Though little snow fell day to day in Antarctica, thousands of years of the accumulated stuff was picked up by the increasing gusts and formed a curtain that hid the gruesome sight of the Hunter feeding upon the soldier.
Jane grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him away. “We can’t help him now and we need to go before it comes for us.”
They headed off across the ice, jumped across the crack and ran.
Jane glanced at her companion as he slung the rifle over his shoulder. “What’s the plan, Jack?” She was confident he would have one.
“If we head for the back of the iceberg where the Americans are working at the tunnel, we should be able to attract someone’s attention to come rescue us.”
“Then we fly back to New Zealand and never come back.”
Jack looked her skeptically. “Whatever you’re offered?”
Jane nodded. “Nothing’s worth the risk of facing these alien monsters again. Greed brought me back, but it won’t a second time.”
Jack glanced behind for any sign the Hunter was in pursuit, but the weather had quickly grown worst, impeding his vision after a few yards. He looked ahead. They had a long way to go before they could hope to be rescued, but the worsening weather, for once, might actually help them. If they couldn’t see, neither could the Hunter. He glanced at Jane running beside him. Though they had only recently met, he already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He was almost certain she felt the same towards him. In a few months, if he could wait that long, he would ask her to marry him.
As if sensing his eyes upon her, Jane turned her head to look at Jack. She wondered the reason for the thoughtful expression he wore, which quickly changed to a smile.
Jane screamed when she fell.
When Jane disappeared, Jack skidded to a halt.
A piercing shriek answered the scream. The Hunter was on their trail and now it knew roughly where they were.
Jack gazed in horror at the hole in the ice that had swallowed Jane. The claw marks covering the sides of the sloping shaft identified who had dug it―the Hunters. This was how they escaped from the spaceship. He fell to his knees and peered into its dark depths. “Jane!” he shouted.
Jane’s surprised scream uttered when she fell, turned to a painful groan when her back jarred against the ice. The roof of the ice tunnel speeding by filled her vision. She dug her heels into the ice, marginally slowing her rapid descent and regretted the lack of an ice axe that might have halted her slide. The flashlight she aimed past her legs revealed nothing helpful; the tunnel seemed to go on forever. After a few moments and a long uncomfortable ride, thankfully cushioned by the padding of her extreme weather clothing, the beam picked out the tunnel’s end twenty feet away and the nothingness beyond. Something glinted in the light―a piece of metal protruded past the entrance. When she reached the end of the tunnel her hands grabbed at the object and gripped it tightly, swinging her out over a dark void. The flashlight swaying from her wrist highlighted the tree canopy below.
The thing Jane hung from, and that had prevented her from plummeting to the ground, bent slightly with a metallic groan. Though reluctant to do so, Jane released her hold with one hand, grabbed the flashlight hanging from her wrist and shone it above her. She immediately recognized what the light picked out―the transparent roof of Hell’s Garden. She hooked a thumb under the plastic handle of the flashlight, re-established her hold on the metal bar, and moved along it until she could grab one of the metal window sections that seemed more firmly attached. She swung her legs up, hooked them over the frame and was thankful for the pressure released from her arms.
“Jane!”
Jane tilted her head back and gazed up the tunnel on hearing Jack’s worried voice. “I’m okay. A little battered, but nothing broken,” she shouted back. “You need to find a rope so I can climb out.”
Though Jack was relieved Jane had survived the fall and wasn’t injured, there was still the problem of rescuing her. Where the hell am I going to find a rope? Jack fretted. The helicopter was his only hope. If not, he didn’t know what he would do.
“There might be a rope in the crashed helicopter.” Jack rushed off to find out.
Jane glanced below. She couldn’t believe she was aboard the spaceship and in Hell’s Garden again. Her ears strained to hear any sounds of creatures that might be moving through the undergrowth. Apart from a slight rustle of vegetation caused by the chill draft funneled down the tunnel, all was still. The lack of movement inspired no confidence in her that there weren’t any monsters below.
“Be as quick as you can,” she shouted up the tunnel.
The Hunter headed towards the voices. When it arrived at the hole and saw no sign of the humans, it glanced around. It was about to chase after the dark form moving swiftly away before the swirling snow concealed its presence when a voice drifted from the hole.
“Be as quick as you can.”
The Hunter’s lips formed into a cruel snarl when it climbed into the hole and dug its claws into the ice to prevent it sliding down the chute.
Wary of the one-eyed Hunter prowling the iceberg, Jack constantly scanned his surroundings for any sign of it, but the snow and ice borne by the increasing wind hampered his vision. The Hunter would probably be upon him before he realized it was there. While he ran he checked the weapon in the hope he would discover why it didn’t work. He pressed, prodded and slapped various parts of the rifle until something clicked into place. Hoping he had fixed whatever had caused it to fail before, he held it ready to fire.
When he arrived back at the crack in the ice, he followed it until he arrived at a place where the edges were close enough for him to leap across. No sooner had his feet touched the ice when the iceberg trembled. Though it only lasted a few seconds, Jack knew it didn’t bode well for the iceberg’s stability. A short distance later he spied the dark shape of the mangled helicopter. He approached cautiously with the weapon raised to fire, but when he had circumnavigated the wreck without spying any sign of the Hunter, he moved closer.
Avoiding more than a brief look at Northwood’s gruesome remains surrounded by bloodstained snow, Jack peered through the broken windscreen into the cockpit. The pilot’s headless corpse, still strapped upright in the seat, showed signs of having being feasted upon. Jack averted his gaze and examined the space behind the pilot seats. The Hunter wasn’t inside. The helicopter was so crushed, Jack didn’t waste time trying to open the other door now facing the heavens; it would most likely be jammed shut, he entered through the broken canopy. Metal groaned when his weight rocked the helicopter. A tapping, like that of a ticking clock’s pendulum, turned Jack towards the sound. He snatched up the radio mic swinging from the console and pressed the talk button.
Even though the lack of static indicated it probably wasn’t working, Jack nevertheless, tried. “This is Jack speaking from the iceberg. Can anyone hear me? Over.”
Jack released his finger from the talk button. There was no reply. He tried twice more before giving up.
A search of the seating area and storage cupboards in the back produced a coil of rope, a flare gun, a first-aid kit and a rucksack to store them in. He added the bottle of water he glimpsed under a seat before returning outside. The flare he fired into the sky was their only chance of help if someone on the ship noticed it; however, the worsening weather made it unlikely. Jack turned to leave. A man’s voice brought him to a halt after only a few steps.
“Lieutenant Northwood, this is Starlight Control. Report your situation. We have lost all contact with your helicopter.”
Jack turned. The voice had come from Northwood’s bloody corpse. Realizing he must have a radio, Jack rushed over and grimaced at the horrific sight of the man’s ripped-open chest. Though Jack had no medical experience, it was obvious by the broken ribs and empty cavity that the Hunter had feasted on the man’s internal organs.