Chapter Twelve
"Tor?" Mick has been brought to the shaggy haired giant. Jesus, thought Mick, and I thought my beard was heavy but at least this guy doesn't have to shave it every day. Or maybe he will, if he wants to score with the ladies. And a shower wouldn't hurt – maybe a few hundred showers to start. Mick looked at the eyes and realized they were deep, startling blue. That Nordic thing again? Well, he's at least got that going for him if he wants to hook up.
"Dad. Dad, pay attention. Are you needing some more blood?" Elliott indicates to the big man his father needs more nourishment. Mick grins. That boy has real potential. Maybe a statesman?
"Dad, Tor is pointing to our Sat phone. He wants to know what it does? There's a little buzzing. I think the cave walls are too thick to allow a signal."
"It will send out a GPS fix on us if we can get out of the cave for a minute. Elliott, tell him you need some fresh air."
But the giant shakes his head. No. No fool, he. But what the heck, Elliott takes the phone in his hand and pretends to speak into it. "See, it's like E.T. phone home."
Tor and his fellows immediately come to attention, spears and clubs ready.