He lowered his scope to see Rico walking to his left. The frosted pink tips of her hair protruded from her stocking cap and helmet. Her dimples widened as she chewed on a stick of bubble gum.
“Juvenile corpse…” He didn’t want to spook her, but she had a right to know. “Flung up on display like a macabre shrine.”
Rico stopped dead in her tracks. “What… What do you mean?”
“Some sort of science experiment. Hell if I know. I don’t know what it means, or who did it.”
Rico gave him a meaningful look before she shouldered her rifle. “I don’t like this, Fitzie. I don’t like this one damn bit.”
The howling wind seemed to answer her.
Fitz pushed on, his blades crushing the compact powder into the gravel. The cold was slowly working into his layers and his fingers were icing inside of his gloves. He moved them to keep the blood flowing. They had hiked for ten minutes, and he was already cold.
A sensation of being watched stopped him mid-stride.
“What is it?” Rico asked, slowly turning with her rifle.
“Something’s out there… watching us from afar. Studying… scrutinizing us.”
“You’re freaking me out.”
“Sorry. Just keep your eyes peeled.” He slowly scanned the terrain and the sky. The creatures had evolved to see in the dark, but could they see through the dense sheets of snow?
Fitz continued toward the hilltop. According to the map, the village was on the other side. Dohi stopped near the top, crouched, and balled his hand into a fist. Then he got onto his stomach and scoped the village below. A wave of snow glided over his body as he lay there, still like a fox waiting out prey.
Fitz hung back with Rico and the others. He pulled his bandana down and wiped his fogged snow goggles while they waited. Dohi had the best eyes, ears, and nose in the team. He was a full-blooded Navajo tracker, and Fitz was glad to have him. If anyone could sense the monsters coming, it was Dohi and Apollo.
A flash of motion came from the hill as the drifting snow cleared. Dohi stood and gave the all clear to advance. He continued over the other side with Tanaka running to catch up. Blasts of wind tore into Fitz as he followed. He pulled his bandana back up, tucked his helmet down, and fought the current of air.
Better get used to Command sending Team Ghost into a shit storm. Just like in France, Ghost was getting the hard assignments — the missions no one else could complete. Fitz was starting to wonder if he was ever going to make it back to Plum Island to see his friends. As soon as this mission was over he was going to figure out exactly what the hell was going on back in the States. Someone had to know…
When he reached the crest of the hill he stopped to get his bearings. Apollo was just ahead, and Rico was still by his side. He used a sleeve to brush away the ice clinging to his eyebrows.
The road dipped into a valley protected from the wind. White rooftops dotted the landscape. He counted thirteen structures, all of them spread out along three main streets. Several vehicles caked in snow sat idly on the road. Dohi and Tanaka were already making their way toward a truck.
Fitz stood there for another second, staring at the snowy structures of a village that seemed frozen in time. From his vantage, it looked like the inside of a snow globe.
“You coming?” Rico asked.
Fitz nodded and ran down the slope toward the vehicles. By the time they caught up with Dohi and Tanaka they had already cleared the truck. Like the church, it was empty. He was starting to get the feeling they weren’t going to find anyone alive here.
Stevenson pulled his skull bandana down and spat in the snow.
“Where the fuck are all the bodies?” he asked. “Even the Variants leave behind skeletons.”
Apollo’s tail was still up, which was the only good sign Fitz had seen yet. The dog didn’t sense any monsters in the vicinity.
“Come on, we need to keep moving,” Fitz said.
Team Ghost continued down the road that led to the central part of the village. The first block was comprised of businesses — a hardware shop, café, and a police station. The other signs were too covered in snow to make out. More houses lined the second and third blocks. Abandoned cars sat in the streets, doors frozen shut.
Fitz motioned for the team to spread out down the first block. There was no way they were going to clear each structure, but they had to figure out what the hell happened to these people. It might be the only way to understand what had happened inside the lab.
Fitz flashed signals, splitting the team up. Dohi and Tanaka took off across the street to clear the hardware store. He directed Stevenson to hold security in the street while Rico and Apollo followed Fitz toward a café.
He raised his silenced M4 toward a shattered front door. Shards of glass framed the wood, but a mound of snow had formed on the other side. He reached for the handle to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge.
Rico was already looking for an alternate route in. She walked along a still-intact rectangular window. Drawings of steaming coffee mugs and plates of fish marked the icy glass.
Fitz and Apollo followed her to the corner to a small alley that separated the building from the adjacent structure. Snow swirled into the narrow passage, masking his view momentarily. When it cleared he saw a back door to the café. From the sidewalk, he checked the rest of his team before entering.
Stevenson crouched on the sidewalk and nodded to Fitz.
Across the street, Dohi and Tanaka had already entered the hardware store.
With a breath, Fitz followed Rico into the alley. She stopped at the door, grabbed the handle, and put her shoulder into it after Fitz gave her the okay. Ice fell away from the frame and it creaked open.
Rico stepped back and shouldered her rifle.
Apollo stood next to Fitz, waiting for orders.
“Execute,” Fitz said.
Rico kicked the door, and Fitz strode inside, sweeping his rifle back and forth over an empty kitchen.
Pots, pans, and glasses littered the floor.
Apollo sniffed the ground, wagged his tail, and sat on his haunches.
“Clear,” Fitz said. He exchanged a glance with Rico. Side by side, they pointed their muzzles toward an open door that led to the main dining area. They slowly walked into the room furnished with booths and tables, clearing opposite sides.
Fitz lowered his rifle and let out an icy plume of breath that quickly faded away. The surface of every table and chair was covered in a layer of snow.
“Not even a single body,” Rico said.
She stepped over to a booth and wiped off the snow with her glove, revealing dinner plates and mugs. A bowl of frozen soup sat in the center of the table.
“It’s like they got up and left in the middle of dinner,” Fitz whispered. He scanned the room, then jerked his chin toward the exit.
They returned to the sidewalk just as Dohi and Tanaka exited the building across the street.
Both men shook their head.
Fitz mimicked their action and turned to wave Stevenson over, but the big man was gone.
Fitz whirled to his left, then his right.
“Stevenson?” Fitz said. “Yo, Stevenson.” He kept his voice low, trying not to draw attention, but the only answer was the whistling wind.
Dohi and Tanaka crossed the street, battling gusts of snow and grit.
“Where the fuck did Stevenson go?” Rico asked.
Fitz ran to the position he had last seen the man. He slowed as he spotted a wad of black material resting in the fresh powder. Stevenson’s crumpled skull mask bandana.
-3-
Sergeant Mapes couldn’t believe his luck. Just when things were rolling forward with Operation Reach in Europe, he was sent to Greenland. Fucking Greenland. What the hell did the United States care about Greenland? He shook his head and continued the march through the western edge of a fishing village with a name he couldn’t even pronounce.