Horror Sci-Fi Box Set: Three Novels

by Bryan Dunn

  Harry jumped up. He was so elated to be alive he yelled out, “All right! Way to go, Nowhere!”

  Then he watched as Nowhere Man threw the Black Hawk into a hard banking turn for another pass.

  Inside the cockpit Amy twisted and cranked her head around trying to get a look at Harry to see if he was alright.

  “Can you see him?” Nowhere Man asked, too busy with the controls to look himself. “Is Harry okay?”

  “Yes, I can see him. He’s okay.” Then after a silent beat she added, “But it’s still coming after him…”

  The creature was already on its feet and moving fast up the slope. A dull guttural grunting issued up the ice, filling Harry’s ears.

  Shit.

  He tried the rifle again. Nothing. He banged on the barrel, trying to free the jam, but it was no good. It was obvious the goddamn thing resented being used as an ice axe.

  Harry looked down the slope, and the words, “Fuck me,” flashed through his mind. The creature was now literally leaping up the ice towards him. He scanned the sky and saw that the Black Hawk was lining up for another pass, but Nowhere Man wasn’t going to make it in time – the son of a bitch was coming on too fast.

  Shit.

  Harry turned and stared down at the five hundred foot drop.

  Shit.

  He glanced back, the smell of the creature’s fetid breath filled his nose, and –

  He yelled, “Oh, shit!”

  And on “shit” he jumped off the ridge, twisted in mid-air, jammed the barrel of the rifle into the ice wall, and began spilling down the steep slope.

  The rifle bit into the ice, breaking his speed, and he banged and scraped his way down for three hundred feet until the rifle was ripped out of his hands. Then he pitched backwards, pinwheeling the rest of the way down the slope.

  The creature tried to follow, slipped, then hauled itself back up to the top of the ridge. It scrambled back down the other side to retrieve the harpoon.

  Harry hit the bottom of the slope and tumbled across the ice, finally skidding to a stop on his back, winded and torn and battered, but still alive!

  He rose to a sitting position and checked his arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken. He stretched his neck and flexed his fingers – and declared himself to be a total wreck, but still in the game. He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off, still a little stunned from his toboggan ride down the slope.

  Inside the Black Hawk, Amy strained forward and spotted Harry standing at the base of the ice ridge. “There!” Amy said pointing. “There he is. He looks like he’s okay.”

  “Got him,” Nowhere Man said, then put the helicopter into a hard turn to bring them into a hover directly above Harry.

  Back on the ice, Harry looked up as the thwack, thwack, thwack of the Black Hawk filled his ears – beautiful music, he thought – and then he was blasted by the chopper’s rotor wash.

  “Sergeant, lower the harness down to Harry and let me know when he’s safely hooked up,” Nowhere Man ordered, leaning into the crew compartment.

  “I’m on it, sir.”

  Sloan swung the cable out of the door, turned on the hoist, and payed out the cable toward Harry.

  The cable dropped right at Harry’s feet, and if there was a World Record for getting into a harness, Harry broke it. After he had secured and doubled checked the harness, Harry looked up at Sloan and flashed a thumbs up.

  “He’s good to go,” Sloan reported to Nowhere Man. “I’m bringing him up now.”

  “Roger that,” Nowhere acknowledged.

  The inside of the helicopter filled with the whine of the hoist as it lifted Harry off the ice.

  Up front in the cockpit, Nowhere Man was fully occupied trying to keep the chopper steady in a building wind. He worked the pedals, increasing and decreasing the throttle as needed. The helicopter was turning in a slow pivot and as it came around 180 degrees, Nowhere Man blurted:

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Through the windshield, he and Amy were suddenly looking directly at the creature. It stood on top of the ice ridge – at about the same altitude as the chopper – and couldn’t have been more than forty yards away.

  The creature let go with a bone-chilling scream, locked its eyes onto the hovering helicopter, raised the harpoon, drew its arm back, and –

  Nowhere Man and Amy watched with complete incredulity as the creature launched the harpoon. They followed it as it sailed skyward and for a silent, terror-filled beat, it seemed to hang in the air directly in front of their eyes.

  The harpoon smashed into the windshield. Glass exploded inwards. The togglehead tip slammed directly into Nowhere Man’s chest – pinning him to the seat and killing him instantly.

  Amy was stunned and too paralyzed with shock to move or speak or scream.

  The Black Hawk spun out of control. A claxon sounded, warning of an impending stall.

  Outside, Harry was thrown through the air, helplessly dangling below the out-of-control helicopter.

  The Black Hawk made a crazy series of maneuvers, then angled towards base camp and the edge of the iceberg.

  As the helicopter lost altitude, Harry found himself on the crack-the-whip ride of his life. He was plunged to the ice, then just as suddenly jerked back into the air. And then he was back on the ice again. He tried to work his legs, but only made brief contact with the ice before he was sweeping skyward again. A stomach-rolling beat later, and he slammed back into the iceberg, clipping a ridge of snow and went tumbling across the ice…

  Then the cable went tight again and he was suddenly cutting sideways, blipping up and down with each snap of the line.

  The Black Hawk did a 360. The helicopter slewed, and seemed to wobble in mid-air. The nose rose into a dead man’s stall.

  Then it dropped to the ice tail first.

  The rotor boom collapsed like an accordion, and the cabin slammed into the iceberg. As the rotor blades smashed and splintered against the rock-hard ice, the crumpled body skidded across the slick surface, finally coming to rest half-on and half- off the iceberg.

  It teetered, seesawing back and forth, and then with one last metallic groan, it miraculously defied gravity and stayed stuck on the lip.

  A hundred feet behind the ruined Black Hawk, still tethered to the lift cable, Harry skidded to a halt, rolling onto his stomach and sliding across the ice for a final time.

  For a long silent beat he just lay there, face down on the ice, not moving. Then he began to cough. One arm moved and then the other, and he pushed himself up off the ice. Somehow he was still alive after having been raked across the ice behind an out-of- control Black Hawk helicopter.

  Harry staggered to his feet, dusted himself off, and checked his head to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. Then he stared dumbfounded at the smashed helicopter hanging off the edge of the iceberg.

  He reached down, yanked on the cable that was clipped to his harness, and said, “Bungee-fucking-jumping.”

  He kept yanking on the cable to get it to release, but it was stuck. The quick-release coupler had been damaged as he was dragged across the ice. He gave it one last jerk, but it was obviously jammed.

  Shit.

  Then from inside the crumpled fuselage he heard a woman’s voice. It was Amy calling for help.

  He yanked at the harness again, but it held fast. Ignoring it, he took off limping toward the helicopter.

  The inside of the Black Hawk was total chaos. The windshield was spray painted red with Nowhere Man’s blood. Amy, still in her seat, popped her shoulder harness and clawed her way out of the cockpit, not able to look at Nowhere Man’s impaled body.

  As she crawled back into the crew compartment, she heard a low moaning coming from beneath a pile of equipment.

  “Sergeant Sloan, are you okay?” Amy asked.

  “No, ma’am,” he groaned. “It’s my leg. I think it’s broken. It feels like it’s trapped against the bulkhead.”

  “Hang on, sergeant,” Amy said, making her way
over to him. “I’m going to try and free you.”

  Amy removed the loose debris that was covering Sloan’s body, then positioned herself to have a look at his trapped leg – and drew in a sharp breath when she saw what was wrong.

  A metal pipe had been driven clear through his right thigh, pinning him to the helicopter’s floor.

  “It’s bad, sergeant,” Amy said. “Hold on, I’m going to try and free your leg.”

  She gritted her teeth, placed a hand on each side of his leg and gently lifted up to see if the leg would move. Sergeant Sloan screamed out in pain as blood pooled beneath his leg– and then he went into shock.

  Amy placed a hand on his neck and felt a weak pulse. “Sloan! Sergeant Sloan –” she yelled, trying to wake him – but it was useless, he’d lost consciousness.

  “My God,” Amy said, looking out the cargo door and seeing Harry. She lurched across the floor and tried to pull the door open, but it was just another piece of twisted wreckage now. As she tried to get out through the cockpit, Harry knocked a jagged bit of glass loose from the shattered window and leaned into the helicopter.

  “Thank God,” Amy cried out. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”

  “It’s good to hear someone confirm that – because about five minutes ago, I would’ve sworn I was dead… How about you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m in one piece, anyway,” Amy said. Then she pointed to Sloan. “Sergeant Sloan is unconscious and pinned to the floor, and…” Amy stopped and glanced forward to the cockpit. “And Nowhere Man is dead.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Harry said.

  “Harry, it was awful. The harpoon… It went right through his chest.”

  Harry nodded and reached a hand through the window. “C’mon, take my hand;

  you can get out through the window. Then I’ll switch with you and see what I can do about freeing Sloan – but be careful, this thing looks like it could slip off the ice at any time.”

  Amy took Harry’s hand and cautiously climbed through the window. As she stepped onto the ice, there was a loud, metallic creaking and the helicopter shifted, inching closer to the edge, but then seemed to hold.

  “Something’s wrong with my harness,” Harry said, holding up the coupling device. “It won’t release. See if you can tell what’s wrong.”

  Amy bent to take a look at the harness.

  There was a horrible groaning sound. Then the sound of buckling aluminum.

  And after a terror-filled moment…

  The entire helicopter shuddered, slipped sideways – and fell off the iceberg, plunging into the sea.

  Neither of them spoke. Then a scraping sound filled the air – and whipping across the ice and disappearing over the edge of the iceberg was the remainder of the lift cable.

  “Shit!” Harry said. And before he had a chance to react, he was yanked off his feet and skittering across the ice right behind the sinking helicopter.

  “Harry!” Amy screamed.

  She could only stand there helplessly watching as Harry’s body shot off the edge of the iceberg and was pulled beneath the ocean’s surface.

  “No!” she cried out, then rushed to the edge of the ice and looked down at the dead green water.

  She kept staring at the surface, hoping for some sign of Harry, but he was gone so suddenly, and with such finality, that all she could do was sob. The sobbing turned into streaming tears as she began to cry, not wanting to believe any of this had happened.

  She continued to stare down at the ocean, thinking it a dark and cruel thing – when all of a sudden a giant bubble of air exploded on the surface. A moment later, Harry shot up gasping for air.

  “Harry! You’re alive!” Amy screamed with delight.

  “I’m goddamn freezing!” Harry yelled, then swam to a ledge of ice and began to claw his way up the side of the iceberg.

  Amy scrambled to the edge. Leaning over as far as she dared, she got ahold of Harry’s hand, and working together, they hauled him out of the water and onto the ice.

  His body shook uncontrollably from exposure. Amy wrapped her arms around him, trying to stop him from shaking.

  “It-It’s official,” Harry managed through his jitterbugging teeth, “I hate helicopters.”

  “How did you release the cable?”

  “I didn’t. I’m not sure what happened. Maybe the pressure… It must’ve just let go.”

  Suddenly there was another explosive bubble of air. Both of their heads snapped towards the sea, and they saw a large, white cylinder shoot up and bob on the ocean’s surface.

  “C’mon,” Harry yelled, jumping up. “We’ve got to get that.”

  “What for?”

  “It’s a life raft!”

  They scrambled down the ice to the water’s edge and managed to retrieve the raft, dragging it up the side of the iceberg.

  Chapter 40

  The weather was starting to close in around the iceberg. The wind was blowing a steady twenty knots across building seas, knocking the tops off the waves and sending ghostly white spindrifts scudding across the leaden horizon.

  Outside base camp, Harry and Amy cautiously approached the perimeter, staying alert for any signs that the creature might have returned.

  Harry scanned the camp, working his eyes around each tent. “Looks clear. I don’t see any signs of that thing.”

  Amy searched the camp, anxiously looking left then right for any signs of movement. “Yeah, it seems okay.”

  But both of them were thinking the same thing: It could be in one of the tents – waiting, ready to spring out as soon as they were in reach.

  Harry looked up, checking the weather. “A few more hours and we’re going to be in the middle of an arctic storm.”

  Amy looked at the approaching front. “Great,” she said flatly.

  Harry’s body was suddenly racked by a fresh series of violent shakes, his wet clothes sticking to him like sheets of ice.

  “I don’t care where that thing is, I’ve got to get some dry clothes.”

  Together they moved forward, stepping past piles of ruined equipment – and entered base camp.

  Harry made a beeline toward his tent, desperate to strip off the wet clothes, then stopped and called to Amy, “We need to gather food and water, and if you see a radio, grab it – and anything else you can think of.”

  Inside his tent, Harry quickly changed into dry pants and a thick down parka. His relief was immediate and he sighed out loud as his body temperature began to rise. His boots were still wet, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He mopped out the insides as well as possible, then put on two pairs of wool socks and slipped the boots back on, lacing them tightly to hold in the heat.

  He rifled through his gear searching for something, then found what he was looking for stuffed beneath his cot. It was a bright orange survival suit, the kind sailors don when they have to abandon ship in freezing waters. Living and working in the Arctic, Harry never went to sea without it. He folded it in thirds, then pushed it into a nylon stuff sack.

  On the floor of the tent next to the door was a bag filled with plastic water bottles. He grabbed the bag, placed it on his cot, then dumped in a handful of Power Bars he had brought along in case of an emergency – the current situation qualifying big-time.

  He stuffed the water, Power Bars and survival suit into a rucksack, slung it on his shoulder, then exited to go search the other tents for supplies, and in particular, a radio.

  Amy entered the destroyed field lab, immediately went over to a work bench, and retrieved her laptop, closing it and carefully stowing it in a backpack.

  Crunching across smashed glass and busted equipment, she went to a medical locker and began to fill the backpack with anything that looked useful: bandages, a small pack of surgical instruments, syringes, suture kit, morphine, rubber gloves.

  She then crossed the tent and bent down to a plastic cooler, propped the lid open, and carefully removed a specimen bag filled with the creature’s blood.
She took a soft towel, wrapped it around the bag, then carefully placed it in the backpack next to the laptop.

  She straightened, then looked around the tent, still stunned by the amount of destruction that had been wreaked on the lab – then remembered that Harry had told her to look for a radio. They had kept one next to the door on a small folding chair.

  Amy moved towards the front of the tent, hoping to find the radio. There was no chair or radio to be found – and no door for that matter. Half of the tent had been ripped away by the creature. She carefully picked her way through a jumble of debris – and there, all the way at the other side of the tent, was the small hand-held radio.

  She jumped forward and, as she swept it off the floor, the back fell away trailing wires and bits of broken circuitry. Amy released the radio and let it fall to the tent floor, watching it land in a lifeless pile of broken plastic. Shit.

  Amy took a last look around the lab, marveling at the carnage, and decided there was nothing else worth retrieving right now. They would be back. They had to come back.

  Amy adjusted the straps on her pack, stepped out of the tent, and as she looked up to find Harry, there it was – the creature, about fifty yards off in the distance moving directly toward base camp!

  “Harry!” she yelled. “Harry, it’s back! The creature… it’s coming!”

  Harry shot out of his tent with the rucksack clamped under his arm, saw Amy, and off in the distance – the approaching creature.

  They watched as the creature suddenly altered direction, angled toward something sitting on the ice, stopped directly in front of it, reached down – and lifted one of Lt. Cushman’s arms. With a nauseating wet crunching twist, he wrenched the arm free from the body, separating it cleanly at the shoulder joint.

  With Lt. Cushman’s arm dangling at his side, the creature turned, faced Harry and Amy, screamed its horrible scream – then raised the limb to its mouth and began to tear away strips of flesh.

  Amy ran to Harry, too horrified to watch. Harry put his arm around her, then whispered softly. “Sweet Jesus, that’s Cush…”

  “I can’t believe this, Harry… It’s horrible. God.” She trembled and turned away, burying her face in Harry’s parka.