The Last Hunter - Ascent (Book 3 of the Antarktos Saga) by Jeremy Robinson
Book: The Last Hunter - Ascent (Book 3 of the Antarktos Saga) by Jeremy Robinson
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Authors: Jeremy Robinson
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thinker abomination, stings sharply with every twitch of muscle. The wound scabbed over quickly, so I never gave it much attention. The intense pain makes me think I should have. The sealed wound has been soaking in the lake water. It might have reopened when I was swimming. Could be deeper than I first thought too.
Later , I tell myself. Right now, I have to climb.
I pull myself up the wall slowly, dragging the claws, finding a hold and pulling myself up again and again until I’ve covered fifty feet. The pain in my chest is intense, but I can’t let it distract me now. I’m focused. Determined. And possibly, at a dead end.
The waterfall roars to my left. There is no ledge to step on and entering the water here is impossible. The strong current would yank me back into the lake and I lack the strength to repeat the climb. I scuttle across the wall, clinging to it with the climbing claws, and maneuver myself so I’m above the waterline. As I round the bend into the tunnel, I find footholds big enough for my toes and moving becomes easier. A few minutes later, I’m free of the wall, standing on the shore of a river that is at least ten feet deeper than I remember.
I turn my head up river and smell, searching the air for signs of life, human or otherwise. At first, I detect nothing. No blood. No rot. Nothing.
But then, there’s something faint. Something out of place. It’s earthy, but not stone. It’s more like dirt. Like soil. Damp and fragrant.
Like spring .
I close my eyes and breathe deeply. A blanket of air rushes past, pushed by the river. It carries the scent of vegetation, flowers and water. It smells like…life. And then I feel it.
The air.
It’s warm.
15
To say I’m confused is an understatement. The air flowing through this tunnel should be icy cold. Granted, I couldn’t feel the temperature during my previous time here, but the science—
My eyes pop open as I remember the cause. When I bonded with Nephil, he reached out and became bonded with the Earth. The bond lasted just a moment, but it was long enough for him to reposition Antarctica at the equator. Billions died. I sensed it. But I hoped it wasn’t true. But now there can be no doubt. The world has been remade. Antarktos has thawed under an equatorial sun. It explains the flooding. The air. The smell. And the disappearance of most subterranean species.
They’ve headed to the surface.
Back to the surface.
Most of the creatures eking out a living in the underground were originally surface dwellers. Like the Nephilim, when the continent froze, they moved beneath the surface. If not for the strange properties of this continent, they would have most likely died out long ago. But they are once again enjoying their time in the sun.
The sun.
I haven’t seen it in years. And as I head for the surface, following tunnels I know well, I’m filled with a sense of dread. The feeling is similar to what I felt when I was first dragged underground by Ninnis. The surface is an unfamiliar world now, even more so now that the snow is melting.
When I reach the final tunnel leading outside, I pause. There’s the crack where I hid the Polaroid photo of Mira and me. Not far away is the section of wall upon which I carved the words, “I forgive you,” for Ninnis. The words are illegible now, scratched away, most likely by Ninnis himself. Up ahead is the tunnel exit through which I would normally see a deep blue sky. Now the sky is full of thick, dark clouds. Thunderheads. The kind you see in New England in late spring.
The scent of ozone lingers in the air. Lightning, I think, just before the sky flickers with a brilliance that makes me shout in pain. The dark clouds had made the light of day bearable, but the sudden flash is as bright as the sun. I clench my eyes shut, holding my hands over them, and I see the bright green image of a lightning streak as though it’s etched into my eyelids.
Everything about my return to the
Later , I tell myself. Right now, I have to climb.
I pull myself up the wall slowly, dragging the claws, finding a hold and pulling myself up again and again until I’ve covered fifty feet. The pain in my chest is intense, but I can’t let it distract me now. I’m focused. Determined. And possibly, at a dead end.
The waterfall roars to my left. There is no ledge to step on and entering the water here is impossible. The strong current would yank me back into the lake and I lack the strength to repeat the climb. I scuttle across the wall, clinging to it with the climbing claws, and maneuver myself so I’m above the waterline. As I round the bend into the tunnel, I find footholds big enough for my toes and moving becomes easier. A few minutes later, I’m free of the wall, standing on the shore of a river that is at least ten feet deeper than I remember.
I turn my head up river and smell, searching the air for signs of life, human or otherwise. At first, I detect nothing. No blood. No rot. Nothing.
But then, there’s something faint. Something out of place. It’s earthy, but not stone. It’s more like dirt. Like soil. Damp and fragrant.
Like spring .
I close my eyes and breathe deeply. A blanket of air rushes past, pushed by the river. It carries the scent of vegetation, flowers and water. It smells like…life. And then I feel it.
The air.
It’s warm.
15
To say I’m confused is an understatement. The air flowing through this tunnel should be icy cold. Granted, I couldn’t feel the temperature during my previous time here, but the science—
My eyes pop open as I remember the cause. When I bonded with Nephil, he reached out and became bonded with the Earth. The bond lasted just a moment, but it was long enough for him to reposition Antarctica at the equator. Billions died. I sensed it. But I hoped it wasn’t true. But now there can be no doubt. The world has been remade. Antarktos has thawed under an equatorial sun. It explains the flooding. The air. The smell. And the disappearance of most subterranean species.
They’ve headed to the surface.
Back to the surface.
Most of the creatures eking out a living in the underground were originally surface dwellers. Like the Nephilim, when the continent froze, they moved beneath the surface. If not for the strange properties of this continent, they would have most likely died out long ago. But they are once again enjoying their time in the sun.
The sun.
I haven’t seen it in years. And as I head for the surface, following tunnels I know well, I’m filled with a sense of dread. The feeling is similar to what I felt when I was first dragged underground by Ninnis. The surface is an unfamiliar world now, even more so now that the snow is melting.
When I reach the final tunnel leading outside, I pause. There’s the crack where I hid the Polaroid photo of Mira and me. Not far away is the section of wall upon which I carved the words, “I forgive you,” for Ninnis. The words are illegible now, scratched away, most likely by Ninnis himself. Up ahead is the tunnel exit through which I would normally see a deep blue sky. Now the sky is full of thick, dark clouds. Thunderheads. The kind you see in New England in late spring.
The scent of ozone lingers in the air. Lightning, I think, just before the sky flickers with a brilliance that makes me shout in pain. The dark clouds had made the light of day bearable, but the sudden flash is as bright as the sun. I clench my eyes shut, holding my hands over them, and I see the bright green image of a lightning streak as though it’s etched into my eyelids.
Everything about my return to the
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