protested and tried to turn. Cog paid no attention and was now in a low run with her in tow. He pulled her onto the snowmobile with him and tore off back towards the facility.
"DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT HIM? HE'S GOING TO DIE OUT HERE AND YOU JUST LEFT HIM!" she screamed and pounded her fists into his back. "HE'S YOUR FRIEND YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
The Stormer didn't speak or react to her until they were inside the airlock to B-E-9. Cog stepped off and looked her in the eyes. She was torn between breaking into tears and being hopping mad. Right now she was shaking from a combination of the two and she wanted to punch something. Cog's voice was parental again, like he was explaining something to a small child.
"It's his world out there, whoever was shooting at us was dead when he caught their scent. He lives to hunt and it's been a whole year. You need to be considerate of -"
"CONSIDERATE? We LEFT him out there to die!", she cut in. " DON'T YOU HAVE ANY PITY?" she screamed. Her voice had that little girl screech when she got this upset, but she couldn't do anything to stop it.
"I pity his prey." he said and tried to pat her on the shoulder but she brushed past him.
"If you won't do something - I WILL!" she said and stormed off towards the Command booth. She was not going to let her friend die out there in the waste. If he didn’t get in soon he'd freeze. He wasn't even wearing a parka!
She hopped up the vinyl-ribbed stairs and stomped her way into the Command Center. Meg tried to tear off her respirator, but only half succeeded and couldn't see as it fogged up. By the time she managed to pull it, the balaclava, and the hood off, everyone was staring at her. Watch Officer Tyler had a bemused smirk on his face.
"Is there something I can do for you Ms. Barker?" he asked, still grinning. He had hazel eyes, short dark hair, and Sour-Blood-like looks. Meg thought of him as "El Numero uno hunk-meister" up here, but he thought of her as a stupid kid. She was only six or so years his junior.
"Yes. I was outside and someone attacked me."
Tyler's face took on a serious look, but the eyes were laughing.
"Did Mr. Wind knock over your snowman again?" He asked, laughing. Several of the techs turned back to their work grinning or snickering. She felt her face burn red. She was NOT a kid…
"Someone blew up the #17 Sensor array and shot at me. Ask Cog! He was there!" She exclaimed, becoming more animated. Something on his face changed and the eyes became more serious. "Uh-oh," she thought "I just got Cog into more shit. Think fast girl…"
"Shimmer saw it too and is out there alone after them!" She blurted, then clamped her hands over her mouth. Her face blushed further when she realized that everyone was looking at her. Great, now she had managed to land both her friends neck deep in kaka. Tyler turned to the intercom and punched the red talk button.
"Cog to Operations. Now" he said and turned back to her. "So the 313 took you out on another joy ride?" Meg heard the sound of the Stormer's feet coming up the stairs and saw Tyler's eyes shift. "I'll deal with you later, young lady" he said as he pushed past her.
"What in Hell do think you were doing, you piece of vat-grown shit?" He yelled at Cog. The big guy's head lowered and he looked at his feet. "Taking a civilian out of the facility, then risking her life joyriding in a hostile area? What were you thinking?"
Tyler pulled in air, looked at his feet, then back up at the 313. "It's not possible to give you crappier jobs than you already have or to demote you any further than you already have been. You have got to be the most pathetic piece of second-string shit that Karma ever dumped on us! What do you have to say for yourself?"
Meg could see the Stormer shaking as he started to speak. His voice sounded child-like and small.
"Remote Sensor Array #17c is offline due to action of hostiles on edge of the North West perimeter. They fired upon us with a SSM and Shimmer is currently running a sweep and clear."
Tyler shook his head then spat his words.
"And you didn't think it was important enough to radio us to let us know?"
"We were being jammed, sir." The Stormer responded, raising his eyes to look at the human.
Tyler cursed under his breath and turned away towards the rest of the staff. He looked at Meg and glared.
"You're confined to your quarters until further notice Barker" he snapped. He had no right to talk to Cog that way and she was going to give him a piece of her mind.
"You can't order me around! I'm not one of your-" she began
"If your Father finds out that you've been gallivanting around again, he'll put your butt in a sling. Get to your quarters NOW!"
He had her and she lowered her head as she sped past him. Not only did she get her friends in trouble, she was being sent to her room like a little kid. She was so embarrassed that she wanted to die. Tears began to cloud her vision and she wiped at them absently. The coating of frost on her overmits stung like glass and she stifled a whimper. The crying was about to start in earnest and she broke into a run for her room before it took over.
Sometimes she hated being a girl.
The damn holiday music that had been piped across the intercom for the past day and a half wasn't helping stop the frustration. When it finally cut out, she noticed the peace more than the absence of "Happiness is Coming to Town". A moment later, the lights flickered and the facility's power was out again, just in time for her to need warm water to wash her face. She cursed mildly and fumbled for the handtorch, bouncing the light off the ceiling. Even in the dim light, the mirror showed that her eyes were red and puffy. Damn it, that jerk made her lose it in front of everybody. Meg wondered why he always treated her like a kid and tried to humiliate her.She blew her nose and began to bundle up again. It was going to get cold in here again and just in time for nightfall. Where in hell had her right overmit gone to? She looked around knelt next to the bed and looked under.
Couldn't Tyler's technicians fix anything right? Apparently not. Jerks.
Somehow the mitten had managed to fall behind the bed on the side next to the wall, so she flopped onto it and lay across. Resting her head on her Sour Blood doobrie (now there's a real man, she thought), she groped for the glove. Her fingertips probed the bedcover fabric, touched the cold surface of the wall, but no glove. Meg pursed her lips, repositioned and reached down again. It had to be here somewhere…
"OUCH FUCK!" she screamed and pulled her hand back. The index finger on her left hand was bleeding from a long cut. She winced as she clenched it, then reached for a tissue. How did she manage that? Crimson welled up and around her fingers and she felt tears well up in her eyes. She hopped up and headed out of the room leaving a tiny trail of red drops behind her. All of the main corridors had first aid kits and she went out to find the nearest one. "Ouch ouch ouch", she mumbled as she unsnapped the white case from the wall. If she got tetanus from the damn mattress, her Mom was going to be pissed.
She popped the cap on the can of antiseptic and pumped it onto her hand. It stung and the moisture of the spray chilled her hand, making her dance in place. She found a long one and tried to open it with one hand. When that didn't work, she used her teeth to try to tear the paper.
"Why don't they design these better?" she thought aloud. If you need to put a bandage on one hand, why do you need two hands to do it? She fought in silence and finally the paper came off. Red droplets and smears coated the inside of the case and she felt a little woozy, but managed to hold the bandage around the slash. Only needed one or two more and the bleeding would stop. Meg hoped that she got an infection; that way she could go back to live with Mom in New Paris.
She heard something moving in her bedroom, but didn't remember turning the doobrie on. Meg was allowed to only take one doobrie along with her when she moved here, and Sour Blood was the obvious choice. Standing about six inches tall, he had been more than enough to intimidate all the others in her collection with the exception of the H-jack one. Now there was a doobrie that scared her.
She heard a "Sour Blood Ball Breaker!-urk" followed by a ker-plop and looked back curiously. She didn't know that "urk" was in its vocabulary, but maybe he fell off the bed. "In a minute" she said and finished wrapping her finger and quickly wiped down the case.
If he got broken, there was no way her Dad would let her get another one. He hated the things so much and called them stupid kiddie toys.Meg went back into her room but didn't see the doobrie anywhere. The bed was still pulled out, so she decided to go for her mitten first. Grabbing the flashlight, she shined it down and found the mitt easily. It was more towards the center of the bed so she pulled it out and put it on. There wasn't anything that could have cut her hand, but she would look later when she wasn't as cold. The temperature had already begun to drop in here and she could see her breath. Now where was that doobrie?
"Ready to Rumble!" she said, looking for him. That was his activation phrase and the doobrie should answer promptly, but didn't. She felt more irritation than concern.
"Ready to Rumble!" she said again and moved around looking for him. Maybe he had fallen under the bed also. She swept the beam under the springs, but didn't see anything. Ok, this was just plain weird. Where had he run to? She searched under the covers and in the trashcan without luck. He also wasn't in the doll cabinet where she had found him that one time. He seemed to have a thing for the tall blonde one in the leather dress.
"READY TO RUMBLE!" she said with more worry.
She heard a faint sound from somewhere nearby and swept the light around. Tiny legs kicked, dangling out of one of the dresser drawers. How had he got in there? When she opened the drawer to pull him out, she dropped him in shock. His head was twisted backwards and he had a plastic bag stretched over his head. His hands were wrapped with a rubber band behind his back and twitched in vain.
"My God!" she said as she furiously unwrapped him. Carefully, she turned his head around, watching his face contort with mock pain and removed the rubber bands. The doobrie flexed his shoulders, popped its neck, and grinned a miniature smile.
"Give it Up to the King Baby!" he said with a wink.
"Lights Out" she said to deactivate him and hugged him to her chest. Who would do this to a doll? A sudden chill swept over her and she tugged on her mittens. Afterwards, she tucked him into her bed and rested him on her pillow.
Her thoughts went back to Shimmer. To hell with Tyler's orders, she wanted to find out what happened to him. If anyone asked why she was out of her room, she'd make up something like she needed more fuel for the heater or was after hot chocolate.
The cold that was in her bones wasn’t entirely from the weather.
Meg stopped herself from running, and walked carefully away from her room. She decided to go into the cafeteria area for the hot chocolate and maybe ask about her friends. There were a few people milling around and she blinded a few of them with her flashlight before thinking about it. One of them was Watch Officer Tyler.
"Megan, what are you doing here? You were confined to quarters."
"I know, but I wanted to get some hot chocolate."
"With the power off?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She felt her face growing warm again and looked around for a way out. "Well it just went off and I wanted to get it before it got cold!" she blurted. Good save, she said to herself.
Tyler started to say something, but was distracted by a voice that came across on his walkie-talkie. Just in time, Meg thought.
"Ops to Tyler, come in."
He plucked it from the belt hook and spoke "Tyler, over." His eyes roamed the ceiling and he absently wiped the moisture from his mouth.
"Sir, the RSA's are lighting up like a SLAmas tree. I think you should see this."
"On my way. Tyler out." He replaced the walkie-talkie and cursed under his breath before leaving.
Meg blew out her breath and saw a white plume form a white cloud in front of her face. She remembered Shimmer saying that the RSA's are part of SLA's early warning system in case anyone tried to sneak up on Mort or something. It seemed pretty silly to her considering how long of a ride it would be to get there, but what did she know?
Looking around, she noticed that no one was paying any attention to her and slipped into the corridor to follow Tyler. Even if he was a jerk, he was a cute one. She wondered if he was married or not, but then it wasn't too important. There was an unspoken rule here that if anyone touched her, their career was ruined. Considering they were already stationed in the armpit of Hell, what was the worst that could be done to them? She didn't want to know.
Tyler trotted up the steps and into the Command booth. Already a number of people were there and Meg was surprised to see that everyone was armed. Even the guy from the cafeteria was carrying a rifle. Was everyone here a soldier except her? She moved to the doorframe to eavesdrop.
"Ok, Collins. When did this start and how many are there?" Tyler asked. He moved close to look over the man's shoulder at the glowing displays.
"About two minutes before I hailed you sir. I count about twenty contacts, land and air."
"Any chance of these being false signals?"
"Possibly, but we have confirmation on the bogeys from multiple sources. It doesn't look good sir."
Tyler nodded and began to bark orders.
"Ross, send the word that we're about to be overrun. I want the airlocks sealed and everyone in constant contact. Preston, pass out the hands-off mikes. Defense code Delta. Are the automated sentries active?"
"Most of them are sir," Cox said. He was the sensor officer and was at least nice most of the time to Meg. "We've had at least three go down in the past five minutes. I think it's reasonable to think that we have company out there."
"Defense Code Brave. Ross, send that distress now. Everybody to their stations."
One of the other techs spun in a chair. "Sir, we've got contact inside the sentry perimeter and incoming on Airlock two."
"Any radio contact? Answer to hails?"
"No sir."
"Alright. Martin, take three men and the Stormer and get down there. Let's see what we're dealing with. Move like you've got a purpose people."
At that, the huddle of men spread out like a handful of dropped marbles. She started to duck for cover, but Tyler saw her. For a moment their eyes met and he turned away. There probably wasn't any reason to hide the trouble from her and he turned back to the consoles.
Wow, Cog was right. Darknight, all the way up here! She wondered if she'd get to see an Interceptor. It crossed her mind that this wasn't a game, or a TV show and the creeping thought sobered her. She stepped into the booth to watch the monitors that showed Airlock Two and saw that the team of men and Cog were positioned around the door, but no one was moving.
When he lights above the airlock began to flash and spin, she felt her stomach knot. A few moments later, a gust of snow and ice shot in and something walked in dragging a bundle. The team surrounded the figure, then the door closed and was sealed behind him. The Stormer patted the smaller figure on the back as the men relieved him of his load.
Shimmer was back and in one piece and she ran out of the booth and down the hall to where he would be coming in. She was excited and thankful. How could he survive out there? What had happened?
When the group came around the corner, Shimmer was second in line and strutting the way he did when he's proud of himself. His fur was stiff and matted with ice, but he didn't seem any worse for wear. When he saw her, his snout pulled back into a grin and he waved at her. Meg ran over to him and hugged him so tightly that the ice in his fur popped. Normally the Wraith avoids physical contact like the plague, but he allowed it for a few moments before prying her off.
"I'm fine child," he said.
"I was so-so worried about you!" she said, fighting back the tears that were running down her face.
"Megan," a man named Robinson started, "he needs to talk to Tyler right now so please get out of the way."
She nodded and stepped aside to let them pass, but fell in behind. Cog smiled at her and patted a cold mitten on her head. Shrugging it off, she hugged him and kept walking. The Wraith was dragging something in a bag and it seemed to be moving on its own. Shimmer noticed and stopped. He swatted it with a palm that sent ice flying and the bag stopped moving.
"What's in there?" she asked, but no one answered. She was anxious and curious, but the demeanor of the men around her worried her.
She couldn't wait to see what he had brought back.
"What in hell is THAT?" Tyler asked as they looked at the occupant of the bag. "Is it still alive? Let's look at it."
Shimmer nodded and shook the bag to dump the contents onto the padded floor mat. Small colored balls of glass, fishhooks, shiny silver ropes fell free with a rattle, but the Wraith wasn't satisfied. He upended the bag and kicked it. Out fell a brightly colored creature, which hit the floor and sprawled.
There was a click from the rifle Robinson was holding and the other men leaned in aiming weapons at it. Meg heard a low bass rumble from within Cog's chest and looked around. The only one who was relaxed was Shimmer, and he was basking in the attention.
"What in the HELL is it?" Tyler repeated.
The creature resembled a small human, with impossibly narrow limbs and stretched features. It was wearing what appeared to be the tattered remains of a snowsuit that showed claw and marks, compliments of the Wraith. Under the shredded parka, the figure was clad in bright green and red tights and tunic, with an ivy sash. The weirdest thing was that the creature's snow boots had small bells on the curled toes and around the ankle. Meg had never seen anything so silly looking. Was this some kind of joke?
Shimmer crouched down and smacked the side of the creature's head with a paw. It left a scratch and the creature let out a high pitched yelp then rolled over to cover its head. The strike knocked off its cap to reveal long, high ears like Meg had seen on SLA-mas decorations. After a moment, the creature sat up and looked around taking stock of the cordon of legs around it. It coughed, picked up its hat, and stood up. After it had dusted itself off and shed the parka, it straightened its cap. Meg saw that there were small bells on the tip of the hat and along the creature's tunic also. It jingled when it moved and stood upright as it turned towards Tyler.
"Greetings!" it said with a shrill voice and offered its hand," and Mer-ry SLA-mas!"
Tyler was taken aback and stared at the creature before reacting.
"Watch him", he said.
The visitor continued to hold its hand upward towards him and wiggled its fingers for emphasis. Tyler looked around at the other men and gingerly extended his hand to accept the handshake. After one pump, the creature's smile changed and it took on a wicked grin. It let out a giggling sound like tearing paper and Meg involuntarily began to step backwards.
It let out a triumphant "AH-HA!" and with a bright flash of light, suddenly had a small dagger in its off hand. With a jingle, it growled and lunged at Tyler, who tried to pull back and swung it about. Flipping the knife blade down, it screamed and buried the blade in his wrist. He yelled and hurled the thing away from him. It landed at Meg's feet with a jingle, and sprinted forward, slashing retreating ankles.
She backpedaled furiously, but the creature hooked the edge of her parka and scrambled up her side. Its laughter was loud and maniacal and she broke to run, but Cog stopped her. With a roar that echoed from the walls, he swiped the monster from her hip and sent it across the room. It slammed into the heavy airlock door with a sickening crunch, and with a final jingle, flopped to the floor. Cog cautiously approached it and stomped its head into paste.
"JEEZ-US", Robinson said "It's dead ain't it? Tell me it's dead!"
"My hand…my fucking hand…" Tyler whimpered. Two of the men led him away as he clutched his ruined wrist.
"It's dead now" Cog said and stomped it once more. "You OK Meg?"
She nodded. She had never seen so much blood and never imagined that anything so cute could be so evil. Meg shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted to be anywhere but here, even in Mort.
Collins turned to Shimmer and asked. "Did you see many of those…things out there?"
The Wraith shook his head, "None that I let live, but he probably has friends. Well-equipped."
"What was it?" Collins asked. He seemed to be having a hard time accepting what he had just seen. Even though he had it in his sites, he had been too stunned to pull the trigger. Everyone started talking at once.
"Dunno, some sort of doobrie maybe?" someone suggested
"No way, that thing was some sort of demon I'd say. Did you see its teeth? I mean-"
"Karma, gotta be something like some kinda new fangled com-bat critter-"
"What do you think it means? I dunno man, I think it's like the end of the world or somethin-"Meg shook her head and listened. They were all wrong and she was trembling when she realized the fairy tales were true.
"It was an Elf." When she spoke, they all looked at her. Her voice was steady and distant."And it means something's coming to town."
"This is GMS Bravo-Echo-Niner to SLA Control, over. GMS Bravo-Echo-Niner to SLA Control over. Come in please."
Everyone was huddled around Collins as he hunched over the communications console. He had been trying for ten minutes to call for help without any success. Meg wondered if maybe Cog was right and there was something jamming them.
"This is GMS Bravo-Echo-Niner to SLA Control," Collins repeated then turned around. "Sir, we aren't raising anyone or receiving anything. Either we are being jammed or there's one hell of a front moving in. I haven't gotten confirmation on the priority email either."
Tyler had taken two shots of Kickstart and his forearm was bandaged to his elbow. His face was a pasty color and he seemed tired, but managed to operate with the painkillers in his system. He seemed worn out.
"Let's assume the worst. We're being jammed and the communication lines have been cut." He patted him on the shoulder and stood up.
"Ross, check with Garrison and see how he's coming with the generators. The backups we've got running won't last forever. Once the main units are up again, I want a couple men posted there with orders to shoot anything that jingles."
Garrison nodded and left to take care of it. For a moment everyone was quiet and the eyes began to rest on Tyler. He straightened and allowed his voice to project around the room.
"Look people, we've got enough rations including water to do us for several weeks without resupply, so the main concern is keeping the area clear of hostiles. If anyone sees anything, I want you to raise an alarm immediately. Go to Defense code Alpha 2, I want the remote guns armed and online. If it's not one of ours, burn it."
"Yes sir."
Meg felt like the most boring place in the world was suddenly about to give her sensory overload. Who could have thought that things like 'elves' really existed? And if they exist, then that means that HE was real too. She shuddered and pushed the thoughts out of her head. Too weird.
"Shimmer," Tyler continued, "Once you're rested, I want you out there to look around and see what we're up against. Just recon, try to avoid engaging the enemy."
The Wraith had been grinning since this began and showed more teeth as Tyler started acting more like a soldier. Meg remembered him commenting that Tyler had the least combat experience of anyone here and wasn't even an Operative. If that was true, why was he in charge? Shimmer winked at her and left the room to get ready.
It occurred to her, that in spite of all the excitement, her Father hadn't checked on her. Or rather, none of his subordinates had. "Okay", she thought aloud "I'm going to go and look for him then". Meg wrapped her arms around herself and threaded her way through the crowd towards the central area.
The place was built to be boring and functional and with everything being institutional gray, they seemed to succeed. At least they let her decorate her room to make it easier to take. Paint was out of the question, but she managed to cover most of the wall space with her Gorezone Heroes Collectable Posters. The full-length nude of Sour Blood drew a few stares and comments, but it wasn't like anyone saw it but her. She figured that it made the men at the GMS feel inadequate, but they probably were anyway.
Part of the way to her Father's office, she heard a low rumbling. Stopping in middle of the hall, she cocked her head and pulled the parka back from her ear. A moment later she heard it again. Short rumbles of low bass, like distant thunder. Or guns. Meg hurried along her way and ducked past the maintenance guys who were unpacking weapons. The place was becoming a War World!
The door labeled "Dr. William Barker" was ajar and the inside was a flurry of activity. People were carrying books and stacks of paper back and forth, furiously swapping disks between computers, and shuffling vinyl binders. She didn't initially recognize her Father since he had his jacket off, but his voice drew her attention. Carefully working her way through the rushing lab workers, she managed to get within his personal distance before he noticed her.
"Hi Megan Honey, we're really busy here and I don't have time to talk right now." He turned and intercepted one of the speeding workers long enough to redirect him "James! those manuals go over there."
"Dad, I just want-" she began but he cut her off.
"Sorry Honey," he interrupted "I REALLY don't have time to talk. Look, I'll see you later." With that he pecked her cheek and moved back into the fray.
She felt her face get warm as she got angry and she looked at her feet for a moment. He was ALWAYS busy with something important and NEVER had the time to listen to her. Meg stomped through the workers and accidentally brushed a knee-high stack of papers, sending it spilling across the floor. She thought that someone called her name, but kept walking. No one there cared about her and they "didn't have time to talk" anyway. To hell with them all.
When she got near the central area, she thought she heard more rumbles but wasn't sure. Everyone was running around and the Command booth looked as busy as her Father's office. She made her way around most of the people and listened in from the edge of the command booth again.
"He isn't answering. Norris, where are you? Jackson, come in" Collins said into the mike. He grimaced and shook his head when the only answer was static.
Tyler looked like he was feeling better and had more color in his face. "What about Shimmer? Any status?"
"He said that there wouldn't be any contact with him until he was close by. You know how paranoid his kind is."
The lights suddenly came on along with the ventilation system. There was a small amount of applause that quickly died out. Cog came bounding in from the other direction and all attention was on him. His parka was torn and stained pink in a number of areas and the site of him quieted the applause.
"Someone blew the door to the cafeteria after we sealed it," he said to Tyler. "There were about ten of them, but they're down now. Jackson and Stiles are in the infirmary but Sorensen and Alsip didn't make it."
"Ok, put extra people in that area and seal off all the access areas. I want the Command center and generator rooms secured." He looked around, trying to look strong but his fear was beginning to creep out.
Meg saw the look on his face and nodded. "I'm going to my room."
When Meg got back to her quarters, she expected something to be wrong and came in cautiously holding her breath. She shined the light in before turning on the overhead and stood just inside the door. Ok, looks normal so far she thought and crept in further. She let the air out slowly and looked around for ten minutes before being convinced that things were normal again. The temperature was warm enough that she couldn't see her breath anymore.
Realizing she was sweating, she pulled off the heavy parka (leaving the lighter one) and curled up on her bed. Sour Blood was just where she left him and she set him aside to climb in, placing him with the flashlight on the nightstand. The heavy thermal blanket was padded and soft and she slipped into sleep without knowing it.
Dreams came at her like sharp ice crystals in a high wind, tearing and buffeting her about. Stumbling from scene to scene, she caught glimpses of fond childhood memories that had been rewritten to be darker and perverse. Every one was set in winter, a season she hand never known until recently and she was bitterly cold and alone. It was the SLA-mas season in dreamland and she knew He was coming to give her a present. Dodging through stacks of impossibly tall presents and under the boughs of the SLA-mas tree, she was constantly trailed by his army of grinning, evil elves. Demonic toys lunged and grasped at her as she ran past, trying to find a safe place to hide. Every time she hid, the sounds of heavy boots and his "Oh Oh Oh" call kept getting closer. Each time she was flushed out and the chase started again in another room of her family's home.
Meg came to shaking and looked around, confused and half-awake. When she realized that the room was dark, panic tightened her throat for a moment before it occurred that the power must be off again. Somewhere in the distance she heard thunder and thought of the seasons she was missing in New Paris. Then the bitter cold reminded her where she was and she nearly cried. Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, she reached for the flashlight on the nightstand.
Her hand patted the top of the nightstand and found the Sour Blood doobrie instead of the flashlight. She sat up, putting him on her lap, and felt around the top of the stand. The flashlight wasn't anywhere to be found. She hoped that it had simply fallen off instead of the alternative.
The doobrie moved slightly and started to fall, so she grasped him tighter as she leaned over to search the floor. She found the side of the flashlight and picked it up. Relief flooded across her like warmth. Maybe there was coffee or hot chocolate in the Central area.
"Lights Out" she said to the doobrie when it continued to stir. The flashlight seemed to be intact and she fiddled with it to find the power switch.
"Tickety-Tock, Choppity-Chop."
Meg froze and felt the tightness return to her throat as she started to turn point the flashlight at the doobrie. Loosening her grip, she trembled when she realized that it had hold of her too. She took a breath and snapped the flashlight on.
An evil Jack-O-Lantern holding a chainaxe grinned back at her.
Meg screamed and tried to toss the doobrie, but it hung on and started its chainaxe. She smacked it in the head with the flashlight and it growled and struck back. Sparks flew where the chainaxe connected to the flashlight and Meg slammed the doobrie headfirst into the side of the nightstand.
"Tickety-Tock, Choppity-Chop!"
She stood and slammed it into the wall, but lost her grip and it wiggled free.
"Tickety-Tock, Choppity-Chop!"
Pain shot through her arm as the tiny chainaxe bit her wrist and she let go. The HJ doobrie flopped onto the floor, grabbed its chainaxe and slashed at her ankles. For the second time in the same day, she was backpedaling from a threat that wasn't even waist high.The HJ doobrie kept chanting "Tickety-Tock, Choppity-Chop" as it chased her. Meg's back hit the wall near the foot of the bed and she knew she was cornered. For a moment it stopped, seemed to grin further then spun it's axe around its hand. Both blades whirled and sparks flew from the bed frame.
"Ding-Dong, Time to Die!"
The doobrie made a beeline for her and she leapt onto the bed and out of its reach. For a moment it vanished from sight, then the edge of the covers moved. She grasped the flashlight in both hands and waited. After a moment, tiny gloves appeared on the blanket, then the grinning pumpkin head appeared over the side of the bed. Meg swung hard and connected with the doobrie's head. It snapped off with a pop and bounced off the far wall, but the body stayed in place. After a moment, it went limp and fell to the floor twitching. Meg hopped off the bed and used her heavy boots to stomp the body and head into pieces.
God, who knew she hated that doobrie this much? She thought about it and the answer was obvious. The same maniac who knows who's been naughty and who's been nice. She trembled and turned the flashlight in place to view the rest of the room. Her breath was making a white plume, which meant that the power must be off again. For once, she decided not to make any comments about the maintenance crew. She didn't see anything moving.
Carefully, Meg stepped into the floor and grabbed her heavy parka and gloves. Her wrist was aching, but the adrenaline kept it in the back of her mind. She had to get the hell out of here now. Scooping her gloves off the nightstand, she backed towards the door.
It slammed shut behind her and she spun and backed away. Standing in front of her was another Halloween Jack doobrie. It grinned at her and spun its chainaxe around its hand. A moment later the miniature weapon whirled to life and sent sparks from the floor in front of it just like the earlier one.
"Tickety-Tock, Choppity-Chop!"
"Ding-Dong, Time to Die!" a chorus said from behind her. She spun the light around and saw five more of them on her desk, the dresser, and within the doll display case. What they had done to her prize doll collection was worthy of the real killer. She gasped for air as the ones behind her began to climb to the floor. Flashing the light in front of her, the first one was moving forward, dragging the axe at his side with a spray of sparks.
"Ding-Dong, Time to Die!"
She grasped the flashlight and looked at the door. If she could only get past the one, she could get help. Inspiration struck and she took the flashlight in one hand.
"Ready to Rumble!" she called. Something stirred from the side of the nightstand and came forward.
"Hail to the King, Baby!" the Sour Blood doobrie said. With a wink, he strutted up to the lone HJ doobrie and the two looked at each other. The HJ picked the chainaxe up and propped it on his shoulder as its face took on a "you've got to be kidding" smirk. For a moment, nothing was moving except the doobries coming up on Meg from behind. She heard the whirl and buzz of the chainaxes as they hit the floor.
"Sour Blood Ball Breaker!" the doobrie said and kicked the lone HJ in the crotch. The blow doubled the doobrie over and Sour Blood moved forward, kicking the chainaxe off the its shoulder. Wrapping his arms around the HJ's neck, he clasped his hands and crouched.
"Sour Blood Spine Smasher!" he yelled and dropped, taking the HJ's head off its shoulders with a loud pop. He stood cradling the pumpkin head like a basketball and tossed it away, under the bed.
"Who wants some?" he challenged, grabbing his crotch and throwing a pelvic thrust.
Meg jumped over him, throwing the door open and ran into the corridor. Behind her she heard the sounds of fighting mixed with various sound bytes and picked up speed. The smoke in the air added to the tears in her eyes as she sprinted towards the Central Area.
Damned if her Dad would ever call a doobrie a kid's toy again.
By the time that Meg had crossed into the general ops area, the smoke had parched her throat and made her light headed. She remembered the old fire drills when she lived on Mort and dropped to her hands feeling stupid. Even toddlers know the fire drill don’t they? Of course they aren’t attacked by doobries either…
Sucking in the cool air, she scrambled along the floor listening for any sounds. Nothing was following her and the only noise was the wind and something burning. The relative silence and absence of movement unsettled her and she crawled more quickly.
She had forgotten to pull on her mits and the cold floor left her palms feeling stiff and numb. Meg crouched to fasten the parka and pull the heavy gloves on but still couldn’t see anything for the smoke. Where was everyone?
Almost on queue, she stubbed her hand and fell headfirst onto her shoulder. Instead of hard concrete, she landed on something soft. Looking around, Meg realized it was a person in overwhites and recoiled in terror. His eyes were glassy as he stared up at the ceiling and she fought to get her breath. Meg gasped and forced it out in tiny white puffs, then wiped the tears out of her eyes.
He was dead. She had never seen a dead body in person before and she couldn’t help but stare. Gathering herself, she leaned forward and gingerly closed his eyes. As she sat back, the rest of her breath came out and she blinked the new tears away. The man had worked in the maintenance bay, but she couldn’t remember what his name was. His name tag said “Brown” and she closed her eyes to say a short prayer. With a final breath, she opened her eyes and sat up.
His eyes were open again. Meg yelped and scooted back, gasping for air as she stared at his face. The nearby wall kept her from retreating further and she whimpered, plastering herself against the bulkhead. For a few moments, she didn’t move then she saw it. A small puff of white came from the man’s mouth. He was alive!
Meg scrambled to him and shook him. He wasn’t moving, but a moment later he breathed again. She put her head on his chest to listen for a heartbeat, but the parka prevented her from hearing anything but her own pounding heart. He had to be alive since he was breathing and she gently touched his face. There was a brightly colored dart sticking out of his neck and Meg gingerly pulled it out and dropped it. It jingled when it hit and rolled away.
“I’ll get help! I’ll be right back!” she said with a hoarse little girl voice. Fear had tightened her throat enough that she had trouble talking and when she rose to run, the smoke cut her breathing again. She fell to her knees choking and then resumed crawling on her hands and knees. One of the utility lockers was overturned and she found a pile of respirators. Pulling one over her head, she ran the nozzle check and started running.
Meg passed smashed equipment and several more bodies, each with the glassy eyed stare, colored dart, and slow breath. Breaking into a dead run, she soon found herself near Airlock 3 on a bed of snow. There were scores of tiny footprints amongst the treads of the station crew’s snow boots. One larger than human set caught her attention and she pulled up the hood then snapped her goggles on. Cog was the only one with feet that big and if he went outside, she was going too.
The blowing snow rattled off her facemask like beads of gravel, but she was warm in the thermals. Even though the tracks were fading, it was obvious that a lot of people had gone through here recently. Meg picked up the pace, hoping to find someone before they were gone completely.
The tracks led up a slight embankment and Meg dropped to her stomach to crawl to the top. Shimmer had drummed it into her head that climbing a dune while standing is a great way to get shot and she had listened. Even though she usually ignored her Father’s orders, she always took heed of anything the wraith or Stormer said.
At the top of the snow, she gasped aloud. The bedtime stories that people tell to scare their kids were right.
All of them.
Here there be monsters.
Meg shook her head and closed her eyes, hoping it was her imagination. When she looked again she knew that what she saw was completely real. People from the station were huddled side-by-side without parkas in the whipping snow. She recognized faces - Norris, Jackson, Tyler, her Father too. Meg would have stood and run to him if it hadn’t been for what was guarding them.
Elves. Dozens of them.
Thin, bell-clad, caricatures out of someone’s nightmares were prodding and taunting their prisoners. Even though they were only clad in brightly colored tights, the monsters didn’t seem affected by the cold. The humans however were turning blue and having problems holding each other up. She had to do something before it was too late.
She started to rise and froze when one of the prisoners, a lab tech named Cox, was shoved forward. One of the elves, a large squat one, stepped in front of him and yelled in a high pitched voice.
“Naughty or Nice?”
The man didn’t respond and the elf growled and repeated himself.
“NAUGHTY OR NICE?”, it screeched and punched him in the groin. Cox leaned forward clasping himself and sank to the ground. The creature laughed and stepped up to look him in the eyes. After a moment, it stepped back and held his hand out to a subordinate.
“NAUGHTY IT IS!” it screamed and spun with a large knife. He stabbed the knife into Cox’s face and danced around him as the man screamed and rolled on the ground. A moment later, the monster pulled a pistol and pointed it at Cox’s face. There was a loud “Crack” and Meg flinched. Cox slumped over and lay in a fetal position, only to be dragged away by a group of elves and tossed into a trench.
Her vision was blurred with tears and she was mumbling incoherently to herself. Before she knew what she was doing, she had scooped up a heavy fist full of snow and stood yelling and waving. The elves looked around with surprise, but one spotted her and shrieked. A group broke from the circle and hopped across the snow towards her.
Meg patted the snow around a piece of ice and waited until they had started to climb the embankment. Lobbing the snowball overhand, she took one off its feet with a loud thunk. The remainder let out a growl and picked up the pace suddenly far more angry. Hesitating for a moment, Meg did the only thing she could think of. She let out a scream and ran like hell for the complex.
The jingle-jingle of bells behind her was getting closer, but the sound of her heart was beginning to drown them out. When the open airlock door complex came into sight, she pushed harder and tried to not think about what she would do once she was inside. She hadn’t thought this out very well.
She heard her Father’s voice in her head.
“As usual, you’ve let me down again. Can’t you do anything right?” The anger welled up and she tucked her head into the wind as she ran. Something latched onto her hip and swung up. An elf with beady eyes made of coal tore at her parka. Grabbing it by the neck she tried to wrench it free, but it sank its needle-like teeth into her mitten. The padding stopped it, but she felt the pinch as the monster snarled and clamped down harder.
Everything went white and she realized she had fallen into deep snow. Flailing to get to the top, the elf kept gnawing on her hand and had broken through the glove. She yelped and tried to fling him away, but it wrapped its limbs around her arm and held on. Meg shoved him under the snow, but was barely free when the jingling monsters formed a half circle in front of her.
Meg yelped when something hard smacked her respirator, splitting the heavy plastic in front of her left eye. The circle of elves had pulled slings and was loading what looked like ball bearings. One of them crept forward and giggled just out of arm’s reach.
“You going down, bee-itch!” he said and happily retreated to the firing line. The monsters shared a group giggle and began to swing their slings at their sides. The thin cords cut the air and made a whistling noise.
“READY!” the lead elf shouted. Meg struggled to get free of the snow, but only sunk deeper. The little bastard on her glove continued to gnaw and growl.
“AIM!”
She struggled harder but wasn’t going anywhere and they were about to throw. Inspiration struck.
“FIRE!” the elves screamed in unison. Meg ducked down, pulling herself into a ball partially under the snow and held the elf on her arm in front of her head. She felt the ball bearings smack into the little monster and it screamed then went limp. Sharp spikes of pain stabbed her forearm and elbow, bringing more tears to her eyes. She whimpered and was glad that at least it wasn’t her head.
One member of the firing squad yelled “RELOAD!” and Meg fought harder to get free. Suddenly the elves stopped moving and cocked their heads to one side. A moment later she heard it - a growing rumble that seemed to come from everywhere at once. With the elves distracted, Meg managed to pull herself free and slithered off the deep snow. She glanced back and when she saw they were still ignoring her, came to her knees and sprinted. A yell went up from the group, and with a jingle, they were on her heels again.
Meg managed to keep her footing on the ice without slowing down, but the elves were easily able to keep up. They ran along each side, whipping her with their slings as they whistled. One smacked her in the neck and she nearly fell. Another hit her across the knees, and another caught her square in the facemask, knocking another hole in the respirator. She screamed and ran faster but they were easily dancing around her.
When one of them caught her parka and began to climb, she screamed and swatted at it. Its evil laughter was in her ears and tears clouded her vision, causing her to stumble. Somewhere along the run, the elves had started singing in unison and she was lost in panic.
“Better Cry Out! You gonna Die!”
“Gonna bleed you good and I’m telling you why,”
“Sanna Claws is com’in to town!”The elf on top looped the sling around her chin and started cranking back, choking her. She clutched at the cord, ended off balance when one wrapped her ankles, and fell inside the open airlock door in a heap. They swarmed over her, pulling small blades and giggling evilly.
“Ho Diddly Fucking Ho Ho” someone said.
Meg looked up at the same time the elves did and saw a stranger wearing a light parka standing over her. Her mind wasn’t working well enough to speak and she continued to try to get them off her while staring at him. The elves hung on and looked at him with amused looks.
“Alright runts, get off the girl NOW!” he said and pointed what looked like a really big gun at them. He had company behind him and they casually moved around behind him forming a half circle.
“What If I don’t Tough Guy?” the elf choking her asked. It made a gesture with its hand that she didn’t think a creature of SLA-mas should know.
The stranger lunged forward and struck him with an armored glove. The elf screamed and exploded, staining the front of her parka red. She blinked and stared at him. She had never seen anyone move that quickly and didn’t think that anything that small could have that much blood in it.
“Ok, who wants a little Mutilator Glove next? No takers? Ok then, Back the Fuck away NOW!”
The elves climbed off her, holding their hands in front of them. A couple of them dropped small knives and slings. They kept their evil grins and seemed to be looking for an opening.
“That all of ‘em?” he asked another operative who nodded. That one was a Brainwaster, something she had never seen in person before.
“Right! Blast ‘em” he said. The weapon in his hands bucked several times and the elves were gone, nothing more than tiny pieces and red smears. Somewhere behind her, a bell was blown by the wind and jingled away.
“Love my Mangler, twelve gauges of maximum pain.” he said and walked up toward her.
“You always gotta drop product soundbytes?” a wraith asked.” It’s not like we’re getting coverage up here.”
“Just staying professional.” He said, pulling back his hood and kneeling next to her. “Hi, my name’s Caris. You ok, Miss?”
She nodded and he gently pulled her to her feet. She was partially in shock and nodded, self-consciously blushing. The Brainwaster stepped up and jerked her parka hard enough to make her head bounce as she spun towards him.
“One question kiddo, Where are the rest of these?”
Meg pointed towards the airlock and mumbled something about the north side. The Brainwaster let go and strode past. The wraith and two Stormers were already out the door ahead of him and the human waited a moment before following.
“Stay here Miss, you’ll be ok and out of the way”, the human said and left her. She didn’t care how they knew about what was happening, or what their mission was but they were going to save her Father, one way or another.
Meg quickly caught up to the squad and started spouting everything she had seen up to this point, but Caris ignored her. He motioned to one of the Stormers and pointed to her, and the creature came over.
“Better be quiet now girl. We’ve got a job to do and you’re going to make it worse if you keep talking. Be quiet, ok?” He was a 313 just like Cog and he had the same kind of respirator. She nodded and followed the squad without saying another word.
Her face was freezing from the split respirator and she cursed herself for not having gotten a replacement. The thought of her Father and the others not having any cold weather gear encouraged her to suck it up and she followed in the footprints of the human. Caris seemed to be taking the same route she had run away from.
The wraith was crouched at the top of the embankment and the human quickly crawled upwards to sit next to him. After a moment, he crawled back down and gathered his team.
“Ok, we’ve got about twenty-five hostiles, at least a dozen softies, and a lot of open ground. Hammer and Snip take the left flank. Kris and I’ll take the right while Goldie holds this position. We’ll catch them in a crossfire and wipe the little bastards out. Let’s hit it.”
Meg listened from behind the Stormer she thought was called Snip and pushed past him.
“What about the workers and my Dad?” she asked. Her voice had that pleading little girl tone that she hated so much, but after all this crap she didn’t care. The squad began to move along to its positions and she grabbed Caris’s arm. He gently pried her hand off his elbow and turned.
“We’re just here to take down the shorties, not save anybody. I’ll do what I can, ok? Just stay out of the way.”
Meg started to object, but shut up when he gave her the adult look that both her parents had mastered. She made up her mind - if they weren’t going to save those people, then dammit she would.
Meg circled around and looked for anything she could use as a weapon, but came up empty. She ran back to the facility airlock and found a pistol next to one of the incapacitated workers. Picking it up, she looked it over and was surprised how heavy it was. She had seen enough T.V. to know how to flick the safety off, but had never fired one. It couldn’t be that hard since so many operatives used them.
In a few minutes she was back in the cold near where the squad had left her. She cursed again about the respirator and climbed the embankment exactly the way Shimmer told her not to. Turns out that he was right about making an easy target. The elves saw her immediately and rushed towards her jingling and giggling all the way. They were nearly on her as she came down the other side.
She pulled in a careful breath and gripped the pistol in both hands. Raising it to shoulder level, she pointed it at the incoming elves. They skidded to a stop about fifteen feet down slope of her and she wasn’t sure what to do.
“I’m taking the prisoners away and if you don’t try anything, nobody else is going to get hurt.”
They giggled at her again and irritation welled up. She was used to adults not taking her seriously, but non-people were something entirely different. Meg aimed the handgun at one of the elves and jerked the trigger.
The boom was deafening and the pistol spun out of her grasp. She fell backwards with her hands up and scrambled after it. The elves were laughing so hard that she managed to have the pistol pointed at them again before they could react.
“I-I mean business!” she stammered. The elves grinned at her and began to move forward.
“Then go ahead and shoot honey,” one of the elves challenged.
She pulled the trigger, but this time nothing happened. Meg looked at the top of the weapon and it looked different, somehow broken.
“Out of bullets and out of luck sweetie,” the elf cackled.
Meg threw the pistol at him and the elves pulled their slings free. The whirling sound filled the air and she balled up into a fetal position and started to whimper. This seemed to delight them to no end but one of them stopped his friends, pulling a bag from his back.
“Merry SLA-mas Meg!” it said and dumped the contents of the sack at her feet. With a thud, a trio of Halloween Jack doobries hit the ground. One of the elves grinned and leaned near them.
“Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock” he said. Suddenly their eyes began to glow and they stood up and spoke in unison. The group kicked their chainaxes, which growled to life.
"Tickety-Tock, Choppity-Chop!”
They came forward, sending sprays of snow in tiny arcs in front of them. Meg squeaked and backpedaled.
"Ding-Dong, Time to Die!"
She tossed snow at one, but it batted the clod away with its axe and grinned. Meg began to crawl backwards up the embankment and the doobries kept coming forward.
"Tickety-Tock, Choppity-Chop!”
One got close enough to strike and the blade of its chainaxe bit through the goretex webbing on the side of her boot. She kicked, sending it tumbling backwards and clamored up the embankment with the homicidal toys on her heels. A sudden landslide washed over her and would have swept her downwards with the toys, but something had hold of her parka.
“Hi Meg” Cog said as he lifted her to higher ground. She hugged him tightly and started to bawl like a child. The sounds of gunfire caught her attention and she blinked to clear her vision. In the distance the elves were being shot to pieces and the two Stormers were trying to help the prisoners to their feet.
“It’s over, they got ‘em” a voice said nearby. Meg looked to see Shimmer crouched next to her watching the action through his riflescope. She crouched down and hugged him, forcing him to lower the rifle. He seemed a bit exasperated by it, but let her go ahead anyway.
“It’s O.K. Meg, you’re safe with us,” Cog said aloud. The gunfire had stopped and Meg stood to look. The snow was covered with red stains, but none of the elves were left standing, at least that she could see.
“My Dad…” she started and bounded down the embankment. Running full bore over the snow, she fell hard twice but continued. Meg didn’t stop until she was caught by Caris on her way down for the third time.
“My Dad, I need to-“ she began.
“Dr. Barker is fine Meg, along with most of the others,” he said. She stared at him, mouth agape. He knew her name?
“How do you know my n-“
The wraith came bounding up and motioned to the Stormers who were unpacking some sort of equipment. His language was clipped and raspy, almost like he wasn’t used to the environment anymore.
“We’ve got a contact at two clicks North by Northeast, inbound. We’ll be ready in a second or two.”
Caris nodded and smiled and began to walk away from Meg. She followed him, not sure what was happening, but unsettled because it still wasn’t over.
“This one is mine. I’ve been waiting to bag this son-of-a-bitch since I was five,” he said.
As Caris walked up to the Stormers, Meg heard the distant sound of bells and looked around in terror. Cog and Shimmer had followed her and the wraith pointed towards the north.Meg turned and peered into the morning sun. Something was coming in and she felt the cold bite through her suit as the details came into focus. The craft looked like some kind of archaic utility transport, but was preceded by lines of some sort of quadruped. The one in front seemed to glow red with some sort of sensory gear.
“What izat?” Cog said innocently. Meg moved over between him and Shimmer for protection and the wraith responded by crouching and wrapping the rifle’s sling around his wrist. It didn’t look like he was going to be much comfort. Meg swallowed hard and answered him.
“Sanna Claws” she said. For a few moments the only sound she heard was the jiggling bells and she shuddered in fear.
Caris was holding a tube-like weapon in his hands that seemed to look much heavier than it actually was. He leveled the weapon at the incoming vehicle while humming something that sounded like “Sanna Claws is comin’ to town.” That song always scared the hell out of her as a child and now the creature was here.
In the back of the open-air vehicle, she could see him clearly. He was as horrible as all the children stories said he’d be and the red-suited giant seemed to be laughing as he came closer. She realized that she was starting to step behind the Stormer and stopped herself.
“Stuff this in your stocking, fatboy!” Caris said and winced. There was a hiss and flames shot from behind the tube causing the ground to steam. The rocket surged forward then upward, leaving a feathery arc towards the incoming sleigh. The pilot must have seen the rocket coming and took the sleigh in a sharp turn, but it was coming in too fast. There was a loud “whump”, an orange fireball and the sky filled with burning tinsel, falling bells, and toy parts. Something survived the initial hit and screamed all the way down until it crunched into the ice. One of the Stormers trotted over and finished the job.
Caris grinned and tossed the pipe away.
“That’s what I call holiday fun,” he said as he turned back to Meg.
“H-He’s dead? Finally dead?” she asked.
Caris grinned and laughed. “At least for this year, but next year it starts over again.”
The operative turned away and started directing his team and within minutes, the remaining prisoners were heading back towards the facility and warmth. Meg, Cog, and Shimmer fell in and helped as best they could with Meg helping her Father walk.
The tears on her cheeks burned where the wind was cutting through her respirator, so she pulled it off and wiped at them with her glove. Blinking, she realized that her vision was clear in more ways than she could imagine. This winter hell had managed to both strip her innocence and validate her childhood fears.
“What a paradox,” she thought aloud, drawing a weary look from her Father. “Can’t wait to see what kind of shit I’m in for on Easter. ”
Well Easter might have been ok, but the next Christmas was a bit rough..
To follow Megs story here.
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