Extinct (48 page)

“Yes,” Pete said. He engaged the throttle and the tractor began to pick up speed. Their acceleration hitched unevenly—the tracks skittered on the ice as they tried to pick up speed. The blue streak of ice ahead took a long, sweeping curve to the right. They saw a slight shadow to the right of their path. The ice stood a little higher than the surrounding snow, making it easier for Pete to steer on top of the shelf of ice.

A light in the mirror caught Pete’s eye.

“Robby,” he said, “what’s going on back there?”

Robby tore his eyes from the path reluctantly and followed Pete’s gaze to the side-mounted mirror. In the darkness behind them, the line of tractors and sleds swept back in an arc. All were dark—lights off—except the second to last. On that tractor, just the yellow running lights were on, and the tractor veered out of line a bit. As far as Robby could tell, the tractor wasn’t in any immediate danger of slipping off the ice shelf, but it would be if it continued to veer.

“That’s Brynn’s tractor,” Robby said. He picked up the radio from the seat beside Pete. “Brynn, are you okay? What’s going on back there?”

They heard no response.

“Brad? Can you see anything?” Robby asked.

“Nothing but the back of Brynn’s trailer,” Brad said. “What’s going on?”

“Brynn is veering to the right. Brynn, can you hear me? Brad, slow down a little so you can follow our tracks,” Robby said.

Nate’s voice broke in over the radio. "Brynn? Listen up—I’m going to scuttle my tractor. I’ll be there in a minute. You hold on.”

“Nate, don’t!” Robby shouted. “We need you in your tractor. We’ve got the extra person. I’ll go find out what’s up with Brynn.”

“Do something quick, or I will,” Nate said.

Robby dropped the radio to his lap.

“I have to go back there,” Robby said to Pete.

“What? How?” asked Pete.

“We’re not going fast,” Robby said. “I’ll jump out and then run alongside.”

“It might not look fast, but there’s no way you could keep up running on ice and snow. You’d slip and get chewed under by the tracks,” Pete said.
 
“The ice looks wide enough. We could let the others pass us. Look—you can even see the sides of the road now. The snow drops off on either side. I’m not sure we’re still on the highway, but the ice shelf is fairly obvious.”

“What about the snowmobile?” Robby asked. Each sled carried a snowmobile strapped to the back, just behind the stacks of bodies.

“You’ll never get back there while we’re moving, and it’s lashed sideways. We have to stop, set up the ramps to the side, and then what? You can ride up next to Brynn’s trailer, but how will you transfer to the tractor? It’s too high up to climb into the cab from a moving snowmobile.”

“We have to do something fast,” Robby said.

“Tell the others to pass,” Pete said.

Robby picked up the radio and took a deep breath. He held up the radio with one hand and reached the other in his jacket pocket to touch the Volvo mirror he carried. “Christine, you’re going to take the lead. Pass us on the right when we move left. You’ll be able to see the edge of the road. There’s a shadow there. Stay away from the edge and keep your speed even as you pass. Got it?”

“I just keep following the blue ice?” asked Christine.

“Yes,” Robby said. “Everyone else, just pass us on the right. Brad, you’re going to stay behind Brynn. Drop back a bit so you can stop if something happens.”

“Okay,” Brad said.

“Good luck," Lisa said.

Pete started moving to the left as soon as Robby got on the radio. The sled lurched behind them and shook the tractor as he shifted its bulk towards the left edge of the ice. Robby’s stomach rose and flopped as Pete straightened the tractor again. The sled kept moving left and tugged at the back of the tractor as Pete corrected their direction. Once moved over, Pete dropped their speed. Christine began to pull past them a few seconds later.
 

“Just follow the shadow, Christine, and move back to the center when I let you know,” Robby said. He watched her trailer full of corpses pull by before giving her the okay. Right behind her, Lisa’s tractor came into view. Romie was hanging back a little. She seemed to have more trouble than the others keeping her tractor to the edge of the ice and on-course. She swerved towards Robby and Pete a couple of times, and Pete cursed her under his breath.
 

“Brynn, are you there? We’re coming,” Robby said.

“Brynn’s still on the road,” Brad said. “Just barely, but still on.”

When Romie finally moved by, Robby let her know on the radio so she could move back to the center of the road again. Even that move seemed to cause her trouble. Romie’s sled sloshed back and forth. She overcorrected her skid and then finally found her mark.

Nate kept abreast of Pete and Robby while Romie weaved back and forth. When he saw enough room, he waved to Robby and then accelerated his tractor fast, pulling up to the back of Romie’s sled. When everyone passed, Robby finally had a clear view out his side mirror. Brynn’s tractor chugged along with its running lights on, hugging the right side of the ice. Pete slowed to let Brynn’s tractor catch up and then he matched its speed.

Robby pressed his face against his window as Pete maneuvered to get as close to Brynn as possible. With only the running lights and the faint glow from the sky, it was difficult to be sure, but Robby thought he saw the tarp covering the bodies at the front of Brynn’s sled slipping loose from its straps. It fluttered back. As they drew even closer, Robby saw several of the bodies spilling forward from their stack.

“Tell me me how much space I’ve got,” Pete said. The sleds were a little wider than the tractors, so Pete couldn’t precisely judge how close he could get before the sleds would collide. Robby gave him a countdown and Pete closed the distance.

With the sleds nearly touching Robby judged the distance between the tractors. He nodded to Pete and climbed out on the running board, slipping past the door before closing it behind him. Nobody sat in the driver’s seat of Brynn’s tractor.

Pete lowered the window and yelled to be heard over the rolling, clinking tracks. "Reach out and grab the mirror if you can.”

Robby tested his weight on the mirror mounted to his own tractor before stretching out for the other one. It was mounted on a long arm to give visibility around the wide sled. Pete had mounted the extra mirrors himself; Robby hoped he’d done it well. Beneath him, the tracks churned up the loose snow. He watched them roll as he reached for the Brynn’s mirror. The gap between the tractors expanded and shrank. At their closest, Robby’s gloved fingers brushed the mirror on Brynn’s tractor. He would need several more inches to grip the support bar. Robby pulled his hand back and removed his glove with his teeth.

Robby took a deep breath around the glove in his mouth and let go of his own mirror. He pushed up onto his toes and let himself fall towards Brynn’s tractor. His fingers locked around the cold steel and he jumped. The mirror’s support bent under his weight, but his feet landed on Brynn’s running board and he swung his torso up. Brynn’s window was closed, so Robby found nothing to grab. Robby wrapped both hands around the mirror and tried to balance himself as he reached for the handle.

The door was locked, and the tractor looked empty. The throttle was set and locked.

The glove tumbled from his teeth and hit the tracks of the tractor. The tracks rolled forward and threw the glove into the snow before rolling over and chewing it up underneath. Robby banged on the window.

“Brynn! Brynn, are you in there?” Robby yelled.

Over his shoulder, Robby noticed Pete steering away from Brynn’s tractor.
 

“Robby,” Pete shouted. Robby heard Pete’s voice from two directions—yelled over the sound of the tractors from behind him, and coming from the radio on the seat of Brynn’s tractor. “You’re about to go over the edge. You have to jump.”

The running board shifted under Robby’s feet. The sled began to shift off the side of the ice-ledge, tugging the tractor to the side. Robby banged his naked hand against the glass, cursing himself for not bringing something to break the window.

“Jump, Robby,” Pete yelled.
 

Robby looked down at the snow rolling past beneath him. The tractor jerked again and he nearly lost his grip. He’d have to jump far enough so the sled wouldn’t run him over as it passed.

“Brynn!” he yelled, slapping at the glass one last time. His bare hand ached in the cold. “If you’re in there you have to get out. This whole thing is about to go over the edge.”

Robby turned away from the door and set his legs for the jump. Movement caught the corner of his eye and Robby turned to see Brynn’s tiny hand appearing to unlock the driver’s door of the dark cab. Robby lost no time—he yanked on the door and fell backwards, tugging the door open. All his strength pulled him around the door and up into the driver’s seat. Robby unlocked the throttle and eased it back to stop the rig. The tractor shuddered and groaned as the heavy sled kept slipping over the edge, dragging the tractor with it.

The radio erupted with Pete’s voice. "Robby, more throttle. Gentle acceleration. You’re still slipping.”

He nudged the throttle forward and the grinding and shaking intensified. He could feel the tracks slipping on the ice, failing to get traction. Robby clamped his jaw and pushed the throttle a little farther.
 

“That’s it.” Pete’s voice was nearly drowned out by the grinding. “Keep increasing speed, and don’t try to steer left at all. Straight forward.”

As the sled’s runner began to scrape its way back onto the edge of the ice, the tracks dug in and the tractor bucked with the exertion.
 

“Robby,” Brynn whispered. His voice came from the dark well behind the seat.

The tractor shook and rumbled. The engine groaned under the load. When the sled’s runners reclaimed purchase on the ice, the load shifted to the left, twisting the tractor and slamming Robby into the door. With the friction suddenly removed, the tractor shot forward. Robby wrestled the tractor to the left, away from the edge of the ice. They swung left and then overcorrected back to the right when they almost collided with Pete.
 

“You did it!” Pete called over the radio. “Nice job.”

“Good work, Robby,” Nate said. “Is Brynn there? Is Brynn okay?”

Robby turned on the lights inside the cab.

“Brynn? Are you okay?” Robby asked. He turned and looked down to find him curled up in the space where they’d packed their food and extra gear. He gripped his knees to his chest and tucked his head down to make himself into a little ball.
 

“What’s wrong?” Robby asked.

“They’ve come for me," Brynn said. He pointed up.

Robby lifted his gaze towards the back window of the cab. He scrambled backwards away from the rear window, throwing his body against the dashboard of the tractor. His numb hand accidentally landed on a switch, killing the interior lights.
 

The image from the window was still burned in his eyes—a dozen or so eyeless faces were pressed against the glass. Robby fumbled with the switch until lights inside the cab came back on. The dead didn’t respond to the light, but they were moving. Their hands groped and slid across the surface of the glass. Some pressed their lips against the window, giving Robby an intimate look at the insides of their mouths. All of them, whether their faces were pressed against the glass or not, were smiling with big, toothy grins.
 

Robby remembered the throttle just as Pete’s voice came over the radio. "Robby, what are you doing? You’re headed for the edge again.”

He spun and sat on the very edge of the seat and regained control of the tractor’s heading.

“It’s okay, Brynn,” Robby said, trying to get control enough to keep his voice from shaking. “They’re not trying to get us. They’re not real people, they’re just shells.”

Robby picked up the radio. “Brynn’s fine. Everything’s under control here. One of the straps gave way and we’ve got some… um…”

“Should we stop?” Brad radioed from behind.

“No,” Robby said. “Keep going as fast as we can. We have to get to the light.”

“Put Brynn on the radio,” Nate said.

Robby handed the radio down to Brynn. He didn’t look around to see if Brynn was reaching to take it. He didn’t want to risk looking at those hungry, eyeless, grinning faces. Brynn took the radio from his hand. When the boy’s hand brushed his, the skin on Robby’s hand crawled and sent a ripple of goosebumps up through his arm.
 

Nate’s voice came over the radio. “Brynn? Are you there, Brynn?”

After several long seconds, Robby heard the click of the send button and Brynn’s soft voice whispering into the radio.

“I can’t hear what you’re saying,” Nate said, cutting in.

“They’re here for me,” Brynn whispered louder. “You said they wouldn’t be able to get me, but they’re here for me.”
 

“I’m so sorry,” Nate said. “You’re okay now. Robby is there. He’s going to take care of you.”

“He’s just a boy," Brynn said. “He talks like a grownup, but he’s just a boy.”

“He’s smart,” Nate said. His voice sounded small over the radio; not nearly as strong as he sounded in person. “Don’t you worry. We’re almost there and then we’ll be together again. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you on your own.”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” whispered Brynn. “They’re all here for me.”

Up ahead, Pete pulled up behind Nate. Robby increased his speed until they re-formed their convoy.
 

Pete’s voice cut into the conversation. "How’s it going up front? Christine, are you okay? Still keeping to the center?”

“Yes,” Christine said after a few seconds. She left space between her phrases, like she expected someone to cut in. “It’s getting easier to follow the ice. There’s not as much snow up ahead.”

As they moved forward, Robby became aware of what Christine meant. Not only was the snow’s depth falling away on either side of the ice, but the thin layer of snow on top of the ice was decreasing as well. The miles rolled by under their tracks and the landscape changed. The snow on either side of the ice fell away and they drove their tractors down the middle of a wide path of blue-glowing ice. Robby’s shoulders ached, but he couldn’t stop hunching them forward. He would take a deep breath and try to relax his muscles, but soon they’d be bunched up again, burning hot from tension. Under the tarp on the back of Pete’s sled, the corpses writhed and squirmed, held down by the heavy strap. Here and there an arm would wrestle its way out of captivity and flop around. Robby sat on his bare hand until it warmed up, and then kept sitting on it. Occasionally the radio in Brynn’s hands would crackle to life and the team announced their status, but it happened less and less often.