()%The Thing Within #ONC2023

Chapter 2

The more I advanced through the withered wheat fields, the more my mood grew sullied. Everything, as far as the eye could see, lay like a deadly scourge of pitch-black soot and sick rot. My boot caught against thick dried vines, making me stumble. Steading myself, I continued along the decayed fields bereft of life, where not even a lone fly seemed to dwell. We stopped to catch our breath as we continued to survey the revolting scene before us.

"Can't believe it used to be so green here once!" I said.

"What in the name of hell has come upon us?" Sam asked, shaking his head before walking two steps away to examine something on the ground—a rotting bird. "A chicken hawk," he said, turning away.

"There's something I don't understand," I said.

He turned to give me his full attention as he squinted his eyes. "What is it?"

"How come nothing happened to me?" I asked. "The glass cracked right in front of my eyes, and I didn't drop dead. Why?"

"You're sure it cracked?"

"Yes. I know what a crack is."

He nodded thoughtfully.

I continued. "It cracked and made a crevice. I remember looking through it at the—." I would not go through this again. One mention of the word creature and everyone looked at me like I'd grown an extra head.

He nodded, and I dropped the topic. Those answers would come later, I guess.

Sam began pointing out the badly decomposed carcass of various birds and wildlife, perhaps to internalize the extent of the damage done. "An antelope—a rabbit—no, two rabbits, one, two, three shoebills. All dead! Nothing's alive! Not a single thing is alive. I can't even see a fly!" He let out a deep breath before adjusting his helmet and breathing gear, his chest rising extra high.

I adjusted mine as well, recalling Mr. Frederick Nelson, our boss's words. "Jenny, you don't have to do this. You can let the others handle it, or wait for the southerners!" he'd said.

We'd waited for the southerners months now and they never turned up. Blame it on history, perhaps. Our two countries were guilty of a nasty warmongering history. I honestly had no belief in any southerner coming to our aid, today, or ever.

And about me leaving the job to others, for fear of dying? Well, that wasn't who I was. The situation was dire. Scientists in Northern Frigoria had seen nothing like it. Whatever it was, it had no name and bore traits of innumerable diseases. Through the grapevine came whispers we were dealing with more than we bargained for. What secrets were waiting to be discovered inside the dome and how would that impact our world? Would we be able to reverse the decay that had already spread like wildfire? We might never know unless we tried. Something had to be done.

Sam must have remembered our boss's words as well, for suddenly he turned to me with concern in his eyes. "Jenny Griffith—Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, my solemn voice matching my bleak expression.

Sam nodded understandably before silently leading the way back to his van. We entered the vehicle and continued in silence as I weighed the consequences should things turn berserk today. At worst, we might end up dead, and if not, with ruinous health.

A short while later, we came to the edge of the rotten fields, emerged, and began our trek to the lifeless excavation site ahead. Fifteen minutes later, we were at the site at the opening of the dome where we joined the rest of the gang—our mission commander, Danny Bevington, our computer scientist, Ben James, two cousins, Simon, our lead engineer, and Oliver Walker, a research scientist.