Dark Events, Dark Times: Prologue
Dark Events, Dark Times
Prologue
I stumble haphazardly as I dodge the trunks and branches slashing at my face, neglecting the roots that claw at my feet and try to drag me down into the deep snow and frozen soil. Hearing the sounds of men yelling and crashing through the forest somewhere behind me I try to increase my pace. I'm not slow. I'd be dead if I was. I just don't know where I am, or where I'm going.
The cold doesn't help. I can't feel my feet.
My coat doesn't help either; running through a forest while wearing a 3-inch thick parka isn't a normal activity for me. Regardless, here I am, charging recklessly through some godforsaken forest in the dead-cold Russian winter, trying to keep up with my two slightly better-off companions. As rare as trees are at this latitude, and as troublesome as they are to my escape, I can't help but be thankful for the cover they provide. If this was wide open tundra I'd have a bullet lodged in my spine by now.
An icy root succeeds in snagging my foot. I get up as soon as I fall, still heading forward at breakneck speed, trying and failing to avoid the thin, spidery branches reaching for my face. And then I'm out; the other two standing a few meters away, peering over the edge of a cliff. I jog towards them, my lungs pulling at the frozen air greedily despite the fact my throat feels like I've been swallowing ice. I join them at the edge of the precipice and a jolt of fear works its way through my body before I can suppress it.
Taking my eyes off of the arctic water swirling at the base of the rocky cliff, I turn to the large wolf. "Umm... you do know how to get us off this island, right?" I question as I regain the breath I lost during our dash through the trees.
He grins at me. Or maybe he grimaced; it was hard to tell. "Da," he states as he attaches a carabiner to one of his belt loops, "ve swim." Reaching into his small work-pack, he pulls out a carabiner for me and one for the feline who had been travelling with us for the past twenty minutes. Her name is Klara, if I remember correctly. We both get to work attaching the small metal loops-a task made difficult by our heavy coats and the numbing cold. The wolf, Isidor, ties a length of rope to his carabiner. Each second that passes adds to my nervousness.
We're so close...
We also have a cliff in front of us and some very upset people behind us. There's really nowhere else to go. Going to the left or right would just take us along the island's perimeter. Sure, it might buy us some time, but time isn't all we need. We need to leave.
Now.
The shouts are getting unmistakably closer now. We had a good head start, but that only gets you so far. As far as the cliffs. I'm interrupted from my mental turmoil as Isidor ties his rope to my link. Klara is already tied to the middle of the rope. He begins to walk back to his work-pack lying a few steps away but stops and takes off his parka. He tosses it to me before rummaging through the pack. Confused, I nearly question his actions before the implications of what we're about to do sinks in. He'll fair better without a coat on than I will with only one. I struggle into the second coat, sure of the fact that I must look ridiculous with my round eyes and dull orange, reptilian skin completely engulfed in the hoods of, not one, but two huge camouflaged coats.
At least they keep my body heat from escaping too much.
Isidor hands me what looks like a small rebreather or escape set. I put it on as quickly as I can and we walk to the edge of the cliff. Fifteen meters below us the waves are splashing against the rock wall, foaming and tossing small chunks of ice against the slippery stones. A bit farther out there are large slabs of ice floating aimlessly, and beyond that a sheet of unmoving white coats the remainder of the ocean as far as I can see.
"You're sure about this?" I enquire of him one last time, my voice muffled by the oxygen mask.
"Da, zer is submarine few hundred metres north. Isidor vill lead." The huge wolf puts on his own escape set and with that we're flying through the air, plummeting to the cold water below. The shocking sting of the freezing water against my body comes moments later as we submerge, a small piece of ice hits me on one of my hands fairly hard but my brain is too overcome with the sudden temperature change from "cold" to "holy shit why did I do this?" to pay the dull ache anything more than passing notice.
I begin kicking and swimming wildly, aware that the two others in front of me are doing the same. I can't see where we're going in the darkening, churning water, so I just let the rope direct me and try to keep moving. I already long for the numbing cold of the air on the surface as the raw and pervading chill of the frigid water grips me to my core.
This is insane!
My mind keeps telling me this as we travel further under the solid shelf above us. With every moment that passes it becomes harder to pull myself forward. The constant exertion and the bitter cold rob me of my energy. I struggle forward, half pulled along by the two mammals ahead of me. I can hardly feel anything now, cold included. Nevertheless, I somehow manage to move my arms and legs, though I can't feel them. My mind begins to cloud over not long after, and with it my vision. It's too cold to swim; to move; to think. I fight off the tantalizing clouds of unconsciousness drifting through my mind, but I know it's no use.
I give up.