The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)

His smile fades some and I know the answer to my question. He thinks I am different. More so than makes any sense. “Why?” I ask, but then think, because he knows—he was there when I was born.

“There is so much about Antarctica we don’t know,” he says. “The vast majority of the continent, which is the size of the United States, is buried beneath the ice. What little is exposed has been all but scoured clean by the katabatic winds.”

Katabatic winds are created when gravity pulls dense air down a slope from higher elevations. Since Antarctica is essentially a big mound of snow, this is commonplace. The winds can reach speeds faster than any hurricane and a few of the people who have been lost on the continent disappeared into a cloud of rushing snow carried by the winds. Just one of the many dangers the continent offers visitors.

Hello and welcome to Antarctica, I think, try not to get killed!

“But we know people visited Antarctica, even lived on Antarctica, more than six thousand years ago.”

“The Piri Reis map,” I say.

He nods, growing excited. “Not only does the map show animals reminiscent of cattle and mink, it also shows other strange creatures and odd looking primates. Even a wall of some kind.”

“I’ve often wondered if those were just embellishments by the artist,” I admit.

“That is a possibility,” he says, “but I highly doubt it. The map’s details are better than any modern map, and it depicts the coast of an Antarctica free of ice. Given its geographic accuracy and the fact that the continent would have had to be ice free at the time, there is no reason to doubt that the land was populated. The map itself proves that ancient humans visited the continent.”

“Makes sense,” I say. “But that doesn’t make me any different.”

“You might change your mind when we get there,” he says. “There’s something magical about the place. And I think a little bit of that magic was instilled in you when you were born.”

Magic? I can’t believe a man like Merrill Clark would buy into such things. I can’t stop myself from asking. “You don’t believe in magic do you?”

“Not in the sense you’re thinking,” Dr. Clark says. “Not the hocus pocus, bunny-in-the-hat kind. I do believe in the supernatural. In God. But that’s not what I’m talking about either. It’s hard to describe. What I do know is that something truly strange happened when you were born. Something that still excites me when I think about it. Perhaps we’ll understand the science behind it someday, but—”

“You think it will happen again when I go back, don’t you?” I ask.

“Can’t say I haven’t considered the possibility. But you were on the continent for several weeks before it was safe to move you. The event never repeated itself, though the storm that eventually buried the station didn’t let up for years.”

His eyes drift to the seat in front of him. I can tell he’s remembering something. He snaps out of his thoughts and says, “The truth is, I hope nothing happens when you set foot on Antarctica.”

Like becoming overwhelmed by negative emotions and going on a killing spree, I think, but then I force the concern from my mind. This is the moment I have been waiting for. Clark knows everything my parents have hid from me. His memory is the safe I need to crack. “What happened?” I ask.

“You’ve heard, I’m sure. About the howling.”

I nod, but the look in my eyes betrays how little I actually know. I heard about the howling on two occasions, both at gatherings my parents hosted, from people whose memories of the past were diluted by alcohol at the time.

He chuckles. “Have they really not told you yet?”

My anger at my parents’ silence increases and my voice oozes frustration. “Dad says the only howling was my mother.”

He looks down the aisle in both directions and then leans in close. He’s clearly about to tell me something my parents wouldn’t want me to know. When he speaks, his eyes are wide and his voice is animated. “Well, I’m sure that’s all he could hear, but the rest of us...it was like a Viking war horn sounding from all around. I felt terrified when I heard it. Then the wind came. Tore the roof away from one of the research buildings. The wind carried snow so thick I couldn’t see more than a foot. It’s a miracle I made it back at all.”

“You were out in the storm?”

He’s quiet for a moment, lost in thought again. “I was,” he whispers. “I was. And I’m the only one who saw it.”

Saw what? I think, but he doesn’t give me time to ask.

“You know about the ice sheet breaking free?”