Jeannie somehow slipped out from behind his back and froze at the sight of the rushing horde. The wind covered the sound of their heavy footfalls. Her mouth opened in a big, terrified O and was quickly filled with the hand of one of the bat men. He drove her to the ground, seemingly trying to choke her with his hand.

  Dallas went to grab the back of the man’s neck and was hit from behind. It felt like being tackled by a gorilla. As he fell, he twisted partway around, just in time to see a spear lash out in the space where his head had been a moment before. C-Rod impaled one of the men through the temple. As the dead man started to fall on Dallas, C-Rod went with him, refusing to relinquish his hold on the spear until he could tug it free from the man’s shattered skull.

  He heard North cry out a split-second before he was buried under a dog pile of the bat men. They flailed their fists and drove their hard-knobbed knees into every square inch of his body. Dallas tried to curl into a protective ball.

  A particular shot to the bridge of his nose rang his bell. Everything went into soft focus and kept on dimming. Dallas fought to stay conscious, but in the end, passing out was a relief.

  Nichols stared from the ground, aghast at the pile of alien men pouring into the base. He, Holli and Sherm were surrounded by the bizarre chimeras. He didn’t need to speak their language to understand that if they moved, they were dead.

  Deafened by the storm, he imagined the sounds of breaking glass, shattering wood and bending metal.

  Worst of all, he kept hearing Jeannie’s desperate cries running through his head, begging him to save her. He hoped to God she was alive and well enough to do just that, and damned that same God for separating them.

  The shock kept him from worrying about hypothermia, which would be settling in soon enough. He did know he’d rather freeze to death than find himself in the jaws of the snorting creatures. Wishing for a merciful death seemed the only thing any of them could do right now. The South Pole was as unforgiving as a reptile. There was no room for error, and with Freedom Base being demolished just as the Amundsen-Scott Base had been obliterated, Nichols and his small crew were sure to meet the same fate.

  At least you’ll have fewer condolence letters and insurance payouts to send this time around, he thought bitterly of his bosses.

  Holli reached for his hand and he took it. A gust of wind sent the trio sliding on their asses until their backs hit the warped base outer wall.

  He did still have the gun.

  Nichols knew it would be impossible to shoot their way out of this. Not that they had much in the way of firepower.

  What he could do was save them from a grisly end. If needed, he would take out Holli, Sherm, and then look for Jeannie. But only when and if the time was right. He prayed he’d know it when it came. If there were no bullets left for him, then that would have to do. Most people didn’t get to choose how they die, and no one was promised a peaceful, easy passing.

  He took off his glove for a moment to feel around for the gun. The cold instantly went through his bones, turning his flesh to ice. Instead of putting his glove back on, he kept his hand thrust deep into his pocket, the Glock safely in his palm.

  As if everything weren’t bad enough, the ground rumbled mightily once again, the latest tremor lasting impossibly longer than the last. Nichols let go of the gun and grabbed Holli and Sherm by their jackets, holding them close as they bounced up and down as if they were in a child’s jumping castle.

  A piercing light blossomed on the horizon and for a moment, Nichols thought someone had dropped a nuclear bomb. The sudden burst of brilliance hurt his eyes and he had to quickly look away before it blinded him.

  What the hell was going on in what was supposed to be one of the most uneventful sectors of the planet?

  He squinted at Holli, saw her moving her mouth now that she’d pulled down her balaclava but couldn’t read her lips through the light fog in his goggles.

  The ground quaked, the base shook, the light faded, and the horrific creatures crept closer and closer.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Once the pall of endless night returned, the unholy tremors ceased as well. Nichols raised his head and came face-to-face with one of the beasts. Its black lips were pulled back, fangs bared, dripping with saliva that froze at his feet. The glare from his headlamp bounced along the creature’s nightmare-inducing visage.

  Not daring to rise to his feet, he happily turned away to look at Freedom Base. The entire entryway had been reduced to rubble. Dozens of men stood before the wreckage, silent and waiting. But for what?

  “The wind,” Holli said.

  At first, Nichols ignored her, thinking her voice was just another bit of conjuring in his head.

  “It stopped,” she added.

  Now he did look at her. Her goggles sat high on her cap and her balaclava was yanked down under her chin, cracks and shards of ice hanging from it.

  She was right. All of the madness had ceased in an instant. The sudden silence and stillness was more chilling than the weather.

  “I think it’s best we don’t make any sudden moves,” Nichols said, whispering. One of the beasts cocked its massive head as if trying to decipher his words.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Sherm said. The albino nose of one of the animals was sniffing at his Big Red. Sherm cowered against the wall, unable to get away from the inquisitive beast.

  “Where are Jeannie and everyone else?” Holli asked. Her teeth were chattering.

  It was the question that consumed Nichols. He didn’t have an answer, so he didn’t even try to provide one. He had a very strong, devastating suspicion, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.

  “You should shoot that one right between the eyes,” Holli said, nodding at the creature closest to Nichols.

  “What good would that accomplish?” he shot back, still keeping his voice down. The beast snorted, its vile breath invading his nose and lungs.

  “Because I’ll bet they’ve never seen or heard anything like it. Hit them with something unknown and they’ll go running. Just like punching a bully in the face.”

  He looked at her as if she had become unhinged. Perhaps they all had. “These are no bullies, Hols. What’s to say I shoot this one and the others go in for the kill?”

  Holli looked to Sherm, his eyes wide and alert, then to the creatures and the men guarding the ruined entrance. “At least we go down fighting. Empty the gun in as many as you can and let’s hope the religious nuts are right and we get a one way pass to Heaven for being murdered in a shit show like this.”

  He wanted to tell her she was crazy, but part of him suspected she might be right.

  “I’m not doing a damn thing until I find out what happened to Jeannie.”

  “We may freeze to death before that happens,” Sherm said. The light from his headlamp started to dim. How long would it be before they ran out of light as well?

  A silent commotion rippled through the men. Their mouths opened and closed like gasping fish in eerie unison. The men closest to the entrance hustled backwards, shifting everyone else behind them.

  One of them emerged, carrying a body over his shoulder. He dumped the body in the snow. Nichols was able to make out C-Rod’s bloody and battered face. North was dropped beside him, followed by Dallas and Jeannie.

  Dear God, Jeannie!

  He couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive.

  Nichols jumped to his feet, prepared to run to her. The creature barreled its snout into his chest, sending him sprawling.

  He pulled his hand from his pocket and shoved the gun in the animal’s face. “Get the hell away from me,” he shouted, as if it could understand him.

  “Shoot it, Nichols!” Holli encouraged him. She had taken out a knife from her pocket and cut the rope connecting them. All sense of safety and common sense had flown the coop.

  Nichols took a step toward where Jeannie and the others lay.

  The creature stomped with him.

  The men turned as one to stare at him.

  “I mean it,” he said, his breath curling like hookah smoke. He swiveled the gun at the men. They stared at it with their blank expressions and ebony eyes. His eyes flicked to Jeannie, looking for any sign she was still among the living.

  Holli kept shouting at him to shoot. Sherm countered her commands by imploring him not to shoot.

  His heart whapped against his ribcage. Despite the cold, sweat droplets formed and froze on his brow and upper lip.

  What should he do?

  It was wrong to endanger his entire crew just because he was concerned about his wife. It was the reason they rarely sent couples to the Pole. A conflict of interest could prove deadly down here.

  Except they were already doomed.

  And when he died, he wanted to do so beside Jeannie.

  He took two long strides toward his wife’s prone body.

  Two of the creatures scampered to stand in his way, roaring so loud, it hurt his ears.

  He roared back, not with his mouth, but with the barrel of his gun.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The bullet tore through the eye of the beast closest to Nichols. Its eyeball popped with such force, it exploded like a geyser, painting Nichols with blood and viscera. The bizarre animal reared back onto its powerful hind legs and wailed, falling onto its back. It writhed on the ground with such ferocity, Nichols had to shove Holli and Sherm out of the way so they weren’t crushed by its flailing limbs.

  Holli had been right…partially. The other creatures backed away, but they hadn’t fled. Nichols wasn’t sure if they were frightened by the gun or the pained gyrations of their brethren. Even the bat men had trained their unsettling attention on the wounded beast, not one of them making a move to help it.

  It didn’t matter. It gave Nichols the opening to run to Jeannie.

  Nichols slipped in his haste but was quick to regain his feet. He ripped his balaclava down, the cold biting his lips, making his teeth feel as if he’d bitten into a gallon of ice cream. “Jeannie!”

  He scooped her into his arms, his un-gloved hand numb. It took some effort to get his fingers to brush the hair away from her face. Blood had frozen where it trickled from her nose. She had the makings of a hell of a shiner under one eye. He tried to feel for a pulse but his hand was dead. He removed his other glove with his teeth and felt around her neck.

  There it was. She was alive!

  Jeannie groaned, her lips parting slightly.

  Holli kept her flashlight trained on the gathering of bat men, Sherm and the creatures that looked to be recovering from their initial trepidation.

  Nichols stared at the men who had lost interest in their wounded pet. His eyes flashed with hate.

  “You bald freaks!”

  A volcano of anger swelled through Nichols. He used his non-frozen left hand and fired into the crowd. Being right handed, his shots went wild, though one caught a man in his stomach. His eyes widened as he stared at the blossoming wound. His knees buckled and he fell onto his side, never once uttering a sound.

  Nichols pulled the trigger until the slide locked back on an empty magazine. He looked back at the base, wondering if there was any safe space left for them. It was highly doubtful. What little they could see thanks to their flashlights and headlamps revealed total destruction.

  The bat men kept their ground, utterly uninterested in the one Nichols had shot.

  He heard scuffling in the snow and whipped around to see Sherm running for the base.

  Coward, he seethed. Did he think he was going to be safe in there?

  Nichols tensed, rocking Jeannie in his lap. He waited for the inevitable.

  “Where are we?”

  Jeannie reached up and touched the frozen blood in his beard.

  He instantly forgot about everything else. When she tried to push herself up he held her down. “Easy. Easy. Take stock before you rock.”

  It was what she would always say to him whenever they were out spelunking or white water rafting or on any of their adventures and he’d taken a tumble. Before popping up and declaring himself a-ok, she wanted him to sit back and quietly assess the damage.

  Jeannie grimaced, the closest she could get to a grin. She looked around.

  “It’s so dark and cold. Did we lose power?”

  “We’re outside, honey.”

  A flash of shock quickly passed as realization set in. “They came for us.”

  Nichols nodded. She didn’t have a hat or balaclava. He’d have to find one, soon. His own were encased in bloody ice and would only make things worse. The fact that she wasn’t shivering worried him.

  “We’re outside,” he said. “They destroyed the base.”

  “Where are they? Did they leave?”

  He tilted her so she could see them when he swept his headlamp in their direction. They gazed at the couple as if they were part of some intriguing science experiment.

  “Not good,” she said, grimacing as she turned away. She reached up and cradled her head. “One of them kicked me in the head like it was a goddamn football.”

  Nichols wished there were a way they could tell the bat men apart so he could make tearing its head off his final act. If there was such a thing as karma, the one he’d shot had been Jeannie’s aggressor.

  Not that he believed in karma. Not now, not here. If karma was real, what in the holy hell had they done in their many lives to deserve this?

  “Why are they just standing there?” she asked.

  “I think they’re content to just watch us freeze to death.”

  A drop of blood splattered on Jeannie’s jacket.

  Nichols checked to see if he had a bloody nose. He didn’t.

  More blood dripped on his wife to the point where he had to pull away.

  She pointed at his face. “It’s melting.”

  He wiped his beard, his hand coming away wet and crimson.

  How?

  The goop from the beast he’d shot left crimson splatter marks in the snow. Nichols flexed the fingers of his exposed hands. The numbness was leaching away.

  He looked over at Holli who had removed her hood and hat. “What’s happening?” she said.

  He didn’t have a clue.

  “Fuck me sideways,” Dallas grumbled. He was on all fours, spitting into the snow. His head swiveled toward Nichols. “They wreck the place?”

  “Yeah.”

  The bat men seemed closer than they had been before. The wind was non-existent, which was rarer than Christmas in July. The temperature was rising fast. Nichols felt himself starting to sweat.

  Dallas nudged C-Rod and North until they were awake.

  “If we’re outside, why do I feel so damn hot?” Dallas said.

  Nichols was about to reply when a blood-curdling scream snatched the words from his mouth.

  Sherm came bursting from the wrecked base wielding a spear in each hand. He ran the spears into the nearest bat-man, driving it to the ground. He stepped on the man’s chest and pulled the spears free, blood hissing in a fountain.

  He tossed a spear to Nichols. “Come on!”

  The man had come unglued. He was no coward. He was going to die on his own terms.

  Holli ran for the spear.

  Sherm held his spear like a lance and ran at another of the bat men, a war cry echoing in the night. Before the tip could penetrate the man’s chest, two muscular hands grabbed the spear and stopped its forward momentum cold. With a flick of the wrist, the spear was wrested from Sherm’s grasp.

  Nichols snatched the spear away from Holli.

  He hurried to get to Sherm after gently laying Jeannie down.

  A pair of bat men had positioned themselves on either side of Sherm, while the one he’d tried to kill snapped the spear, which had been the thick handle of a shovel, as if it were made of straw.

  A chorus of roars sounded to Nichols’ left.

  He had to get to Sherm before it was too late.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nichols saw C-Rod out of the corner of his eye making a beeline toward Sherm as well. He wasn’t sure if it was a suicide mission at this point, but Nichols couldn’t just sit back and idly watch his teammate die.

  He was only a few feet from Sherm, who now had both his arms in the clutches of the bat men, when his world was suddenly flipped end over end. His lower back throbbed and his headlamp flew off, surrendering him into dizzying pitch-blackness. Was that Jeannie screaming? He was weightless, confused, and blind.

  It didn’t last long.

  Nichols landed on his side, all his breath exploding from his burning lungs. Legs kicking out, he struggled for air. He heard a heavy thud beside him, and felt the presence of something large looming close by, but all that mattered was getting one precious breath.

  It mercifully came just as he started to see white sparks exploding in the corners of his eyes. He rolled onto his back, drawing in air greedily, his body aching but muscles relaxing.

  Something touched his arm.

  “You all right, boss?”

  It was C-Rod. He was so close, but Nichols couldn’t see a thing.

  “No, but I’ll live.”

  When he sat up, ripples of pain shot from his lower back to the base of his skull.

  There were more screams.

  It was Jeannie.

  And Holli.

  Dallas and North were shouting as well.

  “Where are they?” Nichols said.

  C-Rod had a hold on the sleeve of his jacket and wouldn’t let go. “I don’t know. What the hell happened to us?”

  As if in answer, Nichols heard a heavy snort and recoiled at the stench rolling over them.

  “I think we got flipped by one of those things.”

  “Makes sense,” C-Rod said. “My legs feel like they got whacked with a Louisville Slugger.”

  Nichols looked for Holli’s flashlight and headlamp. He thought he saw it for a moment but it seemed to hide behind something blacker than the pitch. It was then he realized the light was being blocked by the massive creature standing in front of him.

 

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