Read Apocalypse Weird: Reversal (Polar Wyrd Book 1) Online
Authors: Jennifer Ellis
She had only gone about a quarter of a mile when she realized that splayed triangular footprints with three sharp pointed toes, or claws, were appearing in the snow beside her. There was no associated body and no animal in the world that had feet like that. Over her shoulder she could see that the blood-spattered polar bear trailed her at a distance, regarding her with his long broad face, dark eyes, and crimson maw. She had deceived herself into thinking that the polar bears were somehow on her side when they had chosen to kill Robert and Cal instead of her. But now she could see that she was quite mistaken. This bear wanted to tear her to pieces, plain and simple.
“Okay. I give up. What do you want?” she said.
“They’ve gone quite mad, you know.” Ice’s voice. The demon wore white boots on feet of human shape, yet the footprints behind him remained clawed; his corporeal form, like that of Paul’s, clearly not reflecting the whole of him. She was already freezing, and yet the temperature seemed to plummet even further in his presence.
The demon continued, “When the seals disappeared and the ice began to melt, and it became harder and harder for them to find a mate, they just began to go mad. Other events have contributed to their madness. I’ve done what I could to keep them going. I am an admirer of large predators, but with ever declining habitat, they’re not in good shape. I’m afraid you won’t find anything useful in the pod you are heading to. The bears have ripped most of the pods open over the last few months. They’ve gone rogue.”
A sick shiver washed over her, and Sasha realized just how much she had been counting on the safety pod for her rescue. But really, she was probably going to be dinner or breakfast for a polar bear anyway. Might as well simply sink into the snow and hope to be a popsicle before he attacked. The bear’s fur coat was starting to feature in her imagination as a warm and desirable thing, as if the bear would cradle her in his arms and wrap his fuzzy body around her.
“I’m prepared to offer you a deal,” Ice said. “The location of a pod and removal of the bear in exchange for your help.”
Sasha folded her arms over her chest to try to quell the trembles that wracked her body. Waves of hunger were making the stars spin. “What could I possibly have to offer you? And what could you offer me? Isn’t the world basically ending? It’s just a matter of how and when. My demise is likewise assured, it’s also just a question of how and when. Doesn’t seem like either of us are holding a lot of cards.” Sasha realized that even as she said these words, she did not totally believe them. She still believed that there was a chance that the world could be saved, that she could be saved, that it had not gone to hell everywhere. “Besides, if I spend much more time out here chitty chatting, I’m dead anyway and pretty useless to you.”
“You talk a lot, Sasha Wood.”
“So I’ve been told. Look Ice, you want my help. Take me to a pod right now.”
“I can, but you won’t like it.”
“What do you mean?” Sasha said.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Sure, we have a deal.”
Ice turned and grasped her two shoulders and then she was spinning though something—air, space, time. The colors all around her blurred and scattered like a thousand fun-house mirrors, and when it stopped and Ice released her, she fell to her knees and retched out what little remained in her stomach, trying to get her brain to stop twisting precariously about in her skull. Her eyes felt like they were askew and tangled and she crawled in a slow painful circle in the snow taking deep breaths.
“Remember this,” Ice said. Sasha looked up and saw one of the pod poles. The demon was gone.
“You could have just taken me to the station,” she said to the empty expanse of snow.
After she had put on the jacket and wrapped the blanket around herself, she started a small fire with the fake log, melted some snow to drink and then inhaled the two power bars and the dried soup mix. Dawn streaked across the island in red and pink, transforming the tiny snow crystals into a glittery carpet of white. She huddled by the log trying to absorb the last few bits of warmth. The early morning sky transitioned from pale to deep blue. Sasha stared at the vast expanse of clear sky. There were no contrails. Normally the Arctic sky was a crisscrossing mass of them, but today the sky was empty. Perhaps the world really had ended.
She searched the pod for anything else useful and pocketed the compass and headlamp. The pod also contained a slim rectangular white electronic device, almost like an iPhone but fatter. Was it a beacon of sorts? She pressed the button that she thought would turn it on. There was no response on the small screen. Dead battery probably. She slipped the device into her pocket.
The log sputtered out. Sasha packed everything up, checked the compass, which was still useless, and headed in the direction of the station.
She found Timber outside the station in the alcove of the small door to the storage bay. He was folded into the smallest ball possible, his furry body quaking with cold, but he was alive.
Sasha punched the code on the station bay door and dragged the stiff-legged dog inside. She pulled him, shaking, across the empty cavernous storage bay and flung open the station door to find the common room rosy with wood stove heat and Amber and Vincent sitting on the couch drinking coffee. Tundra and Cedar raced at her, howling greetings, but Tundra ran right past her into the bay, looking for Soren. She shooed him back inside, closed the door, and guided Timber over to the wood stove. Then she sat with her arms around his torso and her face pressed into his fur, until his shaking subsided.
Vincent and Amber had risen immediately with exclamations of surprise and fluttered about her. She imagined she was quite the sight with her hair wild and face and clothes spattered with penguin blood, but she waved them off while she warmed Timber and herself by the fire. Vincent and Amber returned to their spots on the couch when it became apparent that she would not answer any questions yet.
“Soren’s gone,” she said finally when Timber’s shakes became more controlled. “He’s been taken hostage, by some…” She couldn’t say demons. Even she wasn’t sure she believed in demons. But if they weren’t demons, what were they? “…bad people. I have to go back and try to rescue him. He’s in the Antarctic. The mist leads there.” She flapped her arms at Amber to stop her trying to talk. “Vincent knows what I’m talking about. That’s how he got here.”
She rose, her tight and weary limbs arguing with every move. She would have to bandage up her feet. She wondered if she had time for a short sleep, if she would be more successful in rescuing Soren if she had slept. How on earth was she going to rescue Soren from a demon?
“I’m going with you,” Vincent announced.
“Sorry, what?” Sasha had already moved on to the list of things that she would require for the trip. Guns for one. Lots of guns.
Vincent gestured at the radio. “I need to go and talk to Helga. She’s clearly gone off the deep end. She obviously still has a functioning radio, and I need her to radio for help. We’ve been unsuccessful in contacting anyone else. The Internet and sat phones are still out.”
“I’m not surprised,” Sasha said. She wondered if there even anyone left to contact.
“And she keeps saying all sorts of whacked out things about a dragon, and all champions gathering. It’s bizarre,” Amber added.
Sasha blinked. She was too tired to process any of this. She had best sleep first and then go to Soren. “The mist seems to lead to Paulet Island, Vincent. Not the mainland.”
Vincent rubbed his hands together. “Very good. I have a boat on Paulet. I was finishing up some research there when I went blind, and then I tripped and banged my head. When I first ended up here in the snow, presumably through the mist, I assumed I had somehow given myself a head injury and piloted the boat back to the mainland of in a concussed fog and lost time somehow. That’s why I was looking for my research station. But that’s probably not what happened, so my boat should still be anchored at Paulet.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Soren and I were chased…around the island.” Sasha was not sure if she should say by Robert—she didn’t know how Amber would react. The fact that Robert now lay torn to bits on a hillside only a few miles away complicated matters further. She glanced at Amber, but the woman seemed unperturbed by the fact that her boyfriend had for all she knew evaporated in the last two days. Sasha decided that their relationship must not have been all that serious, which was probably good since Robert was obviously a total creep, although Amber wasn’t hitting it out of the ball park either. She focused back on Vincent. “We looked for your boat. Someone must have taken it.”
Vincent cocked his head. “Maybe, but I have a very secret spot for anchoring the boat. There’s a small cave in the volcanic rock on the south side of the island. We just found it last year. You have to approach the island from the water in order to see it. I would be very surprised if someone else found it.”
Sasha tried to assess whether Vincent would be an asset or a detriment to her efforts to rescue Soren. He had abandoned her on the plain last night. On the other hand, he might know the island and the tunnels, which could be helpful, and he had access to a boat. She decided he would be at best neutral, provided she could be absolutely merciless about not going back to retrieve him if he got into trouble.
“It’s going to be very dangerous, Vincent. People were shooting at us, and you’re going to have to be able to run.”
“Count me out,” Amber said.
“I’m going,” Vincent said. “Someone needs to get to that radio.”
“I don’t know. Where did you go last night when you found me by the fire, when you said Soren had been taken? You took off.” She paused and turned around and around the station. Where were the other dogs? The four Vincent had attached to the sled.
Vincent regarded her with utter bafflement. “I didn’t find you last night. I didn’t leave the station. Soren never returned. I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sasha squinted at him. “Did any of the other dogs come back to the station?”
Vincent shook his head.
Sasha searched the old man for signs of guile. There were clearly no other dogs at the station.
They always have tells
, Soren had said. And
teeth.
He had said teeth. Paul as Soren still had his dreadful teeth. Ice had left footprints that did not match his feet. The Vincent who rescued her had worn a balaclava over his mouth, had been pumping her for strange information, information that Soren would know she never had, and Soren had clearly not been abducted at that point.
That Vincent must have been Paul, or another demon. Perhaps they could change their flesh, but not their bone structure. Their teeth.
Which meant Paul was looking for the hole in the world. Whatever that was.
It also meant that Soren knew something about demons.
Sasha nodded at Vincent who still regarded her with hopeful eyes. “Fine. I’m leaving in four hours. I just need to have a short sleep first.”
“There was a strange guy here looking for you,” Amber said. “I have no idea where he came from, or where he went. Anyway, he was blabbering on over the bay intercom about the polar champion, wanted to know who was going. I have no idea what he was going on about. Vincent decided to go out there and talk to him, but by the time Vincent got there, the man was gone. It was totally creepy. You need to tell us what’s really going on. You can’t seriously be telling me that you went to the Antarctic.”
“Later Amber. I’m barely seriously telling myself that I went to the Antarctic,” Sasha said and headed towards her room. Timber watched her go through one half-open eye, but made no move to leave the heat of the stove.
Sasha lay in her bed, her mind churning through all the things she would need. Food, weapons, a tent, better footwear. She would have to break into the gun locker.
Who had come looking for her?
At any other time, with so many things running through her head, not the least of which being she had just apparently made a deal with a demon, she would not be able to sleep. But after almost thirty-six hours of being pursued in a wide variety of new and unexpected ways, she was stunningly tired, and passed out after only a few minutes of contemplation.
She awoke a few hours later from dreams of Soren being tortured in a fiery volcano pit to the roar of military jets passing low overhead. Before Sasha could fully regain consciousness, the jets were followed by others, or the same ones circling around. She sprang out of bed. Perhaps they could signal the jets. Perhaps someone was finally coming to their rescue. She nearly tripped over Timber and Cedar who were lying across the threshold of her door and ran down the hall into the common room to see Amber and Vincent drinking still more coffee. The wood stove belted out the heat. At this rate, with no supplies coming out of Retort, they’d be out of wood in a week. And coffee.
“We need to signal the jets,” she said. “We can make an S.O.S. signal and light it on fire.”
More jets flew overhead.
Amber sniffed and gestured sullenly at the window. Another storm had blown in, and snow hammered down from a thick cloud cover. Patches of fog hugged the station reducing the visibility to near zero. They could probably light the entire station on fire and watch it burn, and nobody above them would see it.
Sasha swore and marched over to the radio. “Maybe we can radio them.” Anything other than just sitting there drinking coffee, she thought.
Sasha flipped through the radio stations one by one, calling out her S.O.S. She tried the known military channels first and encountered only static. Then she started at the top of the channels and methodically worked her way down them, repeating the message each time. Amber and Vincent gathered around the radios with their coffees. At least Vincent, after a pointed look from Sasha, had the decency to go and make a cup for her. Aircraft continued to pass overhead at regular intervals. It sounded like North America was going to full-scale war…unless the aircraft were flying the other direction, of course, in which case North America might be under invasion.