He suddenly stepped into empty air, vanishing with a whoosh.
I was yanked down with him, crashing onto his body.
"Oof — shit!"
Marcus let out a pained grunt.
I scrambled up in a panic. "Are you okay?"
Marcus clutched his stomach and rolled on the ice, gasping, "You knocked the crap out of me!"
I scowled. "Give me a break, I only weigh ninety pounds."
Marcus opened his mouth to retort, but his expression suddenly twisted into terror. Trembling, he raised a finger toward the opening above us, unable to speak.
I followed his pointing hand.
The creature had followed us. It was perched at the hole we'd fallen through, its two black-hole eyes fixed on us.
We were done for. Cornered like rats.
Now we were trapped in this sealed space with it blocking the only way out.
I didn't know if Marcus and I could take it in a fight. The one person who looked remotely capable of fighting was too scared to speak, and my scrawny frame probably wouldn't survive a single blow.
Those three claws — Wolverine-style — could skewer me straight through.
Wait.
Three claws?
I frowned, studying the creature's grip on the ice.
Where fingers should have been, there were three jagged talons, each about eight inches long.
Their tips gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen.
Suddenly the memory hit me — the three gashes in the iron hull that had cut my hand back on the ship.
No way.
If those claws could rip through steel, they could slice us into sashimi.
And the people on that ship...
A chill sank through me. I didn't dare think further.
Marcus and I stood there like lambs awaiting slaughter, our legs trembling like noodles, exhausted and terrified.
The creature squeezed its body through the narrow opening, those black-hole eyes locked on us both.
Up close, I realized its entire structure mirrored a human's.
One head, two arms, two legs.
But instead of hands, it had those razor claws, and its legs looked as though they'd been violently broken and bent backward, thick and powerfully muscled.
When it climbed, it drove its claws into the ice like a gecko, descending head-first.
Marcus yanked his ice axe from his pack, gripping it like a lifeline.
We didn't even dare to breathe, pressing our backs against the wall behind us.
The creature's jaws gaped open with a hiss. Its mouth unhinged like a snake's, nearly 180 degrees, revealing rows of jagged teeth and a long, pale tongue.
Drool dripped from it onto the ice floor and didn't freeze.
Marcus and I were paralyzed with horror, every hair standing on end. The creature rocked backward, coiling — then lunged straight at us!
"Shit!"
Marcus stumbled back, then gritted his teeth and charged forward, bringing the ice axe down hard on the creature's skull.
The metal tip whistled through the air. The creature shrieked as the blow caved in a chunk of its head.
Holy hell. I shot Marcus a look of awe.
Impressive.
But the creature merely shook its head, and the crater in its skull healed at a rate visible to the naked eye.
Our eyes nearly popped out. If it could regenerate that fast, how were we supposed to fight it?
I pulled out my own ice axe and stood beside Marcus. He shot me a sidelong glance, panting. "Get behind me."
Honestly, it was the first time I realized Marcus could actually be kind of macho.
The creature retreated to a corner and crouched low, as though afraid of us.
Just as we started to exhale, it launched itself forward. Terrified, I hurled my ice axe at it — but it twisted mid-air and dodged, careening right toward me.
The damn thing had intelligence. It knew to pick the weaker prey.
Marcus threw himself in front of me, swinging his axe so fiercely that when metal met claw, sparks flew with a ringing clang.
No wonder those claws could shred iron.
The creature hissed and swung its other claw at Marcus's throat. In desperation, I hurl my backpack at its arm.
Marcus scrambled into a roll, putting distance between himself and the thing.
What now?
My mind raced. The thing was impervious to blades, regenerated almost instantly, and had claws that could slice through metal.
If this kept up, both of us were going to die right here.
We kept backing up until our spines pressed flat against the ice wall.
To our surprise, the creature circled in front of us, snarling, but held back — as if wary of something.
It paced frantically, its claws carving deep gouges into the ice.
After a while, apparently deciding we weren't coming closer, it let out a furious hiss, pushed off with its powerful hind legs, and leaped up through the hole.
Its pale face flashed across the opening, then vanished into darkness.
Marcus and I stared at each other, baffled.
We waited a while longer. It didn't come back.
Marcus hedged, "Is it possible this place is like a fridge, and it's not that hungry yet, so it's saving us for later?"
I gave a cold laugh. "You're really killing it with the comedy. Let's see if you keep that positive attitude when it comes back for a snack."
Marcus managed a sheepish grin. "Hey, gotta stay positive, right?"
We finally let out a long breath. I slid down the ice wall, legs like jelly, gulping air.
Marcus's knees gave out too. He half-knelt on the ground.
Neither of us spoke, just gasping as if we could breathe the fear out of our lungs.
After a long while, Marcus propped himself up with his axe and looked around, frowning.
"So... where the hell are we?"
That was when I noticed that this place wasn't a natural formation.
It was a massive ice cave, much of it lost to darkness.
But unlike the rough, uneven surfaces above, these walls were smooth and even — almost polished.
This place had been excavated. By someone.
But who in the world would carve out a cave beneath Antarctic ice?
The hole we'd fallen through wasn't impossibly high, but the walls were sheer ice. Even if we could climb, we wouldn't dare go back up — we might run right into that creature.
I sat on the ground, flexing my numb legs. "Let's look around. Maybe there's another way out."
Marcus nodded, pulled me to my feet, and we aimed our flashlights in opposite directions.
On closer inspection, I was certain this was artificial.
The ice surface wasn't naturally rough — it bore the marks of tools, deliberate scratches from grinding and polishing.
A cold dread crept through me.
Why would someone carve an ice cave beneath Antarctica? What was it for?
And Professor Marshall.
Why had he been so desperate to bring us in here?
What was he searching for?
Had this entire Antarctic trip been planned from the start?
That phone call before we left — the one telling him not to come — who made it? Did that person already know about these monsters?
And the most terrifying thought of all: these creatures looked so human. What were they?
Could Marcus have been right about subterranean humans?
Question after question piled up in my brain, making it heavy and sluggish.
Suddenly my flashlight swept across the floor, and something caught my eye.
I crouched and directed the beam straight down at the ice.
A small dark object was sealed inside the ice, impossible to identify.
I placed my flashlight flat on the surface and finally made out what appeared to be a metal object, catching a sliver of reflected light.
I pulled out my ice axe, took aim, and hammered down.
The object wasn't frozen very deep. Shards of ice sprayed as a pointed tip emerged.
I struck a few more times and pried the thing free.
...
Sure enough. Someone had been here before.
Resting in my gloved palm was a brass key, cold as the grave.
I closed my fist around it, realizing we were caught in something far larger than ourselves — a mystery where every one of us was being pushed forward through the fog.
Behind me, Marcus suddenly yelled, "Chloe! Chloe, look!"