the arm, dragged her away towards the waiting chopper.
The ground shook, knocking Carise off balance. It was as if the entire mountain was pitching left and right, like a ship at sea. She managed to avoid a further swipe from the tentacle when a crack in the ice between them and the now panicked-looking chopper pilot opened up. The ground splintered, sending rock upwards at a steep angle.
Marcel jumped and managed to cling to the edge of the rising rock.
Carise followed and missed. Unable to get the height in her jump, her hands scraped the edge. She slumped down to the snowy ground as the tentacle thrust forward like an arrow, smashing just centimeters from her face into the wall of rock and ice. She screamed, fell onto her back.
Marcel clung to the edge of the rising rock. And then above his head, a second tentacle appeared, swaying violently in the air.
Smith increased the power in the chopper, lifted up from the shifting surface. He whirled his finger so that they understood he was coming back around for them. He navigated above the first tentacle and hovered down next to Marcel, who reached out and grabbed onto the landing skid.
The second tentacle attacked like a cobra, catching Marcel with a glancing blow and sending him flying off the rock. Hanging by the rail of the chopper with one hand and his legs thrashing in midair, he shouted up to Smith, ordered him to land and rescue Carise.
But the thing under the mountain had other ideas. Ignoring the stranded Carise, who flailed about the ice trying to get her balance, it whipped up and over her, slashing its hooks against the aircraft. The force of the attack rolled the chopper to one side, swinging Marcel against the raised rock. He lost his grip and slid down to the ground with a heavy thud.
Smith righted the chopper, landed it on the tentacle. The weight barely dented the thing, but it prevented its furious assault. Even still, the thing’s strength managed to shift the chopper across the ice.
“Get in!” Smith shouted over the loudspeaker.
Sensing her chance, Carise pulled herself up, grabbed Marcel by his hood, and scrambled across the still-shaking earth. The second tentacle had risen farther from beneath the mountain and was now seeking them over the splintered rock.
Jumping into the open doors, Carise and Marcel scrambled into the cabin just as the trapped tentacle freed itself and slashed across the closing door. The hooks rendered deep scratches into the Plexiglas and it reared up for another assault—but it went too high, slicing the tip into the rotors, splashing a viscous black fluid down the sides of the chopper.
A hideous roar erupted from beneath the ice.
“There’s more of them,” Carise said, pointing to three further eruptions in the pass. Stone, ice and snow exploded into the night sky as more of the hook-covered limbs burst forth. One of them extended up towards the chopper, slashed its hooks at the windshield.
“Take her up, Smith,” Marcel shouted. “Do it now.”
“I’m trying,” Smith yelled back as he pulled on the flight stick and gunned the engine. It lifted a meter off the ground before the engines whined and labored.
“It’s grabbed on.” Carise pointed to the side of the cabin. One of the tentacles had wrapped around the landing skid and was pulling them back down to the ice.
Smith eased the throttle, tried again, powering up the engines. The chopper jolted up farther before the tentacle tensed against the force of the engines and pulled it back down slowly to the ground.
“Shoot the damn thing,” Smith said, thumbing behind him to the location of a rifle attached to the rear cabin wall. “We keep it for bears, it might not—”
Before he had chance to finish his sentence, Marcel had located the weapon, pulled it free from its straps. He pulled the ammo box free and loaded the high-caliber rifle.
“Hold me still, Carise,” Marcel said as he opened the cabin door a crack and pointed the barrel towards
The ground shook, knocking Carise off balance. It was as if the entire mountain was pitching left and right, like a ship at sea. She managed to avoid a further swipe from the tentacle when a crack in the ice between them and the now panicked-looking chopper pilot opened up. The ground splintered, sending rock upwards at a steep angle.
Marcel jumped and managed to cling to the edge of the rising rock.
Carise followed and missed. Unable to get the height in her jump, her hands scraped the edge. She slumped down to the snowy ground as the tentacle thrust forward like an arrow, smashing just centimeters from her face into the wall of rock and ice. She screamed, fell onto her back.
Marcel clung to the edge of the rising rock. And then above his head, a second tentacle appeared, swaying violently in the air.
Smith increased the power in the chopper, lifted up from the shifting surface. He whirled his finger so that they understood he was coming back around for them. He navigated above the first tentacle and hovered down next to Marcel, who reached out and grabbed onto the landing skid.
The second tentacle attacked like a cobra, catching Marcel with a glancing blow and sending him flying off the rock. Hanging by the rail of the chopper with one hand and his legs thrashing in midair, he shouted up to Smith, ordered him to land and rescue Carise.
But the thing under the mountain had other ideas. Ignoring the stranded Carise, who flailed about the ice trying to get her balance, it whipped up and over her, slashing its hooks against the aircraft. The force of the attack rolled the chopper to one side, swinging Marcel against the raised rock. He lost his grip and slid down to the ground with a heavy thud.
Smith righted the chopper, landed it on the tentacle. The weight barely dented the thing, but it prevented its furious assault. Even still, the thing’s strength managed to shift the chopper across the ice.
“Get in!” Smith shouted over the loudspeaker.
Sensing her chance, Carise pulled herself up, grabbed Marcel by his hood, and scrambled across the still-shaking earth. The second tentacle had risen farther from beneath the mountain and was now seeking them over the splintered rock.
Jumping into the open doors, Carise and Marcel scrambled into the cabin just as the trapped tentacle freed itself and slashed across the closing door. The hooks rendered deep scratches into the Plexiglas and it reared up for another assault—but it went too high, slicing the tip into the rotors, splashing a viscous black fluid down the sides of the chopper.
A hideous roar erupted from beneath the ice.
“There’s more of them,” Carise said, pointing to three further eruptions in the pass. Stone, ice and snow exploded into the night sky as more of the hook-covered limbs burst forth. One of them extended up towards the chopper, slashed its hooks at the windshield.
“Take her up, Smith,” Marcel shouted. “Do it now.”
“I’m trying,” Smith yelled back as he pulled on the flight stick and gunned the engine. It lifted a meter off the ground before the engines whined and labored.
“It’s grabbed on.” Carise pointed to the side of the cabin. One of the tentacles had wrapped around the landing skid and was pulling them back down to the ice.
Smith eased the throttle, tried again, powering up the engines. The chopper jolted up farther before the tentacle tensed against the force of the engines and pulled it back down slowly to the ground.
“Shoot the damn thing,” Smith said, thumbing behind him to the location of a rifle attached to the rear cabin wall. “We keep it for bears, it might not—”
Before he had chance to finish his sentence, Marcel had located the weapon, pulled it free from its straps. He pulled the ammo box free and loaded the high-caliber rifle.
“Hold me still, Carise,” Marcel said as he opened the cabin door a crack and pointed the barrel towards
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