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

To my surprise, and my father’s, I shove him. Hard.

He stumbles back. “Sol...”

I step toward him, bloody fists clenched. Collette is shouting something, her voice warbling like an injured turkey’s. I hear my mother’s voice, but not her words. “I opened your safe. I found the rock. Why didn’t you tell me what would happen.”

“What happened?” my father asks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I shout again. The people standing around me become blurs. I can’t see anyone through my tears. My energy drains suddenly, and I fall to my knees. The world turns black.

As I fall, my father catches me and picks me up like I’m five years old again. I can feel him carry me back toward his Sno-Cat. I’m asleep before we get there and have no memory of the rest of the trip to Clark Station Two.





10



I wake up confused, not because I don’t remember where I am—I know exactly where I am—but because the noise of the place is unfamiliar. I feel like I’m in a subway station and somewhere in the dark, there’s a train barreling toward me. Shaking metal. Screeching. A deep resonating rumble that chatters the teeth.

But there is no train. I’m in a bed. There’s a wool blanket pulled up to my chin, but it’s not itchy. The room is small and formed from four metal walls and a metal ceiling. I’ve seen bread boxes with more style. There are no windows. A desk with a lamp on top is next to the bed. The lamp is the room’s only source of light, glowing a dull yellow.

A rumble rolls across the ceiling, like a wave of energy has coursed through it. Fear twists my gut. Is this my fault? Has the ice broken? I jump out of bed, steadying myself on the desk. Stumbling toward the door, I notice I’m fully dressed. I’m not wearing a coat, but I’ve got on insulated pants, full body long johns, a turtleneck and a sweater. I twist the door handle and give it a pull. The door opens and I hear a gentle ring somewhere, but don’t bother trying to figure it out. I need to find out what’s...happening.

I stop in the hallway and listen. I hear nothing. No storm. No shrieking metal. No subway car. The world has gone silent.

The hallway is long and lined with doors on either side like a college dorm. I’m sure my parents are behind one of these doors, but don’t want to risk walking in on a half-dressed Collette or someone else I have yet to meet. I find my feet and walk down the hall, careful not to make any noise.

The hall opens up to a large room that is one part kitchen, one part lounge. Lights triggered by motion sensors illuminate the room. There’s a counter-top, sink and fridge to my left; a TV and two couches to my right. A laptop sits closed on a desk. There’s a door directly across from the hallway. I head toward it, not knowing what’s on the other side.

The door is heavy and thick, but swings open with little effort. The short hallway beyond is lined with jackets and snow gear hanging from hooks. Each set of clothing is labeled with a name. I see mine down near the end.

I pause in front of my jacket, knowing it’s not necessary, but consider wearing it anyway.

No, I think, it will just get in the way.

Get in the way of what?

The door leading outside opens just as easily as the first door. I step out into the night and am dazzled by the stars above me. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen so many, even in the back woods of Maine. But there is an aberration in the sky. One of the stars is moving. It grows closer and I can focus on it, seeing it for its true self—a snowflake lit by the light pouring from the hallway behind me. I’ve left the door open.

I turn to close the door and notice the sky behind me. There are no stars. Every pinpoint of light in the sky to the south has been blotted out by something massive. The snowflake, I think.

That’s when I hear it. A tiny tick, like a grain of sand falling on a tile floor. I close my eyes and hold my breath. A moment of silence passes before I hear it again. Tick. Then again. Tick, tick.

It’s the snow. I can hear each flake as it lands on the ice.

I smile at the magic of it, of my home, and know I won’t be sleeping for the rest of the night. This is what I came for, I think. I want to experience this new world and up until this moment, I haven’t really. I’ve made a fool of myself. I’ve been feared. Maybe even threatened. And I’ve freaked out almost everyone I’ve met. Not that everything has been all bad. I consider all the Clarks to be my friends. Dr. Clark is a confidant and mentor. Aimee is a friend and emotional support. And Mira, well she might be all of the above and something more. I’m not sure how teenage courtship is done, but since I’m the only teenage boy within a three thousand mile radius, I think my chances are pretty good. Probably won’t be this good ever again.