Breath coming in hot and hard, she scrabbled at her pockets until she came up with her Maglite.Wait.If they hadn’t already heard her, then it was best not to alert them to her presence. But they’d figure out eventually that she was here. They’d think to search the tunnel, right? And the place was so unfamiliar, she needed a quick look. It was worth the risk.
She turned it on, blinked twice, then immediately slammed her eyes shut. They burned from the light and the cold, but mostly—oh, please no—they burned from what she’d just seen. In the split second after closing her eyes, she turned off the light again.
The image was seared into her corneas like a brand into skin. A body. A person, stretched out, frozen on the ice. Even now, on the backs of her lids, she couldn’t unsee the bright red Jackson Pollock-esque splashes and stains.
Jamie Cortez. Dead.
That man. That sweet, funny—
Stop. Think about it later.The important thing now was that there was no lock, no way to keep them out.
Something thumped just outside the door and her body went absolutely still. Only her eyes moved, along with her madly beating pulse—racing, racing, racing—until she pressed one gloved hand to the ice wall and forced herself forward. Each crunching step led her farther into the massive ice maze, like walking into a tomb. She counted out her own steps, heavy as death knells. One, two, three…
The door swung open behind her.
She lurched forward and around the first bend just as the light grazed her shoulder.
“Who is that? That you,Angel?” It was Sampson, his voice smooth and Southern, the charm as real as his bright-white smile. His light laugh made her curl in on herself. Or maybe that was the unbearable weight of his attention, after everything she’d witnessed.
Never had she felt so much like an animal. Prey, making itself as tiny as possible—playing dead and begging the hunter not to notice.
“That you, darlin’? Ford Cooper wouldn’t be down here hiding from me, would he? You guys are the only two we’re missing. Nah. Ain’t his style. It’s you, Angel. I can feel it. Heard you missed the plane.” He let out a low, sad sound. “Actually, word up there is that you decided to winter-over with the others.”
Slowly, she put a foot down on the hard-packed snow.Crunch. The sound was light, barely audible, yet too loud. Another step, another, each one painting a bigger, brighter target on her back. She had to get away or he’d kill her.
What was down this way? Impossible to remember after just one visit.
Didn’t matter. She had to move,now.
With Sampson’s slowly oscillating flashlight to show her the way, she forged ahead, doing her best to remember the layout. There were holes, lots of them, cut from the ice like false starts; tunnels that were never meant to be. Some were altars that Poleys from previous years had set up as odes to their experiences working at Pole. But most were small and high and impossible to get into.
Sampson’s light drew closer and she picked up the pace, almost running down the seemingly endless white tunnel, until the darkness ahead revealed three passages. Shit, which way? Which way?
Right.
Another crossroads. She went right again. Not thinking. Not waiting to consider. Not slowing to listen, just running, slipping over the ice, catching herself on the frozen walls.
Calm down. Breathe.
Wait, there! A shadow to the left.
Suddenly, everything got brighter, which meant Sampson’s light was closer. Too close. How? How were his steps so measured and still so fast?
She pushed herself. Her breaths came out in audible puffs, as if this fear were too strong to stay inside her. It had to be out in the open, vocalized, real. Never mind that he’d hear her if she couldn’t find a way to shut up andhide.
She turned another corner. Another hall. Darker. No way to tell how deep it was, but the steps behind her seemed to fade. Maybe she’d lost him.
With no choice now, she threw her hands out in front of her and sprinted, the sound of her feet on the ice like a dog chomping on bones.
She connected with something, hard, and almost went down, only managing to grab on at the last minute. A horizontal pillar or a pipe. A pipe. Okay. The piping that brought something to the living quarters… Heating? Hot water?
Who cares?
She put a hand on it and used it as a guide.
And then, headfirst, she crashed into a wall. Dead end.
Literally.
