In this thrilling adventure, Rick and Scotty travel up to Hudson Bay as guests of the Canadian Wildlife Service to test Rick's new tracking collar system on the famed Hudson Bay area polar bears. Strange events begin to plague the boys even before t...
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Northwestern pulp magazines, popular in the 1930s through the 1950s, were filled with novelets and short stories about beautiful girls, rough and rowdy men, and often the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who never failed to come to the rescue in the nick of time.
OMG! What's happening with Rick and Scotty?
It might have been a thousand years later, for all he knew, but Rick Brant slowly became aware that he was moving, bump-bump-bumping along in a long dark never-ending kind of dream. He was cannoning through an utter blackness, jarred and jolted every consecutive moment, with cold so intense that he was shaking all over, uncontrollably, and he could feel and hear his teeth clattering.
But he could not open his eyes, no matter how hard he tried.
Was he awake? Was he dreaming?
He struggled to climb up out of the frightening dark depths to the light of consciousness, which he knew had to be up there somewhere, but unseen hands seemed to hold him back in check. Never for a second did his vigilance waver but, at some bleak moment of desperation, the ordeal surpassed his most valiant effort and the darkness claimed him again, sucking him down with a whirling swoosh. His final thought was that every last bit of him would freeze solid, hard as rock, down to the very marrow of his bones.
Then, suddenly, some far off time later he was again aware of the dark and the cold, and knew he was no longer moving. His eyes shot open unexpectedly with the thudding of fear pounding in his breast, and he gaped around, gasping.
He was in a murky darkness that was imperceptibly bathed by a soft glowing light. Confused and groggy and gulping wildly for air, he jerked and flailed his frigid limbs. They were all there, he could ascertain, but they seemed disconnected somehow, as if only partially joined to him.
Rick let out a frenzied grunt and it shattered the silence. He was alive and awake, and the memory of what had happened to Scotty and him came flooding back and caused his heart to bang at an even stronger fever pitch. In nearly full-blown panic now, he pushed himself to a sitting position, every bone and muscle in his body screaming in protest.
Scotty! Where was Scotty?
Taking in long ragged breaths, Rick looked around frantically as he strove to get a hold of himself. He blinked twice, then a third time, confounded by the lingering effects of the drug. He was almost certain he was in a cave, a small cave, a low-ceilinged very small cave.
He blinked again, trying to brush away the brain fog that was crippling him. Yes, it had to be a cave!
He cringed, feeling trapped in a way he'd never experienced before. Claustrophobic panic gripped him now and he shuddered. It was like being in a box, buried alive, with the whole world pressing its unbearable weight down upon him.
Breath slowly, slowly, he told himself. Calm down, calm down ...
The ceiling was only about three feet overhead and Rick knew he wouldn't be able to stand up. His head jerked this way and that in search of the light source, and he found it, a lantern set on a wooden box behind him. Its soft glow illumined the cave walls, close on all sides, and three lumpy mounds on the ground beside him.
