The Thing 2: Infection✔️

Chapter 06: The Medi-Center

Blake had never felt more vulnerable.

He felt lucky enough to have found a pole of aquamarine lights leading away from Dronning Maud, into the worsening storm. Before leaving the Norwegian camp, Blake had made Pace and Williams try their radios for nearly five minutes, while he tried his, to get a message out to Whitley. But it was no use, there was nothing but static for them. Blake had a deeper concern: even if they could get a call through, there was no way a chopper could get out here. They were stuck. But he had to try, he had to get the data through.

Now, as he marched along the snow, leading the way, he occasionally glanced back over his shoulder, making sure he hadn't lost Pace or Williams in the snow. They were always back there, though they kept their distances, from him and each other. Well, more Williams than Pace. He was the only one they weren't sure about. Blake found himself wondering why the hell they'd keep an intensive care medical center as a detached portion of the base, this far away, in freaking Antarctica, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was that this was their reality. The 'why' of it didn't exactly measure up on the list of important information at the moment. Up ahead, the dark, angular shapes of a building were slowly appearing. Blake felt an immense relief flood through him. He'd been worrying it'd be too far away, he was already numb in his hands and feet. It was ridiculously, genuinely, utterly cold down here. Better yet, there were lights on in the building.

"Come on! We're almost there!" Blake called.

"Thank god," Pace moaned.

They hurried across the snow and hustled up the ice-resistant steps to the main entrance. He hadn't seen anyone moving in the windows as he approached, but now he was dangerously cold and didn't care if there was something in there. He opened up the door and stepped in, making room for Pace and Williams as he scanned the room he'd come to. He'd opted into using the flamethrower, letting the MP-5 hang by its sling.

The room definitely showed signs of wear and tear. Death, murder and brutal combat had already been visited upon the medi-center. The central room of the small outpost seemed to be where all the main work took place. A pair of examination tables dominated the center of the room, though one of them had been flipped over. Along the peripheral of the room were a pair of cold storage units and a large, glass-walled medical cabinet stuffed with all manner of surgical tools, supplies and medicine. The front windows were broken out, letting a bad chill into the room, and someone had tried, and failed, to cover them up with a pair of wooden tables. There were three other doors in the room, one on each wall, and windows looking into some of the rooms

There was nothing immediately dangerous in the first room, so Blake gave a quick order to shut the door behind them.

"Let's take this slow," he said.

"Fine by me," Williams replied.

Blake walked over to the nearest window, which was directly to the left of the front door. It offered a grim view into a small storage room. It was very dark in the room, and, Blake realized suddenly, covered in blood and gore. He shined his flashlight in, feeling his stomach turn over. There were body parts along the floor, blood and mashed-up gore, muscles and tissue, splattered all over the walls and even the ceiling.

"Jesus," Pace whispered. "What the fuck happened in there!?"

"I'm not going in there," Williams said.

"Hopefully we won't have to..." Blake murmured. Something suddenly shot blue-white sparks. Blake trained his light on whatever it was and saw a junction box fixed to the far wall. It had suffered some damage. Well, the lights were still on here, so, hopefully, it wasn't important. The only other window in the room was at the back. It offered a view into a more well-lit room. As Blake approached it, he stopped and did a double-take.