by Bryan Dunn
* * * *
The Black Hawk helicopter screamed above the ocean surface at just over one hundred and sixty miles an hour – and suddenly entered a field of icebergs.
Nowhere Man banked the chopper, sending them hurtling toward a massive block of ice that raked the horizon like an ancient clipper ship running before the wind.
“I think I found your ice cube, Harry,” Nowhere Man said, calling back to the crew compartment.
Harry and Amy lunged forward, looking out of the windshield.
“That’s it!” Amy cried.
“Give the man a cigar,” Harry said, pronouncing it “see-gar.”
“Now all we need are a couple of limes and a supertanker full of gin.” Nowhere Man said, raising the nose to bleed off some airspeed.
Boots whistled. “That thing’s big enough to have its own zip code.”
Nowhere Man brought the helicopter into a slow, arcing turn. About halfway around the iceberg, Amy excitedly yelled out.
“There!” She was pointing out her window. “See it? See that object sticking out of the ice at the base of the tallest pinnacle?”
“Yeah, I see it,” Boots said. “Looks like some kind of boat.”
At one end, the iceberg flattened out and sloped toward the sea. As the Black Hawk approached, Nowhere Man brought the ship into a hover directly over the ice.
“Okay, this looks like a good place to set down,” Nowhere Man said. “Harry, I’m going to ease down – you poke your head out the door, give me a visual, and make sure it’s safe to land.”
“Roger that, Nowhere. I’m on it.” Harry jumped up, slid the cargo door open, leaned out, and watched the iceberg loom up, then inch closer and closer…
With turbines whaling and carbon-fiber blades slapping the air, the powerful ship hovered inches above the ice, then as gently as a butterfly with sore feet, the chopper settled onto its wheels.
Harry and Amy were first out of the helicopter. Salty air mingled with helicopter jet fuel instantly filled their noses. They ducked beneath the spinning rotors, and, guarding their eyes from the wash, ran across the ice. They stopped and made a slow turn, surveying the massive block.
Amy bent down and touched the iceberg with her hand. “My God, it’s huge,” she said, barely able to contain her excitement.
“That usually happens the closer you get to an object,” Harry said flatly.
Amy gave him a playful shot in the arm. “Stop it.” She spun around again and stared up at the towering peak, then broke into a broad grin. “This is really exciting, Harry.”
“You know what all this ice reminds me of?”
“What?” Amy asked, taking the bait.
“Defrosting a refrigerator I had back in college.”
Amy shook her head. “You have a completely undeveloped sense of romance and adventure.” And she was suddenly moving across the ice towards a low ridge.
“Hold on!” Harry called. “One wrong step and you could be gone for good. You’ve got to know how to read the ice.”
“It’s hard as rock.” Amy argued, but stood frozen in her tracks.
“Trust me,” Harry said, and waved her back to the chopper.
Nowhere and Boots were busy securing the helicopter and double-checking the ice around the landing zone.
Back on board, Harry and Amy had changed and were pulling on down parkas.
They dismounted and began assembling their gear on the ice next to the helicopter: daypacks, food, crampons, ice axes, climbing rope, trekking poles, water – and Harry slipped a flare gun into his pack just in case.
Harry stepped up to Amy and clipped a rope onto her harness, linking them together with a safety line. Amy slipped on a pair of Oakley sunglasses, pulled a wool cap over her ears – and smiled gamely.
“Remember, stay close. And follow along in my footsteps.”
Amy flashed a thumbs-up and slipped a glove through a loop of leather attached to the handle of her trekking pole.
Nowhere Man dropped out of the chopper, gave them the once over, and whistled. “Man, you guys look ready to climb Everest.”
“I run a no b.s. outfit,” Harry shot back.
“Now, that’s b.s.,” Nowhere Man laughed. “You’ve got two hours on the ice, Harry – then I’m taking this bird home.”
Chapter 13
Harry stood at the top of an outcrop of ice belaying Amy as she prepared to rappel down the near-vertical wall.
“Okay, Harry, lower away…” Amy said, flashing thumbs up.
“Here we go. Watch your footing.” Harry began to pay out some line, watching Amy as she picked her way down the ice.
Harry quickly followed, leaving the rope anchored at the top for the return trip.
They dropped onto a flat stretch of ice that ran right up to the base of the pinnacle. They continued along single file, Harry in the lead with Amy following close behind, concentrating on hitting each of his footsteps.
With each step they could see their breath as they moved through the chill morning air. All around them ice dazzled with shades of aquamarine and deep blue.
Harry stopped to wipe some condensation off his sunglasses, then prodded the ice around him with the tip of his pole. “Looks like a cakewalk all the way to the ice wall.”
Amy nodded and took a sip of water.
Harry started forward again – and two steps later placed his foot on a weak section of ice and dropped into a waist-deep hole.
“Son of a bitch!” he yelled out, more startled than scared.
Amy quickly joined him and, after a few tugs, Harry struggled out of the hole and fell back onto the ice.
“You okay, Indiana?”
Harry gave her a deadly look as he climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. Amy was about to give him another prod, then decided to let it go.
“That was a stupid mistake,” Harry finally offered.
Behind him, Amy nodded her head up and down in an exaggerated manner and wanted to say “duh” but didn’t.
Fifteen minutes later, after carefully navigating the final fifty yards, Harry and Amy stood at the base of the towering pinnacle. It was a sheer wall of ice that thrust up four hundred feet into a cloudless sky.
“My God, it doesn’t seem real. It’s too perfect,” Amy said reverentially.
Harry let his eyes float up to the tip. “It’s humbling sight.” He moved up to the wall and drove in his ice axe. It bounced off the surface like it was a steel plate, hardly leaving a mark.
Harry examined the tip of his ice axe. “That stuff’s like bulletproof glass.”
Amy had moved ahead a few steps, then abruptly stopped – suddenly cemented in her boots. Up ahead, directly in front of her, jutting out of the base of the ice wall, was an ancient-looking skin boat. A kayak!
“There it is!” Amy yelled triumphantly. “Harry, we found it!”
Harry flipped around toward Amy’s voice, then raced over to join her.
“Amazing,” Harry said as they approached the kayak.
“This is fantastic, Harry,” Amy said, unable to control her excitement.
Harry reached out, running his hand along the skin-covered chine. “All these years… untouched.”
Amy was already bent over examining the inside. “Look at the craftsmanship. The skins are still tightly stretched over the armature.”
“Personally, I would’ve gone with fiberglass… but yeah, this is all right.”
Something beneath the kayak caught Amy’s eye. “Oh, wow…”
Harry looked over.
Amy held up a harpoon. “Look at this!”
It still carried its carved bone, togglehead tip, and a small length of frayed line remained attached to the point.
Harry gripped the tip of the harpoon, working the togglehead back and forth. “Man, you could bring down something big with this.”
“These artifacts must be thousands of years old,” Amy said in an awed voice.
Silence as they stood looking at the anci
ent artifacts, imagining back in time, thinking of the hunter who owned this kayak, and how it had magically come to rest here, trapped inside this iceberg.
And without warning – there was a sudden violent roar – then a whoosh of air…
Amy screamed, grabbing onto Harry and almost leaping into his arms. Together they spun toward the noise – both of them almost jumping out of their skins with fright.
There was another loud roar, then a geyser of water shot through a hole and sprayed across the ice.
They both stood, too stunned to speak or move, trying to regulate their breathing and calm their racing hearts.
Jesus…” Harry finally managed. “Must be some kind of blowhole.”
Amy peeled herself off Harry. “Sorry… I wasn’t ready for that,” she said, trying to mask her embarrassment.
“You and me both,” Harry said, the relief clear in his voice.
“I’ve seen that once before – in Baja California. The wave action causes suction, then surges up, releasing a spray of water.”
“Old Frightful,” Harry said flatly.
“Look,” Amy said, pointing in the direction of the spray of water. “A pool has formed.”
They made their way over to a perfect bowl-shaped pond of water about thirty feet across and too deep to see the bottom.
“Anyone for a swim?” Harry quipped.
Amy stepped down to the water’s edge. Careful not to slip, she dipped a finger into the water, tasted it, and immediately winced. “Yech! Very saline.”
Harry followed her down to the pool, tasted the water, grimaced. “Not only that, it’s salty.”
Amy laughed. “Sorry, but when you become a doctor you have no choice but to speak like that – it’s part of the oath.”
“No problem. Actually, I think it’s kind of sexy.”
She gave him a playful smile, then looked back at the pool. “The salt must delay the freezing.”
“I concur,” Harry added, trying to keep a straight face.
“I wonder how deep it is,” Amy said, inching closer, trying to plumb the depths. She leaned over, placing her hands on her knees, and stared intently into the azure pool.
She moved a bit closer, mesmerized by the pool, drawn to the icy water – and the half-eaten torso of an Inuit hunter suddenly bobbed to the surface directly below her face.
Amy reeled backwards, screaming at the top of her lungs. “My God!” she gasped, falling to the ice.
Harry lunged forward, grabbed Amy, and pulled her back from the pool.
“Son of a bitch,” Harry said when he could finally speak. He lifted Amy to her feet, and they both just stared down at the body floating in the pool.
The hunter’s skin was translucent and waxy and drained of all of its blood. His flesh was ripped and torn and hung in rubbery flaps. His lips were pulled back in a ghoulish grin over his teeth. His eyes were gone and in their place, two milky circles of frozen water looked up at nothing.
“Must be our kayaker,” Harry said.
The torso suddenly righted itself – and for a moment looked like it was staring directly at them. Then, just as quickly, it rolled back into the water.
Amy screamed, and they both jumped at the unexpected movement.
“My God!” she said, letting out her breath. Then they both began to laugh, trying to calm their nerves.
“Okay, alright, that’s it. I can’t take any more surprises,” Amy announced.
Slowly, the body began to settle and sink below the surface.
“Harry!” Amy cried. “Do something. It’s sinking.”
Oh, great, Harry thought: bobbing for torsos.
He leapt to the edge of the pool, then extended a hand to Amy. “Quick, take my hand.”
She jumped forward, took his hand, then clamped onto his wrist with her other hand. Harry leaned out – and with the tips of his fingers was just able to grip a torn piece of sealskin clothing. Then in one fluid motion, he pulled the half-eaten hunter out of the water and up onto the ice.
They stood looking down at the body. Even in death, the hunter radiated strength and nobility. Amy crossed herself and quietly said a prayer.
* * * *
Nowhere Man and Boots had set up a makeshift table next to the helicopter and were playing chess.
“Think about it, Boots… I bet we’re the first people in history to play chess on an iceberg,” Nowhere Man announced proudly.
“Yeah, and check it out –” Boots moved his queen down the board. “You’re going to be the first person to lose at chess on an iceberg.”
Nowhere Man pressed his lips together, studying the board. “You really know how to ruin a beautiful thought,” he said wistfully. He toppled his king signaling defeat, then stood, stretched, and scanned the iceberg for any signs of Harry and Amy. “Those two better get their butts back here right quick,” he said looking at his watch, then turned and climbed into the chopper.
Harry and Amy had bundled the hunter’s body into Harry’s parka and, carrying it like a sling between them, had begun the hike back to the helicopter.
The load was heavy and awkward, and their progress over the ice was slow. Amy kept stopping to adjust her grip on the parka.
“Harry, I can’t hang onto this. We’ve got to come up with another way to carry the body,” Amy said, losing her grip and dropping her end of the bundle.
Harry stopped and lowered the hunter’s body, letting it rest on the ice.
“I’m sorry, but the parka’s wet and my hands keep slipping.”
Harry blew out a lungful of air and, narrowing his eyes, looked at Amy.
“Hey, here’s an idea – maybe we should just leave Nanook of the North here where he belongs. Ever think of that?”
“Are you crazy?” Amy blurted.
“That’s an open subject,” Harry said flatly. “Definitely up for debate.”
“That this is a significant anthropological find is not up for debate, Mr. McNills.
We’re taking it back with us,” Amy said firmly.
Her using his last name was a bad sign, Harry thought to himself. He wanted to object, but something inside him knew the subject was closed and not up for negotiation.
Amy dropped to her knees, resting, and took a drink of water.
“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” Harry said, unclipping the trekking pole from his pack, then stepping up behind Amy and retrieving hers as well.
Kneeling over the hunter, Harry placed a pole on each side of the body, checking the length. “It just might work.”
He removed a Buck knife from his belt, flipped open the blade, cut a section of line in two, then began lashing the poles firmly beneath the hunter’s body. When he was finished, he looped another piece of line through the trekking poles’ handles, then tested them to see if they could stand the load.
“Brilliant!” Amy said, coming over with a big smile and placing a hand on his arm.
“Yeah, not too bad,” he said, soaking up the praise – quietly pleased with himself for having impressed Amy.
They gathered their gear and started toward the helicopter with Harry trailing the body behind him as it rode across the ice on the trekking poles like a sled.
Chapter 14
Lockwood was moving around the lab like a man possessed: clearing a place next to the microscope, cleaning the eyepieces, then stepping over to a small stainless steel freezer and removing a tray containing two blood samples that had been fixed beneath glass slides.
Standing off to one side, Inspector Hyde puffed his pipe, an amused look on his face as he watched Lockwood career around the room.
Lockwood placed the tray next to the microscope. “The blood samples have been frozen at minus twenty degrees for two hours, Inspector.”
He removed one of the slides from the tray, positioned it beneath the lens, and adjusted the focus. After a minute he straightened and motioned for Hyde to have a look.
Hyde dropped his pipe into his coat pocket, stepped up to the microsc
ope and peered through the eyepieces.
“What you’re looking at, Inspector, is a wash of human blood – Mr. Porter’s blood to be precise. It is normal O negative blood in every respect and has reacted exactly as it should when subjected to below-freezing temperatures. Note the blood cells – see how freezing has corrupted the cell walls?”
“Yes, I see…” the Inspector said, too fascinated to look up from the microscope. “They look misshapen and destroyed.” After a few more seconds he straightened and stepped away from the workbench.
Lockwood removed the slide, replaced it with another blood sample, and checked the focus. “Fantastic,” he muttered as he examined the new sample. He stepped back from the microscope and motioned with his hand for the inspector to have a look.
Hyde leaned over and looked into the microscope.
“What you are seeing, Inspector, are mammalian blood cells from an unknown donor. Note how the red blood cells are completely intact and seem unaffected in every way.”
The inspector nodded. “Yes, I see…”
“I think it’s safe to say, Inspector, that what you’re looking at has never been seen before outside this laboratory.”
The inspector continued scrutinizing the blood. After a long silence, he looked up at Lockwood. “What does it mean, Doctor?”
“I’m not really sure,” Lockwood answered frankly. “But whatever sort of animal or creature it was that attacked Mr. Porter – it has capabilities that have never been discovered before. If what we are seeing through that microscope turns out to be true and not some hoax – then theoretically the animal with that blood could survive cryogenic freezing, be thawed out, and be none the worse for the indignity.”
The inspector stared silently at Lockwood, absorbing what he’d just heard, then bent back over the microscope for another look at the mysterious blood.
Chapter 15
Nowhere Man dropped out of the Black Hawk’s cargo door, flipped open his cell phone, punched in a number, and let it ring. “Come on, McNills, answer your damn phone.” After ten rings, Nowhere Man snapped his phone shut. “Shit,” he said in frustration. “We should be in the air and headed home by now.”