Chapter 8

8

Two days before Christmas, a reindeer gave to me…

A massive boner that wasn’t an urge to pee.

Nanook didn’t move, despite being awake. Dani slept, cuddled against his chest, completely nude. She’d shifted during the night and gone from tucked against his body to him wearing her like a blanket.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about her doing that.

Horny, yes. He was a guy.

Comfortable, too. After all, she weighed nothing to him.

Confused, though, because he rather enjoyed her snuggling.

Then annoyed because someone farted loud enough she woke and stinky enough they all began to gag.

Charlie chuckled. “Maybe I should have accepted the offer of food other than beans.”

Dani lifted her head, her eyes still sleepy and murmured, “I want to barf.”

Not exactly a sexy good morning, not that he needed or expected one.

He chuffed and wiggled.

“Yes, I know, you need to pee,” she stated, stretching and yawning. She sat up on his belly and reached for her clothes, shivering and complaining as she tugged on the cold garments, hiding her chilly skin. A pity because her naked body did make his morning brighter.

“I miss my stove. I keep my gear on a rack by it,” she commented.

Nanook shifted, keeping his arm in his lap, lest his semi erection be noticed. “The girls like to sleep with their stuff under the covers.”

“Because they’re smart cookies.” Dancer moved away to join Kira, who divvied out some rations. Even Charlie lined up for some of her homemade nut cake.

Nanook dressed and mentally prepared himself for the day ahead. Basically, he cleared his mind of the reindeer who kept trying to consume it.

There was nervous laughter and joking as they readied to leave. No one knew what to expect once they reached the North Pole. If they made it.

The chopper didn’t appear to be in great shape. Duct tape on the body. Some bulky welded patches. A few knicks in the rotor blades.

Charlie saw him looking and sauntered close, hitching his pants. “She might not look pretty, but she’s dependable.”

“If you say so.” Hard to take the man seriously, given his home appeared just as derelict.

“How do we get it outside?” he asked, eyeing the rusty hangar door that appeared sealed by ice to the floor.

“By going up.” Charlie pointed overhead. Craning to follow the direction of the finger, Nanook could see the ceiling had a dual hatch, the sections mounted on hinges that would swing down when opened.

“You fly it out of your home?” Well, that certainly explained the mess.

“Can’t exactly leave it outside,” Charlie retorted. He turned a crank, and as the panels opened, snow drifted in. “Everyone aboard.”

Everyone clambered into the chopper, which had been stripped on the inside, meaning no harnesses to hold them. A good thing the door on it closed. People chose a spot on the floor and sat. Nanook had his back against the rear wall and, without even thinking, tugged Dani to sit in his lap with his arms around her.

She peeked over her shoulder at him. “You trying to make sure I don’t fall out?”

“Yup.” Her excuse worked better than his, which was, Don’t know why I did it.

The motor whined as Charlie flicked switches and got the blades turning. Weaver sat in only other seat beside their pilot, watching intently. He’d served in a different unit than Nanook and Benedict. Never told anyone why he asked to be discharged, but it must have been bad, as he often wore a haunted expression.

“Everyone ready?” Charlie shouted over the noise.

“Let’s go save Christmas!” shouted Rook.

The chopper lifted, wobbling slightly, the whipping blades creating a tornado of wind inside the hangar, which made the messy space worse, if even possible.

They exited into the sky, still dark this time of year despite the morning hour. The chopper angled and headed for the edge of a cliff past which the dark and cold sea awaited.

Dani trembled slightly in his lap. Understandable, if this rickety hunk of metal went down, she’d drown, that was if she didn’t die of hypothermia first. The polar bears in the group might survive. After all, swimming in cold water came second nature to them. However, even they would struggle if they crashed too far from shore.

Given the distance, depending on the speed, which appeared faster than expected, it would take them three to four hours to reach the North Pole. They spent that time discussing what they’d do once they arrived.

Kira was ready to march in and get her boys. “I will make soup out of any walrus that gets in my way,” she promised.

Whereas Arnie, the calmer of the pair, stated, “Perhaps a frontal assault should be a last resort. The core mission is saving the kids, not packing our storage room with meat.”

It was Nanook who reminded, “Taking out Krampus should be our primary objective. If we remove the fucker in charge, then there’s a distinct chance the army will disperse without us having to fight.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” grumbled his sister, who was out for blood.

“Where do you think Krampus is holing up?” Benedict asked Dancer.

She shrugged. “There are a few places he might have chosen. Top pick would be Santa’s house. It’s the biggest home in the village and the most luxurious; however, it lacks defense. Which leads me to option two. Gingerbread Hall. The building was created to withstand catastrophe, whether it be a blizzard of the century or rampaging Yeti.”

“Does that happen often?” Rook interjected.

“Not in my lifetime, but I’ve heard stories from some of the older elves. They call 1871 the Abominable Winter. Something like a dozen Yeti decided to raid the village. Stomped a good number of elves. Wrecked numerous structures and almost ruined Christmas.”

Rook snorted. “Damn. That’s wild. What happened to the Yeti?”

“Santa took them out with the help of some elves. After that incident, he created the QUEEFS,” Dancer explained.

Kira snicked. “I can’t believe no one saw a problem shortening their name.”

“What’s so funny about it?” Leroy asked.

Everyone ogled him, and Weaver said, “You don’t know what a queef is?”

When Leroy shook his head, Weaver leaned over and murmured. Poor Leroy’s eyes went wide and his cheeks red.

“Speaking of Santa’s fighting force, do you think we can expect the elves to help?” Rook questioned.

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” Nanook replied. “The question is, where are they being held and can they get their hands on weapons?”

“Assuming they’re alive,” Weaver’s ominous addition.

Dancer murmured. “I didn’t stick around long so can’t really say for sure, but those wolverines that chased me definitely weren’t playing nice. At the same time, the quick glimpse I got while flying away showed the walrus funneling the elves into Gingerbread Hall.”

“If they’re keeping them prisoner in the hall, expect it to be heavily guarded,” Nanook rumbled.

“All of this chatter isn’t really helping.” Leroy joined the conversation. “Quite honestly, we can’t make any kind of plans until we know the actual situation. Once we reach the North Pole, I’ll fly over the village and do some reconnaissance. Once we know where Krampus is placed, along with troops and hostages, we’ll be able to properly plot.”

The snow goose had a point. Anything they decided now could change once they got paws on the ground.

Thump .

A minor impact had Kira shouting to Charlie, “What was that?”

“Bird. Flew right into me,” their pilot yelled back.

Surprising, since it had to fight the wind from the rotors. Nanook thought little of it until the second and third impact. He slid Dancer to the side and plodded carefully to the cockpit. “What’s happening?”

Charlie concentrated on flying but muttered, “More birds. Starting to think we’re in the way of a migratory flock.”

Unlikely, seeing as how they were close to the North Pole and seasonal birds would have long migrated.

“Any way you can see what’s happening outside?” Nanook asked. The sky remained pitch-black, and Charlie had to guide using his navigational instruments.

“Rook, throw on the flood light.”

Rook leaned forward and toggled a switch. A bright beam of light shot from the nose of the chopper, illuminating the space in front of them.

A space filled with birds.

Dozens, hundreds. Hard to count given the number of bodies being flung about, their wings caught in the draft caused by the chopper. The only clear thing?

“They’re aiming for us,” Nanook stated.

“Aye, they are,” Charlie grunted. “Everyone, hold on tight. I’m gonna try and get us out of their path.”

Nanook braced his legs and held the back of the pilot seats as Charlie tilted the whirly bird to the left and dropped them below the flock.

“That ought to do it,” Charlie announced just as bird guts hit the windshield. More chunks coated the glass as the flock followed, suicide diving at the chopper from above.

“What in the cold Arctic Sea are they doing?” Charlie huffed. “They ain’t acting normal.”

Indeed, they weren’t. The humming blades began to whine as more and more birds threw themselves at the chopper. making it wobble.

“How far still? Nanook asked. They’d been flying for some time now.

“Not far,” Charlie grunted. “Shore’s still a few hundred yards.”

Close, but not close enough.

Charlie fought to keep the chopper steady, but they wobbled. The birds kept bombing, some of them smashing into the windshield, hard enough it began to crack.

“Hold on, baby,” Charlie pleaded. “You got this. Just a little farther.”

A prayer dashed to pieces as the birds managed to jam the blades. The motor whined, but the rotor stopped turning. Without the spinning blades to keep them aloft, there was only one possible outcome.

They plummeted, and Nanook yelled, “Shift!” Because their human shapes would never withstand the impact and cold.

A tight space got even worse as the bears burst out of their clothes. Weaver chose to be smart. He slid open the door, letting in cold air before he leaped, changing into his bear midair.

A chonky polar-ized Kira jumped next, Arnie right behind her. They were close enough to the water the jump wouldn’t hurt, and they could swim. Leroy turned into his snow goose and flapped away, the rest remained in the chopper when it hit the water, including a doe-eyed Dani.

Nanook shifted as the icy cold sea surged into the chopper, and he looked for his reindeer.

She’d made it out of the sinking helicopter and splashed around, trying to not get sucked down. Nanook dove under her and gave her a shove in the direction of shore. Or so he hoped. Their only light source sank, and once it died, they’d truly be in the dark.

A body brushed by him, a caribou—but not Dani—telling Nanook that Charlie had made it out. He couldn’t see who else was in the vicinity. Kira and Arnie would be fine. As would Rook and Weaver. Hopefully Gertie, a musk ox, and Felicia, their snow fox, could swim to shore. Nanook could only handle one person per rescue, and he chose Dani.

Her spindly legs fluttered in the water, a water so frigid even he felt it. He bumped under her, which caused her to thrash in panic. To show her he meant to help and wasn’t a predator looking to eat, he bobbed up alongside her, a faint bear face in the scarce visibility.

She bleated.

He rumbled and dove under again. He had no good way of holding her, not in their current shapes. Therefore, he did what he could to keep her afloat and heading in the direction of shore. They were within sight of it when she went completely limp. It led to him submerging and rising under her until she straddled his back sideways. He began paddling for land and had it in sight when a cross-current drew his attention.

There were a few possibilities of the source. Curious seals. Easy enough to scare off. A walrus, which could be trickier, given their weight and tusks. In this case, the culprit surfaced ahead of him, or the tip of its horn a least.

A narwhal.

People coined them the unicorns of the sea. They weren’t that cute. They could stab and stun with their single tusk and weren’t friendly one bit. Then again, polar bears were known to eat them. In his defense, they tasted delicious.

The narwhal passed under him again, taunting and acting out of the norm. Usually, their species would flee at the sight of a polar bear. This one, however, seemed to want something. Given their carnivore diet, he could only assume it saw Dancer as a delicious meal.

Not today.

He kept swimming, hoping to reach shallow water and lose the whale.

Didn’t happen. The tip of its horn rose suddenly under him, stabbing at his belly. He threw himself sideways, so it grazed along his ribs instead of penetrating. However, in avoiding being impaled, he dropped Dancer, and she began to sink.

Shit. He headed under to grab her, his mouth grabbing her by a short horn and hauling her back to the surface. He’d no sooner cleared her head than the narwhal returned, the tunneling pressure of the water his only warning.

He released Dancer to whirl and clasp the horn as it neared. He grabbed hold and the narwhal didn’t like it one bit. It shook its head, trying to dislodge him. As if Nanook had such a weak grip. His clawed hind feet dug into the whale’s back, and he added his teeth to the horn, holding it tight. As he pulled on the protruding appendage, his paws braced, giving him the leverage needed to tear the bony protrusion free from the narwhal’s head.

It thrashed, and he let go, moving away from the bloody water that would draw scavengers. He swam back towards where he’d last seen Dancer. Sunken again. He dove under and kicked, instinct more than anything guiding him to the sinking reindeer.

Once more, he got under her frame and used his body to lift, propelling upward, with her balanced on his back. He crested the sea and kicked hard for shore. Kept swimming until his feet touched the icy land.

He would have liked to rest. To collapse and relax for a moment after that ordeal. However, Dani had gone past the point of shivering. She wheezed weakly on the icy beach, hypothermia setting in.

Therefore, much as he’d like a break, he couldn’t have one. Instead, he went to work building a shelter rather than go looking for survivors of the crash.

And when he couldn’t exactly build a fire to keep her warm once it was done, he did the only thing he could think of with the shivering, wet reindeer. Draped her over his body like a blanket.