The Darwin Effect (11 page)

It only felt like a few minutes later when her eyes popped open again. She heard a sound right behind her in the room … it sounded like the crinkling of plastic.

• • •

Cromartie tossed and turned on his bed, his body twisted together with the white sheets, his skin glistening with sweat.

He was dreaming again.

It was the same dream he’d had before. He saw the two men in dark suits and ties, both of them hidden in gray shadows, both of them talking to each other. He couldn’t make out what they were saying right now, it was like he was falling deeper and deeper under the spell of the anesthesia or whatever they had used on him in the cryochamber. He couldn’t move his body, but he could still feel the cold air on his skin

Cromartie tried to hold on, tried to stay conscious as the fog sucked at him. He tried to concentrate on what the two men were saying, and now he could make out bits and pieces of their conversation. One of the men was talking now, and Cromartie was pretty sure he was the same man who had compared the human race to a virus that kills its host. “This is the only way we’ll be able to survive as a species …”

But then he couldn’t make out the rest of what the man was saying.

Then he heard MAC’s voice again—the computer’s even and emotionless tone. MAC’s words seemed so loud in Cromartie’s ears like MAC was close to him, yet at the same time his words seemed to be coming from so far away.

“You have to find the clues to your salvation, Cromartie,” MAC told him. “I’m afraid it’s the only way you’re going to survive …”

Cromartie wanted to respond to MAC in the dream. He wanted to ask the computer what it was talking about. He wanted to demand answers. But he couldn’t open his mouth to speak; he couldn’t get his vocal chords to work.

Then MAC screamed in Cromartie’s ear. It was a loud, high-pitched scream … like a woman’s scream.

Cromartie jumped awake in his bed, sweating and breathing hard. He looked around at his murky room.

Had the dream woken him?

No, it was a scream—a woman’s scream. He heard the scream again.

Sanders was screaming.

• • •

Sanders lay on her bed, still facing the wall, her eyes wide open. She was certain that she’d heard the noise this time—the unmistakable sound of a crinkling plastic sheet.

She turned over quickly in her bed, a panicked twist of her body like an alligator rolling over in the water. She saw Butler standing right beside her bed. Pieces of the plastic that Butler’s body had been wrapped up in hung off of her in tatters, blood smeared all over the strips of clear plastic, blood caked on her body. Her face was pale and slack, and her eyes were blank and milky white. Her mouth hung open all the way—it was just a gaping black maw.

Sanders tried to scream, but only a hoarse wheeze came out of her constricted throat.

Butler managed to take a step towards the side of the bed even though some of the plastic was still wrapped around both of her legs. She reached out towards Sanders with one hand. Blood was crusted around her wrist, and her hand was bent down at an odd angle because the slash in her wrist had been so deep it had almost severed her hand completely. The plastic crinkled even louder as she raised her arm higher, her hand hanging down.

Sanders scrambled back on the bed towards the wall, trying to get away from the monstrosity beside her bed. No coherent thoughts ran through her mind as she backpedaled … her only thought was to get as far away from this dead thing as she possibly could.

And then she screamed.

• • •

Cromartie was the first one in Sanders’ room. She was in her bed, cowered against the wall, crying. His first thought was that Ward had tried to attack her, but he didn’t see Ward in the room and he hadn’t seen him out in the corridor.

He rushed up to Sanders and grabbed her arms gently, trying to calm her down. “What is it, Sanders?”

Sanders wasn’t looking at Cromartie, she was staring at something in the room that he couldn’t see. “She … she …”

Cromartie shook Sanders slightly, trying to get her eyes to focus on him, to see him in front of her. “Sanders!”

She finally looked at Cromartie and she was suddenly calm. “It was Butler,” she whispered. “She was in here.”

Cromartie let her arms go and stood up straight next to her bed, staring down at her.

Abraham, Ward, and Rolle plowed into Sanders’ room all at the same time. “What’s going on in here?” Ward said.

“Nothing,” Cromartie said as he glanced at the three men. “Sanders just had a nightmare, that’s all.”

Ward sighed. “I’m glad I got woke up for that.” He left the room.

Abraham stared at Cromartie like he was trying to decipher some kind of deeper and hidden meaning in his words. “You sure she’s okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“Okay,” Abraham said and nodded. He gestured at Rolle to leave with him.

“Close the door, please,” Cromartie asked them as they stepped out of the room.

Rolle hesitated at the door, his hand on the door handle. He looked at Sanders like he was making sure it was okay for him to leave, like he wanted to hear it directly from her.

She nodded at him, indicating that she was fine.

Rolle closed the door softly.

Cromartie looked back at Sanders when everyone was gone and the door was shut. He sat down on the edge of her bed. She was still close to the wall, her back against it as she hugged her knees, rocking just a bit.

“It was just a nightmare,” Cromartie said. “That’s all. Butler wasn’t here. She’s dead.”

Sanders looked at Cromartie with wide eyes rimmed in tears.

It was strange for Cromartie to see this strong woman reduced to this kind of terror.

“It was so real,” she said. “I heard her before I even turned around and saw her. I could hear the plastic rustling. I think I could even smell her … smell her blood.”

Cromartie remained at the end of the bed, but he laid a gentle hand on her knee. “It was just a dream. I promise.”

Sanders nodded and took a deep breath. “I know.”

He took his hand away from her knee. He didn’t know if he should try to comfort her more or not.

They stared at each other for a long moment. He thought Sanders should talk about her dream, but he didn’t want to force her if she didn’t want to.

“It was just a nightmare,” Cromartie said again in what he hoped was a comforting voice. “I’ll talk to MAC about it. I’ve been having some strange dreams lately. Maybe our dreams are another side effect from the cryosleep.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Sanders said, but she didn’t look convinced.

“Do you want me to stay with you for a while?” Cromartie asked her.

She shook her head no and sighed. “I’ll be okay.”

Cromartie wasn’t sure if he should get up and leave. Sanders stared at him like she wanted to say something else.

“What is it?” he asked her.

“Is there any way …” she began and then stopped … hesitating.

Cromartie was patient, waiting for her to finish.

“Never mind,” Sanders said. “It’s stupid.”

“What?”

Sanders sighed and looked away from Cromartie’s gaze. “Is there any way you could go and check the storage rooms?”

Cromartie just stared at her.

“I told you it was stupid,” she said and tried a smile, but it just made her look more miserable and afraid.

Cromartie softened. He nodded. “I’ll go check it out after everyone else goes back to bed.”

“You don’t have to. I know it’s dumb.”

“No. I’ll check. Just try to get some sleep.”

Sanders lay back down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Cromartie stood up and pulled the white sheet up over her body.

“I’ve been asleep for a hundred years,” Sanders said. “I think I’ve gotten all the sleep I need for a while.”

Cromartie smiled at her. “You sure you don’t want me to stay a while?”

Sanders was silent for a moment, but then she shook her head. “No. But thank you for offering.”

He smiled at her. He left the light on over the desk, and then he left her room.

Outside in the hallway, Cromartie closed the door to Sanders’ room softly. Then he looked up and down the corridor. Everyone else was either back in their rooms or somewhere else on the ship, but they weren’t in the hallway. This was his chance to slip down the stairs to the lower level and keep his promise to Sanders. He didn’t want anyone seeing him go down there, he didn’t want to answer their questions, and he didn’t want them to know about Sanders’ nightmare, about her seeing Butler standing beside her bed in her room.

Maybe it was stupid to check on this for Sanders, but if it made her feel better then Cromartie wanted to do it.

He flipped on lights as he descended the metal stairwell, and the lights lit up at the bottom of the steps automatically. He walked through the small anteroom that opened up to the storage area.

Moments later he was walking down the center aisle. The lights only reached so far down here and the far end of the aisle was hidden in shadows.

Even before he got halfway down the aisle, he knew something was terribly wrong. But he made himself walk all the way to the end because he wanted to be absolutely sure about what he was seeing.

Butler’s body wasn’t there anymore … it was gone.

C
romartie rushed up from the lower storage level and hurried down the corridor to their quarters. He banged on all of the doors, waking all of them up and declaring an emergency meeting in the dining area.

Ward scoffed at Cromartie’s demand for a meeting.

“Butler’s body is gone,” Cromartie told Ward who stood in his doorway with no shirt on. Ward was suddenly tense; the sarcastic smile that he always wore slipped away.

Sanders stood at her doorway. She inhaled sharply at Cromartie’s words, her eyes wide and frightened.

“What do you mean her body’s gone?” Ward said.

“Somebody must’ve moved Butler’s body,” Cromartie answered Ward, but he looked right at Sanders who still stood in her doorway. “It’s the only
logical
explanation.” He wanted to stifle Sanders’ fears as quickly as possible. He knew that she believed Butler had somehow rose from the dead and came into her room, and he wanted her to see that the idea of that was impossible.

“Everyone in the dining area,” Cromartie said and marched down the hall, not waiting for the others to join him.

“No,” Ward said. His voice stopped Cromartie in his tracks. Ward looked at the others who were now gathered in the corridor. “Let’s go down to the storage area. See if her body’s really gone.”

Cromartie felt like running up to Ward and decking him, but he kept his cool. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“You think I would lie about this?”

No answer from Ward, but he glanced at the others to gauge their reactions.

“Fine,” Cromartie said and walked towards Ward, and then he brushed past him. “Let’s all go down there together. All of you can see for yourself.”

• • •

Moments later they were all gathered at the end of the aisle in the storage area, all of them underneath the dull lights that barely reached all the way back here.

Cromartie watched Sanders who stared down at the metal floor where Butler’s body used to be. He could see the fear in her eyes, but she also seemed to be considering this more rationally now.

“And you’re absolutely sure this is where you left Butler’s body?” Ward challenged.

“Yes,” Cromartie said and glanced at Abraham for help.

Abraham nodded in agreement.

“There are other aisles down here,” Ward said.

“Look around down here if you want to,” Cromartie said. “But this is where we left her body.”

“Maybe Butler wasn’t dead,” Abraham suggested.

Rolle shook his head, immediately dismissing that idea. “I checked her vitals. She didn’t have a pulse, and with all of that blood … she was definitely dead.”

Abraham shrugged at Rolle. “Maybe you made a mistake. We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately—”

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Rolle snapped. “I’m a doctor. I know what the hell I’m doing. I know if someone has a pulse or not.”

“Okay,” Abraham said, raising his hands up in surrender. “Fine.”

Cromartie watched the exchange between Rolle and Abraham. He was a little surprised at Rolle’s outburst just like he’d been surprised by Abraham’s sudden anger down here in the storage room earlier. Maybe neither one of these men was as mild as they pretended to be. Or maybe it didn’t take either one of them much to snap. Maybe it didn’t take any of them much to snap—even himself. He wondered again if there might be other side effects from the suspended animation besides the short-term memory loss that MAC had already told them about, other side effects that MAC wasn’t divulging.

What else wasn’t MAC telling them?
he wondered.

“We carried Butler’s body all the way down here to the storage level and she never moved in our arms once,” Cromartie reminded Abraham. “She had to have been dead.”

“Okay, then …” Abraham said. He seemed a little frustrated even though he was capitulating. “You’re right. She was dead. So that means that somebody must’ve moved her body. Like you said, it’s the only logical explanation.”

Cromartie nodded, breathing a little easier now that everyone was calming down a little. “This isn’t a gigantic ship; her body has to be around here somewhere. We need to find it.”

“What about the airlock?” Abraham said.

Everyone looked at him.

“What are you talking about?” Cromartie asked.

“Maybe Butler’s body is in the airlock,” Abraham said.

“Why would you say that?” Rolle asked him.

Abraham looked right at Ward. “He wanted to put her body in the airlock earlier. Shoot her out into space.”

Sanders was ready to jump right on that idea. “That’s right. We should go check the airlock. See if Ward stuffed her body in there.”

Ward stared at Rolle, and then he looked at the others. He tried a lopsided smile and shook his head like the idea was absurd. “Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t do that.”

“You suggested it,” Rolle reminded everyone.