Frost Moon

Frost Moon Part 9

Meanwhile, at the foot of the small hill, Katherine was studying the cabins intently. Eager defenders had cleared the hillsides of any potential cover a long time ago - but that also gave any potential assailants an unobstructed view. After a while, she gave the binoculars back to Herlovsen. This was too easy. There had to be some kind of security system, or at least some hidden guards. But all she could Hear were five Voices, and everything seemed quiet. Good thing she had some mine sweepers. She flicked her wrist and pointed more or less at random at Designated Mine Sweeper Number One, Giske. 'You! Advance up that hill!'

Giske looked shocked. 'What? No fucking way! You can't just order me to my death! My father sits on the Council of Elders!' He had obviously forgotten where he was and who he was talking to.

Monkey grinned next to him, igniting a small blow torch he'd just pulled out of his pack. 'Would you like this up your ass instead, whelp?'

Giske swallowed hard and shook his head.

'Then I suggest you follow the boss's order and get said ass moving up that hill. First and only warning,' Monkey spat. 'Besides, that fancy armor of yours ought to protect you from shrapnel.' He looked thoughtful for awhile. 'I wonder if they have anti-armor defenses. That would beworse for you. Anyway, get moving! You can only die once, kid, and you'd prefer it if it isn't at our hands.'

Giske threw Herlovsen one last, desperate look - then seemed to accept the inevitable. The others watched as he trudged up the hill - their faces lighting up as a mine exploded, throwing the young soldier sideways. Another explosion flared as he landed on a second mine, sending him flying again. Amazingly, the Italian armor had held, and Giske seemed mostly unhurt - at least physically. Mentally, on the other hand, there was room for improvement.

'You fucking cowards,' he screamed at the unseen enemy. 'Is that the best you can do?' Something snapped inside Giske and she started shooting wildly at some bushes before charging up the hill, gun blazing. 'Take that, you fucking fuck-faces! Feel the fucking fury of Christ!'

He'd gotten halfway up the hill when the jaws of a bear trap snapped shut around his leg. His battle armor saved his leg, but then the bent tree the bear trap was attached to sprung up. A steel wire pulled the trap – still clamped around Giske's leg – along with the springy spruce. His armor kept his leg from being torn straight off, but he went along for the ride, and with a perfect pendulum motion he smashed face first into the snowy rocks on the far end of the arc. He did not move afterwards.

'Good thing he was armored,' Erikka commented drily.

* * *

As the sirens started blearing and everything went flashing red, Elisabeth felt close to fainting from pleasure. Then, suddenly, the weight on top of her was gone, and she was just riding the aftershocks of orgasm when her survival instincts kicked in. That wasn't just any siren – that was an alarm sounding!

Eirin's instincts had been quicker, and she crashed through the door, her massive, furry shape sprinting down the corridor. She was on fire – in a good way. But, she could tell the fire would devour her if it wasn't sated; sated with blood. Eirin still had enough of a hold on herself to refrain from feasting on her friends – but the alarm meant intruders, and intruders meant dinner.