Abandoned: Bitter Harvest, Book Three

by Ann Gimpel

  A murmur of assents swept through the room.

  Etta stood straighter and clasped her fingers in front of her. “Before I begin, I speak for all of us at McMurdo when I offer our heartfelt thanks for destroying the serpent. I never understood quite how, but the creature had to be sentient. It saw through every one of our attempts to stymie its raids on our people.”

  A huge sigh rattled from her chest. “I still cannot quite believe it is gone. It was far worse than the atmospheric storm track that trapped us here for so many years.”

  Zoe stood off to one side. Catching Ketha’s eye, she raised one brow and employed telepathy. “Should we tell her what it was?”

  “Not yet. Let’s wait to see how this shakes out,” Ketha replied. “If they want to throw in their lot with us, we’ll have to tell them we’re Shifters. If they’d rather remain at McMurdo, no reason to disclose more than we have to.”

  Aura sent a pointed glance at both of them and shook her head, the gesture barely there.

  “Permission to speak?” A man sitting toward the rear of the room pushed his chair back and stood. He wore the same one-piece, insulated suit as the doctor. Medium height, he had thinning brown hair, dark eyes, and a fireplug build.

  Etta crooked two fingers at him. “You do not require my permission, Ron. I am greatly relieved whatever had you in its clutches let you go. I suppose it had something to do with the deuced serpent. You are free, and it is gone. This cannot be a coincidence.”

  “I’m not quite sure what happened.” Ron screwed his gaunt features into a frown. “It’s like I’ve been asleep for a really long time. Can’t remember anything. Neither can the rest of us in those two outboards chasing after you.” He looked down. “No one was more surprised than us when we...”

  His voice ran down and he tried again. “Last thing any of us remember is being herded into one of the storage buildings, but it feels like it happened a really long time ago. Maybe years. My mind didn’t click on again until we were in the bay, heading for this ship.” He scrubbed the heels of his hands down his face, distorting his features. “I conferred with the others, and we all had a similar experience, with a few minor variations, none of which appear significant. They agreed I should be our spokesperson.”

  “It will be all right.” Etta smiled with more warmth than Zoe would have suspected her capable of. “I knew all of you had returned from wherever you’d been, or I’d never have let you onto this ship.”

  “I don’t get it,” Ron stared at her. “How’d you know?”

  She shrugged. “You felt human again. Not like something out of The Walking Dead.”

  “Mmph. Thanks. I think.” Ron tipped his head at the doctor and sank into his seat.

  Etta rolled her shoulders back. “I will not bother to describe the vicious storms that pinned us here. From what your captain told me”—she glanced at Viktor—“you experienced the same weather phenomenon in Ushuaia. We lost several hundred researchers during the first two years, mostly because they insisted on leaving. I suspect they died before reaching safety, but I have no way to verify anything. None of them ever returned. Aside from their ill-conceived exodus, we were fine for many years. Maybe half a dozen, and we would have continued to survive adequately. We have a greenhouse, full desalinization equipment, everything we required to be self-sufficient.”

  “How are your stocks presently?” Viktor asked.

  “We have enough. It was never a major problem.” Etta pressed her mouth into a harsh line. “The serpent arrived one day, swimming merrily as you please into the bay. Its presence was noteworthy since most sea creatures, certainly ones of its size, had died off, leaving only krill and such. Small marine life with rapid metabolisms.”

  She scrunched her features into a thoughtful expression. “At first, the sea serpent was sneaky. We began losing men and women. One here. Another there. I made a mistake back then. A big one. I assumed the enforced isolation had rattled their sanity, and they’d marched off into the cold to die. It is an easy death, and a relatively quick one. By then, most of us were certain we would never leave McMurdo. Some adjusted more easily than others.”

  Etta returned to where she’d been sitting and scooped up her glass, taking a deep swallow. “Over time, the serpent grew bold. When one of the nurses shook me awake early one morning with the news over two dozen of us were missing, I knew I had to adopt drastic measures.”

  “What happened to Jack DeVoe?” Juan asked. “He was your base commander, wasn’t he?”

  Etta nodded slowly. “Indeed he was. A good man and a most excellent friend. He was one of the two dozen shanghaied. I had no idea what happened to any of them until today.”

  Zoe did some quick calculations. There’d only been twelve people in the outboards chasing after the one with Etta in it, which meant the dragon had done away with the others.

  “It tortured and killed them,” her coyote growled. “Kept them alive, feeding off them as long as it could. You know. You were joined to its mind long enough to see.”

  Zoe did know, and the imagery filled her with fury the dragon’s death hadn’t been more drawn out and painful.

  Etta’s gaze tracked through the McMurdo folk. “Do any of you know what happened to Jack?”

  “Wish we did,” a slightly built blonde woman said. Like the others, she wore what appeared to be a regulation-issue beige flight suit. “I have no memory of anything until I woke up in the outboard dinghy today, and frankly it’s damned unnerving.”

  Zoe opened her mouth to tell the woman to pick up the threads of her life and move on. It wasn’t her place to butt in. Those were memories best left under wraps, though. She hoped to hell this motley band of survivors never picked enough scabs off their minds to open a channel for those lost years to surface.

  Etta tilted her chin at a resolute angle. “Not much more to tell. We barricaded ourselves into the two primary buildings. No one went anywhere alone. It was nerve-racking, but we lived that way for a long time. When we picked up radio transmissions from your ship, I was certain it was some trick. I presumed the serpent had found a way to force one of the missing people to dupe us, draw us out into the open.”

  A tall, redheaded man sitting in the middle of the dining room pushed to his feet. “I’m John. John Anderson. Etta told us not to answer the radio. I’m not certain why I did. It’s why I pretended not to recognize Jack’s name. Figured the less I said, the better.” He laced his fingers together in front of him. “I wanted you to be real, not some stupid hallucination, with such desperation it was all I could think about. After a while, you kind of lose track of what’s tangible and what isn’t, and it’s not a good place to be stuck.”

  Color crept up Etta’s pale cheeks. “I gave him hell for insubordination, but I grilled him too. The conversation he’d had with Arkady appeared normal enough, I took a chance and rang you back to request aid. We had held the serpent off for a long time. Sooner or later one of us would make a mistake...”

  She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t have to. Zoe’s heart went out to all of them. What a strong, courageous bunch of men and women. Tears pricked behind her eyelids; she blinked them back.

  “Thank you.” Viktor stood and walked to her side. “I’m guessing you number twenty-two or thereabouts.”

  Etta nodded. “Yes.”

  Zoe was grateful Viktor didn’t inquire how many they’d started with.

  “Do you still want to join us on Arkady?”

  “It is not my decision.” Etta spoke slowly. “I need to confer with everyone. Since we no longer have to creep around fearing for our lives, I would rather remain at McMurdo Station. It has been my home for almost twenty years. Still, not everyone will feel the same way. At least I do not believe they will.”

  “Take whatever time you need,” Viktor said.

  “We shall have an answer for you by midday tomorrow,” Etta said and gestured to the others. They stood and moved toward the dining room doors amid a chorus of thank
-yous.

  Viktor extended a hand, and Etta clasped it. “We owe you a lot.”

  “Nonsense. You would have helped us if the situation were reversed.”

  “Ja, I would have.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re German. From Heidelberg?”

  Viktor grinned. “Yup. Damned accent gives me away, but only to another German. Berlin, correct?”

  Etta smiled. “Right, but so long ago the memory grows dim. Once upon a time, I thought I might like to visit some of my old haunts. It isn’t likely to happen. Not the end of the world if I never return there.” She switched to German, and she and Viktor walked out of the dining room, chattering away.”

  Zoe straightened from where she’d been leaning against a wall. The day had more than caught up with her, and she felt like sleeping for hours.

  Recco joined her. “How’re you holding up?”

  Zoe focused on him. A purple-and-green bruise covered one cheek, and a line of stitches held a long gash over one eyebrow closed. What other damage had he sustained protecting her after her spell slipped away from her control?

  “I could ask you the same question,” she retorted. “The maneuver you and Juan finessed earlier was incredibly stupid. You risked yourselves in ways you didn’t even realize. Things could have gone so much worse.” Her voice had risen in intensity, and she tempered it, but she was upset. If he’d lost his life during his Sir Galahad act, she’d have had a damned hard time living with herself.

  He drew back as if she’d slapped him. “You’re lecturing me for saving you from falling into the dragon’s clutches?” Before she could respond, he plowed on. “You’re the one who miscalculated, Miss Magic Expert. If you hadn’t, Juan and I wouldn’t have been forced to jump in and save you from your folly.” He narrowed his eyes. “Two sides to every story.”

  Heated words crowded into the back of her throat. Telling him he was an arrogant prick wouldn’t help. She shoved away from the wall and stalked out of the dining room before she said something she truly regretted.

  “That was ill-conceived,” her coyote said, not bothering to mask its annoyance.

  “Stuff it. I’ve had all the lectures I care to hear for one night.”

  She headed straight for her cabin, intent on barricading herself in before she burst into tears. Last thing she needed was any of the women cooing over her or Karin mixing her a tonic for nerves.

  What she needed was Recco, and she’d just pushed him away with both hands. Or maybe he’d never been as interested in her as she thought. He’d been damned quick to jump down her throat.

  Yeah, right after I told him he was stupid.

  Zoe groaned and dragged herself into her cabin, kicking off her boots once she was inside. Not bothering with the lights, she dove into her bunk and yanked the blanket over her head. In addition to the battered places from the dragon’s onslaught, her heart felt empty. She tried to tell herself it was impossible to lose something she’d never had to begin with. The dull ache behind her breastbone didn’t cede to reason and go away, though.

  She might have been exhausted and heartsick, but hours passed before her racing thoughts stilled enough for her to fall asleep.

  Chapter Twelve: It’s a Toss-up

  Recco watched Zoe march out of the dining room. How dare she bitch him out for what he’d done and then walk away? Maybe it hadn’t been the most elegant move, but everyone was still alive. So, his half-baked scheme, concocted on the fly with Juan, had worked, goddammit.

  Startlingly well from his perspective. Why the hell couldn’t she see—or appreciate—it? Or him?

  Anger simmered, flaring to painful brightness when Juan and Aura strolled by, arms wrapped around one another. She might not have been part of today’s confrontation, but she appreciated Juan, was grateful he was still alive. It showed in the way she leaned into him.

  Before a few minutes ago, Recco thought Zoe cared about him. Obviously, he’d read the signs all wrong.

  “Looking pretty bleak there, amigo.” Daide joined him. “What’s wrong? Are those sutures hurting?”

  Wouldn’t it be lovely if it were so simple?

  Recco gritted his teeth. “They’re okay. You did a good job.”

  “Quite a story from the McMurdo staff, eh?”

  “No shit.” Recco dragged his thoughts out of the drain they’d been circling around, surprised it was so difficult. “Poor sods. It’s a wonder any of them have a scrap of sanity left.”

  Daide was still regarding him intently. “Maybe you should lie down for a while.”

  “For Christ’s fucking sake. I’m not one of your patients.”

  “Really?” Daide narrowed his eyes. “Not so many differences. They didn’t talk to me, either.”

  “Where you off to next?” Recco changed the subject. No point falling farther down that particular rabbit hole.

  Daide shrugged. “Not sure. It’s a tossup between the lab or the bar.”

  “I vote for the bar. In fact, I’ll see you up there.”

  Without waiting for Daide to tell him alcohol was a really bad idea after any kind of head injury, Recco hurried out of the dining room and up the nearest staircase. His head hurt, and his skin still felt raw, but he’d live. He didn’t hear the distinctive tread of Daide’s boots behind him. Relief mingled with disappointment in a puzzling shitstorm of emotions.

  On the one hand, he didn’t want Daide probing. On the other, spilling his pain and confusion might help square things so he could occupy the same space with Zoe. Arkady wasn’t particularly large. No matter how he choreographed his shipboard life, he was bound to run into her.

  He strode into the empty bar, crossing to where the liquor lived in slatted shelves, and picked up several bottles of wine before settling on blended whiskey. He wanted oblivion as fast as he could manage it. Wine didn’t have enough alcohol content. He’d poured a tumbler half-full of fragrant, amber liquid when a thought blasted him. He didn’t have to remain on Arkady. Assuming some of the McMurdo group opted to remain at the base, he could stay there. Surely, with the resurgence of marine life, they could use a veterinarian. Never mind Daide was the one who’d specialized in marine mammals and birds.

  He rolled the idea around as whiskey slid down his gullet, creating a warm glow in his midsection. The only real downside was leaving Daide. They’d been friends and partners for a long time. Guilt flickered. Viktor and Juan had been nothing but kind, and they’d invested time and energy training him to be a crew member. The infusion of new blood from McMurdo would give them plenty of raw material to shape to their liking.

  Recco stared at his empty glass. He hadn’t even sat down, and he’d finished the generous drink he’d poured. The whiskey hadn’t hit him yet, so he poured another tumbler and made his way to a table. The thought of leaving was heady. A new adventure. He’d visited McMurdo twice and been impressed by the sophistication of their lab equipment and the array of talent stationed there.

  “Won’t be anything like that now,” he muttered. “Most of them are dead.”

  All the more reason he could do some good. If communications ever resurfaced worldwide, they’d have a way to report their findings. Effects of the Cataclysm on pinnipeds and—

  “A man should never drink alone,” Daide announced. After transiting the bar, he slid into a chair across the table from Recco.

  “Jesus. You’re worse than a wife,” Recco mumbled.

  Daide cast another speculative look his way. “Don’t know about the wife part. We managed to remain friends through ten years of being Vampires. Surely, it counts for something since Vamps don’t form friendships.”

  “We didn’t have to form one. It was already there.”

  “Yeah, but we could have let it die. We didn’t,” Daide said.

  “You’re relentless. What the fuck do you want?”

  “Told you down in the dining room. Something’s eating at you. What is it?”

  Recco splayed his hands across the table. Cuts and bruises covered th
e backs of both. “What are you worried about?” He tossed the ball back at Daide.

  “I’m concerned you’re dealing with some residual magic from the sea dragon. Something I missed when I worked you over for injuries.”

  Daide looked so sincere, and so worried, Recco pushed his half-empty glass aside. “Can’t even let me get drunk, huh?”

  “No. Not if being drunk means some leftover bits of dark power gain ascendency. Goddammit, Recco. None of us understand how this magic crap operates. I work with what I can see and fix, not with invisible manifestations of evil.”

  Recco sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, and did it once more. No reason not to float his McMurdo idea. It was a hell of a lot easier than talking about Zoe. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

  Daide furled a brow. “You’ll have to say more, amigo. My mind-reading skills are rusty.”

  “And here I thought you were the original animal whisperer.”

  Daide crooked two fingers. “All right. If leftover magic isn’t in play, your sarcasm clinched things. You’re using your rapier-sharp wit to avoid talking about something. What is it?”

  “No wonder you’re not married. You’d have driven your wife into an early grave.”

  “And now you’re doing it again. I know you. Don’t make me drag whatever this is out of you.”

  Recco looked his old friend square in the eyes. “I’m considering staying here.”

  Daide’s mouth dropped open. “Of all the things running through my mind, that is about the last possibility. Here? As in at McMurdo?”

  “Why not? You and I visited there. They had vets on staff.” Recco batted back defensiveness. It was a pretty outrageous idea. Besides, he might not be welcome at the research base even if a few scientists opted to remain.

  “We did, except it was mostly you coming along for the ride. Since when did you develop an interest in seals and penguins?”