Ice Man

by Samantha Winston

  They left the hangar without any trouble. As Allie suspected, no guards had been posted. When they stepped out the door, the icy wind slapped at them. Allie was glad of the furred hood covering most of her face. Although it might nearly be spring, winter still had this land in its tight grip. Taking Kell’s hand, she made her way through the dark toward the small, rounded building near the doorway. To her relief, it was the garage.

  The key opened the door and they slipped inside. She hit the lights and looked around. Five snowmobiles were lined up. She checked the gas tanks. Full and ready to go. Each snowmobile had an extra can of gas. She took all the extra ones and strapped them on one snowmobile. She took the keys out of the other snowmobiles’ ignitions and put them in her pocket. There was a map tacked on the wall. As she looked at it, she felt the blood drain from her face. She hadn’t even thought of bringing a map. She carefully took it down from the wall and studied it. Kell leaned over her shoulder.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s a map. It shows the land where we are.” She pointed to the small square marking the base. “We have to go here in order to find shelter.” She pointed to the east, towards the coast, where she hoped to find a village.

  He nodded, his expression bleak. She supposed she knew why. Everything he knew was useless now; he had to learn everything all over again, and it was bewildering.

  Then she got on the snowmobile and told Kell to sit behind her and to hold on tightly. He did, wrapping his powerful arms around her waist. She started the snowmobile, thanking her lucky stars that her cousins had one and she’d driven it often. The map in her pocket, the compass on her wrist, she drove out of the garage and into the night. She stopped at the security fence at the gate near the garage, but she had shut the electricity off, and she opened the gate with no trouble.

  If all went as planned, they would have a six hour head start.

  Chapter Four

  Kell nodded, his eyes burning with sleep. Beneath him, the machine that ran across snow rumbled steadily, eating up the leagues, putting distance between them and his prison. Sometimes he could believe that he dreamt, that the darkness and the cold were only part of his dream. He’d wake, and Vix would laugh at him, his eyes crinkling with mirth. Vix always laughed…

  He shook his head, his arms tightening around Allie’s waist. The woman was strong--he admired that in a woman--and she rode the machine with an ease that astounded him and made him a wee bit jealous. The terrain rose and fell, trees loomed out of the darkness, but the machine had a glowing eye that cast a beam of light and showed them the way.

  Did Allie follow the light, or did she direct it? How did the machine move with no wheels and no legs? He hadn’t gotten a good look at it in the stables where they’d been kept. He saw things, but didn’t understand them yet. At first, he’d assumed the row of machines was all one entity, but then Allie had explained they were like chariots--used for transportation. Of course, then he’d wondered where the horses were kept. When Allie had brought the machine to life, with a roar like a dragon, he’d nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d come to with his back pressed against the wall, his hands digging into the wood.

  Thankfully Allie hadn’t noticed, and he’d managed to peel himself off the wall before she’d motioned to him to approach. He’d forced his legs to move, praying she didn’t see how terrified the machine made him.

  He’d recognized some things, like the many doors inside that strange white prison. But he hadn’t been able to comprehend the tangled web of vine-like metal strung about. And though he’d seen many different kinds of dwellings, he’d yet to see one made of metal, like his prison.

  Stop. He didn’t want to go there anymore. Instead he watched the light as it stabbed into the darkness, but his eyes stung and his head still felt muzzy with sleep. Another gust of wind whipped stinging snow particles across his cheeks and he narrowed his eyes. Now, in the light, snow swirled thickly, obscuring their route. Allie slowed the machine to a crawl. For a while they continued like that, making their way blindly into the snowstorm. But suddenly a tree seemed to come out of nowhere, and Allie barely swerved the machine in time. She stopped and leaned over, exhaustion written on her face.

  Kell glanced up at the sky. No sign of dawn, and in the light of the machine’s eye, snow fell in a thick curtain. But the fir tree in front of them leaned invitingly, its sweeping branches already heaped with snow. Kell got off the machine and ducked under the branches. A space between the trunk and the branches beckoned. Perfect. He motioned to Allie, who nodded, pointing towards the machine. She wanted to put it under the branches as well.

  First they took their supplies off it. Then they hid the machine under the largest branch, creating a windbreak for them as well.

  Kell nodded in satisfaction, but when the machine stopped, so did the light. Then Allie took a thick stick out of her bag and a beam of light shot from it, startling him. She propped it in a fork in the branches, and started to set up a small, round tent. He watched her, his muscles tensing as she worked, imitating her moves in his head. The tent was familiar in shape; he’d seen similar tents in the steppes, but those had been made of skins, while this one seemed made of moonbeams. It shimmered, but when he touched it, it felt like the smooth skin of some strange fish. Could it be eel skin?

  She took the light out of the branch and pointed to the tent. The wind moaned and whistled in the treetops, the storm building to a fever pitch. Before he crawled into the tent, Kell took a last look around, satisfying himself that the tent would be sheltered by the tree and the machine that ran over snow.

  Inside the tent, Allie shrugged out of her snowsuit and hung it over a thin rope. Kell did the same, nodding his approval. In the cold, clothes had to be kept dry. He was amazed at how warm and dry the snowsuit and boots had kept him so far. Spacious and warm, the tent boasted a double door, a clothesline, and a small brazier that Allie wasted no time setting up. Kell sat still, his eyes taking in her every move. As before some things seemed familiar, while others made no sense.

  The brazier had a collapsible tube that fit into a hole in the tent. That made sense--smoke was a problem for tents. This brazier was made of white metal and stood on three sturdy legs. All that he’d seen before. But this brazier had another, smaller tube that ran from the brazier to a small, blue jug. The jug had a handle that turned, and a blue flame sprang from the top of the brazier so suddenly that Kell flinched.

  Allie turned and patted his arm. “I’m sorry. All this must seem so strange to you.”

  He closed his eyes. Strange was not the word. Everything he’d known had become twisted and bizarre. Familiar things had mutated into frightening machines--even horses had turned into rumbling machines that belched stinking fog and had one, bright eye. No, that was untrue. He knew what was machine and what lived--his world had its share of machines, but none that ran by themselves. A shiver ran over his body.

  Blindly, he put out his hand towards the warmth of the brazier. Fire still gave warmth. His hand brushed against soft skin and he froze.

  Eyes still closed, he ran his fingertips over Allie’s brow, over her cheeks and across her jaw. His fingers dipped down, following her neck to where her pulse beat strongly. She caught his hand in hers, holding it tightly. Pulling her to him, he pressed his lips to the soft skin on her temple. Her curly hair tickled his face, but he didn’t open his eyes. The feel of a woman…that hadn’t changed. The scent and taste of women hadn’t changed.

  A deep sigh escaped him as warmth crept into his bones. Soft and sweet, and strong and brave. “Allie,” he whispered. The tent leaned as the wind buffeted it, but the brazier warmed the air, and he opened his eyes to stare at the woman who’d saved him from the prison.

  “What is it?” Her big, brown eyes were questioning. Her lashes cast jagged shadows on her cheeks.

  “Thank you.” He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him. A little hesitantly, she put her arms around his shoulders.

 
; “You’ve got such broad shoulders,” she said, a catch in her voice.

  He tugged at her chemise and lifted it over her head, then stopped, perplexed. He’d seen brassieres like hers in Rome, but they’d been made of knitting. This one had tiny hooks and stretched like a supple skin. She unhooked it, a smile curving her lips. And then she stood and slipped her pants off. In the pale, blue light of the brazier, her skin took on the glow of polished marble.

  “You look like the statue of a nymph.” He got to his knees and cupped her buttocks in his hands. Holding her tightly, he pressed his face to her sex, letting the smell and feel of her soothe his shattered nerves.

  She whimpered softly and leaned into him, her legs parting slightly.

  Tilting her pelvis with his hands, he nuzzled her pubis, his tongue lapping at her slit. His cock hardened as his tongue found her cleft and parted her labia, searching. Hot, slick flesh surrounded his tongue, and he thrust gently, stroking her until with a cry she opened for him, her rich juices making him so stiff he could hardly bear it.

  He loved the taste of a woman, and Allie was like sweetest ambrosia. He found her clit with his tongue and flicked it hungrily, nibbling at the tiny protuberance until she writhed in his hands, her gasps and mews growing louder as she got wetter.

  His hands tightened on her buttocks, squeezing her flesh. By Toutatis, he needed to fuck her now. He plunged his tongue one last time into her cunt, and then he leaned back and tipped his head up, licking a trail from the inside of her thighs to her chest as he got from his knees to his feet. Pausing to suck each nipple, he reached for his cock.

  Allie fit into his embrace perfectly. Two thousand years hadn’t changed the way a woman fit into a man’s arms. Another tremor ran through him. Time, don’t think about time. The druids said it didn’t exist, that it could be bent…they’d been right.

  He pushed his cock into her hot, tight sheath, his buttocks clenching with each thrust. Little cries came from Allie’s throat, exciting him even more. He answered her with deep growls from his chest, his growls growing louder as his balls contracted and pressure built in his groin.

  Pausing to draw his cock out of her sex, he lowered her gently to the floor. Kell admired Allie for a moment, his gaze roaming over the wealth of her curves, coming to rest on her face. She reached toward him, her face flushed. With a contented sigh, he plunged back into the snug warmth of her body.

  Allie wrapped her legs around him, urging him with her heels drumming against his flanks. The hard thump of her heels and her nails, raking across his back, spurred him on.

  Suddenly a hot stream of seed shot from his cock, spurting into her womb with a force that nearly made him black out. He clasped her to him, holding on tightly, her breasts crushed to his chest as he emptied himself into her, feeling as if his life force left him as well. His arms trembled, and he breathed in great gulps. Allie shivered in his arms, her body still except for a slight tremor he could feel in her cunt, as if she milked the last of his seed into her body.

  * * * * *

  Allie came to with the sound of the wind screaming in her ears. The tent rocked alarmingly, and gusts of wind deformed the walls, batting against it like the paws of some great beast. Cold had seeped in, but the Bunsen burner kept it at bay. She’d set it on low to economize the butane. The tent had been designed for survival in the far north. Insulated from the floor to the roof, it would withstand even the most extreme temperatures.

  Kell lay curled up and asleep in the corner, his head resting on the sleeping bag she’d neglected to unroll. Opening her backpack, she took out a small pan and a bottle of water. She put the water in the pan and set it on the little stove to boil. Then she rummaged until she found a washcloth and, shivering a bit in the chill, she washed herself before pulling on her clothes.

  There was nothing else to do now except wait out the storm and hope that the compass she’d been following that night hadn’t steered them wrong. She’d simply headed northeast, towards a series of deep coves that scalloped the coastline. Hopefully the scientists would think they had headed south, towards the cities.

  She looked again at Kell. Aside from an evident nervousness, he hadn’t let on that anything had frightened him. He’d sat upon the snowmobile and hadn’t moved, although for the first few minutes he’d gripped her so tightly she could barely breathe. He’d been startled by the tent and the Bunsen burner, but aside from the materials they were made from, the tent and the little stove wouldn’t look that different from the tents and braziers from his time period. What most people didn’t realize was that nothing was new--everything had already been invented by the ancients. Modern man had simply improved on the design.

  She glanced at her wristwatch. Well, electronic things and fuel-powered engines would be very new and different to Kell. So would little things like zippers and doorknobs. But ancient myths had mechanical beings in them, flying machines and, if you studied the mythology of the Celts and the Mayas, they even had theories about time being slowed, speeded up or even stopped altogether. So Kell wouldn’t be too terribly overwhelmed if they could find a small, secluded village. She would help him adapt and find a place for himself, and then she’d… She blinked. She had no idea what she’d do. She had put off thinking about the future as much as possible, but she had to face it sometime.

  How could she leave Kell and go back to her life before? Would they arrest her? Fire her? Her head ached and she rubbed her temples. She’d think of all that later. Right now, she had to think of Kell. Helping Kell find a new life seemed essential. Her heart contracted at the idea of leaving him, but she couldn’t stay with him forever. He deserved to be able to make his own life.

  She could always go back and get a good lawyer. What could they do to her? She’d have to pay for the snowmobile and the snow suits that she’d ruined, and knowing the army, the bill would be astronomical. But put her in prison? For what? They wouldn’t want anyone to know that they had been about to dissect a living man. She’d kept the fax. If worse came to worst, she could always use that for her defense.

  But all that paled to finding Kell a place to live, where he could start over again. She glanced at him. He didn’t appear cold, but she unrolled the second sleeping bag and covered him. Then she made herself a coffee with the hot water and listened to the sound of the storm. Who would come after them, and how could she hide Kell?

  Chapter Five

  Bruce Steele hit his night table with his hand, but missed the telephone. Groaning, he sat up. His head ached, and he rubbed his temples. Damn, whatever he’d had last night hadn’t let him off easy. The drink still hammered at his head. Or could it be the noise of that damn phone?

  He cursed and fumbled for the light switch, then regretted it as the light sent stabbing pains to his head. Eyes screwed shut, he grabbed his phone and flicked it on.

  “Yeah,” he growled.

  “Bruce Steele?”

  “Who is this?” His voice grated like splintered glass, but his head had cleared instantly. He opened his eyes and squinted at the clock. Five a.m. “What do you want?”

  “My name is Captain Bide. You don’t know me and I have never met you, but I know all about you, Mr. Steele. And what I know is you’re the man I need for my mission. I’ll fill you in when you get here. I won’t say anything over the phone. Be at the Montreal airport in two and a half hours, with your tracking--”

  “Hold it buddy. I don’t remember giving you permission to call me, and I don’t remember giving any indication I would track anyone this week. So why don’t you just hang up right now and forget you ever called me.”

  “Mr. Steele, I don’t think you understand me. I work for the United States government and we need your help. Your regular pay will be doubled.”

  Steele let his breath out slowly. Captain Bide, whoever he was, had touched a nerve. “Triple it, and we have a deal.”

  “Done.”

  No hesitation. Shit, he should have held out for more. “All right, done. Wh
at flight am I on?”

  “Go to Bear Lake charters and tell them your name. Your plane leaves in three hours. You’ll be here by ten a.m., and I’ll fill you in then.”

  “Where exactly is here? I need to know…”

  “You don’t need to know anything right now. You’ll find out everything you need to know when you get here.”

  “Right.” Steele clicked off his phone and stood, rubbing his hand over his face. An aspirin, a shower, a coffee, and then he’d grab the bag he always kept packed in case of emergencies like this and head out. Had some tourist gotten lost again? No, the military wouldn’t be concerned about tourists. A soldier gone AWOL? Maybe.

  He took his coffee out of the microwave and sipped it as he studied the weather reports on the weather station. He was headed north, that much he could divine--he’d heard of Bear Lake charters. They serviced a large area up in Inuit country. He studied the weather patterns carefully, noting a large depression and storm warnings. Whoever had gotten lost had not picked a very good time to wander out into the wilderness.