And she did one other thing at each stop.
“I’m still following the trail of green diamonds. But please be careful. The predator that killed Lacy and Connor is still loose somewhere in these tunnels.”
In Matt’s pocket, the radio passed to him by Greer continued to relay this lost woman’s saga. He had already tried to raise her, but she either couldn’t pick up the signal or had some malfunction with her radio. Whatever the reason, Matt had his own problems.
He continued his mad flight down the ice tunnel, empty pistol in hand, flashlight in the other.
Five minutes ago, the solitary hunter had charged into the crossroads, separating Matt from the two Navy men, filling the passage. The pair had opened fire, trying to buy Matt time to flee.
It hadn’t worked.
After a moment’s hesitation, the beast gave chase — a lioness running down the lone gazelle.
With nothing but an empty pistol in hand, Matt ran headlong down the tunnel, slipping and sliding down steep traverses. He barely kept his footing. His shoulders struck with bruising force against walls and outcroppings. But he refused to slow down. He had already seen how fast a bullet-riddled monster moved. He feared the speed of a healthy, undamaged specimen.
For a few long minutes, he had seen no evidence of the monster. Maybe it had slipped away. Even the fuzzy feeling in his head had quieted. It was as if something emanated from them, something outside the wavelength of ordinary hearing.
Now it had vanished.
Dare he hope the beast was gone with it?
The radio crackled again. “Please…if you can hear this, bring help. Bring guns! I’m still on the green diamond trail.”
What the hell did that mean? Green diamond trail. It sounded like a Lucky Charms cereal advertisement.
“I’ve not seen any sign of the grendel now for the past forty-five minutes. It seems to have disappeared. Maybe it fled.”
Matt scrunched his brow. Grendel? Was that what had attacked them? If so, it seemed this woman knew more about what was down here than anyone else did.
He raced around a corner, skidding on his heels, spinning to make the turn. Ahead the tunnel diverged into two passages. The beam of his flashlight caught a flash of odd color against the ice. A blue circle was painted at the threshold to the right, a green diamond on the left.
Trail markers
Understanding dawned. He chose the left tunnel and continued running, still watching his back, but now also searching for the next green diamond.
Hell, if I’m running, I might as well run toward someone who knows what the hell is going on down here.
Matt continued, winding this way and that. Gravity and the slick slope pulled him deeper and deeper — and still there was no sign of the woman on the radio. It was endless dark ice, and he moved in a glowing blue grotto, lit by his lone flashlight.
“Hello!” The call this time did not come through the radio. It came from ahead of him.
Matt skated around another bend, one hand against the ice wall to balance himself. His flashlight beam rounded the corner and illuminated a strange sight: a tall and shapely woman, naked, painted blue, like some Inuit goddess.
He skidded toward her, realizing that she wasn’t naked but instead wore some skintight pale blue unitard, its hood pulled up. She also wore a mining helmet crooked on her head. Its lamp shone in his eyes.
“Thank God!” she cried, hurrying toward him.
Her features became clear when she switched off her lamp. The confusion in her eyes spread over her face.
“Who are you?” She glanced past him. “Where are the others?”
“If you’re looking for a rescue party, you’ll have to settle for me.” He lifted the useless pistol in his hand. “Though I’m not sure I’m going to do you much good.”
“And you are?” she asked again. Her words were slightly slurred, her voice unusually loud. Was she drunk?
“Matthew Pike, Alaskan Fish and Game.”
“Fish and Game?” Her confusion deepened. “Could you lower your flashlight? I…I’m deaf, and I’m having trouble reading your lips against the glare.”
He lowered his light. “Sorry. I’m one of the group being shuttled from Omega.”
She nodded, understanding. But suspicion also glinted. “What’s going on? Where’s everyone else?”
“The station’s been evacuated. The Russians attacked Omega.”
“My God…I don’t understand.”
“And they’re now in the process of commandeering the facility here, too. But what about you? Who are you? Why are you down here alone?”
She moved closer, but her eyes flickered between him and the tunnel behind him. “I’m Dr. Amanda Reynolds. Head of Omega Drift Station.” She told him an abbeviated, hurried story of missing scientists and the sudden attack by the giant ice predator.
“You called them grendels over the walkie-talkie,” he said as she finished her bloody tale. “Like you knew about them.”
“We found frozen remains here. Down in some ice cavern. They were supposed to be fifty thousand years old, dating back to the last ice age. Some type of extinct species.”
Extinct, my ass, he thought. Aloud he related his own experiences since the Russian attack, keeping a watch on the tunnels with his flashlight.
“So there’s more than one grendel…” she mumbled, her voice a whisper. “Of course, there must be. But how have they remained hidden for so long?”
“They’re not hiding now. If this is some frozen nest, it’s too dangerous to remain down here. Do you know another trail to the surface? With what was on my scent, maybe we’d better get off this green diamond trail. Try another.”
She pointed forward. “This trail should lead to others. But I’m not that familiar with the Crawl Space. My guess is that they all end eventually at the exit.”
“Let’s hope so. C’mon.” Matt headed out, going slowly now, cautious, backtracking up. “We need to watch for any sign of the grendels: spoor, scratched marks in the ice. Avoid those areas.”
She nodded. He had to respect this woman. She had faced one of these beasts alone and survived. And now she sought to escape with nothing but a walkie-talkie and a small ice ax. All the while deaf to what might be out there.
“With a bit of luck,” she said, “we won’t run into any more of them.”
Matt turned just as a wave of buzzing cut through his skull, rattling the tiny bones in his ears.
He felt a frantic clutch on his elbow. Amanda pulled beside him. Even deaf, she must have felt the reverberation. And from the way her fingers cut into his right biceps, she knew its implication.
Their luck had just run out.
10. Blood on the Ice
After an hour in front of the space heater, Jenny felt almost thawed — and oddly reenergized. Maybe it was the caffeine, maybe it was the morphine, maybe it was the stupidity of their plan.
Moments ago, word had reached them that the Russian submarine had left. This news came from a seaman who had been found hiding in one of the research shacks by the Russian forces and tossed into the barracks to join the rest of the captives. The seaman had witnessed the sub’s departure.
“Do you have any estimate of how many Russians are still here?” Lieutenant Sewell asked him, kneeling beside the newly arrived sailor.
The man shivered in his seat, his hands soaking in a bowl of warm water. His teeth chattered as he answered. “Not for certain, sir. I spotted some ten men, but there have to be more I didn’t see.”