Eileen owed Slauson ten bucks. She’d taken one look at the deserted, icy expanse that stretched on for miles and miles before them and believed they would find nothing but ice and snow. Always up for a challenge, Slauson immediately bet her ten dollars that they would find something. Eileen didn’t even think he believed they would, but he enjoyed contesting her every chance he got.

Now Eileen stared up in awe, taking in the colossal metal contraption in front of them. Captain Harlow had said it was a ship from back in the Old Days, though it looked too advanced to be something from the past.

Around Eileen, teams were getting ready to head inside. Explorers suited up, scientists pulled out their devices and soldiers readied their weapons. Eileen was an analyst, so she didn’t fall under any of those categories. Her only job was to wait out here for the others to finish their investigation and come out so she could analyze the data they’d gathered.

One by one, the teams slipped inside–the last to go was Slauson, who gave Eileen a little wave and rubbed his fingers together, making the sign for “money”. Eileen rolled her eyes, then Slauson winked and disappeared into the yawning black opening of the ship.

Eileen set up the folding lawn chair she’d brought along with her and sat down, making herself comfortable. She knew from previous excursions that she could be waiting for hours. She pulled out a magazine, something from the Old Days. Slauson knew Eileen liked to collected items from before the War, so he’d bring her back a souvenir from his explorations. This magazine was one of the many trinkets he’d brought her–it was about baking, and Eileen loved eyeing at the many mouth-watering recipes that she knew she would never be able to make.

Eileen was reading a recipe involving raspberries and figs–she was pretty sure figs didn’t even exist anymore–when she heard it. It was a piercing screech, so high-pitched it made her ears hurt. It sounded like grating metal, and for some reason, Eileen sensed that whatever was making the sound was angry. It sent a shiver down her spine. She set down her magazine and listened closely, but she couldn’t hear anything. Then, faintly in the distance, she heard a voice. This time it was human, and it was saying something, something urgent. Chills went through Eileen’s body as she realized what she was hearing: help.

Eileen stood abruptly and turned to Marlin, the soldier who’d stayed behind to stand guard. She was about to say something to him, but realized he was already headed toward the mouth of the ship. Eileen started to follow him, but he held up his hand, indicating that she stay put.

As Marlin neared the ship, he tried to say something in the radio but only received static in response. Marlin readied his gun and slowly approached the entrance, and suddenly, the cry for help turned into a blood-curdling scream. It increased in volume until it sounded like it was right at the ship’s exit. Then it went silent. After thirty seconds of bated breath, Eileen saw someone emerge from the opening. She let out a breath of relief when she recognized the figure to be Slauson. She started jogging towards him, but as she got closer she realized something was wrong, and she stopped.

Slauson stood very still, and his limbs were bent at odd angles, as if they had been just given to him and he wasn’t quite sure how to use them yet. His head was lolling back and forth, and his eyes–his eyes had a gray sheen, almost as if they had been covered in the same metallic material of the ship. His skin had been drained of color, and his body was almost as pale as the snow around him.

“Slauson?” Marlin called out. “You good?”

At the sound of Marlin’s voice, Slauson stirred. His metallic eyes trained on Marlin, and he started walking. It was slow and clunky at first, but then he started to pick up speed.

“Stop,” Marlin warned, “or else I’ll shoot.” He aimed his gun at Slauson, but Slauson didn’t even pause. He continued picking up his pace until he was almost running toward Marlin, his limbs still bent awkwardly so that he looked like Frankenstein’s monster. Once Slauson reached several feet away from Marlin, Eileen saw Marlin put his finger on the trigger.

“Marlin, don’t!” she cried out, but it was too late. The gunshot rang out and echoed across the frozen landscape. Eileen looked at Slauson, expecting to see his dead body on the ground, but he was still standing. There was a hole in his chest from where the bullet had entered, but in a matter of seconds the bullet slid out, covered in a clear, gelatin-like fluid. Before Marlin could react, Slauson lunged for him, knocking the gun out of his hands and tackling him to the ground. Slauson shoved a piece of the clear goop down Marlin’s throat, and Eileen could only watch in horror as Marlin started to twitch, his body steaming and gurgling noises coming out of his mouth. Then suddenly, Marlin stopped making noise altogether and went completely still, his eyes glazing over until they became the same color as Slauson’s.

Slauson stood slowly and locked his icy-metal eyes on Eileen, who suddenly found she had lost the ability to move. He tilted his head, as if pondering something, and he almost looked like he recognized her. Then came that same piercing screech from before, and Slauson shook his head and started toward Eileen, slowly and grotesquely until he was standing over her. As Eileen searched his eyes, she realized with despairing finality that the friend she knew was gone.

Then grayness took over, and the angry cries drowned her.