tiny chamber. It hit the far wall and clattered loudly, spinning on the desktop.
The bull roared, casting out flumes of fire from its throat. It charged toward the cabin, either lured by the sound, or maybe it could see. The beast did have a set of black-diamond eyes, lit by an inner fire, but they could be merely decorative.
Either way, the bull lowered its horns and barreled through the water, leaving a fiery wake in its path, along with the stench of burning oil. It leaped headlong into the cabin and smashed into the desk, splintering it to ruin, then struck the curved prow hard enough to jolt the entire ship.
Mac and John were already moving. John shifted to the center of the hold, while Mac headed to the cabin. Once in position, John fired both barrels into the back of the bull. The solid-shot shells pounded into its rump with resounding clangs but only dented its surface.
Still, the impact of those massive slugs hammered the beast in place and gave Mac a chance to reach the open door. He set his shoulder against it and shoved it closed. John joined him and grabbed the brass bar they had set outside. Together they jammed the brace between the door and floor planks.
Inside, the bull thrashed and roared, but the confined space gave it little room to maneuver or get up a head of steam to smash out.
Or so we better hope.
“Go!” Mac yelled.
The two of them splashed their way out of the ship. They clambered to the rocky shore and sprinted through the maze of boulders and bergs. It quickly became too dark to see as they left the flaming pools of the lake behind them.
“Nuka!” Mac shouted. “Get those lamps back on!”
Lights flared in the distance.
Then a huge crack of timbers exploded behind them. Mac glanced back to see the bull burst through the side of the hull. It bounded high, lit by angry flames. It landed with a skid of sparks and thundered toward them, cloaked in fire and smoke.
“Haul ass,” Mac urged John.
Together they ran for the cascading water. Upon reaching it, they scrambled up the wet rock toward the lighted tunnel. Inside, he spotted two figures crowded together a short way up.
“Keep going!” he yelled to them.
The heavy tread of the bull closed in behind them. It shattered through ice and bounced off boulders in its haste to run down its prey.
Mac pushed John into the tunnel, then crowded in behind him.
Nuka slid back and passed an ice ax to Mac. He pantomimed hacking into the ice. “Dig and move!”
Got it.
John managed to scale the slick tunnel with a skill ingrained into his DNA. Mac followed, clawing at the ice with the ax and dragging himself up. It was slow going. The others were leaving him behind.
Not going to make it.
He was right.
The bull reached the tunnel and slammed headlong into it. Jammed there, it roared at Mac, sending gouts of flame at him. Its jagged maw snapped at his scrambling feet.
Panicked, he let his ax slip. He belly-flopped into the current and washed back toward the bull.
“Stay down!” Nuka hollered.
Twin blasts deafened him. He felt the passage of the shotgun slugs over his head. The rounds struck the bull between the horns and punched it back into the tunnel, buying Mac enough time to plant his ice ax again and regain his footing.
He set off quickly, knowing the bull would be back.
It roared behind him.
A woman shouted to him, “We’re almost to the ropes!”
Mac didn’t know who this lady was, but he obeyed. He set a harder pace. By the time he reached the others, Nuka and the stranger had secured their hip harnesses to belaying devices.
Nuka pointed to the back of their two harnesses. “Grab hold.”
John latched on to the woman’s harness; Mac locked his fingers on to Nuka’s.
“Hold tight,” the lady warned. “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”
1:42 P.M.
Maria pressed the radio to her lips. “Now . . . as fast as you can!”
She stared up the dark throat of the moulin. She clutched the rope with both hands. A slight vibration was the only warning. The slack in the line snapped taut—and the four of them were jerked forward and dragged bodily up the slick chute.
Earlier, while waiting tensely, Maria had radioed topside, letting them know they would need an immediate evacuation. With their two ropes secured to the tow hitch of a snowmobile, she saw no reason to climb on their