“Yep. Everyone wants a piece of these guys.” Still, he didn’t move.
Just leave, dammit.“You waiting for me to bid you Godspeed, or something?”
“Godspeed?” Sampson raised his brows and finally pulled his foot from the door. It was all Clive could do not to slam it in his face. Christ, Sampson could barely speak English.
“You know. Like, farewell?” He scarcely kept his eyes from rolling. “For your journey across the ice to do God’s work?” All of this was said tongue in cheek, obviously, but Sampson didn’t get it. Everything to him was straightforward. First degree.
“That what this is?” Sampson smiled, his teeth big and bright and especially carnivorous in his now-gaunt face. “Seems more like the devil’s.”
Chapter 41
Day 15—137 Miles to Volkov Station—16 Days of Food Remaining
It was so quiet on the ice, so bright and still, that Coop heard it immediately—the far-off drone of engines.
Within seconds, it grew louder, and when he turned to look at Angel, he could tell that she’d heard it, too.
Her stance was straight, tall, excited. Safety. Civilization. He could read her mind. The phone call worked! Eric got through to Volkov. This was over.Finally.He could understand that relief, especially given the way she’d limped all morning. Clearly, walking in those snowshoes had been harder on her body than skiing.
Which would make running all the more difficult if these didn’t turn out to be allies.
He scanned all three hundred sixty degrees of horizon. Avoiding an enormous crevasse field, along with sastrugi, some as tall and impossible to navigate as ocean waves, had put them slightly off course, which wasn’t a bad thing, given how little he trusted whoever approached.
So, was this help on the way?
Or the opposite?
Louder. Chainsaws busting through a quiet forest, bees swarming, coming together to play an off-key chord.
Something sliced through it. Disquiet, fear, an odd, otherworldly awareness. He couldn’t say what exactly, but suddenly, he was sure—more certain than he’d ever been—that this was not a friendly approach.
Several machines—snowmobiles, he’d guess—coming from the direction of Volkov. It could mean that Eric had gotten his message and had somehow made this happen. But even with his brother’s connections, this was awfully quick.
Everything happened fast, after that, as his old instincts kicked in.
A quick scan of the horizon showed nothing to hide behind, nothing to put between them and whatever weapons those assholes were packing.
The closer the engines got, the stronger the certainty that this was very, very bad.
He slowed his breathing and took another look, a full three sixty, more deliberate this time. Nothing but the Great Wall of Sastrugi that they’d just avoided. They’d have to drag the sled over there and hope for a place to hide on the other side. If they could make it to the forest of frozen wavelike structures, they’d have a chance of going undetected. Slim, but a chance.
“Run!” he bellowed, making sure Angel was with him before he took off with the sled behind him, pushing his body harder than he ever had, stretching his lungs to their maximum capacity. Even that didn’t feel like enough as the droning grew more strident, angrier.
Definitely more than one engine. Snowmobiles, gunning toward them.
He dared a look back, and Angel was right there with him, struggling in those snowshoes, limping but pushing herself as hard as he was. Thank God.
Only a few yards to go. Yoked like a strongman in one of those truck pulls, he forged his way up, up the steep, short slope, to the top, then… His breath left him in a whoosh as he took in the sheer drop on the other side. With adrenaline-enhanced muscles, he grabbed the sled and threw it over, then turned just in time to see one of Angel’s unwieldy snowshoes catch on the uneven ice, forcing her leg out at an unnatural angle.
* * *
I’m fine,Angel chanted in her head.I’ll be fine.
The first step on her bum knee told her otherwise, sending her halfway to the ground with a lung-purgingoofbefore she planted the ski pole and pushed herself to standing.
I’m fine. I’ll be fine.
In front of her, the ice formed a wide, shallow hill that she’d have to climb in order to get to the other side. Nothing to it. Just an anthill, really.
