"Shut up," I said. "Both of you."
They turned to look at me. I saw surprise etched across their faces.
"You can argue later," I said tightly. "Right now, Beverly should be the only thing on your minds."
Their eyes turned apologetic and they shot me quick nods. Then they turned their gazes to the tundra.
The snow fell faster. I shot a quick glance in the general direction of the Mühlig-Hofmann Mountains. I still couldn't see them amidst the white flurries.
For the last few weeks, I'd imagined what it would be like to see Beverly again, to stare at her face, to get lost in her eyes. I'd pictured the moment a thousand times in my head. I still didn't know if I would yell at her or kiss her. She was that frustrating, that intoxicating.
I slowly inhaled as a heavy drift came into view. Then I exhaled. The drift was small, too small to hide a Sno-Cat.
My heart thumped against my chest. From the moment I'd set foot on Antarctica's ice, I'd sensed her presence. I hadn't always recognized it. But it had always been there, filling me with energy and strength. She meant a lot to me. I didn't know what that meant, but hell, it had to mean something.
The powerful winds picked up speed. White powder blew into the air. It became difficult to distinguish the falling snow from the ground.
We drove further. A silhouette came into view. I could just make it out through the blowing snow. It was small and boxy.
Baxter steered the vehicle over a hump. A moment later, we banged softly onto a lower plain. The landscape rose up to meet the sky, forming a bare and bleak picture of white nothingness. Beside the object, I could see nothing else. Hell, even the object itself was barely visible.
We crossed more ice. The object grew larger. The edges materialized and it took the shape of an ice-covered rock.
A gust of wind blew snow out of my field of vision. I blinked and leaned closer to the windshield.
That's no rock.
Baxter's jaw tightened. We pulled to a stop.
I stared at the Sno-Cat. It was partially buried under a thick layer of powder and ice. I shifted my gaze to the surrounding area. I noticed a single lump, covered in snow. It was a few feet south of the vehicle.
My breath caught in my throat.
No. Please God, no.
Chapter 55
Gloomy silence hung over the cab. I followed Graham out the door and hiked over the ice. I stopped by the Beverly-sized lump. I didn't want to look at it. But I didn't have much of a choice.
I knelt down and brushed snow away from the lump. My heart beat a little faster.
I shoved my arms into the pile and felt around.
Just snow.
A tiny bit of hope sprouted up inside me. I stood up and walked to the snow-covered vehicle. I swept my arm across the bottom part of it. Powder blew into my face. Triangle-shaped treads materialized.
My arms worked fast, sweeping away large amounts of powder. Gradually, the rest of the Sno-Cat materialized. Long scratches ran the length of its chassis. One of its treads was crushed and had been ripped away from the vehicle. The driver's side door was heavily dented. The windshield was shattered.
I wrenched open the door. Large piles of snow greeted me. They nearly filled the cab.
I smelled blood in the air. Holding my breath, I scooped some powder out of the cab. I saw the seats. Claw marks covered them. Blood was splattered across the fabric.
"Fenrir?" Graham asked.
"Yes," Baxter replied.
"That's great. So, we're stuck between a monster out here and a murderer back at Kirby." Graham rubbed his forehead. "Has Fenrir ever killed anyone before?"
"Once," he said after a few seconds.
"Recently?"
"Decades ago."
"Are you serious?"
Baxter nodded.
"Decades, huh?" Graham looked thoughtful. "So, why is it attacking people now?"
"Maybe it's been in hibernation. When the Desolation exploded, it could've woken up again."
I ignored their conversation. Instead, I shut the door and walked around the Sno-Cat, looking for signs of Beverly. I saw plenty of blood splattered on the vehicle. But I saw no sign of her body.
I took a step backward. The Sno-Cat looked still, lonely, dead. I felt a touch of sadness as I stared at it. But mostly, I felt numb, inside and out.
"Fenrir is deadly," Graham said. "We need hunters out here as soon as possible."
"The last thing I need is a bunch of reckless jerks going on a polar safari," Baxter retorted. "Anyway I told you it's my responsibility."
"Why is it such a big deal to you?"
"Because it killed some friends of mine." Baxter clenched his fists. "I don't expect you to understand. But I've spent the last thirty years looking for it. I turned down jobs. I stayed on this godforsaken wasteland. I even moved to Fitzgerald to be closer to it."
"You wanted revenge."
"Damn straight."
"That's why you pretended it didn't exist." Graham shook his head. "Jeff had a right to know. You should've told him. Maybe he'd still be alive."
"It's not my fault. How was I supposed to know Fenrir would suddenly reappear?" Baxter pursed his lips. "Once I realized what was going on, I put the travel ban in place."
"Shut the hell up," I said. "Both of you. I'm sick of your goddamn accusations and excuses. Beverly's still alive. She's got to be. So, I don't want to hear another word until we've found her."
They glared at each other for another few seconds. Then they separated and began to search the area.
An idea occurred to me. I strode back to the vehicle. I opened the door and climbed into the cab. I leaned over the seat. A thick layer of snow — at least two feet deep — covered the cargo area. I rooted around it. My hand struck something hard yet soft.
I pushed away the snow. A space blanket lay underneath it. It appeared to be covering something.
Holding my breath, I removed the blanket. Another blanket lay directly underneath it. It was wrapped tightly around a body. I pulled it down. A face appeared.
Beverly's face.
Air exited my lungs. Carefully, I pulled off my gloves. My hand touched her blue cheek. Her skin felt icy. Tiny specks of blood covered her face.
Her parka was intact. So were her clothes. But I saw plenty of claw marks and the snow around her was drenched with blood.
I reached into her hood, felt her pulse. My heart thumped rapidly. A barrage of emotions struck me as I gathered her into my arms.
Hang in there, Beverly. Please. Just hang in there.
PART IV
The Amber Room
Chapter 56
"Her pulse is getting weaker." I hoisted Beverly's blanket-covered body into the air. "We've got to hurry."
Baxter hopped out of the Sno-Cat and raced toward Kirby. Graham, hobbling on his artificial leg, was close behind him. Together, they propped open the doors. I sprinted through them and entered the common room. Candles provided dim light to the large space.
"Where to?" I shouted.
Baxter ran into the Work hallway. "Follow me."
I glanced at Beverly's blood-splattered face. Her eyes were closed. Her lips were chapped. Her cheeks looked pale and sunken.
Gritting my teeth, I followed Baxter into the corridor. I could feel Beverly's chest rising and falling, rising and falling. Every breath she took seemed shallower than the last one.
He slid to a stop in front of some thick metal doors. He grabbed a knob and tried to twist it. It didn't move. Swearing under his breath, he made a fist and pounded on the metal. "Open up, damn it. We need your help."