Below Zero Read online
PRAISE FOR DAN SMITH’S BOOKS
Dan Smith’s pacey prose gallops along, capturing the reader and entangling us in the puzzle plot.
THE SCOTSMAN
Intense, captivating, and distinctive.
KIRKUS
. . . opens with a bang and keeps up the breathless pace until the very end.
BOOKLIST
. . . full of action and adventure with plenty of hair-raising moments. There are times you are almost too worried to read on!
PRIMARY TIMES
Filled with action and tense situations, this story will keep readers engaged from its explosive beginning to its dramatic ending . . .
SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL
The story is fast-paced, extremely well written and is packed with unrelenting action.
BOOKTRUST
. . . an intense, thought-provoking, and deeply satisfying read.
TEACH PRIMARY
A MESSAGE FROM CHICKEN HOUSE
Frozen wastes, a shadow growing beneath the ice, a family marooned in the white wilderness . . . and tiny, creepy mechanical spiders. Yes, Dan Smith is back! This is a thriller with some exhilarating high stakes in the hands of one of the very best writers for young people – nobody else is this good at scary action. Dig in: you’ll need that icepick too.
BARRY CUNNINGHAM
Publisher
Chicken House
Contents
Chapter 1: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, 3 Days Ago
Chapter 2: Approaching Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 3: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, 21 Hours Ago
Chapter 4: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 5: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 6: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 7: January Island, South China Sea, 17 Hours Ago
Chapter 8: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 9: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 10: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 11: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 12: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 13: November Island, Indian Ocean, 10 Hours Ago
Chapter 14: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 15: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 16: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, 22 Hours Ago
Chapter 17: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 18: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, 22 Hours Ago
Chapter 19: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, 22 Hours Ago
Chapter 20: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, 22 Hours Ago
Chapter 21: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, 21 Hours Ago
Chapter 22: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, NOW
Chapter 23: January Island, South China Sea, 2 Hours Ago
Chapter 24: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 25: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 26: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 27: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 28: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 29: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 30: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 31: Approaching Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 32: January Island, South China Sea, Now
Chapter 33: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 34: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 35: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 36: Outpost Zero, Antarctica, Now
Chapter 37: January Island, South China Sea, Now
Chapter 38: West Allen School, 2 Weeks After the Incident at Outpost Zero
Acknowledgements
Copyright
For Carolyn,
who helped me get from there to here.
Also by Dan Smith
Big Game
Boy X
My Brother’s Secret
My Friend the Enemy
OUTPOST ZERO, ANTARCTICA
3 DAYS AGO
There was something happening at Outpost Zero. Something that wasn’t supposed to be happening, and Sofia Diaz wanted to get to the bottom of it.
Curiosity killed the cat, she thought as she throttled the engine and accelerated across the ice. Yeah, well. Satisfaction brought it back. And the only thing that was going to satisfy Sofia Diaz was finding out exactly what those BioMesa guys were doing at The Chasm.
Outpost Zero was run by the Exodus Project, and was supposed to be just thirty-two people – eight families – training for a life on Mars. Sofia had been in Antarctica with her mum and dad, and her brother Pablo, for two months now. Two months without sunlight because she had persuaded her family to join the Exodus Project. But a few weeks after Sofia and the other seven families arrived at the base, some new guys turned up. Eight of them, working for a research company called BioMesa – but their work didn’t have anything to do with Mars or the Exodus Project. They had come to Antarctica because of The Chasm – a huge crack that had appeared in the ice several months ago, not far from Outpost Zero. And Sofia wanted to know exactly what they were up to, but when they were in the main part of the base – The Hub – the BioMesa guys kept themselves to themselves, and when Sofia asked the other families about them, she was met with blank faces and gently shaking heads.
‘Don’t ask,’ everyone said. ‘Just pretend they’re not here.’
But they were there, wearing their bright red Outpost Zero jackets, with the black BioMesa logo on the sleeve instead of an Exodus Project badge like everyone else. And they left at the same time every morning to ride out to The Chasm, and they came back at the same time every evening. Except for yesterday. Yesterday, they came back three hours later than usual, and when Sofia asked where they had been, everyone clammed up and told her not to ask.
At fourteen years old, Sofia was the youngest member on base, and she was expected to do as she was told. But Sofia hardly ever did what was expected, and never did as she was told, so she waited until the BioMesa guys had returned to the base, before hurrying back to her room. On her way there, she bumped into a young, bearded man with the name ‘Jennings’ printed on the chest of his blue BioMesa sweater. He was coming back from the kitchen area, carrying a mug of coffee.
‘No harm done,’ he flicked the splash of coffee from his hand and smiled.
He seemed nice, and Sofia almost felt guilty for bumping into him.
Almost.
In her bedroom, Sofia felt a nervous thrill of excitement as she pulled on her Extreme Cold Weather gear. She slipped out through the emergency exit at the end of the West Tunnel, jumped down on to the ice, and sneaked round to the Arctic Cat snowmobiles parked at the front of Outpost Zero. Sofia chose the furthest snowmobile, and pushed it away from the base. As soon as she was out of earshot, she started the engine.
No one saw or heard her leave.
Soon the base became nothing more than a few glittering lights behind her. With a surge of adrenaline, Sofia kept going until the dim red glow of the beacons came into view. They marked the BioMesa research area. When she arrived, Sofia switched off the snowmobile and pulled Jennings’ access card from her pocket. She approached a door that was built into the towering ice wall in front of her.
Too easy, she smiled to herself. He’ll think he lost it in the snow.
She wiped ice from the scanner on the door, and touched the card against it.
The door slid open and Sofia stepped inside.
Now let’s see what you guys have been up to.
She followed a tunnel down to a square cavern in the ice. The right side of the giant room was home to a bank of computers. The left side, close to where Sofia was standing, was latticed with a grid of rectangular holes cut into the ground.
Like graves, she thought. Cold graves.
At the far end of the cavern, the world dropped away to never-ending darkness. The Chasm. This wasn’t the first time Sofia had seen The Chasm, but something about it drew her towards the edge. She wanted to know what was in its hidden depths. As she came closer, though, she glanced into the nearest grave and saw something that made her stop.
It was filled with long ice cores; cylinders drilled from deep below the surface. They were the kind of thing scientists got nerdy about when they were researching climate change. Boring stuff, as far as Sofia was concerned, except the cores in this grave were different from the cores in all the others.
Something was frozen inside them.
Sofia got down on all fours and lifted out the nearest core. It was inside a clear plastic tube with the BioMesa logo, and ‘#31’ printed on the side. She twisted it this way and that, but all she could see were dark shapes about the size of the tip of her thumb, stuck inside the ice. There was one close to the end. So close, in fact, that a little bit of scraping with a sharp instrument might . . . just . . . ease it out . . . Sofia took off one of her clumsy gloves and fished a Gerber scout knife from her pocket. She flicked open the blade and used it to pop open the seal on the tube. She slid out the core and scraped at the ice until the small black object was protruding from the end of the core. Sofia used her fingers to loosen it and pull it free.
She held it in the palm of her hand and inspected her treasure.
It was actually more brown than black. And now she could see it better, she thought it looked like a cocoon. Or a pupa – the kind of thing a beetle would grow inside. It was cold against the skin on the palm of her hand, but the longer she held it, the more she had the sense that it was growing warm.
And when it moved, Sofia jumped so suddenly she almost dropped it.
Her heart was thumping, her blood rushing in her ears, and she held her hand further away from her face, as if something was about to burst from the pupa and . . .
And what? It’s tiny. What could it do? Don’t be such a scaredy-cat.
She smiled to herself and slipped the object into her pocket. She’d take it back and show Doc Blair; he’d find out what it was. In fact, why not take the whole ice core back to Doc Blair? There was something strange going on here, and it wasn’t cool that BioMesa was keeping secrets from the people living on the base. It was not cool at all. The others needed to know about this.
Sofia slipped the ice core back into its container and made her way to the door. Outside, she put the plastic tube on the back of the Arctic Cat, pulled her goggles over her eyes, and started the engine.
As she accelerated across the snow towards the lights of Outpost Zero, Sofia thought about the grave filled with ice cores, and wondered if the BioMesa people would notice one was missing. But the more she thought about it, the less she cared. What could they do? She wasn’t scared of them.
But she would be scared.
Later.
She would be scared to death.
APPROACHING OUTPOST ZERO, ANTARCTICA
NOW
The DHC-6 Twin Otter aircraft lurched and rattled with a violent sensation of falling that startled Zak from his book. He had been trying to lose himself in the adventure story in front of him, but it was becoming harder and harder as they flew further into the storm.
Everything about the plane was ‘no-frills’ and rickety. Half the interior was lined with fold-down seats – six on either side, facing each other – and the rest was filled with steel cargo containers secured with nylon webbing straps. The exposed metal walls and floor were freezing to the touch.
The plane shook again, dropping in the thin air, and Zak’s heart dropped with it. Cold and fear were all he could feel now. His hands were shaking so much there was no point trying to read. Even the latest Jackson Jones adventure couldn’t take his mind off it, so he closed his book and stared at the cover.
Jackson Jones and the Ghosts of the Antarctic.
In the picture, two brave adventurers were standing in front of a jagged cave cut into a wall of ice. One of the adventurers was Jackson Jones himself; wearing a heavy orange parka similar to the one Zak was wearing right now. Jackson was also dressed in black windproof trousers, and had a black hood over his head. He was stepping back in surprise, with one arm raised, brandishing a vicious ice axe. Following close behind was a boy dressed the same. The cave was dark, with a clawed hand gripping one side of it, as if something was about to leap out. From the black shadows inside, a pair of glowing red eyes glared at the approaching adventurers. But Jackson Jones and his companion weren’t afraid. Jackson Jones was never afraid – something Zak Reeves wished he could say about himself.
Zak held the book flat and jammed both hands between his knees.
The ancient aircraft carried just five of them, including the pilot – the only five people crazy enough to be flying out to Antarctica in the middle of the worst storm in years.
Sitting opposite, Zak’s sister May was also holding a book – one of those relationship books she always read – but Zak could tell she wasn’t concentrating on it. She looked ill at the best of times, with all the pale make-up and black eyeliner she liked to wear, but she looked even worse right now. The colour had drained from her face and her brow was scrunched into a deep scowl. Resting on her thigh, the index and middle fingers of her right hand were crossed.
May was fifteen – three years older than Zak – and she was one of those kids at school who was proud to be different. ‘Why fit in when you can stand out?’ she always said. May liked to wear black. In fact, she loved to wear black. Black jeans (ripped, of course), black T-shirt with either a band logo or a picture from a horror film on it, and a black leather jacket. She had three piercings in each ear – Mum wouldn’t let her have her nose or lip pierced – and she darkened her eyes with thick eyeliner. Her black hair usually hung down and hid most of her face, and she could scowl like a champion. May called herself an ‘emo-punk-half-Chinese-horror-fan’, and she was unlike anybody else at West Allen School; she ‘customized’ her uniform with badges, covered her books in pictures cut from horror film magazines, and carried a backpack with The Evil Dead printed on it. She had a handful of friends but most of the other kids thought she was weird, and kept out of her way. One girl in particular was just plain mean because May wasn’t like her and her friends. Vanessa Morton-Chandler said nasty things to May and spread rumours behind her back. May usually just made some kind of sarcastic remark, gave Vanessa a withering look and did a good job of pretending it didn’t bother her, but Zak knew it hurt her when they were unkind. That’s why the black clothes and the leather were important to May; they were her armour.
Zak would never admit it to her, but he thought his sister was cool.
When she caught sight of him watching her, May brushed away the wisps of straight black hair falling over her dark eyes. She tightened her bow-shaped mouth and nodded once.
Beside her, Dad took off his glasses and winked at Zak. ‘You OK, my young Padawan?’ The words came out as a wispy cloud of warm breath in the cold air. ‘Quite an adventure we’re having, eh?’ He pinched the bridge of his nose, then put his glasses back on. ‘And we haven’t even got there yet. You’ll have a good story to tell your friends when you get back.’
‘I’d rather tell them about the sun in St Lucia,’ May said. ‘Can’t we just turn around and—’
‘We come up on it now.’ The pilot’s thick Russian accent crackled over the intercom system. ‘You will be seeing Outpost Zero at any moment.’
The plane shook again and Zak gritted his teeth, trying not to think about dying. He’d had enough of thinking about that, and he was sick of it. It would be kind of funny, though, if after everything the doctors had said, he ended up dying in a plane crash. Funny strange, that is, not funny ha ha. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that; all of them dying together in some kind of horrible accident. It was supposed to be just him, slowly fading away in a hospital bed, the disease eating away at his brain. Za
k was supposed to leave them behind, so he was sure that today they were all going to be fine. It was just turbulence. In a storm. Over Antarctica. No problem. Nothing to worry about.
Yeah, right.
He glanced at Mum, sitting beside him with her lips clamped so tight it made the tiny zigzag scar just below her nose go white. The scar had come from the time she fell off her bike when she was growing up in Hong Kong – Zak had heard the story a million times – and when it went white, it was always a dead giveaway that she was either worried or annoyed. The usual twinkle in her brown eyes was dull too, and when she smoothed her dark hair back from her narrow face, she forced a smile at him. ‘Be there soon.’
Zak turned to watch through the window behind him. On the other side of the small circle of glass, the propeller was a blur. Beyond that, there was nothing. Just black. No light at all. Zak knew that when the sun had dipped below the horizon at Outpost Zero three weeks ago, the people who lived there were prepared for a long night. It would be months before the sun would rise again. If the sky was clear, Zak guessed there would have been stars, but for now the storm smothered everything.
Dad had told Zak that Outpost Zero was in a natural dent in the landscape – like the top of a long-dead volcano. It was a kind of a shallow bowl, with low mountains to the west and a wall of ice to the east, before the world dropped away into The Chasm. But from what Zak could see, they might as well have been over London – or Mars, for that matter – because there was nothing to see but black. Or, as May would say, there was literally nothing to see but black.
‘We are heading down,’ the pilot said. ‘Into the storm. It will be bumpy. Ve-ry bumpy.’ As soon as the words left his mouth, the aircraft lurched to one side and dropped.
Zak’s insides squashed up into his chest, and his bum lifted away from the torn padding of the seat. The safety belt dug into his waist, keeping him from tumbling into the cabin, then he thumped back down as the whole plane shook like a washing machine on full spin.