Ice Station (12 page)

It was into this that Schofield saw the tiny pink-clad figure of
Kirsty drop with an ugly splash. She landed back-first and immediately
went under. Her high-pitched scream had followed her all the way down.

Schofield snapped around to look over at Book Riley, hanging from the
downturned B-deck railing.

Their eyes met for an instant. Book looked beaten, dejected,
exhausted. His eyes said it all. He couldn't do any more. He had
done all he could.

Schofield hadn't.

He pursed his lips, took in the situation.

Kirsty was on the far side of the pool, on the other side of the
diving bell, out in the open. Everybody else was near edges of the
pool, trying to get out. In their own efforts to escape, none of them
had seen her land in the pool. As he looked down at the pool,
Schofield could hear Montana's voice on the intercom yelling at
Snake and Santa Cruz in their gunless battle with the French soldiers
still up on A-deck.

“—Keep 'em moving round south—”

“—Can't use their guns either—”

Schofield spun around where he stood, looking for something he could
use.

He was still in the alcove, alone. Moments earlier, he'd
sent Gant down to the pool deck, while he'd intended to
go over and help Book. But before he'd even had a chance to get
over there, the little girl had fallen. And now she was down in the
pool.

Schofield saw the array of buttons on the console behind Mm, saw some
words underneath a lever: DIVING BELL—WINCH.

No, that was no help.

But then he saw another, large rectangular button, on which was
written a single word: BRIDGE.

Schofield stared at the button for a moment, perplexed. And then he
remembered. The retractable bridge. This must have been the control
switch for the retractable bridge that Hensleigh had told him about
earlier, the bridge that extended out from C-deck, out across the open
space in the center of the station.

Without even thinking, Schofield hit the long rectangular button and
immediately heard a loud, clanking noise from somewhere beneath his
feet.

An engine somewhere within the wall next to him suddenly hummed to
life and Schofield watched as a narrow, elongated platform began to
extend out over the enormous empty space in the middle of the station.

On the far side of the shaft Schofield saw another, identical,
platform begin to extend out from underneath the catwalk. Presumably,
the two platforms would meet in the middle and form one bridge
spanning the width of the station.

Schofield didn't miss a beat. He charged onto the bridge as it
extended out over the center of the station. It extended quite
quickly, in a telescopelike motion, smaller extensions being born out
of larger ones, and fast enough so that it stayed ahead of him as he
ran. It wasn't very wide, only about two feet, and it had no hand
railing.

Schofield ran across the extending bridge as it grew forward in front
of him. And then just as his platform was about to join with its twin
from the other side, he took a deep breath, increased his speed, and
leaped diagonally off the bridge.

Riley watched in amazement as Schofield sailed through the air, over
the massive diving bell, and arced down toward the icy pool.

He fell fast. But as he did so, Schofield did a strange thing. He
raised his right hand and unholstered something from behind his
shoulder.

When he hit the water, his feet entered first—with both legs
splayed wide so that he wouldn't go far underwater— while
both of his hands held the object he had pulled from behind his back.

Kirsty instinctively turned away as the water next to her exploded.

At first she thought it was one of the killer whales bursting out from
beneath the surface to take her under, but as the water fell back down
on top of her and she was able to see again, all she saw was a man
hovering in the water next to her.

It was one of the Marines. In fact, it was the one she had met before,
the nice one, the leader. The one who wore the cool reflective silver
sunglasses. She tried to remember his name. Seinfeld, she thought, or
something like that.

“You OK?” he said.

She nodded dumbly.

His silver glasses hung askew from his nose, dislodged by his landing
in the water. He swiped them off quickly and for a brief second Kirsty
saw his eyes and she gasped.

Suddenly one of the killers whooshed past them and Kirsty didn't
care about Schofield's eyes anymore.

The towering black dorsal fin sailed right past both of their eyes and
then slowly, very slowly, lowered itself into the water until finally
the tip of the massive fin dipped below the surface and disappeared.

Kirsty began to breathe very fast.

Beside her, Schofield immediately started to look down into the water
beneath them. They were treading water in one of the sections of the
pool that hadn't yet been contaminated with blood. The water
beneath them was crystal clear.

Kirsty followed his gaze and looked down into the water beneath
her—

—just in time to see the wide open mouth of the killer whale
rushing up at her feet!

Kirsty screamed like a banshee, but beside her, Schofield saved calm.
He quickly lowered his Maghook beneath the surface and for a
terrifying half-second, waited until the killer was right up
close ...

And then he fired.

The grappling hook, with its bulbous magnetic head, thundered out of
its launcher into the water and slammed into the killer whale's
snout, stopping the massive creature dead in its racks.

Four thousand pounds pet square inch of thrust had launched the
grappling hook. Whether or not it had truly been enough to stun a
full-grown seven-ton killer whale wasn't entirely clear to
Schofield. Hell, the whale was probably just shocked that something
had dared to fight back.

Schofield quickly pressed down twice on the trigger of the launcher
and the grappling hook immediately began to reel itself in.

He turned to face Kirsty again. “You still in one piece? Got all
your fingers and toes?”

Kirsty just stared at him, saw those eyes again, nodded dumbly.

“Come on then,” Schofield said as he pulled her through the
water.

Sarah Hensleigh reached the edge of the pool and clambered up onto the
deck as fast as she could. She turned back and saw Conlon and Abby
splashing through the water toward her.

“Hurry up!” Sarah yelled. “Hurry up!”

Abby got there first. Sarah grabbed her hand and yanked her up onto
the deck.

Conlon was still two yards away, swimming hard.

“Come on, Warren!”

Conlon swam for all he was worth.

One yard away.

He looked up desperately at Sarah, and she dropped to her knees at the
edge of the deck.

He got there. Slammed into the metal rim of the deck like a Olympic
swimmer hitting the wall at the end of a race. He reached up, grabbed
Sarah's outstretched hand. Sarah was just beginning to haul him up
onto the deck when suddenly the water behind him parted and one of the
killer whales burst up out of it. The big whale opened its mouth wide
and enveloped Conlon's body from foot to chest.

Conlon went bug-eyed as the killer clamped down hard on his chest and
Sarah tried desperately to hold onto his hand, but the killer was too
strong. When it dropped back down into the water it yanked so hard on
Cordon's body that Sarah felt the terrified scientist's
fingernails scratch her skin and draw blood, and then suddenly his
hand was out of her grasp and she fell to the deck and watched in
horror as Warren Conlon disappeared under the water right in front of
her eyes.

A few yards away, Mother and Rebound were also approaching the deck.

Rebound swam hard as Mother turned in the water and fired her MP-5
under the surface. One of the first things they teach you at Parris
Island, the legendary training camp of the United States Marine Corps,
is the resistance that water offers against gunfire. Indeed, the
average bullet will lose nearly all of its velocity in less man two
meters of water. After that it will just slow to a halt and sink to
the bottom.

Such physical laws, however, didn't seem to be bothering Mother
right now. She just waited until the killers got close and then she
fired hard. The bullets appeared to penetrate the outer skin, but they
didn't seem to do much damage. Mother fired and hit, and the
killers momentarily darted away, but they always seemed to come back,
unhurt, undeterred.

Rebound hit the deck and was about to climb up onto it when he turned
and saw Mother behind him.

She was looking down to her left, her gun arm jolting repeatedly as
she fired at something under the water. And then suddenly her gun arm
stopped its jolting movement and Mother looked confused. Her gun
wasn't firing anymore.

Frozen ammo.

Rebound watched as Mother shook her MP-5 in disgust, as if shaking it
would somehow make it work again.

It was then that Rebound saw an ominous dark shadow slithering upward
underneath the surface, silently approaching Mother from her right.

“Mother! Check right!”

Mother heard him and spun instantly and saw the killer whale rising
beneath her. Her gun now useless, Mother just pivoted in the water and
lifted her legs up sharply and the killer barreled past her, missing
her feet by inches.

But then, just when Rebound thought it had passed her by, the
killer whale abruptly changed course and broke the surface of the
water and wrapped its jaws around Mother's gun hand.

Mother yelled in pain and released her MP-5, yanking her hand free
just as the whale bit down on the gun.

A gash of red appeared instantly above her wrist. Blood slicked her
entire forearm.

But her hand was still there.

Mother didn't care. Now gunless, she just swam like hell for the
water's edge.

Rebound hoisted himself onto the deck and turned and urged Mother on.

“Move it, Mother! Pick it up, baby!”

Mother swam.

Rebound knelt at the edge of the deck.

Black shadows cut back and forth behind Mother's frantically
swimming frame.

Black shapes everywhere. Too many of them. And then, suddenly, it
dawned on Rebound.

Mother wasn't going to get to the deck in time.

Then, as if right on cue, a massive black silhouette appeared in the
water right behind Mother's frantically kicking legs.

It closed in slowly, through the rippling translucent water, and
Rebound saw a pink slit appear across its enormous black-and-white
jawline.

Its mouth was opening.

Teeth appeared and Rebound felt his blood run cold.

Through the crystalline water he saw the black shadow slowly rise and
rise behind Mother until it overtook her legs and allowed them to kick
inside its wide open mouth.

And then, with an ominous sense of finality, the big whale's jaws
closed slowly around Mother's knees.

The jolt that Mother experienced was incredible
in its ferocity.

Rebound watched in horror as the killer whale yanked her under. The
water around Mother started to froth and bubble and blood began to fan
out, but Mother was struggling fiercely, putting up a hell of a fight.

Suddenly she broke the surface and so did the killer. Somehow, during
their underwater scuffle, Mother must have managed to get one of her
legs free from the killer's jaws, because now she was using it to
kick down hard on the big whale's snout.

“You motherfucker!” she screamed. “I'm
gonna fucking kill you!” But it had her by the other leg
and it wasn't letting go.

Abruptly Mother shot forward in the water, raising a wash of white
waves in front of her. The whale was pushing her forward, toward
Rebound and the deck.

And then—clang!—Mother slammed down hard against
the edge of the deck and, amazingly, managed to get a handhold on the
metal grating.

“Fucking kill you! You son of a bitchl”
Mother yelled through clenched teeth.

Rebound dived forward and grabbed her hand as she grimly held the deck
and struggled with the killer whale in a tug-of-war over her own body.

Then Rebound saw Mother draw her powerful Colt automatic pistol from
its holster and level it at the killer whale's head. “Oh,
fuck me ...,” Rebound said.

“You want to eat something, baby?” Mother said to the whale.
“Eat this.”

She fired.

A small blast of yellow light flared out from the muzzle of
Mother's gun as the flash of her pistol ignited the gaseous air
around her. Both she and Rebound were hurled a full five yards
backward onto the deck by the concussion wave.

The whale wasn't so lucky. As soon as the bullet entered its
brain, the killer convulsed violently backward, snapping upward. Then
it just fell limply back into the water amid a cloud of its own blood,
its final prize—garnered in the split second before it
died—a portion of Mother's left leg. Everything from the
left knee down.

Schofield and Kirsty were still out in the middle of the pool, caught
halfway between the diving bell in the center and the deck twenty-five
feet away.

With their backs pressed against each other, they both looked
fearfully about themselves. The water around them was ominously still.
Quiet. Calm.

“Mister,” Kirsty said, her voice barely a whisper. Her jaw
was quivering, a combination of fear and cold.

“What?” Schofield kept his eyes trained on the water around
him.

“I'm scared.”

“Scared?” Schofield said, not exactly hiding his own fear
very well. “I didn't think kids these days were afraid of
anything. Don't they have this kind of stuff at Sea
World—”

At that moment, one of the killer whales shot up out of the water
right in front of Schofield. It rose out of the water and arced down
fast, heading right for him and Kirsty!