MicroHorror

Luke taxied across the ice as the last sliver of sun cast wan light into the cockpit. The Shadow swam through the station. Everything was sealed for winter, nowhere to hide. Luke gunned the engine.

The Shadow swirled, seeking the crew.

Bouncing off the graded runway, the plane shuddered over rough ice. They’d sledded off when they’d heard what happened to the French team. Luke followed faint tracks.

As he passed the last hut, the Shadow reared.

The undercarriage protested as he kept the throttle open and pitch down. He saw orange parkas ahead as the sun vanished. Glancing back, Luke realized that he’d only led the Shadow to them.