Ice Hunt

It was tracking them, slowly, cautiously, driving them deeper into the ice island.

“What is it waiting for?” Matt asked.

“For our luck to run out,” she answered, remembering Lacy Devlin’s fate. “One of these times, we’re going to turn into a dead end. A blocked passage, a cliff. Then we’ll be trapped.”

“Deadly and smart…a great combination.”

Together they rounded a curve of smooth tunnel. The crampons on Amanda’s boots gave her traction, but Matt slid, skidding around on the ice. She grabbed his arm to help him keep his footing.

Matt turned to her. “We can’t keep this up. We’re just heading deeper and deeper down, away from where we want to go.”

“What else can we do?” She held up the small ice ax she had taken from Connor. “Face it with this?”

“Not a chance.”

“Well, you’re Fish and Game. I’m geophysical engineering. This is your department.”

Matt bunched his brows. “We need something to lure this thing off our scent. Lay a false track for it to follow. If we could slip past it, get above it, then at least we’d be heading toward the exit as we ran.”

Amanda struggled for an answer to this riddle, her mind shifting into objective mode. She reviewed what she knew about the beasts. Little to nothing was the answer, but that did not preclude her from extrapolating hypotheses. The grendels hunted by echolocation, but they were also sensitive to light and perhaps even heat. She remembered her experience in the beast’s nest. It hadn’t been aware of her hiding place until after it destroyed the flashlight and she had begun to sweat.

Light and heat. She sensed an answer here, but what?

They ran past another crisscrossing of tunnel—then she had it!

“Wait!” she called out, and stopped.

Matt slowed, braking on his heels, one hand on the wall. He turned to her.

Amanda backed to the tunnel crossings. Light and heat. She tugged the chin strap to her helmet and pulled it off. She twisted on the lamp so it glowed brightly, then reached to her waist where her air-warming mask was belted in place next to its heater. She unhooked it and dialed the heating element to full burn. It quickly grew warm in her hands.

“What are you thinking?” Matt asked.

She hurried back to the crossroads, eyes scanning for any sign of the hunter. “These creatures hone in on light and heat signatures.” She flipped over her mining helmet and crammed the air-warming mask and its heater—now hot to the touch—inside the helmet.

She lifted her creation higher.

Matt joined her and nodded. “A lure for a false trail.”

“Let’s hope this does the trick.” She slipped past him, ducked low to the ice, and flung the helmet down the main tunnel. The yellow helmet skated and spun atop its crown, light twirling like an ambulance siren. It bounced off a wall and disappeared around the bend, carrying her air-warming unit with it.

Amanda stood and faced Matt. “Light and heat. The grendel will hopefully follow after the lure, heading deeper. Once past here, we can sneak behind its back and head up.”

“Like tossing a stick for a dog.” Matt nodded, eyeing her with more respect. He turned off his flashlight. The only illumination now came from the vanished helmet.

In the darkness, they retreated down the side tunnel and hid behind a tumbled fall of ice blocks. Crouched together, they stared back at the main passage. The glow of the helmet was faint, but it was stable. The helmet must have come to a stop somewhere below. Amanda hoped it rested far enough down the shaft to give them a good lead from the beast.

Now to wait, to see if the grendel took the bait.

1:18 P.M.

Matt knelt on one knee. He spied through a peephole that pierced the tumble of ice. Eyes wide, he strained to soak up every photon of light that illuminated the neighboring passage. He struggled to hear any sign of the beast. All that he could sense was the vague, nagging vibration of the hunting beast’s sonar. It was dull—but growing.

The woman’s fingers in his hand suddenly spasmed tighter.

Matt spotted it, too. Shifting shadows.

A dark bulk pushed into view, soaking up the feeble glow of the abandoned helmet. The creature filled the passage, shouldering up to the crossroads. In the shadows, it looked as black as oil, though Matt knew it was as pale as bleached bone.

It stopped.

Lips rippled back to show the glint of teeth. Its bulky head swayed to either side. The buzz of its sonar swamped over them. It seemed to vibrate the very darkness, searching for prey.

Matt held perfectly still. Though well hidden by the fall of ice, he feared any movement might attract the beast. Could it sense their body heat through the frozen blocks?

He felt the creature’s gaze upon him.

He feared even to blink. Take the bait, damn you!

The gaze continued to penetrate the tunnel, suspicious, sensing something. It snorted deep in its throat—then it tossed its head around.

It slunk down the passage, slowly but steadily, drawn toward the light and the heat. Whatever it had sensed from them, it ignored and turned toward the stronger lure.

Then it was gone.

Matt waited a full minute, long enough for the beast to move far down the passage and around the bend. Then he carefully stood and moved back to the main corridor. They didn’t dare wait too long. Soon the grendel would learn of their ruse and backtrack here. They needed to put as much distance between the beast and themselves as possible.

Amanda kept beside him. He checked the passage. The shadow of the grendel could be seen sliding around the bend as the beast hunted its false prey.

He signaled Amanda.

They reached the main corridor and headed away into the dark, careful of their steps, feeling with their hands as the distant light of the helmet totally waned away.

After a minute, Matt had to risk using his flashlight, praying that the flare of light didn’t attract the grendel. He flicked on the lamp but held his palm over it, muting the glow. The light streamed faintly between his fingers, but it was enough. They increased their speed.

Neither spoke.

As they half ran and half skated along, moving upward in the passageways, Matt grew concerned about other grendels that might be down here. Yet so far there had been no telltale brush of sonar.

He finally risked his own walkie-talkie. He passed the flashlight to Amanda, then pressed the radio to his lips. He whispered, afraid to let his voice carry too far. “Lieutenant Greer? Can you read me? Over.”

He listened for an answer, racing a step ahead of Amanda.