Some people will go to great lengths in an effort to escape a haunting memory. This was certainly the determination of Paul Westing, a young geologist with Omni Chemical from Great Britain.
A few months earlier, Paul could have never imagined himself in such a forsakenly cold and desolate place as Walrus Island. The island was literally a frozen chunk of earth and volcanic rock that rode the frigid waters of the Antarctic like a wandering iceberg and, for the next six months, this winter wasteland would be his new home.
Paul was somehow hoping that this unexpected sojourn would allow him to come to terms with a nightmare that had befallen him recently, one that had sent his world reeling and plunged him into an unimaginable despair. Well intentioned family and friends only served to reinforce the pain he felt, so when his company offered him an opportunity to take part in a working adventure at the bottom of the world, he jumped at the chance.
In spite of the vast distance from civilization, he would not be alone for there was said to be a small tribe of indigenous people residing somewhere within the vast and dark catacombs that riddled the island like a worm bored maze. This fact had been reported a year earlier by a captain whose ship was in desperate need of fuel and sought refuge there. Days soon turned into weeks and this indeterminate lingering made the islanders wary and eager to rid themselves of their uninvited guests.
On January fifth the captain reported in his ships log a most astounding and significant entry that would ultimately become their salvation and the sole reason behind Omni Chemical’s interest in the Island.
He wrote on that day, “Party of eight hunted seal ashore in the early morning hours. My first officer was approached by an elderly man clad entirely in Walrus skins who seemed to walk out of the frozen tundra from no place in particular. The old man attempted to communicate with the crew but was unsuccessful because of his strange dialect. After a few minutes of fruitless banter, the old man produced a pouch and emptied its contents in the snow, there were nine yellow rocks, each about half the size of a man’s fist. The old man then picked up one of the rocks and walked about twenty feet from where the rest of the party stood and placed it upon a large boulder. He pulled an unknown object from one of his pockets and struck it hard upon the rock. My first officer reported that an amazing flame of great size and intensity ignited itself, the heat of which was comparable, as some present would say, to that of a fully engulfed barn. The flame burned brightly and could be seen easily from the ship. It maintained its full intensity for a time no less than nine and one half days before it finally sputtered out. I personally made several landings to inspect this miraculous phenomenon and was ultimately convinced that the remaining rocks would be more than sufficient to power our vessel for the entire return trip back to Great Britain. Providence seems to be with us in this new and amazing discovery!”
Once the captain and crew had finally arrived back in home port, rumor spread of a new form of energy and Omni Chemical quickly asserted itself. The company proffered a large settlement to the captain and crew for the exclusive rights to the island’s location and also took possession of the remaining few rocks. Omni scientists were put to work attempting to discover its secrets but, in the meantime, the young geologist would be placed on the island to survey and record the exact locations of the rocks for future excavations.
(ON THE ISLAND, TWO MONTHS LATER)
In stark contrast to the eye bleaching snow that spread out in all directions, a small wooden cabin now sits forlornly upon the frozen landscape, its smokestack emitting a wavy tail of heat that cuts through the wind chilled air like restless spirits departing for the skies. Inside the cramped building, the young geologist laid upon his bed with an open book by his side. It had been one week since he first set foot on the island and in that time he had already fulfilled his obligations to the company by locating a number of caves riddled with the yellow stone lodged within the porous volcanic rock. In fact, he could find no reason to return to the caves for his discoveries would be adequate enough to keep his company toiling away for many years to come.
After a few days of being sequestered in the tiny shack, he already felt claustrophobia’s grip upon him and decided it wise to leave the cabin each day for a few hours of exercise. On this particular afternoon, after returning from his walk he noticed an odd set of tracks leading from his cabin into another direction. Upon reaching the cabin door, he saw two large fish lying in the snow, dressed and ready for cooking. He smiled at the gracious gesture of his island neighbors and thought that he would have to make it a point to visit them in the near future to return their generosity, perhaps bring them some of his canned food as a gift. The canned food had already become monotonous and the thought of having fresh fish for dinner was a most welcomed change. On closer inspection of the fish, he noticed that they had been seasoned in a strange way. Tiny yellow particles of some unknown substance were liberally sprinkled throughout the fillets. He attempted to rinse them away, only resulting in lodging the particles even more persistently into the flesh. His hunger, however, exhorted him on and he prepared them for his evening meal. The taste, although somewhat unusual, was excellent and he ate his fill.
That evening, he lay upon his bed, fully content and weary from his earlier walk. Sleep was about to take hold of him when suddenly he heard what sounded like a cry upon the wind. He raised himself up slowly and cocked his head to listen, and after a few moments the sound repeated itself. A faint and distant plea for help could be heard upon the relentless torrents that whipped their way past his cabin. He was about to dismiss the sound to illusion until he heard it once again, this time more distinct.
He jumped to his feet and threw open the door. His eyes searched the icy landscape, “Hello!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Is anyone there?” Only silence. He walked to the other side of the cabin and repeated his call but only heard the continual shriek of wind in reply. Deciding that he had been mistaken, he made his way back inside and within a few minutes was fast asleep.
After a short while, Paul’s body began to twitch in an agitated manner and his face became flush with perspiration. In his dream-filled mind, he was once again back with his new bride on that fateful day three months earlier. They were journeying back from their honeymoon in Paris when a small animal scurried across the road. Michelle screamed out a warning. Paul swerved to miss the creature, but the car suddenly went into a terrifying spin and violently flipped over, tossing him from the car while his bride remained firmly tethered inside by her seat belt. The car eventually landed right side up and burst into flames. As he lay on the pavement about to lose consciousness, Paul could hear the horrible screams that emanated from the twisted and burning hunk of metal. With much effort, he managed to look upon the wreck. His last recollection was one that would haunt him forever: his beautiful bride’s melting face pressed against the passenger window, hysterically and horrifically pleading for her husband to save her.
He awoke with a scream and pulled his sweat drenched body upright and out of bed with a jolt. At that moment, he heard a voice beckoning him from far away, sending an icy chill through him and causing his heart to race uncontrollably. He hurriedly dressed and made his way out into the snow, his eyes were aflame with both promise and terror.
He screamed at the top of his lungs into the frozen wasteland. “Michelle! Michelle!”
A distant reply echoed his name faintly and he immediately raced in its direction. The voice became more insistent as he went, pleading his name in a mournful strain as he trudged violently against the snowy barrier that spread out before him. In his haste he repeatedly fell, but got back up with a frantic determination, for he now was certain that his bride had come back to him and no power on Earth would stop him from rescuing her. She would not be denied his salvation a second time!
He eventually came upon an opening in the side of a rock wall and hesitated for a moment not knowing which way to turn but was soon guided again by a soft sobbing coming from somewhere in the da
rk recess. He stepped into the blackness of the cave and at once remembered the few yellow rocks that he had stowed away for such a purpose. He knelt down and pulled from his pocket one of the smaller rocks and placed it on the ground. After a few moments of fumbling in another pocket, he produced a piece of flint and struck it hard upon the rock. A large yellow flame instantly hissed its way into existence, sending the darkness quickly fleeing before him.
He found himself staring into a cavernous room of ice and volcanic rock. As he turned his head from side to side searching this new wonder, he perceived a slight movement out the corner of his eye and he began moving cautiously in its direction. A muffled cry echoed against the walls as he heard once again the distraught voice pleading him forward.
A bone chilling scream then split the frigid air followed by the words, “Paul… please… dear God… save me!”
His heart nearly leapt from his chest as he yelled out, “Michelle! I’m here… I’m coming, sweetheart!”
Up ahead, he could see what appeared to be a shadow moving behind a slab of ice on a ledge high up the rock wall. He felt the urge to run but the path gradually narrowed itself and the steep incline leading to the ledge was treacherously slick. He nervously shuffled his way forward, grasping at the occasional outcropping of rock to steady himself.
The pathetic sobbing started once again, which only increased his anguish with every step. He stopped for a moment and looked up. He thought that he could now see the blurry outline of a woman’s face behind the sheet of ice directly ahead. The face began pressing its features against the frozen barrier as though searching for its would be savior.
“Michelle! I’m coming… I’m almost there!” he screamed out, but the face responded by receding back into the ice and becoming shadow once more.
Her diminishing features reignited his urgency and he attempted to hasten his steps but as he did, he lost his footing and fell on his backside. He experienced a moment of sheer terror as he realized that one side of the path had opened up to a black emptiness. One wrong step would mean certain death, but he was determined and quickly regained his composure. He clawed his way on hands and knees the final few yards until he finally reached the ledge itself. Perspiration and tears poured out from his body as he ever so carefully pulled himself up until he was flat against the ice wall.
“I’m here, darling!” he ecstatically screamed through the ice in triumph.
Behind the curtain of ice, a dark figure stirred at his announcement and slowly moved close to where he stood. The two faces seemed no more than a few inches apart but her features were obscured by an outer haze of frost. He frantically layered his breath upon the clouded ice and wiped it clean with the sleeve of his coat so that he could see more clearly but the shock of what appeared before him sent him reeling backward in terror. It was not the soft and gentle face of the beautiful young woman he so lovingly remembered and expected to see; instead it was a gruesome figure wearing a mask of torn and charred flesh! A blood curdling scream then issued forth from the ghastly image, causing him to take another step backward, sealing his fate forever as he slipped over the side and plunged into eternal darkness.