A heavy shower of rain began, which in no time soaked them all and dampened their spirits. It also turned the path into a treacherous mud slide. Only Jak and Ryan avoided falling in the greasy furrows, picking their way through virtual darkness. The moon had waned, disappearing eventually behind swooping banks of thick chem clouds that had ridden in from the north.
Another problem that slowed their progress was fog. It lay like a wide ribbon of silver-gray velvet across the expanse of the great lake, below them. But it was also gathering itself above them, near the ridge. It seeped over from the wide valley on the farther side, spilling silently between the trees, softening the stark silhouettes and dropping visibility to close to zero.
Though Jak's eyesight wasn't that great in the brightness of day, he saw better at night than any of them, even better than Krysty with her mutie-enhanced vision. Now he took the lead, making his way cautiously up the slippery track, followed by the rest, who were guided by the beacon of his white mane of hair. But it was painfully slow progress.
After Doc had fallen heavily, nearly spraining his ankle, Ryan called a halt.
"Double-stupe to go on," he said. "Rain's starting again. Can't see properly. Trail's dangerous. Best wait up for first light."
"What about the locals?" J.B. reminded, leaning against a tree and trying to wipe clotted mud off his boots.
Ryan brushed rain from his forehead. "Yeah. Worries me, too. They'll know this place a lot better'n us. They'll know we're making for the top of the hill. Follow our marks easy in this mud."
"Wait ambush fuckers," was Jak's suggestion.
"No. If we were sure — real sure — they were coming this way, we could do that. Chop them down from cover. But we don't. Likely there's plenty of hunting trails up and over the top of the mountain. Who knows which one?"
"Only the Shadow knows," Mildred said in a sepulchral tone.
The combination of rain, driven from over the water on the teeth of a rising wind, and drifting slabs of bitter fog, made it a thoroughly miserable night for all of them. The temperature fell sharply after midnight, and Ryan insisted that they huddle together for warmth and protection.
"If those mad Vikings want to come up in this weather and try and take me," Mildred said through chattering teeth, "then they're goddamned welcome to me."
The dawn's early light brought virtually no improvement to conditions. The wind was close to gale force and carried the stinging bite of acid rain. Not the most acidic Ryan had ever experienced, but bad enough to irritate the eyes and taste sour on the skin. The fog had cleared, but the sun wasn't able to cut through the swaths of dark cloud.
Parts of the path were sheeted in orange mud, and it took the companions another three hours to get close to the top of the hill.
The tight mass of conifers had gradually thinned, and mud was replaced by loose stones. Out on the exposed flank of the mountain, the wind had risen to a ferocious howling that plucked at the clothes and made breathing difficult.
"Once we get over the ridge," Ryan said, "it should ease a whole lot."
Doc was doubled over, hands on knees, hawking up strings of pale spittle. He coughed, rackingly, his shoulders shaking. "I confess that I did not care overmuch for that fetid heat we encountered when we first came to Minnesota. Yet it would be thrice welcome after this damnable piercing wind." He turned to squint up the path. "How much farther, Ryan?"
"Not far, Doc. Mebbe another quarter hour, and then it'll all be downhill."
He was a touch optimistic. The last hundred yards had to be covered on hands and knees, the gale tearing at them, driving them toward the spine of the hill.
One by one they crawled over the top, grateful to see the lush jungle ahead. Ryan was last over, gasping for breath. Even twenty feet down the other side, the lee of the slope protected them and life was hugely easier. "Yeah," Ryan said. "All downhill now."
Chapter Thirty-Six
"This climate's like being in a Holiday Inn sauna," Mildred said. "But in a Holiday Inn it's a lot of fun."
"I've stayed places like that," Doc told her, wiping sweat from his forehead with his swallow's-eye kerchief. "I recall that the best surprise was no surprise. Was that not their slogan? Or was it that they tried harder? I fear that all of this excitement has somewhat addled my brain."
Ryan held up his hand to call a halt to the group. "Not far from the real serious jungle. This scrub's okay for safety. No chance of an ambush here. Coupla hundred feet lower down the path, things could get nasty."
"And there's all kinds of wildlife in the forest down there," Krysty added. "Not home and safe yet. Double-care."
"Make it triple," J.B. said.
After the chill air near the lake and the banks of icy fog, the tropical heat farther down the trail was overwhelming. The sickly scent of exotic flowers swamped everyone's breathing, and the sweltering humidity reduced the friends to sweating misery.
As soon as they reached the point where the path grew less steep and the lush foliage met in a dark green ceiling, it became an effort to continue walking. The butterflies were everywhere. Turquoise and gold. Maroon and dazzling green. Some of them as large as dinner plates, fluttering between the flowering shrubs that covered so much of the ground in the clearings.
"No sign of the Vikings," Krysty said to Ryan.
"If they came over the top on a different path, they'll likely not come at us until we reach that river near the freezie center."
"Can we try and find a sidetrack?"
"Yeah, but I guess we could be lost within fifty strides, jungle like this seems to grow while you watch it."
Mildred called out to Ryan. "Can we take a break? Doc's kind of frayed around the edges."
"If you want a rest, madam, then I suggest you ask for one for yourself. I can keep going as long as you can."
Ryan grinned at Doc. "So you don't mind if we don't take a halt?"
The old man shrugged his shoulders with a studied casualness. "A matter of scant concern to me, my dear fellow. But if the good lady here is feeling a touch frail..."
Mildred flopped to the ground and lay on her back, staring up at the sky through the thick green leaves.
"All right, Doc. I'm bushed. At least I'm man enough to admit it."
Doc folded himself beside her, knees cracking like small-caliber pistol shots. "I would confess that the heat is somewhat oppressive. How long before we reach the water, Ryan?"
"It's late morning. I recall the river's not that far from here. But we have to be real careful."
"Killer fishes?" Jak asked, tugging at the strands of hair that had become pasted across his face with perspiration.
"Place like this could have fish, insects, animals, birds, snakes..." Ryan started to run out of breath. "You get the idea, folks. Just be careful about everything!"
"Listen!"
"What?"
"Thought I... Quiet, everyone!" Krysty held up her hand, her head on one side.
"Behind us?" Ryan asked.
"No."
"Ahead? Side?"
She shook her head in irritation. "Can't tell. I can hear the river, close now. But I heard something else."
Ryan pressed her. "But it wasn't behind us? You're sure on that?"
"Think so, lover. But I can't swear to it. Guess it might have been a deer or something, moving through the brush."
"Patrol red," Ryan said, glancing at Mildred. "That means we..."