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

By the time Merrill turns back to face me, I’ve reached him.

My mind races back to the first time I met him, how I stumbled out of the car and hit my head like a clumsy oaf. He saw the whole thing, but didn’t say a word. Not until later at least, by which time we had become fast friends. Merrill knew everything about me, gave me my middle name and suspected before anyone, even me, that I might have some kind of power upon my return to Antarctica.

I reach out to shake his hand, which he returns, but my excitement gets the better of me. I reach my hands around him, hugging him tight. He coughs, surprised, and doesn’t return the embrace. But I don’t notice because I’m already moving on to Aimee, who is watching us with a grin. But when I open my arms to her, she just looks confused. And then a little afraid.

A tight hand on my biceps stops me and turns me back to Merrill. My smile disappears when I see his angry face.

“Son, I don’t care who you are to these people, you need to explain yourself before you put your hands on my wife.”

“What? Merrill, I—” It occurs to me that I might look so different now that he can’t recognize me. “It’s me. Solomon. Solomon Vincent.”

He stares at me dumbly.

“I’m Mark and Beth’s son.”

“I know who they are, but I’m not sure how you know them,” he says, looking a little defensive now.

“We came here, to Antarctica, twenty-one years ago. You, and me, my parents, and Aimee,” I point to Mira, who I am dying to greet, but she just looks angry, “and Mira. We went to Clark Station Two. I was kidnapped. Taken—”

“Hold on,” Merrill says. “I did come here with the Vincents, and with Mira, but you were not with us. I do not know you. And you are not the Vincents’ son.”

“I was born here,” I argue, then point to Amiee. “You caught me. Made me stop crying.” I turn back to Merrill. “You gave me my middle name, Ull.”

His face twitches at this, though I don’t think it’s in remembrance, but in recognition that it’s the kind of name he would give.

“All of this is impossible,” he says, growing angrier.

“It’s all true!” I shout at him, losing my patience. I turn to Aimee again. “Tell him! You’ve been here this whole time. You’ve seen me. You freed me. Tell him!”

“Son,” Merrill says quietly. “I can see that you’re upset, and in a minute, you’re going to tell me everything you know about my wife’s abduction and what you know about her time here, but you are either delusional or a liar.”

“You know I’m neither,” I say through grinding teeth.

Then he delivers the verbal knockout blow.

“It’s impossible, because the Vincents never had a son.”





31



“I am their son!” I shout, growing angry. Soldiers start to inch closer, hands by their weapons. I ignore them, focusing on Merrill. I decide to recall something from my parents’ shared past with the Clarks, something that only the four of them, or someone close enough to have heard the story, would know. The details, told to me by my father, come to me as though my father were speaking them into my ear.

“You introduced them. On a boat. A sailboat. The Argos. You all went searching for humpbacks in the Gulf of Maine. But you found nothing and the sea was flat.” I stab a finger at him. “You fell asleep.” I turn to Aimee. “You read a romance novel. And my parents talked. ‘By the end of the day, I was madly in love. Best day of my life.’ That’s what my father told me. They were married six months, fourteen days later, and you gave the toast. Quoted Virgil. ‘ómnia vincit amor; et nos cedamus amori.’ ‘Love conquers all things; let us too surrender to love.’”

All of the anger drains from Merrill’s face. Aimee’s too. But they’re still confused. Mira still looks angry, like she loathes me.

“How do you know all that?” Merrill asks.

“My father, your friend, told me.”

Merrill looks to Aimee, but she’s shaking her head. I’m still a stranger to her, too. I consider telling Aimee about her years as a captive, at least to see what lines up with reality, and what she remembers. She knows she lived among the Nephilim. She recalls being rescued. But all trace of me in those years of memories has been forgotten. How could they just forget me?

I feel the rest of my crew approach from behind and see the eyes of the group in front of me dart to each of them, looking a bit uncomfortable when they land on Xin. Kat steps to the front of the group. “You can trust him, Merrill.”

Merrill’s eyes go wide. “Katherine!” A genuine smile appears on his face for the first time. He gives her a quick hug and then looks around. “We thought you were dead. Where is Wright?”

“He is dead,” Kat says. “But he didn’t die at the river. He died later on, to save us.” She motions to our group, and then to me. “He died to save him. Because he is who he says he is. Did you know that my husband’s father was on that expedition? Steven Wright.”