‘Come on, we need to get inside,’ Mum shouted against the wind.
Dad was the first to reach the stairs leading to The Hub. He grabbed the handrail and turned to check on the others. ‘Everyone OK?’ He put out a gloved thumbs-up.
One by one, they each replied with the same gesture, so Dad started up the steps, and the rest of them followed. When he reached the top, he slammed his fist on the door-control button.
Nothing happened.
‘No power.’ Dima shouted and pointed to a panel beside the door. ‘Use the emergency.’
The panel was already half-open, so Dad stuck his fingers into the gap and pulled it the rest of the way. He dusted ice off the emergency lever, grabbed it, and yanked it downwards. It had frozen in place so it took a couple of attempts before there was a hollow clunk, a hisssss, and the door slid to one side, revealing the dark interior of The Hub.
‘Come on.’ Dad stood aside and ushered the others past him. ‘Everybody in.’
6
OUTPOST ZERO, ANTARCTICA
NOW
At home, Zak had this book called It’s A Strange World. It was a heavy, bright green hardback with a fuzzy lenticular photo on the front – the kind that changes when you move it. From one angle, the picture was of a weird reptilian monster’s head, green and leathery, with a huge mouth and small black eyes. But if you twisted it the other way, it turned into a human skull.
The book was full of photos and stories about the Unexplained. Bigfoot, the Tennessee Wildman, the Mothman, UFOs, stuff like that. One of Zak’s favourite things was to sit in bed and study the pictures, trying to think of explanations for some of the weird things that happen in the world. One of the stories was about a ship called the Mary Celeste that was found drifting in the Atlantic Ocean. There was nothing wrong with the ship, and everyone’s belongings were still on board, but the passengers and crew had disappeared. Gone.
Zak reckoned that when the sailors who found the Mary Celeste went on board, they must have felt the same way he did when he walked into The Hub. Everything about it was wrong. It was like stumbling into a spooky old graveyard at night.
When Dad closed the door, shutting out the howl of the wind, they stood in the darkness, no one saying anything. There wasn’t enough light to see more than a few centimetres in front of them, and it was way colder than it should have been. There air was clammy and damp, and the smell was… Zak made himself breathe deeper, tasting the air… yeah, it was like a mixture of over-ripe fruit and raw meat. Like the greengrocer’s and the butcher’s at the end of a long, hot summer day.
And Zak wasn’t the only one to notice it. He could tell everyone sensed something bad had happened here.
‘Hello?’ Dad’s voice died as soon as it came out of his mouth. ‘Anybody home?’ There was no echo at all, as if something had snatched the sound away. ‘Hello?’
Zak thought it was weird the way people did that, call ‘hello’ into the darkness. They always did it in films, as if the monster in the shadows was going to step out and wave with a smile. Hello!
‘There are torches,’ Dima said. There was a shuffle of boots followed by a patting sound. ‘Here.’ A click to Zak’s left, and a bright beam pierced the darkness.
Dima shone the light at the wall beside the door, illuminating a rack with two torches still in it. Beside them, a red fire extinguisher hung from a bracket, and next to it was a chunky orange rifle that looked like the Nerf Elite Alpha Trooper Zak had at home.
Mum and Dad took a torch each. They switched them on and swept the beams around The Hub.
The room was a rectangle, with a door in each wall leading to different sections of the base. On the wall beside each door, there was a fire extinguisher and one of those orange rifles. In front of them, a spiral staircase corkscrewed up through the ceiling. To the right, red plastic chairs were pushed away from square tables. One chair lay on its back like someone had kicked it over in a struggle. There were paper napkin dispensers, plates glistening with congealed food, overturned mugs with their contents drying on the tabletops.
As the torch beams swept across the room, Zak caught sight of someone standing by the last table. He saw the figure for a fraction of a second but it was enough to notice the old-fashioned windproof clothes. It wore large fur mittens, with a bulky hood shrouding its head. A dark balaclava covered its face so no skin was visible, and goggles hid its eyes, giving it the appearance of a giant, bloated insect. It wasn’t doing anything; just standing there. Watching them.
‘What’s that?’ Zak grabbed Mum’s hand and swept the torch back.
Where the figure had been standing, the room was empty. But it had felt so real; exactly as Zak imagined Scott of the Antarctic would look.
‘Is something there?’ Mum asked. ‘You see something?’
‘No.’ Zak let go of her hand and told himself to get a grip. ‘Just a shadow.’ This trip was going to be a nightmare if he jumped at every shadow in the dark. First the bear, and now this? They had been so real, though. What was wrong with him?
‘We’re going to be OK,’ Mum said. ‘You know that, right?’
‘Yeah. Of course,’ Zak said. ‘I know.’
‘Come on, we need to find out what happened here.’ Dad ventured further into the room. ‘Looks like they left in a hurry.’
‘Left where, though?’ May wondered. ‘Where would they go? We’re literally in the middle of nowhere.’
There was a pool table further over to the right; the balls and cues still out on the blue baize, casting long shadows as the torch beams passed over them. Close to it, an L-shaped sofa faced a screen on the back wall. There were deep impressions in the cushions where someone had been sitting.
‘Ewww, what’s that smell?’ May said. ‘It’s like something died in here. Some holiday this is turning out to be.’
Zak stuck close to her. ‘I thought you liked scary stuff.’ He couldn’t help glancing over at the place where he had seen the figure.
‘Yeah, whatever. I like scary films, not real scary stuff. Remind me why this place is called Outpost Zero. No, wait, I remember. It’s because there’s zero reason to come here.’
‘Actually…’ Zak imitated his dad by removing nonexistent glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, and deepening his voice. ‘It’s because Outpost One is being built on Mars. This base, right here, is what you might call Ground Zero for the Project.’
May snorted. Zak always did a pretty good impression of Dad.
‘That’s enough from you two,’ Mum warned.
‘Hello?’ Dad called again as he led the group towards the spiral staircase.
‘Hello!’ Zak whispered in return. ‘Who is it?’
May sniggered, but Dad ignored him.
‘Is anyone there?’ As Dad came closer to the stairs, something hard crunched under his boot and he stopped. ‘What’s that?’ He aimed the light at his feet. ‘Is that egg shells?’
‘No, it’s more like… I don’t know.’ Mum shone her torch at the floor and swept it around to illuminate more of the broken pieces. ‘Insects?’
‘Can’t be.’
‘No, you’re right,’ Zak said. ‘They’re like crushed insects. All dried up.’ As the torchlight played over them, they shimmered in different colours.