The Ice King (The Witch Ways 0.5)(22)



Drs Crowe and Byrne looked puzzled.

“What the hell is that?” Dr Byrne was rifling through the company regulations.

“Everyone is confined to their quarters. Kit yourselves up to keep warm and we’ll sit it out, bears and weather, both.” Dr Hardy stood up “In the morning we’ll sort out the comms problems and radio in for a rescue plane. We are officially done here.”

He reached for his half-finished packet of biscuits and headed to his room.

Vanessa had thought that she would not sleep as the wind rattled at the narrow triple glazed window in her quarters but she dozed as the tiredness of the last few days crept over her like a blanket of snow, drifting and layering her into a deeper sleep.

It was warm lying here in the dream and she was speckled with the tree shadows so that it was like sleeping in a forest. She dreamt in colour; gold and green, and tonight there was the scent of smokey honey, of wool and tobacco and leather. Her dream self saw him, the dream stranger, in the corner of the room. He was watching her, stepping forward, closer, closer, come closer her dream mind called to him.

The dream stranger did not seem so strange when his hands slid around her waist and she turned into him, feeling his beard brush against her ear as his head turned to greet her. His salt and pepper hair slightly draggly, so she lifted her hand, pushed it behind his ear so that she could have a better look at the dream stranger’s face.

She didn’t say hello, as her mouth opened to take in a breath, his mouth closed over hers and she was lost in the kiss, desire heating her hips as he shifted his weight, his eyes looking down at her, intense, one green, she saw, oh, and one brown.

“There’s no time.” he said and kissed her again, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip, Vanessa pulling him into her, pressing herself into the shape of him before waking up with a start.

It was pitch dark and the wind sounded panicked. Dark. Pitch dark. Utter dark. No. Vanessa let her eyes adjust. There was the faintest light from the emergency lighting in the hallway, a dim orange glow.

Vanessa was not sure what any of the emergency protocols were, Dr Hardy had mentioned an employee manual on her arrival and never got around to finding her copy. He had not thought it was her responsibility to know much more than where the emergency exits were in case of a fire. It felt colder than it should so Vanessa made a guess that the power was out. In the darkness she fumbled around for her outdoor kit, pulled on her ski pants and gloves, zipped up her jacket and headed out into the corridor.

No sound except for the wind. No, that was wrong. There was a knocking sound, a rhythmic donkdonkdonk that was coming from further along the corridor. Vanessa turned, there was something hard and heavy bouncing towards her, a football, no, curved oval, more like a rugby ball. Dr Byrne was alongside it, running as if she was part of the rugby game, her arms were widening, ready to tackle Vanessa.

. Before Dr Crowe’s head took its last bounce and rolled to a stop at the scuffed and grubby metal skirting Vanessa and Dr Byrne were running through the workroom door.

Dr Byrne was careful, closing it quietly behind her, shoving her weight against it to slide the bar into place.

“Help me….” she was already dragging at the countertop, the metal legs screeling protest against the concrete floor as Vanessa pitched in behind her, jamming the counter behind the door.

“The workroom is the oldest part of the building.” Dr Byrne’s voice was breathless and panicky “…and made from sheet steel. The door here is thicker and heavier too because it was once the outside door. You understand?” Dr Byrne looked earnest and terrified. Vanessa understood completely that the recitation of facts was the only thing tethering Dr Byrne to sanity.

“You know, compared to this place the rest of the research centre is made out of paper.” Dr Byrne gave a short uneasy laugh.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Something attacked. Hunters?” Dr Byrne’s eyes were wide with fear, making her look almost childlike.

“Hunters? Hunting the bear?” Vanessa asked, her heart jolting with confusion. Dr Byrne’s breathing was short and tight as the two women stood looking at each other.

“Bear. Beasts. I don’t know. I don’t know. Crowe is dead. Obviously.”

“What should we do?” Vanessa had only one thought in her head, that she must hide, but that didn’t seem very pragmatic. Hiding just left you open to being found, surely. Eventually. “What about fixing the comms mast? Send a signal?”

Dr Byrne was struggling to master her breathing and shook her head.

“Vanessa…” she panted “Something is badly wrong here and no one is coming for us…” her breath was wheezing horribly now, her voice a distant ghost of itself “…we’re cheaper to lose than a company helicopter…” wheeze, gasp, wheeze, “…and besides…” wheeze, wheeze, suck, sputter, “…. most of us are dead.”

She fell forward, like a tree, her bodyweight crushing Vanessa against the barricade they had made.

“Dr Byrne…?” Vanessa was pinned, Dr Byrne’s face loomed close, her last breath expiring against Vanessa’s cheek, her body limp and wet. Vanessa struggled sideways, holding Dr Byrne upright as best she could.

“Dr Byrne?” as Vanessa reached up to Dr Byrne’s face she saw her own hand blackened with blood in the glow of the emergency lighting. Dr Byrne’s body was too weighty for her, as Dr Byrne’s body slipped down, Vanessa was dragged with it.

Helen Slavin's Books