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

“Like B.C. and A.D.?”


She nods. “But for the Sumerians, it was before the flood, and after the flood.”

“Then Noah was a Sumerian?”

She shrugs. “In the beginning, I think we all were. But the point is, every ancient text preserved from every ancient culture in the world features the Nephilim, or giants resembling them. A great flood. And the freeing of man from the Nephilim corruption.” She pauses, looking unsure of her next words, but speaks them anyway. “Which you have felt first hand.”

She’s right about that, at least.

“Solomon, the Nephilim are corruptors of mankind, not just our minds and bodies, but our souls as well. They are our oldest enemy.”

The truth of it all settles in. They are, in fact, planning to attack the surface. And I am part of that plan. I am the key. “They’re going to make me their leader,” I say. “I’m supposed to lead them in a war against humanity.”

Her eyes pop open. “When?”

“I don’t know. They don’t seem to be in a hurry, but within my lifetime.”

“Why you?” she asks. “You’re...human.”

“I’m special,” I say. “Merrill told you about what he saw the day I was born?”

“Yes, but—”

“It’s all true,” I say, and then explain about the spirit of the Nephilim, about how it resides in the land of Antarctica and how it bonded me with the continent when I was born.

“That doesn’t sound possible.”

“You have no problem with demons mating with humans and a worldwide flood,” I say.

She’s silent for a moment. “But how did it make you different?”

I close my eyes and focus on the air in the room. I can feel it around me, billions of microscopic molecules. I turn it in my mind. I spin it. When I feel the pull on my hair, I open my eyes. Aimee’s rags are waving in the wind. Her braid hovers over her shoulder, held out horizontally. She steps closer to me, into the eye of the small cyclone I have made.

“Okay,” she whispers. Terrified.

The wind falls away fast as I feel horrible for scaring her. But she believes me now. “I’m connected to the continent. I feel no cold. The wind, snow, water and land are part of me. I don’t know how it works. And they don’t know about it. I don’t think it was supposed to happen.”

“Then it’s a blessing,” she says. “A gift.”

“For what?”

“To fight them.”

“Fight them?”

She leans in close. “They will enslave the human race if they can, Solomon. They will corrupt us all. They have to be stopped.”

All I want to do is take Aimee and leave. I know this is probably impossible now, but I have to try to find a way. We can return to the surface and hop on a plane back to New Hampshire. Back to my parents. And Justin. Mira and Dr. Clark. And forget all about this place. But fight them?

I can’t. “If I stay here... They want to— I’m supposed to—”

She takes my hands in hers. “It’s okay, Sol. We can figure this out together. You’re not alone anymore.”

“To become their leader, I need to offer myself...I need to take in the spirit of Nephil.”

“The spirit of the Nephilim? You said that happened when you were born.”

“Spirit is the word they use for supernatural energy. Like magic. That’s what I absorbed when I was born. In this case, it’s more of a traditional meaning. The spirit of Nephil, their leader. He was the first Nephilim. The first child born of a human woman and a demon father, if that’s what you believe. If I accept his spirit, which is trapped in Tartarus, far below us, it will live in me. I will become him and he me. Being born here, with the Nephilim magic in me, makes me strong enough to contain him, permanently.”

“Tartarus?”

“It’s a place worse than—”

“I know what Tartarus is, but I never imagined it was—”

“Real?”

She nods.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing every day since I got here.”

A smile stretches onto her face. “I’m sure you have.” The smile fades. “If everything you’ve told me is true, we can’t let it happen. We have to stop them.”

“Just the two of us?” I laugh at the insanity of it.

“No,” she says. “Just you.”

My smile fades. She’s serious.

“I’m not sure I’ll survive the day. I don’t know what they have planned for me, do you?”

I don’t, and I shake my head. “I won’t let them kill you.”

“You may not have a choice.”

“Why?” I say, my voice raising an octave. “Why do I have to do this?”

“It’s not fair,” she says. “Lord knows, it’s not fair. Your heart...your heart was so pure.” She looks at the floor as sadness sweeps over her face. She doesn’t want to say any of this to me. But she does, because she believes it. “Sometimes people are chosen for things that are so much bigger than them. But they are given the strength to persevere, to see it through.”