Ice Hunt

Matt was already moving. He swung his assault rifle around from his shoulder and drove its stock into the bridge of the man’s nose. He felt bone crush. The soldier’s head snapped back, then forward. His body followed.

Not missing a beat, Matt dropped to his knees beside the fellow, pretending to help the guy stand as eyes looked toward them. He laughed hoarsely as if the man had tripped.

Before anyone grew wiser, Matt reached the grenade under the man, pulled the pin, and bowled it under the tables toward the central shaft. It wouldn’t get the distance compared to throwing it, but it would have to do.

Unfortunately, it didn’t get far at all. It struck an overturned chair, the same one he himself had knocked down a moment ago. It bounced back toward him.

Crap…

He ducked, shielding himself with the giant’s body. The fellow groaned groggily, arms scrabbling blindly.

Matt swore, realizing he had forgotten to signal the others.

Fuck it…they’ll get the message.

The grenade blew.

A table flew into the air, spinning end over end. Matt barely saw it. The force of the blast drove him and his unwilling partner across the floor. Shrapnel ripped through the soldier’s thick neck. Blood spouted in a hot gush over Matt’s face.

Ears ringing from the blast, Matt rolled away. He was deaf for the moment to any shouting. He watched men picking themselves up off the floor. Flashlights searched the room, now smoky from the blast.

Movement caught his eye.

Through the double doors to the galley, a trio of figures rushed toward him. Bratt was in the lead. They aimed for him.

Matt, still shell-shocked, couldn’t understand why they weren’t making for the exit. Still on the ground, he lolled around.

Oh, that’s why…

He was sprawled right in the entrance to the hall that led out.

The Sno-Cat lay just a few yards away.

Even closer, only five steps from him, two soldiers stood with weapons leveled. They shouted…or he assumed so, since their lips were moving. But his ears still rang. He couldn’t hear, let alone understand if he could.

They came toward him, weapons firming on shoulders, aiming at his head.

Matt took a gamble. He lifted his arms. “Nyet!” It was a fifty-fifty chance. Da or nyet.

This time he chose wrong.

The closer man fired.

15

Storm Warning

APRIL 9, 4:55 P.M.

ICE STATION GRENDEL

From a couple of paces away, Amanda stared toward the ventilation shaft. The sheriff had vanished beyond the reach of the lantern’s light. The other members of the party gathered at the opening, anxious, eyes darting all around.

She felt isolated. She had thought herself accustomed to the lack of auditory stimulation, to the way it cut you off from the world more thoroughly even than blindness. Hearing enveloped you, connected you to your surroundings. And though she could see, it was always like she was watching from afar, a wall between her and the rest of the world.

The only time in the past years when she had felt fully connected to the world had been those few moments in Greg’s arms. The warmth of his body, the softness of his touch, the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin…all wore down that wall that separated her from the world.

But he was gone now. She understood he was a captain first, a man second, that he had to leave with the other civilians, had to rescue those he could. Still, it hurt. She wanted him…needed him.

She hugged her arms around herself, trying to squeeze the terror from her own body. The burst of courage she had been riding since seeing a grendel for the first time had waned to a simple will to survive, to continue moving forward.

Tom stirred beside her, petting Bane as he stood watch. Kowalski guarded the opposite side of the hall. The tension kept their faces locked in a stoic expression, eyes staring unblinkingly.

She imagined she appeared the same.

The waiting wore on them all. They kept expecting an attack that never came. The Russians…the grendels…

She followed Tom’s blank stare down the hall. She recalled her earlier discussion with Dr. Ogden.

The biologist had developed a theory about the grendels’ social structure. He imagined that the species spent a good chunk of their life span in frozen hibernation. A good way to conserve energy in an environment so scant on resources. But to protect the frozen pod, one or two sentinels remained awake, guarding their territory. These few hunted the surrounding waters through sea caves connected to the Crawl Space or scoured the surface through natural or man-made egress points. While exploring down here, Ogden had found spots in the Crawl Space that looked like claws had dug a grendel free from its icy slumber. He had his theory: “The guardians must change shift every few years, slipping into slumber themselves to rest and allowing a new member to take over. It’s probably why they’ve remained hidden for so long. Only one or two remain active, while the rest slumber through the centuries. There’s no telling how long these things have been around, occasionally brushing into contact with mankind, leading to myths of dragons and snow monsters.”

“Or Beowulf’s Grendel,” Amanda had added. “But why have they stayed here on this island for so long?”

Ogden had this answer, too. “The island is their nest. I examined some of the smaller caves in the cliff face and found frozen offspring, only a few, but considering the creatures’ longevity, I wager few progeny are necessary to maintain their breeding pool. And as with most species with small litters, the social group as a whole will defend their nest tooth and nail.”

But where are they now? Amanda wondered. Fire would not hold the grendels at bay forever, not if they were defending their nest.

Tom swung around, clearly attracted by some noise.

She turned and looked. The group by the ventilation shaft stirred. She immediately saw why. A length of red rope snaked from the opening, dangling to the floor. Jenny had made it to the top.

The group gathered closer.

Craig faced them with a hand up. His lips were illuminated by his lantern. “To minimize the load on the rope, we should go up in groups of three. I’ll go with the two women.” He pointed to Amanda and Magdalene. “Then Dr. Ogden and his two students. Then the Navy pair with the dog.”

He stared around, waiting to see if there were any objections.

Amanda glanced around herself. No one seemed to be disagreeing. And she surely wasn’t going to. She was with the first group. Without any protests, Craig helped Magdalene up, then offered a hand to her.

She waved for him to go ahead. “I’ve been climbing all my life.”