The Earth Is (Not) a Cold Dead Place

Chapter 11

They both took control of a snowmobile, leaving a single one behind at the vault. Tibbi had left a clear enough trail for them to chase, as straight as ever. They followed a winding path down the mountain, moving considerably slower than Tibbi must have. Many precious minutes passed by as they clumsily drove through the snow. Approaching what once had been the coast, they took a left turn onto the main road. Up ahead, there was a big terminal and what could only have been a control tower. They got to the runway of the abandoned airport and went off-road, chasing Tibbi's perfect tracks. Near the closest end of the airstrip the tracks took a sharp turn, and they could see why.

Just beyond the tarmac, where there had once been rocks and grass, was now a mess of twisted metal. Smoke started to get picked up by the wind as they drove up to the destruction and jumped off their vehicles. The third snowmobile stood right next to the airplane, which was slightly skewed to the left. One of its wings had snapped and the single propeller had plowed into the ground in front of it to the point of disintegration. The landing gear was unrecognizable as such.

John ran ahead, but stopped as he got to the cockpit. He hadn't brought a torch with him, so it was hard to see anything but snow and vague outlines. His eyes strained, and through the broken glass he saw that Simon was still inside. Inspecting the crashed vehicle, he found the origin of the smoke that started to fill the air. In the passenger seat just behind the pilot, among the three familiar boxes, a fire started to form. It smelled like charcoal—presumably only the books had caught fire. For now.

Beth walked up to John with two flashlights in her hands. They both took off their helmets. She also assessed the situation, this time with the help of her flashlight.

"There's blood on those boxes, and they're no longer sealed. It's all over the cockpit as well, probably Tibbi trying to get Simon out. What the hell happened here?"

They took a closer look and saw some faint red stains in the snow, leading away from the crash site and towards the mountain that contained the Arkive. A direct path up instead of the swerving road that gently descended down from the vault to the airport and into the town of Longyearbyen.

"Follow that trail and find Tibbi. I'm getting Simon out of there," Beth said while handing over one of the flashlights.

John decided not to take another look at the cockpit with the extra light provided by his torch. He had the feeling he wouldn't like what he'd see. Beth placed her flashlight on the ground in order to illuminate the crash site and still have both of her hands at her disposal. She approached the cockpit. John wandered off towards the third snowmobile. Upon closer inspection he noticed that the key was missing from its ignition. The ground surrounding the vehicle looked disturbed, the white carpet on top displaced by frantic hands in the dark.

"Go! It won't be long until this whole thing goes up in flames," she yelled.

John ignited his torch and ran through the snow, chasing the red spots as they got fainter and fainter.

* * *

When the crimson trail stopped, he followed a different, more scattered one. First a boot, then its partner. Then multiple pairs of socks, as John walked up a hill. Near the top, the articles of clothing were closer together. John found a coat, identical to the one he was wearing, except the fabric was ripped across the arms with a hint of red along the ragged edges. The trail ended with what John could recognize as Tibbi's sweater, an extra shirt, and a thick pair of pants. He pointed his flashlight past the pile of clothes and saw the footsteps in the snow change into lines, like someone had crawled from this point on. This did not go on for long.

He found Tibbi stripped down to his thermal underwear. His body laid on its side, curled up in a ball. His arms had slashes along their length, while dried blood sealed the wounds shut. John took slow, deep breaths through his nose as he approached the body. Tibbi's eyes were open, but they were filled with the same emptiness that John had seen in the tunnel back in his hometown. His hands held something close to his chest, but John couldn't see what it was. He grabbed the arms and folded them outwards. There was an unexpected lack of resistance.