Prologue
Malcolm Reed looked at the woman in the bed. He felt her forehead. She was burning up with fever, yet her body shook with cold. He pulled the blankets up around her closer and tucked them under her neck. She had been practically delirious when he had brought her there, and quite near death.
He rubbed his hands together, then blew on them. It was cold as hell in that blasted cabin. He got up from the edge of the bed where his patient lay and walked over to the window. He pulled back the shade and looked out. He watched the snow pummel the already white covered hillside. He was concerned that they would be snowed in and that their rations would run out long before they could dig themselves out. Their shuttle craft had crash landed three days ago and he had tracked on foot, him dragging her behind him on a makeshift sled for almost three hours until he found shelter on this god-forsaken planet, an abandoned hunting-type lodge with no electricity. Malcolm sighed deeply. Suddenly, she started coughing violently.
Malcolm ran over to the bed and sat next to her. He raised up the top half of her body and held a cloth under her mouth as she spit up blood. "Easy, easy now," he said. She coughed a bit more. He wiped away the blood and the spittle. "Take it easy now," he said again. He then got up, poured some water and sat back down next to her. "Here, drink a little." She tried to swat it away but she was too weak.
"Come on, you need to drink just a swallow or two."
"N-no," she whispered.
"Why not?" he asked. "You need it."
"W-why are…why are you…doing this," she stammered.
"Because you need help, and I'm the only one here."
"Let me…die."
"You know I can't do that."
"You…bas…tard," she stammered.
"That's me, love," he grinned, "now drink." With that she sipped a little of the water. "That's great. Soup's for dinner, so get ready. Now that I know you can swallow, I'll be expecting you to get some of it down."
"Go…go…t-to…hell…" she whispered, then fell back onto the bed.
"That's the spirit," he said. Then he turned and went over to the fireplace, threw another log onto the fire and stirred it a bit more. He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain again staring out at the blanket of white.
"How the hell am I gonna get us out of here," he whispered to himself. Then suddenly, he felt someone approaching, but she was so ill just seconds ago. Perhaps she found the will to finally try and get out of bed. But when he turned to meet her eyes, he was startled by something cold and sharp tearing into his flesh.
"What- what the hell h-have you done!" he said as he grabbed his right side. He then looked at his hand and it was covered with blood. He felt the pain, but tried to immediately disconnect from it. The blood was flowing rapidly as well. Perhaps she had struck him in the kidney.
He grabbed her as she tried to stab him again and they struggled with the broken blade. Where she had gotten it from or when she had gotten it, he didn't know. He wrestled it away from her as she was too weak to put up a real fight, and tossed it across the room.
"You silly little fool!" he said as he started to stumble, trying desperately not to pass out. "You've probably just sealed both of our deaths. I was our only hope of survival!"
"Good!" She spat at him. "I told you…to let me die… Now you can die with me! I told you if I got the chance I would kill you! You should have listened!" she said as she stumbled backwards.
He grabbed her as she started to fall and looked her in her eyes, both of them tumbling to the floor together. But the person behind the eyes he saw betrayed the woman he was speaking to. "You're not…" he said confused. "You're not… her! You're Not Her! You're… No! It can't be! You're not… You Are Not… Hoshi!" he shouted!
She raised her head from the floor, looked at him directly, their eyes locking. Then she smiled a sinister looking smile at him… and darkness consumed them both.