The Thing 3: Assimilation✔️

Chapter 03: A Moment's Peace

For the second time that day, Blake swam back to consciousness.

Only this time, he was speared by a harpoon and jerked back. Someone stuck something sharp and painful in his bicep and he heard voices.

"Fuck off!" he snapped incoherently as the needle was extracted.

"Easy now," said a familiar voice. "Sorry about that, pal...okay, looks like he's not infected. Blake...can you hear me?"

Blake groaned and opened his eyes. He was lying on his back and several faces were staring down at him. He recognized MacReady, Weldon and North, though he didn't recognize the final man. He was a very pale man with short, dark hair and a cleanly shaved face. He looked cautious and wary, a deep frown etching lines into his face.

"What the fuck happened?" Blake groaned.

"Peltola here whacked you a good one," MacReady replied, indicating the new man. "We weren't sure who was coming into our base and Peltola's a little jumpy."

"Thanks," Blake muttered.

"Hey, I've been here by myself for about a day," Peltola replied.

"You're the last one to show up. You've been out for about half an hour. In all the chaos, I lost track of most people but, between us, we've been able to figure out that you and Burrows were the only ones left missing. What happened to him? We haven't heard anything from him."

Blake sighed, shook his head. "He didn't make it." The first thing he felt besides a tremendous pain in his head was sharp-edged guilt. "I fucked up. I wasn't paying attention, too damned tired from no sleep and no food..."

MacReady frowned. "I'm sorry that happened...damn, he and Peltola were our only engineers...all right, Blake, pay attention."

As he said this, Blake became more alert, again remembering the omnipresent threat of infection. He knew that they had tested him just now, and he hadn't been infected, so that was a big plus. But what about them?

MacReady seemed to read his mind. He held up a test kit. "Now, I've tested everyone else in this room. I'm going to test myself right now for you, so that you can trust me. Does that make sense?" he asked.

Blake nodded slowly, then grimaced, more pain shooting through his skull. He remained sitting, watching as MacReady tested himself. It came out negative. Blake relaxed.

"Now what?" North asked as MacReady tossed the kit away and offered Blake a helping hand.

"Well, we've got a lot to do," MacReady replied. "Blake-"

Once he was standing, Blake held up both of his hands in a defensive gesture. "MacReady, whatever it is, I can't do it. I'm dead on my feet. You know I'm Special Forces, so you know I'm not just bitching. I know my limits. I've reached them. I need a meal, a big one, and sleep. Not a nap, real, honest to god sleep, and a shower and change of clothes if you can manage it."

MacReady stared at him for a long moment. He'd lost his sunglasses and his huge, weirdly out of place sombrero. It made him look more human. Finally, he nodded. "Okay, I hear you. I'll show you around, get you situated. Peltola, go look at that generator. North, make sure this place is locked down. Weldon, start inventorying the medical supplies."

The three men snapped off crisp affirmative responses and split up. Blake looked around. The room he'd come into was a basic entryway, just a table and a few boxes along the walls. Besides the one he'd come in through, there were three doors, one in each wall.

"This is the fall-back base. Right now we're calling it Outpost Bravo. Down there," he pointed down the left-hand doorway, "is the generator room and the medical bay. Dead ahead is the mess and, well, what passes for living quarters. To the right is our makeshift armory and a comms room. And that's it. Peltola's been here for the past three days, making it inhabitable. I sent him ahead once we discovered this during a scouting mission in the tunnels. I've been sending the others over from time to time to help. Come on."