The Enigma Strain

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The sound of another exploding tree caused Nikolai Alexei to jump. He could hear the men behind him snickering, but he didn’t turn to address it. It wasn’t worth his time, and it was bad leadership to acknowledge pettiness. He grumbled under his breath and marched forward through the knee-deep snow.

Nikolai was used to the sounds of the winter. This land reminded him of home; of the countless kilometers of deep black forest, filled with the same types of animals he used to hunt, the same trees he used to climb, and the same bitter cold he used to long for. He remembered the smells, too — the ripe evergreen scent, the fresh blankets of snow thick enough to halt a horse, and the sheer emptiness of the air.

He knew the sounds as well. The frozen tree sap inside the trunks of the pines would expand, causing the bark and wood to explode. His father had explained it to him on a wolf-hunting trip when he was a boy, and he had often lain awake at night, counting the rippling explosions as they worked their way through the wooded area around their cabin. He knew more about the woods than any of the men he had brought with him, with the exception of maybe Lev.

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