Now poor Alex would never speak again. Never breathe, never eat or see his sweet little girl, and all she could do was find cloud shapes in the ice.
No. No, that wasn’t all she could do. She was alive, wasn’t she? She had no idea what or how or if she’d die in the process, but she was going to find some way to stop these men. Now.
* * *
Something wasn’t right.
Coop already knew that, but he hadn’t seen Cortez out here—or any sign of him on the ice at all—and as he drove on, the feeling of unease grew and ripened inside him like a rotten fruit about to explode.
A lot of vehicles seemed out of commission lately, so he’d been forced to bring the big PistenBully out to fix the drill he’d been unable to repair on-site. He’d have to haul it back and pull it apart. Besides, he’d figured he’d be able to bring Cortez back if his friend had run into an issue. Now he pushed the machine as fast as it would go, wishing he’d taken a snowmobile instead.
He approached his field research site, watching the horizon…and pulled to a stop.
He confirmed his current coordinates on the GPS unit and looked up again.
Usually, he’d see his site from here. Today, there was nothing.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled up beside his site.
Or what had been his site.
He threw open the door and jumped to the ice. Nothing remained but a hole in the ground, along with a few discarded items—including the bright-red tent that had protected his drill through all kinds of weather.
His drill, dammit. His life’s work.He’ddesigned and built the damned thing. He’d dug the hole and put it in the ground.
Jesus, who the hell would steal another scientist’s work, not to mention the tools they needed to do their work?
He picked up the tent and threw it to the side. They hadn’t just taken his drill; they’d slashed the fabric, smashed the rest of his on-site gear to smithereens, and ground it all into the ice in what felt like a deliberate insult.
Whoever had done this didn’t just want to steal from him, they wanted to screw him. Hard.
Head thrumming with foreboding, he climbed back into the tractor and set off for the next site on his route.
Chapter 7
This was fear. Not her usual fear of being alone in the arches or the uneasiness of staring across the ice and knowing she meant nothing at all.
This was terror that had changed her for good. It sparked things she’d never be able to control on her own, ignited entirely new systems in her body, rearranged them into popping, cracking networks of reactivity. Synapses? Was that the word? Or just nerves that she was no longer in command of. Like when a driving instructor took over the car, she felt a weird sort of relief.I don’t have to do anything. I’m not in charge anymore.
The other man—who looked like Ben Wong, another of the new crew members—went to one side of the arch and returned dragging something big, which he flopped down onto the floor. A shipping case, maybe?
Then, once he’d lined it up, he pulled a long metal tube from its slot along the wall and dropped it into the box with a loud thud.
“Watch out with those,” Sampson said, sounding peeved. “No payload, no pay, remember.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. We’ve gotta move.” He spoke into whatever communication device they were using. “Bravo Team, to the generators.”
Sampson headed away from her, leaving behind the inanimate lump that was once Alex Stickley without so much as a backward glance.
Angel looked on as terror stoked something inside her. Energy? Courage? She wasn’t sure, but it ran through her body like a jolt of electricity.
Whatever it was spurred her to step over her half-empty sled, careful to walk on her tiptoes.
Angel’s eyes slid to the side, where bags of rice filled most of the metal shelves. Farther up, where Ben worked, was nothing but row after row of those metal tubes. Could Ben see her crouched down here? Maybe not. Maybe her silhouette blended in with the bulk supplies.
Once all five cylinders were loaded into the case, Ben grabbed the handle and started pulling—right toward Angel. She popped back behind the shelf and waited, wishing she could roll herself into a tiny ball, but she was stuck in this too-tight, too-visible place.
