Reddit Collection (Fresh-Short #10) by DeYtH Banger (books to get back into reading txt) 📖

patch it to the speakers, but it didn’t make any sense. It was just a repeating sound resembling a person vocalizing the sound of a single letter or vowel but stretched to about 3 seconds followed by equally long pause. It was very distorted, and it clearly wasn’t a loop, since each sound was just slightly different than the previous one.

 

We ate, and once again prepared for moonwalk. It was darker than the other day. The sun was still shining, but it was steadily creeping its way under the horizon. We followed the source of the signal for about an hour when we found something lying in the dust in front of us. I tensed as I looked closer and found out what it was.

It was a space suit.

 

The same as the one in the Russian lander.

“Well, it looks like we found our missing friend.” Said Carver with disbelief.

I didn’t say anything. I simply jumped off the rover, and slowly, silently approached, the suit.

“What are you doing Miller?” continued Carver.

 

Just as I was about to open the sunshield with my shaking hands, the suit came alive and grabbed my hand. With the sound travelling through our suits, I heard a weak “Pomogite” – meaning help in Russian.

 

We carried him to our lander. The patch on his suit revealed his identity as “Tarkov”. He was in shock and hypoxic. I don’t know how long or why he was just lying there but he was lucky to be alive. For the next couple of hours, he fell in and out of consciousness. He eventually woke up. Our Russian was bad but luckily, he spoke English enough for us to understand each other. He didn’t remember why he was there, what had happened to him and his crew or what his mission was. When I looked out of the window, I realized that our flag was gone. There were no footprints, it looked like as if it simply vanished. At this point each one of us was really concerned, and we asked to terminate the mission. The command refused, explaining that the recovery of the satellite’s data was of paramount importance. We decided to continue our search tomorrow and went to sleep.

I again had the same nightmare as the day before. I woke up terrified and drenched in sweat. I saw Tarkov standing by the window and looking out. He then walked over to Carver, and just stood there, looking at him while he slept for about a minute or two. Silently, I asked him:

 

“Tarkov, what are you doing?”

but he just mumbled something like “them” or “when” and lied down. I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, and I kept an eye on him, but nothing interesting happened.

 

The next day we found a picture or a map of the crater we were at in a pocket in Tarkov’s suit. There was a point a few miles from where we were that was marked with a cross. Tarkov didn’t know what was there, but I soon realized that it was right in the direction where I saw the flash on the first day. We had to check it out.

 

Me and Carver later took off and headed towards this mysterious target while Tarkov stayed in the Charon. In reality, our rover had enough power to carry all three of us, but I insisted that it didn’t, and that he should stay behind.

“I don’t trust this guy,” I said to Carver after I was sure that Tarkov was out of range of our short-range radio.

“We land on the moon. We don't find the box and suddenly the probe is gone. Then we find a supposed-to-be-dead Russian who doesn't remember when was the last time he took a shit. And now, we're heading towards an inconspicuous place that was marked on his map he knows nothing about. You bet I don't trust him. Hell I don't trust a single step I take in that direction.” he replied.

“What are we going to do with him?” he asked later.

 

“I don’t know yet. But we can’t take him with us. Neither the LEM or CSM is built for an extra passenger. You know that,” I responded.

“And I’m afraid he knows that too.” replied Carver.

The sun was setting. After driving for a while, we reached something, that puzzles me to this day. Right there, in front of us, was something I can only describe as a three-sided pyramid. It was about 10 feet tall and its surface was completely smooth and black as night.

“What in the world is this?” asked Carver with a shiver in his voice.

We walked around it and took pictures.

 

“What the fuck?!” I suddenly heard through my radio.

I turned around and saw Carver frozen in place, staring at something. There, in the remaining faint light, was a space suit about 20 feet away from us. I recognized the missing name patch and realized that it was the suit from the Russian spacecraft. It was standing upright, on its feet. The sunshield was open to reveal a sight that terrifies me to this day. It was empty. The suit was empty. But it was standing upright. I came back to my senses after I heard a crackling noise coming from my radio.

“….you….don’t….belong……here…..” it spoke in a low, deep, distorted voice. Then out of nowhere, I was blinded by an intense flash of light. When I recovered, the thing was gone.

 

“Carver? Are you alright?” I asked.

He was silent at first, and then replied:

“Man, fuck NASA, fuck the army, fuck the satellite, fuck this whole mission! I want to get out of here, NOW!”

Without any debate, we ran to the rover, and drove off back to Charon.

 

When we came back, the sun had already fallen below the horizon, and it was almost completely pitch black. The airlock was open and Tarkov was standing in front of the module in his suit. Damnit. In the rush, we completely forgot about him. I approached him and started:

“Listen, Tarkov, there is something you…” I stopped when I noticed that he was holding something behind his back, but it was too late.

He swung and struck me with a sharpened rod. I hit my head on the inside of my helmet and dazed fell to the ground. When the ringing in my ears stopped, I saw him and Carver fighting in the dust. I stood up and thrown myself into Tarkov, propelling us both a dozen feet away. Before I was able to stand up again, he was already on top of me. We struggled and just as he got grip on the lever that was used to release my helmet, I struck his head with a sharp rock. His visor cracked, and while his air was slowly escaping his suit, I picked myself up and grabbed the rod. It was already stained with blood. He lunged at me, but I stabbed him in the chest. He then fell on top of me, and when our helmets touched, he spoke as the last of his air was pulled out from his lungs:

“He is not your friend. Follow the voice”.

 

I picked myself up and walked over to Carver. I saw that his suit was punctured on the thigh, and brownish-red blood was being sucked out into the airless vacuum all around us. When I brought him inside the Charon, I realized that our first aid kit was gone. He was bleeding a lot, and I managed to slow it down, but I had to treat him properly. I was afraid, that if we took off, he would bleed out in zero gravity even faster.

 

“There was a medkit in the Russian thing, wasn’t it? he said.

“Yeah” I replied.

“Miller, you have to go and get it. Fuck. It’s not that far from here, is it?” said Carver.

“No, it’s not. Are you sure you can hold on until I get back?” I asked.

“Yeah, just go”.

So I went.

“Don’t die on me Carver. That’s an order.” I said before leaving.

 

 

As I said, it didn’t take long until I reached the Russian lander, but it felt like ages. Throughout the whole journey, I waited for something to jump out of the darkness around me. I wasn't surprised when I saw that the suit that was previously hanged on the wall was now missing, but still, I felt a shiver run down my spine. I took their medkit and headed back as soon as I could. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Tarkov’s last words.

 

“He is not your friend. Follow the voice” I kept repeating inside my head.

I then switched the channel on my radio to the one we heard the incomprehensible noise on. It was still on. I realized that it was stronger in one particular direction.

“Follow the voice” I said to myself.

Was this the voice Tarkov meant? Who is not my friend? Tarkov? Carver? The Mission commander back at Earth? I had to find out. I drove off in the direction of the signal.

 

After driving for at least 15 minutes, I reached a small, crater about 30 feet in diameter. With my headlight on, I immediately saw that something was inside, but I couldn't recognize it yet. I stepped over the edge and walked into the crater and switched my light to full intensity.

 

I stood there, paralyzed with raw terror for what felt like hours. There was a rectangular block of the same material as the pyramid in the center of the crater. A body was lying on top of it. Its limbs were contorted in the most twisted and gruesome way possible. His eyes were missing and in their place were only two gaping holes. It was Carver. There was a small box stuffed inside his mouth. It was the black box from the satellite. I took the box and ran out of there as fast as I could. Carver was dead. If Carver was dead, who was the Carver I left in the Charon? “He is not your friend” was the only thing I had on my mind the rest of the way back.

When I returned, Tarkov's body was gone but Carver was still there, lying, bleeding. But it wasn’t Carver. What was that thing?

“Thank God you’re back, Miller” said Carver.

Not Carver. Carver was dead. Mutilated. Dead.

“Miller, are you alright?” continued not-Carver.

“Yeah, I’ve got the kit” I replied. He couldn’t know that I know.

It couldn’t know.

I treated his (its) wound and the bleeding finally stopped. I strapped him in (strapped it in) and then strapped myself in. I didn’t tell him (it) that I had found the blackbox.

I didn't tell it that I found him.

With the engine roaring below us, the Charon split in half, and the crew compartment pushed us up, into the void while the legs stayed planted on the lunar dust eternally.

 

Now I already wrote on several occasions, that I had felt minutes pass as if they were hours. The ascent and rendezvous took only a bit more than a dozen of minutes. But those minutes felt like decades. I wanted to scream so loud that my lungs would break and I wanted to vomit. But I couldn't because it would find out. I wanted to black out but I couldn't. I had to save Ackermann. After several lifetimes, we finally docked with Ackermann and the Trinity. Throughout the whole ordeal, we kept him updated, but meeting him was different. He was scared. But I was scared even more. He didn’t know that Carver was not Carver. I did know.

I did unstrap first and pushed Ackermann out of the docking tunnel. I did kick Carver (not-Carver) right in the face when he followed. I did close the docking tunnel behind me.

 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING MILLER? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” shouted Ackermann and slammed me to the wall of the command module.

“DON'T OPEN IT, MIKE! IT'S NOT CARVER! That thing in the LEM is not Carver do you understand?!” I shouted back in pain.

Even though he was a battle-hardened soldier, Ackermann finally broke into tears. I floated past him over to the controls,