The Icarus Project (25 page)

“He’s gone rogue,” Jake said, shifting his camera to his shoulder.

“How did Ivan get off the station without anyone knowing?” I asked.

“Ivan was on the night watch,” Katsu said. “He could have easily woken the boy and departed while the rest of us were asleep.”

“What about the tag and the GPS?” I asked. “Isn’t that why you tagged Charlie—so you could keep track of him?”

“It has been disabled,” Katsu said. “My Russian colleague is smart. Misguided but very smart.”

“Rest assured we will do everything to apprehend Ivan and secure the specimen,” Randal said. “West will instruct us on the course of action.”

West squared his shoulders and directed our attention to the map of the surrounding area on the table in front of him. A grid had been drawn on the map. “I’m organizing a search of the area. No dome, igloo, icehouse, or doghouse will be left unexamined. I’m going to divide up the jobs, and we need volunteers.”

“Ivan couldn’t have gone too far without the chopper,” Kyle said.

“That’s what we’re hoping,” West said. “Justice is going to take the chopper up to get an aerial view and see if he can locate the two of them. We need people to observe what is happening on the ground to go with him.”

“I’ll go,” Kyle sprang forward. Karen nodded.

“Do we know how Ivan and Charlie are traveling?” Dad asked.

“A snowmobile is missing from the shed. We think Ivan took it and went to town.” West pointed out a route on the map. “I think Ivan was hoping to catch a ride to the airport from there.”

“Then we need a ground search, too,” Dad said.

West nodded. “We have two sleds.”

Hands shot up in the air. West pointed, delegating jobs.
“Jake will take one sled. And Katsu and I will take the other.”

“What about us?” I said. “Dad and I want to help, too.”

West nodded at us. “We need a team to secure the dig site. You two can take the snowmobile out. I doubt they went there, but we need to cover all the bases.”

“We’ll do it,” I said, relieved to help in any way I could.

Randal patted me on the shoulder. “See, dear, nothing to worry about.” He cleared his throat and addressed the rest of the group. “I will be staying at the station to monitor the progress from here.”

West handed out two-way radios. “Keep in radio contact, people. We don’t want any surprises out there,” he said.

Jake bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Let’s get our Charlie back.”

“What’s next?” Kyle asked.

“We can start by helping round up the dogs. Justice needs all the help he can get right now.” West shook his head.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Justice took pride in caring for his dogs. I couldn’t imagine him needing our help.

“You’ll see.” West strode out of the room.

The dogs were everywhere, running loose around the compound. Ivan had let all of them out of their enclosure. When Justice finally managed to get most of them
rounded up, he prepared the two sleds to head out. Meanwhile Dad, Kyle, and I helped corral the rest of the dogs. Even my new pup, Cinnamon, had managed to escape her pen. After getting a leash on her, I slumped down on the ground next to the hut and stared out over the compound.

“Better get inside.” Dad knelt down next to me.

I leaned back, too tired to get up right away. I scratched Cinnamon’s head. “Why do you think Ivan let all the dogs out? That seems strange.”

“I don’t think Ivan knew what he was doing. Maybe he planned on taking a dogsled into town but found he couldn’t handle the animals and decided to steal a snowmobile instead.”

“Maybe.”

The trampled snow of the compound was covered in boot and paw prints.

“Ivan was desperate to get out,” Dad went on. “He wasn’t thinking straight. Probably panicked and lost control of the dogs.” He patted Cinnamon.

“Or maybe he let them out on purpose,” I said, getting to my feet. An idea flashed in front of me as I stared at the ground. “Where’s his trail?”

Dad hesitated. “His trail?”

“Ivan’s trail. The snowmobile would have left a trail, right?” I asked. Dad nodded. “So where did the trail lead to?”

“West said that he couldn’t tell for sure. Since the dogs
were out, they marked up the snow and disturbed the snowmobile tracks.”

“Exactly! What if Ivan let the dogs out on purpose—to cover his tracks?”

“That’s a good idea. But there’s only one real way out of here and that’s the airport. Ivan had to get to town somehow—so we know where he’s going. There’s no point in him hiding.” Dad’s conclusion was logical, but something wasn’t right about the dogs.

“Except if he
wasn’t
going to town…” I said under my breath.

Cinnamon barked.

“Come on,” Dad said. “Let’s get Cinnamon in her cage. We need to head out before it gets any later.”

Dad and I each put on another layer and suited up for the ride out to the site.

West gave us instructions before we left. “She’s gassed up and ready to go. Take it slow and you’ll be fine. There’s a two-way radio in your pack. If you get into any trouble, just call Randal. He’s here, monitoring everyone’s progress.”

“Sounds good,” Dad said, adjusting his goggles for at least the tenth time.

“The site’s a skeleton, since we packed most everything yesterday. Like I said, I doubt Ivan’s there. Just ride out, take a look around, and come straight back.”

“What do you mean, a skeleton?” I asked, sitting behind Dad on the snowmobile.

“We’ve been dismantling the site. There’s still some stuff left, but for the most part our gear has been packed up. The site has pretty much been stripped bare—you know, like a skeleton.”

It was sad to think we were probably not going to see much, but I was too worried about Charlie to care.

“Enjoy the ride, and I’ll see you two later.” West’s stubbly beard, dark eyes, and broad shoulders were reassuring, as was his hard-as-nails stance. I felt better about Charlie just looking at him.

“OK, let’s find this guy.” Dad waved to West and started the engine.

For the entire excruciatingly slow ride all I could think about was how scared Charlie must be, wherever he was. Dad drove the snowmobile like a turtle wearing snow-shoes. The cold needled through my jacket. I held tight and kept my head down.

Then the domes appeared on the horizon, emerging out of the landscape, silvery as lost treasure. West wasn’t kidding when he said the site was a skeleton. The main tent was still there, along with a few domes, but most of the camp had been dismantled and packed up.

The snowmobile slowed. I saw something out of the corner of my eye. “There!” I pointed over Dad’s shoulder.
In the distance, near the dig site, was a snowmobile. My heart leaped. Black smoke spiraled into the sky from that spot like a harbinger, a warning, or a signal. Ivan and Charlie weren’t supposed to be here. We had come as a precaution only. West was supposed to catch Ivan and save Charlie, not us. We weren’t the heroes. But deep down I knew when I saw the dog tracks in the compound that Ivan had been up to something. He was too smart to make a mistake with the animals. He had a plan all along, and it appeared that going to town wasn’t part of it.

Dad pulled up beside the other snowmobile and cut the engine. Ivan’s snowmobile had apparently hit a large chunk of ice, because the front end was badly damaged. It sat there, abandoned. There was no one around. The site was quiet except for the gnawing wind that howled like a lost dog. I scanned the area. Where was Ivan? Where had he taken Charlie?

A scream shattered the cold air. Dad tensed and I gasped. We both turned toward the sound.

“It came from the tent,” Dad said. “You wait here.”

Was he serious? I was not about to sit by the snowmobile and wait. I crept along behind him, ignoring his order to wait behind. He tried to shoo me off, but I mouthed, “I’m coming.”

Nothing remained inside the tent but a few crates, random supplies, and equipment too heavy to move by hand. And Ivan. He was crouched on the ground, hunched over
like a shrunken troll. The fearsome man had been reduced to a frozen mess, clutching his arms around himself. His face was covered in a thin coating of frost and ice shavings. There was so much snow on his beard that it looked gray. With his goggles off and his face mask pulled down, his skin looked bluish. He’d been outside too long. His eyes were so vacant that at first I wasn’t sure if he was alive. Dad grabbed my arm.

“Stay behind me. And keep quiet.”

I nodded and receded into the shadows. Dad could deal with Ivan—I wanted to find Charlie. He had to be here somewhere.

Dad spoke in a low voice to Ivan. The large Russian’s eyes moved toward him, watched him, while the rest of his body stayed perfectly still. I was afraid if I moved, I would startle the wild beast that lurked behind his shifting gaze. Of all the people at the station, Ivan looked like a strong one, but it seemed the Arctic had taken its toll.

But it wasn’t just the Arctic. I knew better. It was Charlie that frightened him. He feared the winged boy and what he might represent. When Ivan saw Charlie, he saw an angel. He was in awe of the powerful, mystical figure, and also afraid of it. Ivan had reacted to him based on his superstitions.

That’s when I saw the body. It was wrapped in plastic, lying in the hole where the ice block had been removed.
I could see a blurred face through the clear plastic. It was Charlie!

His breath formed a misty fog on the plastic surface. It reminded me of when he was frozen in the block of ice, and we didn’t know if he was alive or not. Ivan had tied him up and put him in the hole that he had once been taken from. Madness. How could Ivan do that?

“Dad!” I screamed. “Charlie’s here! He’s alive.”

“I know. Stay calm.” Dad had seen. He knew Charlie was being held captive. Dad was a rock, the steady anchor of our family. He would handle this. I tried to calm my racing heart, but it pounded in my chest. My body trembled.

“Ivan, he’s just a boy,” Dad said. “Charlie won’t hurt anyone.”

“We must put him back where we found him!” Ivan said. “He isn’t ours to keep.”

Ivan hadn’t taken Charlie back to Russia after all. He hadn’t come to the dig site to hide. He came here to put Charlie back into the ground.

Ivan hiccupped. “He needs to stay right here. Terrible things will happen if we take him away.”

“He can’t go back into the ground. It’s too late.” Dad moved toward Charlie. Ivan staggered to his feet and then lurched forward.

Dad held up his hands and spoke to me quietly. “I’m going to help him get some air.”

A tinge of fear bloomed inside of me. I wanted to get
Charlie out of the hole and go home. Dad slipped his knife out of his pack. I inched closer and drew Ivan’s attention away from Charlie and Dad. Ivan’s dark eyes followed me, tracking my movements through the tent. The star-shaped white scar stood out on his cheek.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“It’s your fault.” He speared me with his gaze. I was shaking with cold, and yet I was sweating under my snowsuit. “A little white witch,” he said, pointing at me. “An old child is a bad omen.” Ivan was scaring me, but I knew I wasn’t the problem.