by David Meyer
Chapter 84
My eyes bulged as I walked into the cavern. The lake was roughly the size of a professional basketball court. Fungi covered the rocks along its shoreline. I noticed a few green plants as well. It was beautiful in a way, a veritable underground paradise surrounded by miles of endless snow.
"Lots of space," Graham eyed the lake. "And free swimming too."
My gaze locked onto the nearest wall. I saw streaks of blood as well as bits of rotten gore. A light breeze touched my face, carrying with it the faint odors of feces and raw meat. The area didn't smell like an untouched lake. It smelled like a slaughterhouse.
So much for paradise.
"It's not so bad," I replied. "If you can get past the stench of death."
A smooth rock floor stretched around the lake. At the northern end, I saw a long passage. I thought I saw a door at the end of it, but it was too far away to be certain. A door, large and circular, stood on the far side of the lake. It looked like the door to a bank vault and was cracked open a couple of feet.
Baxter knelt down next to the water. He held his hand out over the surface. "How does it stay so warm?"
"It's being heated by the Earth," I replied. "The water must extend deep into the crust, all the way to the mantle. It mixes with hot rocks and flows back up here."
"In other words, it's one big pool of thermal energy. Too bad this isn't closer to Kirby."
"It looks like the Nazis made good use of it." I pointed to a series of long pipes. They entered the lake on the south side and quickly vanished underwater. "They built some kind of primitive geothermal pump to extract heat from the lake. They must've used it to generate electricity."
"Do you think it still works?"
I held up a finger, cutting him off. I listened hard for a few seconds, trying to distinguish sounds from the howling winds high above us.
Graham frowned. "Hear something?"
"Yes," I replied. "It was like a strange skittering sound. But I don't—”
"Look." Graham stabbed his finger toward the opposite side of the lake. "Over there."
I squinted. "Where?"
"I …" Graham craned his neck. "I could've sworn I saw something."
I frowned. "Fenrir?"
"Maybe."
I studied the opposite shore. "What is Fenrir?" I asked Baxter.
"I don't know," he replied. "But it's definitely not of this world."
I arched an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
"Look at the evidence. This place was abandoned decades ago. What kind of animal survives that long? And where does it get food? A beast of its size can't live off fungi alone."
The sound of banging metal brought me back to reality. Turning around, I stared uneasily at the sloping tunnel. "That door won't hold them forever."
Beverly hurried back to the lower door. She swung it shut and bolted it. "It looks like we've got two choices. The vault or the tunnel."
"We can't keep running," I said. "Sooner or later, we're going to run out of room."
"Maybe not. You saw the barricade up there. Fenrir never broke through it. And yet, it still managed to get outside."
I nodded slowly. "You're right. There must be another exit."
I directed my beam to the side. Iron cages of all shapes and sizes were stacked against the near wall. Some of their gates hung from broken hinges. Other gates lay on the ground. Still others had been ripped into multiple pieces.
Beverly swallowed. "Animal testing?"
"Sure looks that way," I replied. "The Nazis must've used them as extra test subjects."
"So, it wasn't just Fenrir that escaped." Graham stroked his jaw. "The Nazis fled. The animals gave chase. At least one of the Nazis escaped. He ran to the grotto and bolted the door. Then he stacked up the furniture to keep the animals from breaking it down."
"I wonder what happened to him."
"I'm betting he's the dead soldier we found at the gas chamber," Graham said. "Fenrir escaped via the back route and tracked him down. Killed him and all the others too."
I glanced at Baxter. "You know, this might explain the food question. After the animals escaped, they took up residence here. They formed their own ecosystem."
"Maybe," he said. "But that still doesn't explain Fenrir's size and strength. I'm telling you it's not like other animals."
Metal smashed against metal. The sound echoed through the cavern.
"Come on," I said. "This way."
I turned toward the long passage. Then I stopped.
Those eyes …
The red eyes emerged from the darkness. A cloak of mist surrounded its face but I could make out other details. I saw its silhouette. Its slinky body. Its long, powerful muscles. Its thick matted hair. It was Fenrir.
And it was hungry.
Chapter 85
The massive beast coiled up its body and bared its teeth. Drool dripped from its jaw. Foam bubbled up at the corners of its mouth.
I grabbed my machete. The beast leapt at me. I didn't have time to swing my blade. So, I threw my arms in front of my face, hoping to ward it off.
Three quick blasts reverberated in the cavern. The air zinged. I heard multiple thudding noises.
The beast faltered in mid-air. One second later, it crashed to the ground just inches from my boots. It shuddered a few times. Then it went still.
I breathed softly through my mouth. "Nice shooting."
Baxter kept his pistol aimed at the beast. His right eye twitched rapidly. "Is it dead?"
I crouched down. The beast lay on its side, with its head facing away from me. It was difficult to see, even with my flashlight beam. The heavy layer of snow stuck to its fur didn't help. "It's not moving."
"That doesn't mean anything."
Holding my breath, I crept toward the beast. I passed around to the other side, keeping a safe distance from it. I worked my way around its hind legs. Its chin was tucked into its body so I couldn't see its face. I was forced to move closer.
My breaths came short and fast. A little bit of its face came into view. I extended my machete. Carefully, I used the blade to lift the creature's head off the ground. "Where'd you shoot it?"
"The head," Baxter replied. "Three times."
"Are you sure? Because I don't see any …" My heart froze as the beast's eyes opened wide. "… bullet holes."
The beast lunged at me. Its jaws snapped at my hand.
I reeled backward.
Its teeth latched onto my blade. They ripped the machete out of my fingers. Moments later, it clattered against the floor.
"Shoot it," Graham yelled.
Bullets crisscrossed the air.
The beast grunted.
I twisted around. My beam illuminated the metallic blade. I scrambled across the floor and scooped it up.
Claws clicked swiftly against the rock.
I whirled around. The beast was almost on top of me. I smelled its wet fur. Its breath reeked of blood and grease.
It lunged at me.
I rolled to the side.
Its paw ripped into my parka. The beast tried to slow itself, but its claws slipped on the concrete. It slid to the side and crashed into one of the broken cages.
I ran to the beast. Plunged my machete into its fur. My hand kicked backward. Shockwaves shot through my body.
Its hide is like armor. No wonder the bullets didn't hurt it.
The beast lifted its head. Its red eyes stared right through me.
Baxter darted forward. He swung his gun like a club.
The air cracked. The beast recoiled a few inches. Then it shook its head. A low-pitched growl escaped its mouth.
"Aw hell." Baxter winced. "I think I just made it mad."
The beast veered to the side. Its huge body smashed into him. Baxter sank to a knee and clutched at his stomach, gasping for air.
A plan formed in my brain. "Run Pat."
Baxter scrambled forward.
The beast tried to run after him. But its paws slippe
d on the floor.
I ran to the cages. Grabbed one of the broken iron gates. Straining my back, I hefted it into the air. "Lead it back this way."
The beast's paws caught hold of the rock. It raced forward.
I climbed onto a cage. Then I placed my left foot onto a second cage, straddling the gap between them.
Baxter increased his speed and turned in a wide circle, narrowly skirting the edge of the lake.
So did the beast.
My gaze shifted from Baxter to the beast and back to Baxter again. "Faster," I shouted.
He dove through the gap.
I dropped the gate.
The beast smacked into the iron bars. The gate shifted backward, colliding against the cages.
I leapt to the floor.
The beast weaved away. It shook its head a few times. Then it growled again.
This thing's unstoppable.
Pistol in hand, Baxter strode forward.
"Get back, Pat," Graham shouted.
"Someone's got to stop it," he said through gritted teeth.
"Are you crazy? What about Liza?"
Baxter hesitated, but only for a second. Then he rushed forward.
The beast opened its jaws.
Baxter ran right up to it. Shoved his pistol under its throat. A loud bang rang out.
Blood rushed from the beast's jaw. It toppled backward and crashed into the lake. Its paws paddled at the water for a moment. Then it sank beneath the surface.
Graham took a deep breath. "Is it …?"
"I think so," I said.
Baxter keeled over and dropped to his knees. I ran to his side. His shirt had big teeth marks in it. So did his stomach.
"Pat?" I exhaled softly. "Are you okay?"
Baxter lay perfectly still. Then sweat started to bead up on his forehead. It gathered into tiny pools and ran down his cheeks like waterfalls.
Abruptly, he recoiled. His body twisted. His head swung violently to the side. Then he went still again.
Graham peeled off his shirt. Desperately, he tried to quench the blood pouring out of Baxter's stomach. "Hold on. You're going to be fine."
I studied Baxter's face. His eye was no longer twitching. But his cheeks were sunken. His color was ashen. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him we could've found another way to kill it.
But I forced myself to stay quiet. Deep down, I understood his actions. He'd been hunting Fenrir for far too long. In the process, he'd mythologized it. He didn't see it for what it was, namely an animal operating on instincts. Instead, he saw it as evil incarnate.
"Is it …?" He wheezed for air. "Is it dead?"
"Yeah," Graham said. "You killed it."
Baxter's lips parted. His tongue flicked like a snake. His jaw moved as he tried to say something. But he just gurgled instead.
"Take it easy." Graham's voice wavered. "It's going to be—”
"Do you know how long I've waited for this moment?"
"Years?"
"Decades." His voice dipped an octave. "Don't you see? I had to kill it."
High above, metal crashed against metal. It sent a shiver through my body.
"Come on," Graham said. "We have to get you out of here."
Graham tried to lift Baxter off the ground. But Baxter tore away from him. "Liza never got over you, you know. I saw it in her eyes every time I kissed her."
"That's ridiculous. She loves you."
Baxter shook his head.
"Listen to me." Graham gave him a hard shake. "I saw her eyes too. And I heard the way she talked about you. She's crazy about you."
A light appeared in Baxter's eyes. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Baxter was silent for a moment. "Can you give her a message?"
Graham bit his lip.
Baxter's skin turned pale. His lips grew blue. "Tell her … tell her I …"
His eyes closed. His lips sagged.
Then he died.
Chapter 86
Graham gathered up Baxter's body. He carried it to the side of the cavern. Then he took a few steps backward and dipped his head.
"Dutch." I put my hand on his shoulder. "We need to go."
He exhaled a long breath. "Lead the way."
Stepping quickly, I ran across the massive cavern. Broken glass, torn papers, and chunks of rock littered the ground.
"What was that thing?" I breathed heavily. "It looked like some kind of wolf, but I didn't recognize the breed."
"It was an arctic wolf." Graham spoke without emotion. "They're indigenous to the Arctic, Alaska, and northern Greenland. You know, like this place only on the opposite end of the world."
I slowed down to run side by side with him. "You've seen one before?"
"I ran into a pack of them in Alaska back in the day. This one was bigger and stronger. But it was definitely an arctic wolf."
We ran into a long passage. The air grew colder. "What do you know about them?"
"Their fur is heavily insulated. So, they're well adapted for cold temperatures. They live in the dark for months at a time and can go weeks without food." He inhaled, exhaled. "Plus, they usually consume their prey. And I mean the whole damn thing."
"Even the bones?"
He nodded.
Beverly raced to the end of the passage. Without pause, she ran through a wide open door.
The air grew increasingly chilly as I followed her into a cave. In terms of length and width, it was roughly the size of the upper grotto. But in terms of height, it was in a class of its own. I lifted my beam. It passed over rough and uneven walls. I estimated they stood well over one hundred feet tall.
On the opposite side of the cave, I noticed a couple of racks. They'd been knocked askew. Wrenches and other tools were scattered all over the floor.
I shifted my beam to the east. It illuminated a line of long cylindrical objects. They were covered in tarps and stood on end. I estimated they climbed almost fifty feet into the air.
We split up and scoured the cave. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent it didn't contain the Amber Room or an exit.
"There's nothing here," Beverly said. "Let's go. We've got to get to that vault before Aaron shows up."
"Agreed. Come on, Dutch."
He didn't answer.
I looked around. "Dutch?"
Quickly, I swung my beam to the east. I saw Graham standing next to one of the cylinders. His hands grasped the tarp. He was pulling it with all his might.
I ran over to him. "We're going to the vault."
His muscles strained. "Just … another … second."
The tarp moved toward him. He reached up. Grabbed another handful of the tattered cloth. Pulled again. More tarp folded at his feet.
A loud explosion broke my concentration. My gaze tightened. There could be only one explanation for the noise. Jenner had blown a hole in the first door.
Graham gave the tarp one last heave. A wave ran through the cloth. It cracked like a whip. Then it floated into the air, forming a giant curtain.
Tiny folds appeared. The tarp drifted to the ground. But my eyes weren't watching it. They were locked on the once-hidden object.
It was shaped like a cigar and rested on some kind of pad. Four long tailfins poked out of the sides, equidistant from each other. Metal bars attached to small wheels jutted out from each fin, providing additional stability and flexibility. Thanks to its distance from the geothermal lake, it was surrounded by icy air. Thus, rust was almost nonexistent.
My eyes locked on the tailfins. The Werwolf symbol was emblazoned on each one. "Is that what I think it is?"
"It's a missile. A V-2 rocket to be specific." Graham frowned. "Only …"
"Only what?"
"Only there's something different about it."
"We can worry about it later."
I shoved Graham and ran after him. In the distance, I heard pounding footsteps. We picked up the pace. A second later, Graham and I sped through the door and back into the tunnel.
"What
took you so long?" Beverly hissed. "They'll be here any second."
"We were looking at rockets," Graham replied. "V-2 rockets."
"Rockets? Here?"
"I guess that explains how the Nazis intended to distribute the Großen Sterbens bacteria. They were going to shoot it down our goddamn throats."
Chapter 87
"I don't get it." My feet flew over the rock as I ran past the geothermal lake. "The V-2 was impressive for its time. But it was just a short-range ballistic missile. The Nazis would've been lucky if it reached the Ekström Ice Shelf."
"That's what I was trying to tell you," Graham wheezed. "It wasn't a standard V-2. It was modified."
The giant door grew larger as we approached it. It was wide open and about twice my height. On its right side, I noticed two linked boxes. On its left side, I saw a third box. A large wheel stuck out of its middle.
Graham pulled to a stop. "It looks like an old bank vault."
Electricity ran through me. I couldn't imagine a better place to store a valuable artifact like the Amber Room.
"Those little boxes on the back of the door are internal controls," Beverly replied. "That means it opens from the inside."
"It opens from the outside too."
"But it probably requires a combination. Otherwise, why build a vault in the first place?"
I heard a loud crash and glanced over my shoulder. The door on the opposite side of the lake burst open. Dark figures swept into the dimly lit cavern.
We ran into the vault. I reached for the wheel mounted on the giant door.
Bullets zinged in my direction.
I grabbed the wheel. Beverly did the same. We pulled. The vault door groaned. It started to close.
More gunfire spat at the air.
The door slammed shut. The sound of gunfire melted away. All I heard was silence. All I saw was darkness.
Graham turned on his beam and studied the boxes. Then he made some adjustments. The locking mechanism clicked. "There." His shoulders sagged. "That ought to do it."
"Are you sure they can't just open this thing?" I examined the boxes. "How does this work?"
"The two on the right are linked lock mechanism boxes. They connect to dual combination dials. The one on the left is a time lock."
