The Abdominal Snowman

"Yeah, its probably still there. The thing that got your men? Not it. That was one of the original expedition members. Allie Murdock."

"No. That thing wasn't human."

"I guess you should have gotten a better briefing from your boss. Professor, you're the smartest person on the continent, care to explain?"

"Well, this grotto creature the young man is speaking of—which I was deceived about, and I'm more than a bit agitated about that—would be consistent with the yetis' description of a great, eating beast. I don't have enough information to discuss that, but I can share my observations and speculations regarding Miss Murdock. She appeared to be in the midst of an unknown type of biological transmutation. The cause: likely an encounter with this mysterious creature. Since she demonstrated a predatory nature by... by slaughtering and consuming a member of the tribe, we should assume she was exposed to some type of biological contaminant but still managed to escape."

"That gunk she left on the child," Chastity said, "it was alive—it moved, I saw it."

"Well, gentlemen," Chauncey added, "if you had any skin-to-slime contact with the thing that Miss Murdock is becoming—has become—I suggest you—"

"We're fine," Caleb said with the shady speed of every horror movie scumbag that hid a zombie bite. "Give us the cryophage canisters and we'll forget we saw you."

"I don't think we will."

Chastity felt the corners of her mouth curl up into a surprised grin as she processed Chauncey's curt refusal.

"Old man, I'll—"

"You'll do nothing. You're holding a burnt out stick that barely has an ember left to it. You haven't pulled a gun or threatened to fire on us and, actually, I haven't heard a shot fired since that first massive barrage so I suspect you're out of bullets—wasted on something that they couldn't hurt or dropped in the cave system when you ran scared from the oogie boogie that gobbled down your little hirelings—and you have no friend in Miss Summers or the yeti or myself, so when that pitiful excuse of a torch goes out, you'll be alone in the dark with a creature that I hope is still human enough to delight in peeling off your skin in little strips and digging the marrow out of your bones. So unless you have something to offer us besides a knife in the back, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't be on our way and let that happen."

Caleb hesitated and Chastity saw that he—like she—was taken aback by the calm brutality that punctuated the professor's words. "We have a map. We can help you escape the caves—provide protection."

Professor Adams let out a hearty chuckle. "Young man, you might as well offer to sell us the air we're breathing. You lasted less than fifteen minutes in the caves before you were forced to cower in a corner, and two of your men have been eaten, so pardon my skepticism in your ability. As for our capacity to escape, it seems we're in an equal amount of danger inside or out. So, no, your 'protection' isn't needed."

Buzz Cut broke in. "We have the access key to the transport pod. You can have it and fly yourself out."

Chastity held out a hand. She could see Caleb processing the agonizingly short list of options. After an irritatingly long moment he snagged hold of the stainless steel beaded chain around his neck and pulled it off. An electronic keycard dangled at the end.

"Smart man," Chastity said as she snatched it away. She caught a flash of weak light from a data screen on his forearm. "And the battery packs from your comm-cuffs—both of you."

"What now?" Caleb asked.

"You people are the reason this thing is awake and roaming, so you're going to bait it in so we can kill it," Chastity said with a smile—one that Caleb and Buzz Cut didn't return.

*

"You're sure this will work?"

"I'm nowhere near sure," Chastity said. The plasma blaster suddenly seemed heavy in her hand. "It ran from fire. Whatever stockpile of oil and wood the tribe has can't last at the rate they're burning it to block off the caves to force it toward us. This is all we've got."

"You know that's a lie."

He was right. Pauline had sent the cryophage nanites for just this purpose.

"Those aren't an option," Chastity said. "At least not yet." Those last words felt gritty on her tongue, like saying them aloud was a betrayal to a friend and mentor who was so adamantly against using the cryophage on any living creature.

"Whatever," Caleb said. "We need a backup."

"You didn't have a backup plan when you came in here to execute us and take the cryophage canisters."

"Who says the original plan isn't still on track? It's still possible for both of us to get what we want."

"You know who you're working for, right?"

"Pauline Eastburn."

Chastity gave Caleb a skeptical look. She would have to have Alex run a check on the man's IQ when they got home. "Do you not see anything strange about this? Do you really think a college dean could hire a group of mercenaries off the books? Or run a secret mission disguised as an expedition?"

"Never thought that deep into it. The check cleared and I don't get paid to ask questions."

"You better start. The Think Tank has its hands in this, and I can tell you from experience that the boss there doesn't like messes—and this mission, Caleb, is a fucking fiasco. You might want to consider an escape plan of your own, before he ties you up like the little loose end that you are."

Caleb didn't respond.

"Shh," came from the comm-cuff on Chastity's wrist. "We're in the middle of something here—stop making the bait paranoid. And there's movement coming our way; I'm picking up blondie's huffing on my microphone and... slithering?"

Chastity gave a brief smile. As asshole-ish as Alex was, she was glad to have him back. "Get ready everyone, it's going down." She dialed the blaster's beam to wide spread. The ray wouldn't be as concentrated, but it would cover a broader area and her aim wouldn't have to be as precise. "Quick translation, Alex: 'It's coming, Khor, make sure your people are in place and ready.'" Chastity flipped back from the translation program before it had a chance to deplete the borrowed battery packs. Khor gave a quick nod and darted down the side tunnel that ran alongside the passageway they had set up in.

Over the past hour she had worked out tactics with Khor and a group of yeti. Maps were sketched out, supplies were gathered, and yeti and people put in place... the only thing left was the coming ambush.

"Professor, you're ready?"

His voice was one of forced steadiness. "I am, Miss Summers." At some point he decided against the handgun and picked up the machete she had brought, and he now clutched it in both hands ready to swing. Chastity wasn't sure how the old man would fare in close combat if it came to that.

"Caleb?" She looked at him, then down to the bloated pouches fashioned from sea lion stomachs. They contained almost all of the yetis' remaining supply of seal oil.

Buzz Cut came close enough for Chastity to hear. His breaths were broken and his voice was hoarse. "It's coming," he shouted as he rounded the bend in the cave.

Hell hurtled close behind. Nothing human was left in the nightmare shape that pursued. It seemed unreal, sinewy and fluid at the same time. Lidless, green globes—eyes with gashed pupils that weren't related to any animal that Chastity had ever seen—bubbled through and swam beneath its greasy, translucent grey surface. Barbed tentacles reached and thrashed alarmingly close to Buzz Cut.

It was larger than before—the mass, Chastity expected, was the equivalent of Allie and the two digested mercenaries' bodies.

"KHOR, NOW!" she screamed.

The cave behind the thing burst bright with the yellow and orange glow of firelight, outlining the fluid shape of the monster. The yeti had lain in wait in the connecting tunnel to block a retreat. The Allie-thing had nowhere to go now but forward.

Buzz Cut dove through the air between Caleb and Chastity and landed with a grunt behind them and the makeshift barricade of piled rock.

The dozen or so eyes that bobbled and skimmed along the slime-scummed convolutions of the creature converged and focused on Chastity as she stood and raised the blaster. There was no time for fear as the thing as tentacles extruded from its surface and sailed toward her. There was no recoil from the blaster as a bolt of concentrated yellow energy discharged and hit the thing dead center. It let out a shrill, whistling shriek as its elongating tentacles blazed into nothingness.

The surface of its body scorched and lost its iridescent luster where the blast hit and black smoke rose and rolled along the cave roof.

The blast had hurt but not killed. As Chastity dialed the blaster to the death ray setting that concentrated the beam, the creature flexed and split the thin crust of char into a gaping cavity lined with rows of needlepointed teeth. Chastity aimed and fired again, but the creature moved faster than it had when they first encountered it—when it was still partly bound by the diminishing solidity and limitations of Allie's flesh. It flattened itself against the cave wall and floor then swept forward like a tsunami, colliding into the hastily constructed barricade of volcanic rocks.

"Throw it, Caleb. Now!" Chastity roared just before the shove of dislodged stones knocked her off her feet.

"Use the cryophage," he shouted back. He dropped the oil sack to the floor. "Oil and sticks aren't going to stop this thing."

"Throw something, for fucks sake!" Buzz Cut screamed.

"You can stop it, Summers. Use the canisters!"

The rocks thrown around Chastity wobbled as the creature recollected itself. It swelled and rose into a roiling pillar of slime and ooze. Eyes of varied sizes blistered out all along its surface. A pseudopod pushed forward and unfolded to reveal a lamprey-like mouth.

"Allie!" It was Professor Adams that rushed forward to place himself as an extremely frail defender between the widening maw of teeth and Chastity. "Please, Allie. If there's anything left of you, I'm begging you to please don't make me do this." One hand was raised, palm extended in a gesture to stop; the other hand hung at his side, and in it, Chastity saw the steel glint of a cryophage canister.

So much happened in the moment before Chastity could scream. The mouth shot forward on its gristly stalk and engulfed Professor Adams's hand. Chastity squeezed the grip of the blaster tight. There was no clear shot around Professor Adams, so she swung it to the angle where Caleb's legs came together and fired. He screeched and fell to the ground. Chastity scuttled past him to the seal oil-filled pouches, grabbed one and heaved it into the mass of the monster.

The thing started to absorb it, but Chastity fired again, faster than the thing's ability to digest, and hit her target. She watched the flame explode in slow motion. The plasma bolt cut through the thin layer of the sack and ignited the rendered seal oil inside. The fiery liquid spilled down the monster's front, further scorching it.

It let out a whistling screech and tried to back away, pulling Professor Adams with it.

Chastity aimed and fired again, cutting through the cartilaginous extension that held her friend. The pseudopod burned and fell away, letting the professor fall to the ground.

Chastity held the trigger tight, forcing out a constant beam from the blaster. She swung wildly, crisscrossing the beam across the beast. The concentrated ray sliced through the black-grey blob, setting it further aflame and cutting it into smaller pieces.

The thing tried to reconnect itself, but the burning oil clung and spread out all around. No matter which way it shifted, it burned.

The blaster beam died, it's batteries drained.

Buzz Cut grabbed the other oil-filled sack and pitched it into the fire as Chastity scrambled to Professor Adams.

"Professor—Chauncey—talk to me! Please!"

Professor Adams stayed uncharacteristically silent. His eyes were unfocused and refused to settle on Chastity's face or any spot for long. He looked unexpectedly euphoric in spite of the toothy orifice that had sloughed off the creature and continued to chew his hand.

On the ground beside him was the canister. Chastity picked it up and held it for long seconds. Could it stop the corruption that was undoubtedly starting? Could it be reversed? If he survived... Chastity pushed away the insistent flood of what ifs that filled her thoughts.

"I'm so sorry, Chauncey," Chastity said as she tapped the first hexagonal button to arm the nanites. A set of injection ports slid out of the canister's base. All she had to do was touch them to his skin and he would have a chance.

But was it right?

They had been driven insane by the unending agony of the preservation process. That's what he had said earlier.

Chastity hesitated, and in that brief pause she registered movement behind her. A rough hand wound into her hair and jerked her head backward. She fell off balance and was dragged on her back across the rough cave floor. As she fought, she caught a quick glance of burnt combat pants and charred testicles.

"I am going to bash your goddamn skull in," Caleb snarled. He clamped his free hand into a fist and punched.

Chastity couldn't pull free but she managed to shift enough that he only landed a glancing blow to the side of her head.

"Let me go," she screamed and pounded wildly, smacking at any part of him she could reach.

She heard the slightest yelp and his grip went lax.

And she realized what she had done.

Chastity spun around on her haunches and kicked her heels against the ground to push herself away. Caleb's face was pale and his eyes were wide—terrified and condemning at the same time. She followed the slow drift of his gaze down to his arm, where the steel canister had attached itself to his bicep.

"Ohgodohgodohgodithurts..." Any words that would have followed were lost as the vowels shifted into a strained and harrowed wail that came to an abrupt and chilling end as a thin layer of frost raced across him, locking his lungs and vocal cords mid-scream.

Chastity turned and crawled back to Professor Adams. Where were the other canisters? She scanned the area around him and tossed rocks aside. Nothing.

Khor and two other yeti reappeared from the hard darkness of the connecting tunnel. The two let out a thunderous war cry and thrust their spears into the crumbling remains of thing to push it deeper into the flames. Khor ignored them and fell to his knees opposite Chastity. He gently touched her chin with a knuckle, but she wouldn't raise her gaze to meet his, so he lowered his eyes to the old man collapsed on the ground between them and tensed. The silvery sheen of tendons showed through the back of Professor Adams's hand, where dissolving skin was being replaced with a translucent black-grey swirl of protoplasmic flesh.

"What do I do?" she whispered. The words were heavy and hurt her throat. She was on the verge of tears and her clenched hands trembled from it. The translator program wasn't active, but she knew in Khor's silence he understood. The infection would spread. Professor Adams would lose himself. This horror of a night would repeat unless...

"I can't..." she said. A glint of reflected firelight caught her eye—the machete that Professor Adams had brought. He had dropped it when he tried to evoke sympathy in a monster to save her.

There was a savage speed in the way Chastity grabbed the blade and raised it high. She brought it down with all the strength she had, and hacked it deep into the meat just below Professor Adam's elbow. Skin split and fascia and muscles parted to show white-yellow bone that was quickly covered by an arterial gush of bright red blood. Fuck fuck fuck ran through her brain. She hadn't thought to apply a tourniquet.

Khor wrapped his oversized hand around the man's upper arm and squeezed tight. The flow of blood slowed and stopped. "Cut. Cut!" he said with a gruff and rumbling accent. He must have picked up the word and meaning when working with Professor Adams.

Chastity swung the blade again and brought it down again and again. Bone splintered and finally separated, but the bone splintered through, and after the third strike Chauncey was left with one and a half arms.

Chastity grabbed the severed end of the amputated limb and flung it as far as she could into the fire that filled the cave.

*

Sit in the chair; check the flow rate on the infusion pump; straighten and re-straighten the utensils, adjust the uneaten breakfast plate on the bedside table, then repeat when the lunch tray replaces the first; re-tuck the unruly sheet on the hospital bed; brush wisps of snowy-white hair off the forehead of a sleeping face. Chastity spent the morning and early afternoon repeating this remorseful orbit around the hospital room and only stopped when her old mentor woke with a stretch and a medicated sigh.

"Is there any new news?" His words were slightly slurred with sleepiness.

"Too much of it. We're taking up about twenty of the twenty-four hour news cycle on some channels."

Chastity turned on the television to a familiar parka-fleeced face.

"This is Betsy Chase, live from the Southern Pacific Ocean, off the coast of Western Antarctica, where I have been challenging the admirals of the Multinational Naval Corp for the past three days to drop this unconstitutional blockade and allow me—to allow you, dedicated viewers—access to the unlicensed—and likely illegal—expedition site... Viewers, please hold on for just one moment, I'm getting a very important update." She lowered her head and held her hand to her ear, as if the entire moment hadn't been scripted out and she was actually getting an emergency update. "Yes. Yes. I understand. Viewers—this is very exciting—we have a Betsy Chase Show exclusive coming up after the break: Charles McMurtey, Director of the Deangstrom Research Institute, will be joining us live from his New San Francisco office to discuss the baseless allegations made against him."

Chastity muted the television and turned to Chauncey. "I don't know if you're up to this yet. You need to focus on healing."

Chauncey pressed a control on the side rail and elevated the head of the bed. "I'm old and I've seen much worse than this could ever be, dear girl. And the healing is done." He wagged the stump of his left forearm at her. "I just have to be fitted for the android prosthesis. I'm told it will be better than the original—none of that flappy, flappy, saggy skin."

Chastity shook her head at the old man's attempted humor. When Betsy Chase returned to the screen Chastity unmuted the television. During the short commercial break Betsy had had a complete hair, makeup, and wardrobe change.

"Thank you for joining us, Director McMurtey. I know it must be difficulty for a man as busy as yourself." The screen split and Charles McMurtey appeared, seated behind his overly expensive mahogany desk.

"Proud to be here with you, Betsy. You are a guiding light of truth to the people of the world."

Betsy put her hand to her chest and drew out the words, "Thank you, thank you, but I'm only a humble servant of the people, which is why I wanted to speak with you. Horrible, horrible allegations were made claiming involvement in the—what my viewers and I expect to be highly criminal—Antarctica incident. Please, take all the time you need to rebut these allegations."

Chastity bit her lip when Betsy raised her fingers to air quote the word.

"It's shameful, Betsy, to be accused this way. I have always believed kindness was the key to human betterment, and that's how I've operated the Deangstrom Research Institute. You can imagine how hurt I felt when this... this cabal of renegade cryptid researchers misappropriated money that the Institute granted to New San Francisco University to study deglaciation. It hurt my heart, Betsy, thinking that people could be capable of that."