Too tired to turn, the best Cass could do was throw herself to the side, letting gravity take her out of the way of the swing of Biddi’s axe. Moving with glacial speed, she rolled over and over in the snow, trying to build up the momentum she needed to get to her feet. Biddi chased after her, swinging the axe in wild, drunken passes. Cass, mesmerized by the motion and her own exhaustion, watched as Biddi raised her axe and brought it down in a two-handed chop.
Cass slipped out of the way, scrambled to her feet, and threw her shoulder into Biddi’s torso, pushing more than striking her. The woman stumbled back, flailing her arms to keep her balance. Clutching her axe in two hands, Cass followed her with desperate swings, missing by wide margins. Staggering, tripping, running, she followed after Biddi. In the face of Cass’s onslaught, Biddi slipped and went down on one knee.
Putting all her accumulated rage and fear into a final swing, Cass brought the axe down in an overhand arc, catching Biddi high in the chest. The point of the axe, sharp as a beak, traveled through the thick layers and lodged deep in her flesh.
Her friend gave a single, strangled cry and collapsed, dropping her axe as she fell. Exhausted, Cass dropped to her knees, then sank to all fours with her head hanging down. The capricious wind died for a moment, leaving the icy plain strangely quiet. Biddi moaned; whistling, burbling noises rose from her chest.
Blood, black and shiny in the stark moonlight, spilled from the gap between Biddi’s parka and scarf. Cass’s axe was still stuck obscenely in her chest and Biddi pawed weakly at it for a moment, then her hands slowed, then stopped, then fell away.
Cass crawled the few feet separating them. Reaching out, she gently pushed back the scarf and the blank inhuman mask of the balaclava, exposing Biddi’s face. Her friend’s eyes, open to slits, widened slightly, then sunk back again. Her lips were moving. Cass bent forward.
In the suddenly silent icy world, Biddi sighed. “Cassie, love. Save us, won’t you?”
Her breathing thickened, then stopped.
Cass sunk onto the ice next to her, lying there for a long moment as the wind picked up again. Flecks of snow began to collect on Biddi’s face, sticking to her nose and eyelashes and cheeks. In only a minute, ice had covered Biddi’s eyes and snow had filled her mouth, transforming her from something human into a feature of the landscape, another part of the ice.
When she could no longer recognize her friend’s face, Cass rolled onto her back and looked up at the stars. The light of her headlamp shone skyward like a bloody beacon. Sleep, beckoning, pulled her into a black abyss and her arms spread wide, as though asking for a hug or making a snow angel.
An aurora, like a ghostly green ribbon, tore across the sky. It’s beautiful , she thought, glad to have seen it. A feeling of peace enveloped her. The voice in her head nagged at her to get up, to fight, but she gently shut it away. Her struggle was over, and it was enough to have tried.
She wished for the people she had failed—in her past, in the present—to forgive her.
So she forgave herself.
And then she closed her eyes.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
In the distance, pinpoints of light wavered and winked like stars. Minutes passed and the tiny, flickering lights, spaced as orderly as diamonds on a necklace, became round moons, then pale planets bobbing and moving in a line until they materialized as the headlights of a convoy of giant Vityaz snowcats wending their way along the SPoT road.
Ice crystals, thrown into the air by the deep-toothed tires, glittered as they fell back to earth. Shackleton was the obvious goal, but just as the snowcats poked their nose toward the base, the herd slowed, then veered toward the red beam of a headlamp shooting toward the sky. Pulling close, one of the giant machines stopped with a lurch. Frozen, nearly unconscious, Cass turned her head to watch as the door opened, only mildly interested. Four men, big as bears, hopped out of the cab and waddled over to her.
One of them knelt by her side and, pulling his scarf down, he flashed her a bearded smile she hadn’t seen in nearly a year. “Vozlyublennaya , what’s a nice girl like you doing out on a night like this?”
“Oh my God.” Cass clutched at him. “Vox.”
He put a mittened hand along her face. “It is just Sasha now, Blaze.”
With his arms around her, he helped her to her feet. Step by step they walked to the snowcat. The three other men, with the painstaking care reserved for a child or a saint, raised her into the cab. White clouds billowed into the night as the door opened, then was shut quickly.
The Russians held a quick conference, then three of the Vityaz continued on toward the American base. The last turned and headed for the safety of Orlova, leaving the wreckage of Shackleton, and the lives of the crew who’d manned it, behind.
AUTHOR’S NOTE