Prey

"A bigger part of me thinks that they're probably dead by now. Used for some reason. Food? I don't know. It's gruesome as hell trying to debate the possibilities. The best thing we can do is press on and try to find them."

"Or whatever is left of them," said Julia.

"That didn't sound like optimism."

"It's not."

Mick nodded and handed her the M16. "Time we got to our positions."

She took one side of the cave and he the other. She kept glancing over at him. Part of it was for reassurance. Knowing that he was in the nearby vicinity made her feel somewhat safe.

Part of it was because she still didn't completely trust him. Something about him didn't make sense. She wished she could peel back the layers of his head and reach into his brain to extract everything she needed to know.

But she couldn't.

Not yet.

Mick leaned against the cave wall with his gun in hand. He kept the butt in his shoulder but the muzzle pointed just below the horizon. Julia recalled seeing a special on the Discovery Channel about special operations commandos and how they used that position. What had they called it? Low-ready? They could bring up their weapon faster than if it was at their side. They could align the sights faster and bring their targets down.

And here was Mick using a similar style.

Julia didn't think Mick was being completely honest with her. Or any of them.

But why? What was he hiding? And for what purpose?

More to the point, who could Julia trust on her team?

Wilkins.

She smiled. He was her number two man. And she knew he wouldn't take crap from anyone. He'd back her no matter what. She felt lucky to have him along on the trip.

She glanced up, feeling Mick looking at her. It amazed her how much their eyes had adjusted to the dismal lighting down here. The lantern cast only a tiny amount of light, mainly because they'd turned down the oil consumption to preserve the fuel. But even still, Julia could see Mick pretty well.

And he could see her.

She smiled at him. He smiled back.

That was it.

She turned and stared down into the darkness of the cave tunnel. Further down there sat answers to all her questions. All they had to do was walk down, find their way to the other side of the rocks with the light bleeding through them and then have at it with whatever came at them from the other side.

Julia gulped.

She wasn't so sure she wanted another firefight.

Especially if this one was going to be real.

But she didn't have a choice. She owed it to her team. She owed it to Vikorsky and Havel. She owed it to the other staff members who'd gone missing before they arrived.

But most of all, she owed it to herself.

She wasn't going to let this beat her. She wouldn't give Kendall the satisfaction of seeing her beaten.

She smirked and tried to imagine how good it would feel coming back from this trip with everyone safe and sound. How good it would feel to be thought of as a hero. Didn't everyone want to know how that felt? Didn't everyone wish deep down that just once they could save the day? That they could know what it felt like to stand in the winner's circle?

Sure.

More doubt washed over her. Home was thousands of miles away. Clear across the freaking planet. Back to the land of SUVs, cellphones, and cutthroat everyday people.

Julia was leaning against the wall of a dank humid cave deep in Antarctica.

Hunted.

She shivered once realizing how that actually felt. For so long man had considered himself the ruler of the world. Except in certain situations. By and large modern man had mastered every domain, beaten back every race and species until none could stand toe-to-toe with mankind.

And now suddenly something down here was threatening that.

But what?

She shifted, wondering how long they'd been standing there. Then she thought better of it. It had probably only been a few minutes. No longer certainly.

She looked at Mick again. "How do you stay awake?"

He grinned. "I'm thinking about all the food I'm going to eat when I get home."

"Like what?"

"Barbecue. I make a mean set of ribs. Slow cook the things for hours. Drenched in beer, the meat really falls off the bones. We're talking hours of slow-cooking, but it's totally worth it."

"You have one of those oil drums?"

"You mean a barrel smoker?" He nodded. "You bet. It's the only way to do it right. It's tough trying to cook them any other way."

Julia felt her mouth swim in saliva. "I could use some of those right now."

"What — you didn't like the ham stew?"

She smirked. "Oh sure. And the tobasco sauce made it all the tastier."

"We had a saying back in the service: tobasco makes everything taste better."

She looked at him. "That's some saying."

"Yeah. Kinda lame, huh?"

"Just not very original is all."

"We weren't paid to be original," said Mick.

What were you paid for, Julia wondered.

Mick shifted. "It'll be time to wake the others up soon."

"Has it been that long?"

"Almost an hour."

"Really? Feels like only two minutes."

"Trust me," said Mick.

I want to, thought Julia. I really do.

But she couldn't.

Not just yet.

She hoped she'd be able to.

Soon.

16