OPERATION GHOST RIG

THE WEIGHT OF THE DEAD

The maintenance tunnel stretched on forever.

Elias led the group through the narrow passage, the penlight cutting a thin beam through the darkness. Behind him, twelve survivors shuffled forward, their bare feet scraping against the metal floor. Some whimpered. Some prayed. Most just stared ahead with empty eyes, their minds broken by whatever horrors they'd endured.

The child was the worst. The boy couldn't have been more than ten. He clung to Ava's hand, his small fingers wrapped around hers like a lifeline. He hadn't spoken since they'd pulled him from the cage. He just walked, his eyes wide and unblinking.

"What's your name?" Ava asked him softly.

The boy didn't answer. He just kept walking.

"He's in shock," Lauren said. "Most of them are. The experiment doesn't just break the body. It breaks the mind."

Elias's jaw tightened. He'd seen this before. Not here, not on this rig, but somewhere else. A memory flickered at the edge of his consciousness—a village, a burned-out building, children with the same empty eyes.

He pushed the memory away. Now wasn't the time.

"How much farther?" Mateo asked. His voice was strained. He was helping an older man walk, the survivor's arm draped over his shoulders.

"Another hundred yards," Henry said. "The radio room is at the end of this tunnel. But there's a junction up ahead. We'll need to cross an open area."

"Open area?" Jesus said. "That's a killing zone."

"I know. But it's the only way."

Elias stopped at the junction and peered around the corner. The open area was a loading bay, wide and empty. A crane hung from the ceiling, its hook swaying slightly. Crates and barrels were scattered across the floor, providing some cover.

But there was also a camera mounted on the far wall. Its red light blinked steadily.

"They'll see us," Elias said.

"Not if we disable it," Becky said. She stepped forward, studying the camera. "It's wireless. I can jam the signal if I can get close enough."

"How close?"

"Twenty feet. Maybe less."

Elias looked at the open area again. Twenty feet was a long way. But there was no other option.

"Jesus, cover her," he said. "Mateo, stay with the survivors. We'll signal when it's clear."

Jesus nodded and moved forward, his pipe held ready. Becky followed, her movements quick and silent.

They reached the edge of the loading bay and paused. The camera was still blinking. Becky pulled a small device from her pocket—a signal jammer she'd salvaged from the server room.

"Ready?" Jesus whispered.

Becky nodded.

They moved together, staying low. The camera tracked their movement, its lens swiveling. But before it could lock on, Becky raised the jammer and pressed a button.

The red light flickered and died.

"Go," Jesus said.

They ran across the loading bay, reaching the far side in seconds. Becky pressed herself against the wall, breathing hard.

"Did it work?" she asked.

"For now." Jesus looked back. "But they'll know something's wrong when the feed cuts out. We need to move fast."

Elias signaled the others. The group emerged from the tunnel, moving as quickly as the survivors could manage. The old man stumbled, and Mateo caught him. The child tripped, and Ava pulled him upright.

They reached the far side of the loading bay and pressed on. The corridor narrowed again, leading them upward. The air grew warmer, fresher. They were climbing toward the upper levels.

"The radio room is just ahead," Henry said. "But it's guarded. At least two hunters."

"Only two?" Jesus said.

"That we know of. There could be more inside."

Elias checked his rifle. "I'll take point. Jesus, you're with me. The rest of you, stay back until we secure the room."

"What if you don't come back?" Becky asked.

"Then get the survivors to the helipad and signal the ship." Elias met her eyes. "Don't wait for us."

He didn't wait for a response. He moved down the corridor, the rifle raised. Jesus followed, his footsteps silent despite his size.

The radio room door was closed. A small window set at eye level showed a dim interior. Two shapes moved inside—hunters, their rifles slung over their shoulders.

Elias signaled to Jesus. One on the left. One on the right.

They moved together. Elias kicked the door open, and Jesus rushed through. The first hunter spun, reaching for his weapon, but Jesus's pipe caught him across the jaw. He dropped without a sound.

The second hunter raised his rifle. Elias fired. The shot echoed through the small room, and the hunter fell, clutching his leg.

"Clear," Elias said.

He moved to the radio console. The equipment was old but functional. A microphone sat on the desk, and a bank of dials and switches glowed with power.

"Becky, get in here," he called. "I need you to boost the signal."

Becky ran in and took a seat at the console. Her fingers flew across the controls. "The transmitter is working. But the signal's being jammed. I can try to bypass it, but it'll take time."

"How long?"

"Five minutes. Maybe ten."

Elias looked at the door. "We don't have ten minutes."

"Then give me five."

He nodded. "Jesus, watch the door. Mateo, get the survivors inside. Barricade the entrance."

They worked quickly, moving the survivors into the radio room. The space was cramped, but it was safe. Mateo and Lauren pushed a heavy cabinet against the door.

Becky's fingers danced over the console. The radio crackled with static as she adjusted the frequency.

"I'm getting something," she said. "A ship's channel. But it's encrypted."

"Can you break it?"

"Maybe. Give me a minute."

A minute passed. Then another. The static began to clear.

"I've got it," Becky said. "I'm broadcasting on the emergency frequency. If there's anyone out there, they'll hear us."

She handed the microphone to Elias. "You're on."

Elias took a deep breath. "Mayday, mayday. This is Elias Vance on the Prometheus Platform. We are survivors of an illegal experiment. We need immediate rescue. Repeat, we need immediate rescue. The rig is compromised. There are armed hostiles on site. We have wounded. We have children. Please respond."

He released the button and waited.

Static.

"Try again," Becky said.

He repeated the message. Again, static.

"They're not responding," Mateo said. "Maybe the signal's not getting through."

"It's getting through," Becky said. "I can see the transmission log. Someone's receiving it. They're just not answering."

"Why?" Ava asked.

"Because they're not here to help." Henry's voice was flat. "The supply ship isn't a rescue vessel. It's a support ship. They're part of the experiment."

Elias felt the hope drain from his chest. The ship had been circling for days, but it never came closer. It wasn't waiting to rescue them. It was waiting to observe.

"Then we're on our own," he said.

"Not entirely." Lauren stepped forward. "There's a lifeboat station on the lower deck. The old escape pods. They might still work."

"The lower deck is flooded," Mateo said.

"Not all of it. There's a dry section near the stern. The pods are there."

Elias considered this. It was a risk. But staying here was death.

"Can you get us there?" he asked.

Lauren nodded. "I know the way. But it's dangerous. The hunters control that sector."

"Then we'll fight through them." Elias turned to the group. "We're getting off this rig. Tonight. All of us."

A murmur spread through the survivors. Some looked hopeful. Others looked terrified. But no one argued.

"Becky, keep monitoring the radio," Elias said. "If anyone responds, let me know."

She nodded.

"Jesus, Mateo, with me. We're going to scout the route to the lifeboats."

"What about the creature?" Henry asked.

Elias paused. "If it finds us, we'll deal with it."

"And the hunters?"

"Same answer."

He moved to the barricaded door and began pulling it open. The metal groaned, and the cabinet slid aside.

"Stay here," he told the others. "Keep the survivors quiet. We'll be back soon."

He stepped into the corridor, Jesus and Mateo behind him.

The rig was silent now. The alarms had stopped. The red emergency lights still pulsed, but the chaos had settled. It was almost worse this way. The quiet felt like a held breath, waiting to be released.

They moved through the corridors, staying low. The camera lights were dead—Becky's jammer had done its work. But that also meant the hunters knew something was wrong.

"Where's the route?" Elias whispered.

Lauren had given him directions. Through the mess hall, down two levels, then east toward the stern. The lifeboat station was at the end of a long catwalk.

They reached the mess hall without incident. The room was empty, the tables still scattered with the remains of old meals. Elias moved through quickly, his rifle scanning the shadows.

A sound behind him. He spun.

Nothing. Just the wind.

"Easy," Jesus said. "You're jumpy."

"With good reason."

They continued down the stairs. The air grew colder, heavier. The lower levels were dark, the lights long dead.

Mateo clicked on a flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness, revealing a corridor lined with doors. Some were open. Some were closed. All were rusted.

"The lifeboat station is through there," Mateo said, pointing to a large door marked "EVACUATION."

They moved toward it.

And then the lights came on.

Blinding white light flooded the corridor, forcing Elias to shield his eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw them.

Hunters. At least a dozen, blocking the corridor. They were armed, their weapons raised.

And in the center of them stood Asher.

"Hello, Elias," he said. "I've been expecting you."

Elias raised his rifle. But he knew it was useless. There were too many.

"You're predictable," Asher continued. "You always go for the obvious escape route. The lifeboats. The radio. The helipad." He shook his head. "You never learn."

"Let my people go," Elias said. "They're not part of this."

"They're all part of this. Every one of them. The experiment doesn't end just because you want it to." Asher smiled. "But I'll make you another deal. You surrender now, and I'll let the survivors live. They'll be returned to their cages. But they'll be alive."

"You're lying."

"I'm negotiating. There's a difference."

Elias's finger tightened on the trigger. One shot. That's all he'd get. But if he could take Asher down, maybe the others would have a chance.

"You won't shoot me," Asher said. "You're not a killer."

"You don't know me."

"I know you better than you know yourself." Asher stepped closer. "I've been watching you for months. Since before you woke up on this rig. I know your history. Your failures. Your guilt." He paused. "I know what you did in the mountains."

Elias's blood went cold.

"Three men," Asher said. "You left them to die. You chose the mission over their lives." His voice was soft, almost gentle. "That's the real reason you're here. Not because we brought you. Because you wanted to forget. And we gave you that chance."

The words echoed in Elias's mind. The same words from his vision. The same accusations.

"You're wrong," he said. "I'm not like you."

"No. You're worse." Asher's smile faded. "But we can fix that. We can make you better. Stronger. All you have to do is surrender."

The hunters tensed, waiting for the order to fire.

Elias looked at Jesus, then at Mateo. They were outnumbered, outgunned. There was no way out.

But he wasn't going to surrender.

"Go to hell," he said.

And he pulled the trigger.

The shot hit Asher in the chest. The man staggered back, his face twisting with shock.

Then the hunters opened fire.

The world exploded into noise and light and pain.

And Elias dove for cover, his body screaming, as the corridor turned into a war zone.