Ice Hunt (28 page)

“Aye, sir.”

Perry checked his watch. Five minutes had passed. He stepped back under the Lexan arch. Visibility was mere yards now. He could just make out the line of pressure ridges, but no details. He kept his vigil. After another interminable minute, ghostly shapes pushed through the snow. It was the first of the evacuees.

Through the hollow of the boat, he could hear the outside hatch clang open. He imagined the whistle of wind. More and more shapes appeared out of the squall. He tried to count them, but the swirling snow confounded all efforts to tell one from another, man from woman.

His jaw ached from clenching his teeth.

The intercom buzzed. “Captain, bridge again. Patching through Commander Bratt.”

The next words were scratchy with static. “Captain? We’ve hauled through all the levels. I have two men with bullhorns running the occupied areas of the Crawl Space.”

Perry had to resist interrupting his XO and demanding to know Amanda’s fate.

The answer came anyway. “We learned Dr. Reynolds is still here.”

Perry let out a deep sigh of relief. She hadn’t returned to the drift station and been caught in the attack. She was safe. She was here.

The next words, though, were disquieting. “But, sir, no one has seen her in the last hour or so. She and one of the geologists went searching for an AWOL student in the ice tunnels.”

He hit the button. “Commander, I don’t want
anyone
left behind.”

“Roger that, sir.”

Perry checked his watch. “You have seven minutes.”

Before any acknowledgment could be transmitted, the control station cut in again. “Bridge to Captain. For the past few minutes, we’ve stopped picking up any evidence of weapon fire from the hydrophones. Sonar also reports suspicious echoes that could be a sub diving. Air venting, mechanicals…”

It could only be the
Drakon.
The Russian hunter/killer was on the move. Time had run out. Perry knew he couldn’t risk the lives here. He spoke into the intercom. “Patch me back to Bratt.”

“Aye, Captain.”

A moment later, his XO’s voice scratched out of the speaker. “Bratt here.”

“Commander, company is on the way. We need everyone out of there now!”

“Sir, we haven’t even cleared all of the Crawl Space yet.”

“You have exactly three minutes to empty that station.”

“Roger that. Out.”

Perry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Glancing over his shoulder, he took one last look out Cyclops, then ducked out of the room. He climbed back through the sub and assumed command of the bridge again.

Men milled in ordered confusion, helping wide-eyed civilians down ladders and into the living spaces beyond the control station. The interior of the sub had already dropped a good twenty degrees, open to the blizzard above.

Dr. Willig suddenly appeared at Perry’s side. “I know you’re busy, Captain,” the Swedish oceanographer said breathlessly, snow melting in his hair.

“What is it, sir?”

“Amanda…she’s still down in the Crawl Space.”

“Yes. We know.” He kept his voice clipped, tight. He couldn’t let his own panic show. He had to be leader here.

“Surely we’re going to make sure everyone is out of there before leaving.”

“We’ll do our best.”

His answer did little to fade the fear in the old man’s eyes. Amanda was like a daughter to him.

The chief waved from his station. “We’ve got Commander Bratt on the line again, Captain.”

Perry checked his watch, then glanced to the open hatch. The ladder was empty. Where was his XO? He crossed to the boat’s radio. “Commander, time’s run out. Get your ass over here now.”

The answer was faint. The entire bridge had hushed. “Still missing a handful of civilians. In the Crawl Space now with Lieutenant Washburn. Request permission to stay behind. To offer protection for those still here. We’ll find them…then find a good hiding place.”

Perry clenched a fist. A new voice spoke at his side. It was Lee Bentley, one of the NASA crew. “I left the commander my schematics of the station. Detailing the access tunnels and old construction shafts.”

Beyond the scientist, all eyes focused on Perry. Dr. Willig had never looked paler. They awaited his decision.

Perry hit the radio’s transmit. “Commander…” He held the button. Fear for Amanda hollowed his heart, but he had a boatload of crew and civilians to protect. “Commander, we can wait no longer.”

“Understood.”

“Find the others…keep them safe.”

“Roger that. Out.”

Perry closed his eyes.

Dr. Willig spoke into the heavy silence, his voice rich with disbelief. “You’re just going to leave them behind?”

With a deep breath, Perry turned and faced the chief of the watch. “Take us down.”

11:22 A.M.
ICE STATION GRENDEL

Blood pounding in her ears, Amanda crouched in the nest of bones. The smell of bowel and blood filled the small space. Lacy’s corpse looked like some broken mannequin, unreal. Something had torn the geology student apart. Something large.

Amanda panted though clenched teeth.

The girl’s body lay on its back, limbs broken, face smashed, like she had been shaken and slammed repeatedly against the ice.

Amanda kept her eyes away from the corpse’s belly. It had been ripped open. Frozen blood trailed from the open cavity. Out in the wild, wolves always ate the soft abdominal organs of their prey, burrowing into the bellies first, feasting on the rich meal inside.

Without a doubt, such a predator was down here now. But what was it?
Not a wolf…not so far north
. And she saw no evidence of the usual king of the Arctic wilds, the polar bear. No droppings. No piles of white hairs.

So what the hell was down here?

Amanda took a post by the only exit and quickly pieced a few things together in her head. She recalled the movement recorded on the DeepEye sonar she was testing. She knew for certain now it had been no sonar ghost.

Amanda’s mind, panicked, ran along impossible channels. Whatever was down here had sensed the passage of the sonar scan, fled from it, back to its nest in the core of the ice island. But what could do that? What animals could sense sonar? Having studied sonar in depth for her own research with the DeepEye, she knew the common answers: bats, dolphins…and
whales
.

She glanced fleetingly over to the sprawled, gutted corpse. It reminded her of another body spread and cut open on the ice.

Dr. Ogden’s dissected
Ambulocetus
specimen.

According to the biologists, the
Ambulocetus
species were the forefathers of the modern whale. The thought chilled her further.

Could it be possible? Could there be living specimens down here, not just frozen ones?

A terrified shudder passed through her. It seemed ridiculous, but nothing else made sense. Not a wolf, nor a polar bear. And here, alone, nightmares gained flesh and bone. The impossible seemed possible.

She cupped her hand over her flashlight. Beyond the tunnel, the shine of Connor’s helmet lamp still reflected in the outer cavern. She studied as best she could the only way out of here. Everything lay still. There was no sign of movement, no way of knowing if the predator was still out there or if it was returning even now.

She was trapped—not just in the cave, but also in a cocoon of silence. Without her hearing, she was cut off from any telltale sign of approach: a growl, a scrape of claw on ice, the hiss of breath.

She feared going back out.

But how could she stay?

Glancing back, she sought someplace to hide within the nest. The walls had a few cracks and blocky tumbles of icefall. But none was deep enough to nestle away safely.

She turned again to the tunnel.

A heavy shadow shifted past the reflected light.

Startled, she rolled back, scrabbling through bones. She flicked off the flashlight. Now the only illumination came from beyond the nest, flowing down the throat of the slotted tunnel. Something crouched out there at the entrance, like a boulder in a river of light.

Then it began to roll slowly toward her.

She fled to one of the cracks in the wall. Her mind raced, struggling against panic. She flicked her flashlight back on and tossed it near Lacy’s corpse, hoping its brightness would attract the creature’s attention. This last thought sparked others. How did it really see in the dark? Body heat? Vibrations? Echolocation?

She had to assume all.

She pulled up her suit’s hood and jammed herself sideways into the crack, barely able to press her body away. She rubbed the ice walls with one hand, then slathered her face. If it was body heat, her insulated suit should keep her hidden, leaving only her face exposed. She cooled her skin with ice water as best she could.

Crammed into the crack, she hoped she offered no direct silhouette to any possible echolocation. She covered her mouth and held her breath, fearing even her own heated exhalation could give her away.

She willed herself to dead stillness and waited.

It didn’t take long.

Amanda stared in disbelief as the creature crawled into the cave and crouched across from her now.

A
living
grendel.

It shoved its head into the cave first. Hot breath steamed from two slitted nostrils high on its domed head. Its long white muzzle dripped fresh blood and gore.

Connor…

Lips growled back to reveal razored teeth. It shambled into its nest, snout raised, sniffing. It was large, half a ton, slung low to the ground. It measured ten feet from muzzle to the tip of its thick tail.

As it entered its nest, it circled around the cavern’s edge, wary. It moved like an otter, sinuous and lithe, but this creature was white-skinned and hairless, sleek. It looked liked a creature built to move smoothly through water or to slide down tight tunnels. Black eyes narrowed as it shied from the brightness of her discarded flashlight.

It passed by Amanda’s hiding spot, its attention focused on the pool of brightness. Almost at her toes, it stopped and bunched up as it stared into the flashlight’s glare. Shoulders muscled into ridged peaks, haunches rose. Rear claws dug into the ice floor as its tail lashed violently, sweeping the floor of old bones.

Then it leaped as quick as any lion, pouncing at the light. It landed atop Lacy’s corpse, sending the flashlight flying. It tore and ripped, using teeth and claws, blindingly fast. Then it spun away, chasing after the light, batting the metal tool around the cavern. Finally the flashlight smashed against a block of ice and extinguished.

Amanda continued to hold her breath.

The entire attack had transpired in dead silence.

The sudden darkness blinded Amanda for a heartbeat. Then the glow from the outside cavern filtered in. In the dimness, the grendel was a ghostly shadow.

It circled around the cavern.
Once, twice
. It still seemed oblivious to her presence. It settled to the center of its nest, head craning, checking all walls. For a moment, whether it was her own fright or some ultrasonic sonar, Amanda felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck quiver.

A trickle of sweat rolled down her brow.

The grendel swung back toward her, sniffing, huffing. It seemed to stare right at her.

Amanda tried not to scream.

It didn’t matter.

The grendel rose to its feet, lips curled in menace, and slunk toward her hiding place.

11:35 A.M.
OUT ON THE ICE…

Jenny still lived. Somehow…

She lay with her father atop the ice, but he had long since stopped responding, though his cold arms remained locked around her, holding her. She didn’t have the strength to move, to check on him. Already their clothes had frozen together, fusing father to daughter. The blizzard blew around the pair, isolating them. She had lost sight of the two Navy men: Fernandez and Kowalski.

She tried to shift, but she could no longer feel her limbs. Her shivering had stopped, too, as her body gave up feeding blood to her extremities. Her systems were in pure survival mode, expending all resources to keep the core alive.

Even the cold had vanished, replaced with a deadly sense of calm. She found it hard to stay awake, but in sleep lay only death.

Papa…
She could not speak. Her lips would not move. Another name arose, unbidden, unwelcome:
Matt…

Her heart ached, thudding leadenly.

She would have cried then, but her tear ducts had frozen over. She didn’t want to die this way. For the past three years, she had trudged through life, going through the motions of living. Now she wanted to live. She cursed the time lost, the half-life she had lived. But nature was immune to wishes and dreams. It simply killed with the determined heart of any predator.

Her eyelids drifted closed. They were too painful to keep open.

As the world faded away, flares bloomed through the swirling snow.
One, two, three, four…
They were hazy glows through the blizzard, flying back and forth, sailing through the air.
Snow angels…

She squinted, struggling to hold her eyes open. They grew brighter, and after another few breaths, a growling whine accompanied them, piercing angrily through the wail of winds.

Not angels…

From the snow, strange vehicles rode forth. They looked like snowmobiles, but they moved too fast, skimming over the ice with a gracefulness and speed that belied ordinary Ski-Doos. They reminded her instead of jet skis, flying over the ice.

But the vehicles here were neither snowmobiles nor jet skis. As they grew from illusion to solid reality, the machines glided over the ice, not deigning to touch the surface of the world. Jenny had seen such craft before, at shows, experimental models.

Hovercraft
.

But these were small, no larger than two-man jet skis, open on top, ridden like a motorcycle. The windshield of each bubbled back to protect the driver and passenger. And like jet skis, the underside of each bore ski runners, but the machines seemed only to need them as they banked and slowed. Each craft settled with skill to the ice, landing on their runners and sliding to a stop a few yards away.