Ice Hunt

Matt nodded, silently agreeing. They needed cover. It was death to stay out here. Surely the submarine’s hydrophones had heard their Cat trundling over the ice. The Russians would know they were here.

O’Do

“Hang on!” O’Do

Matt rubbed his head and sat back. Now he tells me.

Greer clutched the seat back in front of him. “O’Do

“I see them, sir!”

Matt glanced over to the sub. Men in white parkas climbed to the top of the sub’s flying bridge. Arms pointed toward them.

The Sno-Cat made a sharp turn, racing toward the base’s opening.

“Slow down!” Craig yelled from the front seat, arms braced against the dashboard.

Matt’s eyes widened as he realized what the driver intended. “You’ve got to be kidding…”

O’Do

Gunfire suddenly erupted. Slugs tore into the back end of the Cat, sounding as if someone had tossed a flaming bundle of firecrackers into their trunk. The noise deafened. Glass shattered out of the rear window.

Matt might have shouted, but it was hard to tell.

Then the Cat hit the tu

O’Do

The passengers became a tangle of flailing limbs. More glass showered upon them.

Matt caught a glimpse of steel doors in the headlamps ahead.

Then they struck with an impact that slammed everyone forward. Matt flew over the front seat, striking the windshield with his shoulder. The window popped from its frame. He rolled out onto the hood, half draped in safety glass. He slid all the way to the floor beyond, landing in a graceless heap in front.

At least they had stopped.

“Are you all right?” Craig asked as Matt pushed to his feet. The reporter leaned forward out the cab. His scalp injury had reopened. Blood trailed over his face.

“Better than you,” Matt answered, testing his limbs to make sure he wasn’t lying.

O’Do

Matt surveyed the state of their transportation. The Sno-Cat was jammed in the doorway, a plug in a storm drain. “Nothing like door-to-door service.”

“Everybody out!” Greer ordered from the backseat, retrieving his weapon from the floor. He pointed toward Matt and the station.

The doors were pi

“Move deeper down!” Greer yelled as he climbed through last, waving them ahead. “The Sno-Cat’s wreckage will slow the Russians, but who knows for how long.”

As a group, they hurried down the passage. Greer caught up with Matt. He shoved a 9mm Beretta pistol at him. “Do you know how to use this?”

“I served in the Green Berets.”

Greer glanced harder at him, judging him anew, then slapped the gun into his hand. “Good, then you won’t shoot your goddamn foot off.”

Matt hefted the weapon. “Not unless it would get me out of this mess.”

Within a few more yards, the entrance tu

It was empty.

“Where is everyone?” Matt asked.

Ru

“They’re gone,” Pearlson said, shocked.

“Evacuated,” Greer corrected. “The Polar Sentinel must have gotten wind of the attack and come directly here. Cleared the base.”

“Great,” Matt said. “We came all the way out here to warn them, and they’ve already rolled up shop.”

“What are we going to do?” Craig asked, half his face bloody, the other half ashen.

Greer continued taking them deeper. “There’s an old weapons locker on the third level. Grenades, old rifles. We’ll grab as much as we can carry.”

“Then what?”

“We hide. We survive.”

“I like the last part of your plan,” Matt said.

As they reached the third level, gunfire suddenly sounded, echoing to them. It didn’t come from above them — but below.

“Someone’s still here,” Craig said, eyes wide.

“It sounds like it came from the level just under us,” Pearlson said.

“Let’s go!” Greer led the way.

As they set off, an explosion blasted from above. Everyone froze again.

“The Russians,” Matt said.

“Hurry!” Greer ordered and continued down the stairs.

Voices called out above them. Orders shouted in Russian. Footsteps echoed, ru

Craig and Matt fled down the steps after Greer. Pearlson and O’Do

It was empty, too. But a set of double doors blocked the far end.

“The Crawl Space,” Pearlson said behind them.

“It’s a good place to hide,” Greer said. “A fucking maze. C’mon!”

“But who was shooting?” Craig asked as they ran.

Matt wanted to know, too.

Greer frowned and growled, “Pray it’s our guys.”

Matt took the lieutenant’s suggestion to heart. They needed reinforcements. But this, of course, begged another question.

If it was the good guys, what were they shooting at?

9. Dead End

In the gloom of the bone nest, the massive creature crept toward Amanda’s hiding place, hunched, suspicious, unsure. Its maw gaped open, teeth bloody. Claws still trailed shredded bits of Lacy’s racing suit.

Pressing deeper into the crack in the ice, Amanda sensed an ultrasonic wailing from the grendel, which she felt in her jawbone, the roots of her teeth, the hairs on the back of her neck. It kept her frozen, like a rabbit in headlights.

Go away, she begged with all her heart. She had been holding her breath for so long, stars began to glow across her vision. She dared not exhale. Small rivulets of cold sweat ran down her exposed face.

Please…

The grendel approached within a foot of her niche. Silhouetted against the glow from the outer cavern, the beast’s features were shadowed. Only its two eyes still captured some of the light reflected off the ice walls.

Crimson…bloody…emotionless and as cold as the press of ice overhead.

Amanda met that gaze, knowing she would die.

Then the beast whipped its head around, back toward the exit tu

But the beast ignored her and shambled fully around, facing the tu

Amanda had no way of knowing what it heard. Was someone coming? Was Co

Whatever it was, the grendel lashed its tail a few times, then dashed toward the tu

Amanda remained in her niche for one long, trembling shake, then fell out. She stumbled over to the tu