An hour and twenty-one minutes later, we spotted the base in the horizon, but no soldiers guarded it, so we landed by a frozen lake thirty-five minutes away from Nanisivik’s airport and skulked our way toward the base, in case it was a trap. Pillared right in the center of Nanisivik, the USN’ military Arctic base served as a reminder of the mining town that Nanisivik used to be, as a reminder of the life Nanisivik used to sustain. Heavy snow mantled its roads, and solely a handful of silos and a post office rested upon its soil that still reeked of aratium. Only plots of long forsaken single-story houses that time and nature had spared, that kept alive the memory of a town that at its peak, supported over a hundred thousand miners who extracted the mineral from which Eugenex was derived. The main source of employment in all of Nunavut.

But once aratium had become a mere dream, only the nightmare of unemployment and failed explorations remained. Once aratium was no more in Nanisivik, abandonment became its destiny, as it had been before, as perhaps it was always intended, since not even the blades of icy wind that lacerated us granted us a second of reprieve. But the airport still stood, intact. So I always hoped that Nanisivik was destined for more. I always hoped that it’d support life. We had braved nature’s toughness before, and always survived. Always won at the end. The Rim being the perfect example. But it still clouted me that I had never been there.

But then I saw something that blasted my chest. A soldier emerged from the base and tossed a corpse into the snow, buried it, as if it were a mere critter. Flame blades seared my veins. And I did not shiver. I did not feel the wind. Only wrath. Which Girgor strengthened when he hauled me into the snow. Terrance knew better. He had remained still. Unnoticed.

“What is it about you, Girgor?” I murmured so the soldier didn’t hear us. “The last time you did that someone ended up dead. You’d better talk to a priest to confess you, but I won’t—”

“Wait a second, you impudent ragazzo.” He drew out his tranquilizer gun.

Terrance shook his head. “Rashness will be your doom, Cael. Friendly advice.”

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

We discussed our strategy and executed as planned. I skulked beneath the snow toward the soldier who had marched to the base’s entrance. Biolocked. I prayed he didn’t notice me. The scanner analyzed his fingerprints and retina. It cleared. The door opened. But the soldier did not enter. He kicked me. But I didn’t even feel pain. I just hauled his hand and snatched off his glove as if I wanted to sever his hand. I knew I would not. Because of the Eugenex.

He then seized my neck and was about to crack my spine. I caught a glimpse of the soldier’s eyes. Which I thought would have glinted wrath, but they didn’t. He seemed sad. Mournful. I caught a glance of the corpse he buried. And it was not a prisoner, but a soldier. One of his own. Esne most likely. But then I spotted a pustule in his hand. And I understood why. He didn’t care that much about his colleague, but that he would die as well. Had they run out of antivirals, medicines? Or was he not ranked high enough to get them? I prayed for the latter. The lives of everyone in Pang depended on it.

Girgor and Terrance acted as we had planned. Just before the soldier was about to kill me, Terrance pummeled his face so he’d let go of my neck and Girgor shot him. He then plummeted unconscious. Soon to die. But I did not feel sorry for him. And did not mind. Not after what he had done. I would save his prisoners first. Then those in Pang, and finally if he was still alive by that time, I’d save him. I even wanted to bury him in snow as he had done his colleague, but I did not. Would have been wrong. And a waste of time.

I wiped off the pus that leaked on my neck. One of his pustules must have exploded when he snatched me. But it did not gross me out. I just prayed I was immune. Or highly resistant. No point in worrying if I would die. At least not when we had people to save right in front of us. We used his hand to open the door again, which had shut due to safety reasons. I just sneered. What was the point? Did massacring Naturals need security? The door opened and we stepped inside.

Death welcomed us, guised as a shoal of artificial light encased by steel walls.

----------------------------------------

Hi, my fellow bridgers! Thank you so much for reading The Last God. It means a lot to me that you took time to read my story. Being able to share this story with others has been an amazing experience.

I will appreciate your comments and reviews because my work is intended for you. I invite you to share this experience in social media through the links below. Every single review or share matters.

Thanks again for reading. May God bless you. Have a great day!