“Do you?”
“It’s coming, the Bible says so,” he said, and placed his copy on the table; “But not today.”
“Right. I forgot. So if you don’t believe it, why did you come?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe – I’ve seen the projections – but I suppose I just wanted some time to see things myself.”
Luis snorted, and pushed his plate away. “Well, all you get up here is time. Time and space.”
“You make it sound lonely.”
“All of us are alone. All of the time.”
“You know,” Andrew said, laying his hand on the book, “You aren’t alone now.”
Luis shook his head. “Open your eyes and look around. God is dead. Don’t be a chump.”
“I used to feel the same, but just because Science doesn’t believe in Faith doesn’t mean Faith doesn’t believe in Science. God is there for you if you’ll listen.”
“Why don’t you listen,” Luis said, then stopped himself. He stood. “Suddenly I feel a bit crowded up here by all your saints. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”
“Just because you don’t feel His love, doesn’t mean you’ve been abandoned . . .” Andrew said, but it was too late. Luis had gone.
Andrew lay in bed and read his Bible. He scoured every page -ran his fingers along the text, feeling the grooves of the printed letters. He read until his eyes itched and the words began to swirl in strange patterns, then he stood and pushed the bed until it was out of the sunlight. If he were lucky, he would manage to sleep through the night.
Andrew sat up, wakened by a sound that nearly stopped his heart. His ears still rang, and he looked around the room but saw nothing wrong. Luis lay unmoving, dead to the world, and the smell of liquor and cigarettes hovered in the air. Nothing moved.
Then, the air was disturbed by a low creak. It grew with each passing second and filled his head. He covered his ears, but it was useless; the sound broke through. It became louder, then louder, and just when Andrew feared his skull would burst, there was a crack as if the world had split open, and Andrew leapt from his bed, terrified, and fell to his knees. He prayed for the noise to end.
The air fell quiet, and though he waited, the sound did not return; yet when Andrew got back into bed, he could not sleep. Across from him, above the motionless Luis, rays of light slipped through the covered window.
The next morning Luis laughed while rubbing the sleep from his bloodshot eyes.
“I saw the show last night. You city people are all the same – can’t take the isolation.”
Andrew made an effort to smile, and touched the book in his pocket. “What was that?”
“The ice. It cracks like that all the time. Usually, though, it’s not that loud unless you’re closer to the water.”
When they met with Akiak at the snowmobiles, he was bundled up against a cold that surprised even Luis. Andrew could still hear the ice cracking, though the fresh snow seemed to dampen the noise of the changing landscape.
Akiak was unnerved by the sound, and he jumped at each crack, disquieting Andrew. The wind had gone for the moment, yet it seemed colder somehow. Andrew wrapped his scarf higher on his face as Akiak started the snowmobile’s engine. When they took off, the small rectangle of the Bible pushed into Andrew’s ribs.
The new snow lay over everything and instantly obliterated any landmark Andrew might recognize. Within minutes he was lost in the Arctic tundra.
On the edge of the giant crater, the snowmobiles came to a stop and Andrew hastily dismounted. He stumbled as he did so, and the Bible slipped out of his pocket and disappeared beneath the surface of the snow. Andrew reached into the collapsing hole until his arm sank to his shoulder, but he felt nothing. He thrashed his hand in panic, while Luis and Akiak stood idle. It wasn’t until Andrew’s fingers grazed a solid corner that he relaxed, and he pulled out the snow-covered book as he stood.
“Is it okay?” Luis asked, his eyebrow cocked in amusement.
“I think so,” Andrew said as he inspected the book. Snow had slipped into the binding beneath the faux leather covers, and he brushed off as much as he could.
“If not, there might be a hotel ahead where you can grab another.” Luis laughed and started walking again, while Andrew carefully unzipped his coat and placed the book inside. He shivered as the cold of the wet volume pressed up against his chest. It took a few minutes for the book to warm, and even then he could feel the dampness seep into his clothes.
The snow was deepest at the crater’s bottom; Andrew sank to mid-thigh, and his progress slowed. Luis and Akiak moved more easily, though they too were panting.
Andrew continued to hear the muffled creaking, and saw more fissures in the ground. The snow was deep, but not deep enough to fill them, only to better hide them. More than once, he found himself a step away from falling inside one. Though the cracks were not large enough to consume him, they were wider than any he had seen the day before, and he worried that he might be pulled beneath the snow before anyone noticed that he was gone.
Ahead, Luis had stopped. He was panting and staring at Okralruserk when Andrew reached him.
“I feel drawn to this place,” Luis said, almost to himself. Akiak grunted. It did not sound like a word, but it caught Luis’ attention. He was himself again. He removed the pack of cigarettes from his front pocket and lit one. “There it is,” he said, and started walking.
The rocks looked bigger than Andrew had remembered, taller, even with the extra foot of snow on the ground, but he couldn’t be sure. Okralruserk was still a few hundred yards away, with only a background of white for reference.
They finally reached the circle of rocks, and Luis stopped again. “What is it?” Andrew asked.
“Look,” Luis said. “Don’t you see?”
But Andrew couldn’t see anything. Okralruserk looked just as they had left it the day before. Luis pointed.
“Why aren’t they covered in snow?”
He was right. The snow that had caused them so much trouble had not touched the tall dark rocks. Luis walked around the stones and inspected them. “They don’t have ice on them,” he said. “They’re completely dry.”
“The darker the surface, the more light it absorbs,” Andrew said as he checked the readings on the instruments. “This constant sunlight, even half-light – maybe it’s warmed the rocks enough that the snow and ice have simply melted away.”
Luis made a strange noise, then removed his glove and laid his bare hand on the stone. “This one’s cold.”
“Well, the electric thermometers haven’t recorded anything significant. Wait—” Andrew said, and bent closer to the plastic box he had previously installed. It was crushed; the sensors inside had been rendered useless, and it was the same for the boxes at the other stones. “My equipment’s been damaged. I can’t accurately determine if there were changes to temperature delta.”
Luis continued to touch the five rocks, looking unsuccessfully for one that might still be warm. He ran his fingers over them, along the swirling grooves, and suddenly he stopped and looked closer.
“Hey, these are symbols, like something’s written in the stone.”
“What?” Andrew put the broken equipment down and went over.
Akiak stood rubbing his hands together at the edge of Okralruserk, keeping as far away as he could from the rocks. Luis beckoned him closer, but the older Inuk would not come.
Andrew inspected the writing. “Do you recognize it? It looks old.”
“It’s not Inuit. We didn’t have a written language until around the twenties, and this looks . . . older.”
Luis bent on his knee and inspected the foot of one of the stones. “These grooves go all the way down, under the snow and ice.”
“I wonder how big these rocks are.”
“Let’s find out.” From one of the equipment cases, Luis removed a large hammer with a thin, sharp head. “Let’s see if we can dig far enough to get below the writing.”
Luis swung the pick down with all his strength, aiming at the ground from where the monument emerged, but the thick ice proved stronger than he’d expected, and the hammer kicked up in his hand, then smashed into the stone. A large chunk of black rock broke free and hit Luis square in the temple. Unconscious, he crumpled to the frozen ground and twitched as blood coursed from his head.
Akiak was at Luis’ side a moment later. He pulled a rag from his pocket and held it to the wound, then pointed urgently at the scientist’s waist.
“My belt?” Andrew said, his head swimming in mounting panic. Akiak pointed again and nodded.
Andrew had to remove his gloves first, and his fingers quickly became numb in the chill. He fumbled the buckle open as quickly as he could and handed the belt over.
Akiak wrapped the belt around the unconscious man’s head and pulled it tight to keep the makeshift bandage in place.
The two men carried Luis across the deep snow, narrowly avoiding the fissures that multiplied with every creaking sound, back to the crater’s edge. They pulled Luis up and over the ridge, then strapped him to the sled and covered him with a blanket. Andrew prayed aloud as he climbed on the back of the vehicle behind Akiak. They drove faster than Andrew thought possible, and he pressed his head against the driver’s back to avoid the stinging snow.
Luis moaned as the two men carried him inside the cabin and placed him on his bed. Blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage, and Akiak loosened the belt to check the wound. He turned and grabbed Andrew by the wrist, then pulled him closer and pressed his hand to Luis’ wound. Akiak stood and said something else then ran out the door. Andrew remained, quiet and unmoving, and prayed that God might help the unconscious Luis.
The heat of the cabin did not warm him.
After twenty minutes, Akiak returned with another Inuit behind him. This second man pushed Andrew aside and started checking Luis, then opened the small bag he was carrying and removed a stethoscope. Andrew stood, then he ran to the washroom and vomited in the sink. He wiped his mouth, but stayed in the small room for a few moments and tried to steady his breathing. In the other room, there was very little talking. Then, he heard the loud rap of something heavy being dropped, and no further sound followed. When Andrew emerged, though, both the doctor and Akiak were still there.
Andrew paced the room for a few minutes, then stopped at the window and ran his fingers through his thin hair. Outside, clouds had managed to dampen the setting sun.
Akiak spoke and Andrew shook his head. “What? I don’t understand.”
The Inuk looked at him a moment, then put his wool hat on and walked out.
On the table beside Luis’ head sat a chunk of dark rock, about the size of a fist. Even from that distance, Andrew could see swirls of writing upon it.
He checked his watch. It had been hours since the doctor left, yet Akiak had still not returned. Luis slid in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently. Half his words were not words, instead just noises pretending to be words. Andrew had no idea how long he might be incapacitated, or what kind of care to provide. There seemed to be no one nearby other than Luis who spoke English. The doctor had tried to communicate with him before leaving, eventually settling in frustration on a pantomime of sleep, though Andrew was unsure to which of the three it referred. He wasn’t sure if the doctor planned on returning.
Andrew knelt beside the bed, Bible in hand, to pray for Luis. The book had still not dried, had become warped by the moisture of the snow, and as he opened it to find the verse he wanted pages began to fall out. The entire book then crumbled in his hands, and he struggled unsuccessfully to keep the leaves in order as they spilled onto the ground.
He scooped up the pages and carried them to his bed. He felt uneasy at the sight of Luis, as though the air were being sucked from his lungs. He faced away from the window, closed his eyes and breathed deeply, in and out, willing himself to relax.
He no longer felt safe. He felt trapped.
Andrew checked his watch and wondered what was keeping Akiak. At the door, he looked out and saw everything bathed in late afternoon sunlight, but Andrew knew that it was far later. He felt out of sync with the world and was unsure what to do.
On the table beside Luis, the stone fragment from Okralruserk watched over him. Andrew remembered it being larger, and picked it up to feel its weight.
And almost dropped it.
The rock was covered in something dark and wet and sticky, and it had turned Andrew’s hand almost black in the shaded cabin. There was blood everywhere, more than Andrew imagined there should be, and it filled the symbols carved into the rock’s surface.
Andrew felt sick and quickly went to wash his hands. The porcelain of the small basin turned red as he rinsed the blood from between his fingers, and he stared, lost in worry, as the tainted water circled the drain.
He dried his hands and sat down on his bed again. Across from him, Luis lay with half his head swathed in white gauze. He had not stopped muttering anxiously, though about what Andrew couldn’t understand.
The day had been a long one, and Andrew was starting to feel its effects. He yawned, then laid his head down only a moment to still his troubled mind. He closed his eyes, and was awoken hours later by the sound of a deafening crack. Across from him, Luis’ bed was empty.
The door stood wide open and Luis’ coat and boots were gone. Cold filled the room, a dull light fell upon the unoccupied bed. Andrew ran to the door, but the sudden white was too much for his eyes. When they adjusted, he saw a set of tracks across the snowy tundra, and a small dark spot disappearing into nothingness.
Andrew stood in the doorway feeling utterly alone.
He had no idea where Akiak had gone, no idea where he might find help. Behind the cabin sat Luis’ snowmobile, but even if Andrew could drive it he didn’t have the key. The tiny figure grew smaller by the second, and he feared at any moment it would be gone forever. His heart beat faster in his ears, and he tried to control the breath that moved too quickly through him. The ends of his fingers tingled in the cold, and he clutched them together and prayed for direction. He closed his eyelids tight until he saw stars, and then opened them slowly. All breath left his body for a moment.
Then, he put on his own gear and went after Luis.
He hoped he might catch up quickly, but the depth of snow fought against him, and he had no choice but to follow at a slower pace.
Periodically, the dark figure would stop, wait for Andrew to gain ground, and then start moving again. It did this for the better part of an hour, each time leaving Andrew further behind.
Then, without warning, Andrew was following only footprints.
The air howled with cold wind and shifting ice. It had become deafening, and Andrew held his gloved hands against the hood of his parka to stamp it out.
He was exhausted, and felt more uneasy the further he travelled from the cabin. If Luis didn’t tire soon, Andrew would never catch him.
The trail brought Andrew to the edge of the crater. He stopped and called out as loudly as he could, but the wind and cracking ice swallowed the sound. He strained his eyes, looking for movement in the white, but there was nothing between him and the silhouette of Okralruserk at the depression’s dark centre.
Andrew prepared to descend the crater’s edge when he looked down and felt a chill run through him. The snowmobile Akiak had been driving was at the bottom of the sharp decline, about twenty feet away and wedged into the ground. A giant fissure stretched from it; the entire floor of the crater was full of them, long gaping cracks that had churned up large slabs of ice. He tried to get to the snowmobile and see if Akiak lay there wounded, but the upheaval prevented his approach. He reached instinctively to touch the Bible in his coat, and felt nothing in its place. Andrew’s heart started racing, yet he was powerless to slow it. He tried to calm down, but the blood moved faster and faster until his head began to throb. Sparks of light filled his eyes, and he closed them, terrified he would faint. He c
rouched and held his breath. After a moment he forced it, as slowly as he could, through his pursed lips, and told himself over and over that things were okay, that God was with him, that nothing would go wrong. When he finally believed it, he opened his eyes.
And saw that it was snowing. Large flakes filled the air, and where they landed they erased the footprints and landmarks that were Andrew’s last tether to the world behind him.
If not for Okralruserk’s dark blemish, visible through the swirling white, Andrew would have dropped to his knees and abandoned himself to the cold. Even so, the image only flickered in the brewing storm, as though it was insubstantial. The monument beckoned him, and Andrew had no choice but to go forward, tripping over the upturned ice, before Okralruserk vanished completely into the blinding snow.
The wind howled as it cut through his thick clothes, but he kept moving straight towards the darkness. He had to find Luis before it was too late, or else neither of them might survive what was coming.
The weight of snow against Andrew took its toll, and he almost collapsed when he reached Okralruserk. He needed a moment to catch his breath, and when he looked up he was astounded. The giant black rocks were completely untouched by the storm, though the ground beneath them was a maze of extensive fissures that radiated from the foot of each stone like ripples in the ice.
The remains of his thermal equipment were scattered around the site, some half-buried in the snow within the circle, others blown into the periphery. Andrew picked up a piece, unsure of what it once had been, then dropped it to the ground. Everything he had was destroyed.
The wind pushed hard against him, and it threw the snow up into eddies around Okralruserk. He twisted his body to escape the brunt of it and caught from the corner of his eye a shadow move behind one of the five monoliths.
The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror Page 23