Michael Hollingworth
Opening Words
Somewhere in the Arctic tundras, amidst a ceaseless storm of snow and ice, a base lies hundreds of feet below the surface.
Someone knocks.
“Come in. What is it?”
“Sir, we have a big problem and a small one.”
“What?”
“The big problem has to do with Haven.”
“Shit. And the other one?”
“We might have started the apocalypse.”