by Kim Wilkins
The hysteria in my voice alarmed Maryanne, who touched my hand with icy fingers. “What is it?” she asked.
Magnus peered at me suspiciously. “Victoria?”
“Magnus, can I talk to you?” I said, eyeing Maryanne’s trembling face. “In private.”
Magnus indicated that everyone else should go inside and slid the door closed behind us. The wind was gathering in power, rushing through the treetops and rattling over the observation deck. The air was thick with humidity and the smell of approaching rain.
“What is this all about?” he asked angrily.
“I sounded the lockdown alarm because I saw someone.”
“Someone? Who?”
“A stranger. A man.” I reached up to measure his imagined height. “With an axe. I don’t want to panic everyone, but I think we’re in extreme danger and need to stay locked down.”
Magnus ran his hand over his face and dislodged his glasses. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “First the satellite, then the generator. Now a murderer?” He straightened the frames and squeezed my upper arm. “We have to keep our wits, Victoria. Be an example for Maryanne.”
I nodded, my throat too dry to speak.
“Where did you see him and where did he go?”
“I saw him near the instrument enclosure, but then he disappeared back toward the fjord,” I lied. “He’s big and has a beard and looks really mean.”
“How on earth did he get to the island?” Magnus muttered to himself. “Come on, inside. We have work to do to secure the station.”
Seven faces waited anxiously for us by the light of a waterproof flashlight. Magnus held his hands up. “I want you all to be calm. It appears that there is someone on the island with us.”
Maryanne slumped into the sofa, her face white. A general murmur passed around the room, drowned out by a roll of thunder.
“Given that we don’t know who he is or what he intends, Victoria sounded the lockdown alarm.”
“Can’t we go out and look for him?” Carsten suggested.
“He may be armed and nobody here is qualified to be a hero. We’re scientists. We will do the rational thing. We are going into lockdown, then we will sit in here and wait out the storm.” Lightning flashed, momentarily drowning the room in thin blue light. “When daylight comes, we can reassess the situation. Until then, everybody stays inside. Now, let’s get to work.”
A weird semicalm followed as we made ourselves busy. The black panic that had inhabited me began to withdraw as I concentrated on small tasks: finding kerosene lamps, opening up the linen store for blankets and pillows, helping roll down the aluminum shutters that would protect the windows from the force of the storm, taking charge of arming the rec hall door. The wind’s roar intensified and the pines were howling beyond our cocoon of metal and carpet. The violent bang of thunder occasionally shuddered down on us, or lightning would flicker under the cracks of the shutters, but Magnus’s plea for us to remain rational was working. We got on with it, and half an hour later we were locked down and hiding in Kirkja Station.
I made an effort to convince myself that the storm was coincidental and not the work of vengeful Norse gods. Physical processes were usually responsible, no matter how extreme the weather. In this latitude, at this time of year, a strong thermal contrast between air masses could develop an intense weather system within hours. Yes, the knocking out of our electricity and communications seemed deliberate, but both were metal and targets for lightning.
The fear continued to bubble underneath. However, until the storm had passed, until morning had come, there wasn’t another thing I could do. For the moment, I was safe.
I took refuge for a few silent moments in the female toilets, splashing my face and leaning my sad, tired head against the mirror. My skin looked pale in the glow of the kerosene lamp, which rested on the bench. Where was Vidar? I was helpless. I could do so little here in the mortal world. I needed him to save me, to save all of us, if Odin was determined to repeat history. I had no other resources to draw on.
I slumped to the floor, pressing my hands into the cool tiles and letting helpless tears run down my face. I yearned for him, but I also yearned for life and light and safety. I didn’t want to die, but to live without him seemed empty.
The door banged open, making my blood jump. It was only Maryanne. She registered that I was crying and began to cry too.
“Oh, Vicky, what’s happening?” she pleaded, sinking to her knees next to me and clutching at my hands with damp fingers.
“It’s all right, Maryanne,” I said. “We’re safe in here.”
“How did somebody get on the island? It’s not a real man, is it? It’s a ghost or a demon.”
I hesitated too long before answering and her face crumpled.
“I should have gone months ago. When you first arrived. That’s when it all started happening. I’d only heard the ghosts once or twice before then, but something in you triggered it off.” Her words tumbled over each other. “Now it’s too late. They’re angry with us. He’s going to kill us, isn’t he? The demon? Is there more than one? You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
A gust buffeted the building, shaking the walls. The shriek of the wind in the trees was unearthly, like one of Maryanne’s demons wailing for revenge.
“Maryanne, hush,” I said firmly. “I’m frightened too. But we’re safe in here, and if you can stay calm until the storm has passed and daylight comes—”
“Then what? You know what comes after daylight? More night. More shadows for them to hide in and wait for us.”
My stomach hollowed. She was right. Odin wouldn’t simply disappear once the sun had risen, nor lose interest once a day or two had passed. He would hunt me until he found me and killed me.
“We might be able to get the satellite fixed and call for help,” I managed.
My fear ignited hers and she fell into helpless weeping.
“Come on, Maryanne,” I said, pulling myself to my feet and offering her a hand. “You must pull yourself together.”
“I don’t want to die,” she sobbed.
I reached down and helped her up. “You won’t.”
“What if he tries to get in?”
“He can’t,” I said forcefully. “Let me take you to find Magnus. He’ll make you feel better.”
I left Maryanne with Magnus and Gordon, and went in search of Gunnar. Alex and Josef had dossed down on the floor of the control room; Carsten and Frida had unlocked the old tearoom and were attempting to make hot cocoa with tap water. Gunnar had colonized a space under the stairs, filled it with blankets and pillows, and was reading a book by the light of a torch.
“Just like being a kid again,” he said as I slid down beside him.
“You’d better preserve the battery. Might be a while before we get the power back on,” I said, switching off his torch. The only light came from between the stairs, which formed bars of shadow across us. “Gunnar, can I ask you something? A hypothetical? Would you sacrifice yourself for the good of others?”
“That’s a tricky one. Do you mean would I die for a cause?”
“No, much more mundane. If people . . . friends of yours, were in danger . . .” I trailed off, unsure how to finish the question without giving away too much.
“Vicky?” he said.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid question.”
“I think that good people know the right thing to do at the right time,” he said. “Does that answer your stupid question?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“What’s this all about, Vicky?”
Hail had started pounding the roof, as though stones were being hurled down on us. “I’m frightened.”
“There’s no safer place to be in a storm than locked inside a weather station.”
“It’s not just the storm. Remember the missionaries? The extreme heat?”
“Yes.”
“It was thirty-two degrees before the storm started.”
“But there hasn’t been a frost. And the high temperature probably had something to do with the thermal movement.” He smiled at me. “Vicky, I had no idea that stuff had worked its way so far into your imagination.”
“It seems so real,” I said, but my voice was drowned out by thunder.
“It’s just a storm, Vicky,” he said.
“And an axe-murderer.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you really see an armed man?”
“Gunnar . . .” I turned on my side to examine his face in the dark. “No. But I’m almost certain he’s out there, and it’s too great a risk not to lock down.”
“Is it the man you wanted to smuggle off the island?” he asked.
“No.”
“But he’s got something to do with him?”
“Yes.” I held a finger to his mouth. “Don’t ask any more questions. I can’t answer them.”
“Yes, you can. You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.”
His gentle assurances disarmed me. I closed my eyes and said, “It’s such a mess, Gunnar. I don’t know where to start.”
“At the beginning.”
I weighed up my story in my mind, and tried to draw from it the important threads and separate them from the supernatural details which would have Gunnar thinking I’d lost my mind.
“I’ve met someone, Gunnar,” I said. “His name is Vidar and he’s been here on the island. I can’t tell you how he arrives and leaves, but he’s trying to escape from his family.”
I opened my eyes and Gunnar’s gaze was locked on mine.
“His father is here,” I said. “At least, I’m almost certain he is. I’ve seen the signs . . .” I laughed self-consciously. “It’s all a bit cryptic, isn’t it?”
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Gunnar said. “I can make sense of a lot of things you’ve said and done lately if it’s love.”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s love. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I know that you . . . you know . . .”
Gunnar sat up and hugged his knees. “It’s all right. I don’t love you, Victoria,” he said. “I thought it might be possible one day, that’s all. I’ve not known you that long, and I’ll miss you sorely when I go, but you haven’t broken my heart.”
“I’m glad.” I knew he was lying.
“Are you sure you can trust him? Vidar, I mean.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Your plan was to help him get off the island.”
“Yes, and take him where his family can’t find him anymore.”
“Are they really so bad?”
“His father is insane and violent. We’re all in danger.” I dropped my gaze. “But it’s me he wants.”
Suddenly, a bright torch beam was shined into my face from between the stairs.
“Is that right?” Magnus said. “Victoria, perhaps you’d better come out of there and explain yourself.”
Maryanne hovered by Magnus’s shoulder, glaring at me as though I’d betrayed her. I crawled out from under the stairs and opened my mouth to explain, but found no words for it. Gunnar was beside me. He reached for my hand, but I gently pushed it away. The others had gathered on the staircase to listen.
“You know this person?” Magnus demanded. “There’s a violent, insane man with an axe on the island with us, and you know him?”
“I don’t know him,” I blurted. “I know about him.”
“I heard you tell Gunnar you were going to smuggle him off the island.”
“No, that was somebody else.”
Maryanne’s voice rose to a shriek. “She said the demon wants her, not us. We’re safe if she leaves.”
Magnus’s voice took on an exasperated tone. “Maryanne, for the love of God, will you calm down. There’s no demon, and I’m not going to put Victoria outside in the storm. I just want to—”
His words were abruptly cut short by a frantic banging on the main door. Everyone froze, my knees shook.
“What was that?” Maryanne gasped.
“A branch hitting the door?” Carsten suggested.
The banging again, then a hideous bellow, half-animal half-human.
“What the hell?”
“It’s him,” I breathed, clutching at Gunnar’s sleeve, fear hot in my stomach.
Then, rhythmically and violently, a thud-thud-thud against the door.
“He’s trying to get in.”
Magnus shook his head. “It’s just a branch, Carsten’s right.”
“Magnus, didn’t you hear the—”
“It’s a branch!” Magnus screamed, and his face flushed deep red.
“There’s somebody out there.” Josef raced down the stairs and across the floor to the door.
“Don’t open it!” I screamed.
“Of course I’m not going to open it,” Josef said. “And neither can he get it open. It’s double-reinforced iron. I’m just going to take a look.” He indicated the spyhole in the door, then turned to peer through it. “There’s nothing there,” he said.
The relief in the room was palpable.
I hurried to the door and pushed Josef aside, pressing my eye to the spyhole. I saw a mad fish-eye view of the world outside, the swinging trees and the cabins all silent and drenched on the slab. My heart began to slow.
Then, glass smashing around the other side of the building. The office.
Maryanne screamed, “He’s going to kill us.”
“Stop it, Maryanne, stop it,” Magnus shouted. “He can break the windows, but the shutters will keep him out. The entire admin building is secured.”
A howl from the broken window. I peered around the corner, saw three meaty fingers hooked around the shutter, blood dripping from them.
“Láttu konuna fara út!” he shouted. He shook the shutter, it rattled but didn’t budge.
“What is he saying?” Alex asked over the din.
“Send out the woman,” Gunnar translated.
“Then send her out!” Maryanne shrieked.
“We’re not sending Vicky outside to confront a madman,” Josef said.
“Victoria, do you know this man?” Magnus demanded. “What have you done? Are we in danger? Why is he here?”
“Listen!” Alex said sharply.
We grew quiet and listened. The shutter rattled furiously. Behind it, nothing.
“The rain’s stopped,” Josef said.
The rattling ceased abruptly, a weird silence. Not only had the rain stopped, but the wind had died down and the thunder and lightning had ceased.
“That’s not possible,” Gordon said.
“Upstairs,” Josef said. “The observation deck.”
“Don’t open any doors,” Maryanne called.
“I’m not going to open the door,” Josef said irritably as he clattered up the stairs, Alex and Frida on his tail. “I’m going to pull the shutter.”
Smash.
Another window in the office. I jumped. My teeth hurt.
“Oh, God, oh, God,” I said.
“It’s all right, Vicky,” Gunnar said. “Magnus is right. We’re safe in here.”
The rattling started again, the incomprehensible shouting. I looked at Gunnar and he seemed very young and vulnerable.
“Magnus, you have to see this,” Josef called from upstairs.
Magnus and the others left; I followed, then paused at the top of the stairs.
Josef and Alex had manually rolled up the shutters on the glass doors to the observation deck. Above us, the clouds were dissolving. I could see stars.
“This is insane,” Gordon said. “The storm is melting into the sky.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Magnus gasped.
Frida’s nose was pressed against the glass. “What is that?” she asked. “Like a white shadow creeping across the grass.”
My shoulders tightened.
Magnus shielded his eyes and stared for a long time before turning and saying what I knew
he would say. “It’s frost.”
I folded my arms around my middle. “This can’t be happening,” I said, but nobody heard me, so baffled were they with the weather. I stole down the stairs, where the smashing and shouting continued. My stomach felt like water. I unlocked the door to the rec hall carefully, lifted the bar and slipped out.
The rec hall was cold and empty, and very silent without the fridges and freezers running. I stopped for a moment to gather my courage. Maryanne was right. Odin wanted me and, hopefully, once he got me, he would leave the others alone. I still held out hope that Vidar wasn’t far behind him, but I couldn’t allow Odin to beat down the door and slaughter everyone.
But to be so brave was almost impossible. I hesitated in the galley for nearly two minutes, then decided I had to move then, immediately. I steeled myself and opened the door to the outside world to meet my fate.
Thirty-One
The whole world had begun to freeze. The chill shimmered over me as I stood, peering into the darkness. The ground was carpeted with frost and the raindrops on branches had solidified to silver. Silence upon silence, so eerie after the bang and clatter of the storm. Then, the faint groan and creak of the ice contracting.
A shadow at the main entrance. Odin.
Electricity shot to my heart and I started to run toward the forest. Gunnar had called it a good place to hide, and Vidar had proven it. Perhaps I could elude him long enough for Vidar to arrive. My heart thundered in my ears, but I could hear the monster behind me, roaring in his strange ancient language. I had a hundred feet on him and plunged into the dark of the trees before he could catch up. I pressed myself against a tree trunk and tried to stop my body from trembling to pieces.
It simply isn’t possible to escape him.
The searing realization nearly knocked me to my knees. In that instant, waiting for him to find me, I didn’t know whether to run, to hide, or to give up. I hated every option, and I could hear his footfalls drawing closer.
A cold hand clamped around my ankle and I gasped, then was pulled to the forest floor. I found myself staring at Skripi. He dragged me behind a fallen log, finger to his lips to indicate I should be silent. My hands were cut by broken twigs and my clothes were soaked and freezing. Violent shudders shook me. Odin drew closer. I shrank back against Skripi and wished he was more than a scrawny wood wight. My pulse pounded in my head. He moved into sight, a bare three feet away, huge and powerful as a bear, his features hidden in shadow.
