The Thing 3: Assimilation✔️

Chapter 04: Salvage

Blake gasped awake.

For a moment, just a moment, he had no idea where he was. He was faintly cold and sticky, he'd sweat a great deal during the night, he was not just sticky but practically soaked. He pulled the blankets away from him and sat up, looking around a small concrete room cramped with an untidy stack of opened and unopened boxes along the opposite wall. The only light came from an electric lantern on the floor beside the mattress he slept on.

All at once, it came back to him and Blake let out a heavy sigh and rubbed at his eyes. He couldn't remember if he'd had any nightmares while he'd slept, but he sure felt shitty enough. The positive of all this was that he no longer felt bone-deep weary. He must've slept for quite a while. That made him suddenly paranoid. What if something had happened to him in his sleep? Or the base? What if he was the last survivor?

Blake tried to make himself calm down. First things first: a test. Just to be sure. But how? He doubted there were any kits around...he thought about it for a moment, then came up with a quick idea. What was happening in those test kits? Blood was being exposed to a chemical. But a chemical wasn't the only way to get a response. Fire would do just fine. He got up and spent a few moments searching through the boxes.

He ended up coming up with a few useful tools: a scalpel and a lighter. He took a moment to give himself a little cut on his fingertip, squeezed out a few drops of blood onto the floor, then he hit the lighter and applied the flame to the blood. Nothing happened. He let out a small sigh of relief, then found some gauze from the same kit he'd discovered the scalpel in and held it against his cut. Slowly, Blake stood up and stretched.

Various joints popped and he realized he was starving again, and thirsty. How long had he been out? Before he figured that out, he needed another shower. He reeked. Blake gathered up his cold weather gear, some fresh under clothes and his blowtorch, then unlocked the door and stepped out into the door beyond. He listened for a moment and heard MacReady and North talking about something. Everything was probably fine. Probably.

He took another shower and dressed, this time putting on all the gear, including the coat because it was getting cold in here and he was likely going back outside. After that, he made another trip to the mess hall, scarfing down two cans of beans, a can of peaches and some canned beef, then two bottles of water. Once that was done, he started feeling human again. Which sucked, since he was getting ready to go volunteer for whatever job needed to be done. Heading back out into that cold or the darkness of the tunnels...

He wasn't looking forward to it.

But it needed to be done.

As he stepped out of the mess hall and made his way back to the central room, he ran into MacReady, North and Weldon.

"Blake, just in time. You've been out for about thirteen hours," MacReady said.

"Holy shit...sorry. I didn't know I was down for so long."

"It's fine, after everything you've been through, I figured you were right, you needed real sleep. But you're just in time for our test. We do one every two hours. Peltola! Get in here, testing time!" MacReady called.

The frowning engineer appeared from the corridor that led to the generator room. "Let's get this over with," he muttered.

MacReady held out a scalpel and a blowtorch. As Blake had just done, he cut his fingertip, let some drip onto a nearby table, then touched the tip of the blowtorch, which was steaming hot, to the blood. A little puff of smoke escaped and nothing more. MacReady did this for each of them, and each of them passed.

"Good," he said. "Now, to business. I'm calling a meeting. Peltola, you've been compiling a list of all the shit we need for our new base here. What's it say?"