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In the meantime, he lifted a prayer for Kate and Fenn. “Please, Lord, keep my friends safe and warm and don’t let them get too bored.”
Or too dead.
17
The narrow beamsof their headlights pierced the night, illuminating a few hundred feet of the endless expanse of snow and ice leading, Kate hoped, to the abandoned communications lab Rog had told them about. She squinted against the glare, her breath fogging the inside of her goggles. The cold was a living thing, seeping through her layers of clothing and biting at her exposed skin.
She revved her snowmobile’s engine, the powerful machine thrumming beneath her as she followed Fenn into the inky darkness. The stars glittered overhead, their icy brilliance a stark contrast to the velvet black sky. The northern lights danced, ribbons of green and blue undulating like ghostly fingers reaching down to brush the frozen landscape.
Despite the heated handlebars and the thermal layers beneath her parka, Kate could feel the chill settling into her bones. She flexed her fingers inside her mittens, trying to keep the circulation going. One mistake out here, one miscalculation, and hypothermia would claim them long before help could arrive.
And that was before factoring in the threats she’d already faced. The memory of being run down, of the fear that hadgripped her as she’d struggled to evade her attacker, sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
Maybe this wasn’t the smartest idea…
The wind picked up, howling across the barren landscape like a wounded animal. She was thinking about running her machine close to Fenn, to suggest they turn back, when he swerved close, motioning her to stop. He stood tall, straddling his ride, and thrust an arm into the air, gesturing at the towering ledge of snow their headlights just reached. The facing edge had collapsed downward, the razor-like cliff now crumbled into boulders of ice, the abandoned communications lab smashed beneath them.
The two arcs of light barely illuminated a fissure running vertically down the ledge. The bottom edge had been hacked open, creating a blue-tinged tunnel. Bits of twisted steel, long rusted in the elements, framed the opening, guarding the entrance like broken monster’s teeth.
Kate’s hand instinctively went to the holster around her waist. She didn’t dare remove her mitten to grasp the gun, knowing her fingers would freeze in seconds. But the weight of the weapon was reassuring, a tangible reminder that she wasn’t defenseless.
Fenn got off his machine and strode toward her, taking off his helmet and pulling down his insulated face mask.
Kate lifted off her own helmet.
“With this wind, I don’t think anyone inside heard us approach,” he yelled.
“Agreed. We should circle around from opposite directions, meet up on either side of the tunnel.”
“Roger that.”
They split off, their snowmobiles carving twin paths through the deep snow. Kate kept her eyes on the ledge, her heart pounding in time with the rumble of the engine. She couldn’tshake the feeling that they were being watched, that somewhere out in the darkness, unseen eyes were tracking their every move.
As she turned to skirt the ledge, she caught sight of Fenn’s headlight. He’d already dismounted, his tall frame a dark silhouette against the snow. Kate pulled up and killed her engine. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the mournful howl of the wind.
She debated bringing her helmet inside, but she wanted her hands free.
Fenn set his helmet just inside the opening of the tunnel. “Ready?”
She swung her leg over the snowmobile, her boots sinking into the deep powder of a drift. She unholstered her gun, the metal cold even through her mitten.
“As I’ll ever be.” She pulled off her helmet and set it next to Fenn’s.
Together, they moved towards the tunnel entrance, their steps muffled by the snow. Kate’s breath caught in her throat as they crossed the threshold, the darkness swallowing them whole.
Even with their night-vision goggles, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap, that whatever waited for them inside the abandoned communications camp would be far more dangerous than the unforgiving landscape they’d just traversed.
She followed Fenn into the narrow tunnel, her heart pounding against her ribs. They switched on their NVGs and waited, surveying the wider vestibule beyond.
Nothing registered. No signs of life. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of old wood and forgotten memories. Fenn pointed to the left.
Her heartbeat sped up. A new-looking insulated enclosure about six feet by six feet had been squeezed as far back againstthe ice wall as possible. A maintenance door had been cut into the front side. She inched closer.
“Generator,” Fenn guessed.
So someone had been using the old lab. Judging from the condition of the enclosure, recently.
“I’ll take point, “ Fenn said, his voice low and rough in the confined space.