Leah put her hand to her mouth. “So you’re saying Beckam and all his men…?”
Jack nodded. “He saved us. He and his SEALs gave their lives so we could escape.”
Leah stood silent, wiping away s few tears, working to regain her composure.
Jack’s mobile phone sounded. He glanced down at the screen. “Paulson’s calling me from Washington.”
“He can’t be looking for another adventure already.”
Jack winked as he took the call.
Leah watched as Jack said something about top secret, before he walked away a few steps and continued the call. She knew from experience that it wasn’t a conversation Jack was enjoying from the way his jaw clenched while nodding in agreement with what Paulson was saying.
When he disconnected the call, he let out a long sigh before returning to face Leah.
“I’ve been drafted too.”
Leah’s mouth dropped open. “No…. Don’t fuck with me, Jackson.”
Jack stuffed the phone in his pocket, unable to hide the grin creasing his sunburned face. “If I’d let Paulson continue talking, I likely would be. The government is hot to find more of these facilities, if any exist.” He walked over and wrapped his arm around Leah. “Are you as tired as I am?”
She nodded so that he could feel it.
“Man, I’ve had all the excitement I can handle for a while.”
Leah pulled back. “What? No new summits to climb? No rich tourists to guide? Do you really think you’ll be sticking around a while this time, Climber?”
Jack looked down at K’aalógii, then nodded. “Watching a sunrise over a tribe of 800-year-old cliff dwellers? Can it get any better than that?”
Leah pulled him closer. “Not from where I’m standing.”
EPILOGUE
She awoke on a hard, smooth surface that felt like polished stone. Fear competed with anger in her breast. Her last memories were of standing with her daughter K’aalógii, their spears brandished at the brilliant white light of the demon-gods — and the heat — and then… nothing.
The rest had been like a dream. The faceless bodies of the creatures standing over her. She unable to move even a finger to resist. She had watched them move about without seeming to touch the smooth floor.
She rolled off the strange surface with one fierce desire: to find K’aalógii and escape.
They seemed to be gone, at least for the moment. She recalled seeing them approach the smooth wall, just so, and place their small, delicate hands against the shape in the center. It had opened some sort of doorway, and then they’d left the chamber.
Approaching the wall, she tested the air, which felt thick and hot. Now that she was standing, her ears ached strangely, and she felt intense pressure at the front of her head. She glanced down — she was nude, the reed skirt gone. No matter. She had to find K’aalógii. Now.
She looked around the empty room, then back at the wall before her. Perhaps her daughter lay beyond the magic door. She reached forward, her hands shaking, flattened her palm, and pressed her hand against the smooth warm wall.
The door disappeared upward, just as it had done for her abductors, and she stepped into the smaller room beyond. When the door slammed, her ears popped and she felt faint as the crushing pressure against her body lifted, along with the hiss of compressed gas.
She shivered with the change in air pressure, as cooler air replaced the hot thick air of the larger cavern. In front of her lay another doorway, like the one she had just passed through. She hesitated and then reached forward again with her flattened palm. When the door flashed open, the shock of seeing the brilliant white of the snow and ice against the blue of the sky overcame the intense cold that flooded the smaller room. She stood with her mouth opened in awe, staring at the frozen world.
She stared for what seemed like forever, never feeling the biting cold as it penetrated her skin and worked its way to her core. She might have simply frozen to death — except the demons themselves appeared first.
She tried to scream but no sound escaped her throat.
She spun and ran back to the other door, put her hand over the symbol, and willed the door to open, but in her panic her hands missed the mark. She turned once and caught a glimpse of the creatures as they sped toward her in their smooth white skins. Just as they reached the threshold, she felt a shock run through her arm and down into her body.
She turned away, facing the door again, and pressed her palm against the symbol with all her might. The door flashed upward along with the crack of an explosion as the pressure inside rushed to fill the low-pressure void outside the room. Her pursuers were blown backward as they reached her.
She would have been thrown back with them into the whiteness, except that she’d slipped and fallen to the side of the doorway when the blast came. She tried to stand, but her feet slipped again on the frozen surface, and she fell anew. The inner door closed before she could get through it. A noise drew her attention to the outer door. The sound was deep, a loud rumble, as a cloud of white snow and ice roaring down the mountain. The avalanche piled through the outer door, trapping her on the floor. A million tons of snow and ice buried the doorway — and trapped her in place.
The soft blue glow lighting the inside of the cavern flickered twice, and then there was nothing but blackness — and the stones. K’aalógii’s mother curled into a ball on the smooth floor and cried for her daughter….
AFTERWORD
Thank you for reading ICE! I would love to know what you think of it. Please stop by my website www.writingthrillers.com and send me an email or drop in at Kevin Tinto on Facebook. If you enjoyed ICE please tell a friend or two. And please help out by rating ICE and writing a short review at Amazon. REVIEWS ARE EVERYTHING!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Producing a (readable) novel without a professional editor is like trying to make an Olympic team, without a coach. Ed Stackler is the best. There are plenty of editors who can correct messy English. Ed took ownership of my characters and plot lines, and guided me along throughout the twists and turns of ICE, many times, over a period of nearly TEN years. Without Ed’s guidance and professional help, ICE wouldn’t exist. Thanks Ed! www.fictioneditor.com
This book is dedicated to you, dear reader. Thank you for taking the journey with Leah, Jackson and crew. I sincerely hope ICE gave you the thrill ride that I intended. This is not the end, but just the beginning for the ICE crew! I hope you come back for more!
DEDICATION
I would also like to thank the following individuals for guiding me along the way. Mic Grandfield for his eagle eye, and knowledge of all things mechanical. Patrick Walraven, Samantha Parent, Kelly Houston, Jim and Janice Tinto, for wading through early drafts and still finding something to like. My wife Laurie for allowing me the freedom to risk my neck pursuing a plethora of hazardous activities, and unending support. Any tech-related mistakes in ICE, may, or may not be deliberate artistic choices. If you do catch something embarrassing, please drop me an email and let me know. I will be grateful.