Free Frankenstein Lives Again (The New Adventures of Frankenstein) by Donald F. Glut, Mark D. Maddox Page B

understand,” said the Frenchman.
    “He’s been in that ice a long time,” continued Winslow, “and this point, there’s no telling how much damage the ice has done to him But back in Ingolstadt, with a laboratory at my disposal, I'll revive him as Victor Frankenstein himself had intended — by recreating Frankenstein’s experiment in the very laboratory of the Monster’s birth.”
    Dupré grinned and clutched his rifle. “Well, even if the brute did come alive out here, we have these to hold him back — if that’s something else you’re worrying about.” He smacked the rifle butt.
    For the first time in a while, the American smiled. “I doubt if our bullets would have much effect on him,” he said, “except making him angry — if the legends about this creature are true. But no, let’s do it my way, okay? Now let’s start chopping at that block before we have to use these guns on some of the local residents.”
    They were like children opening a Christmas present. Burt Winslow and Pierre Dupré chopped and slashed away at the ice. Bits and chunks and splinters of ice flew off in all directions as they worked, always careful not to make direct contact with the being beneath the block. The minutes passed at an agonizingly slow pace as the two men feverishly removed more and more of the confining ice. Neither winced as the small, frozen shards shot into their faces. They were making steady progress in their work, which was all that mattered.
    But even as they chopped, they could hear the sound of dogs, not their own teams, coming from the opposite direction.
    Winslow and Dupré stopped their work and turned simultaneously to see the dark “dots” moving across the snowfields.
    “Pierre . . . now that’s why we have rifles!”
    “Eskimos!” exclaimed Pierre, perceiving the parkas of the small band of men approaching on dogsleds. “Burt, if they left Fairfax to die just for seeing their Ice God..."
    “I know,” grunted Winslow. “What do you think they’ll try doing to us for stealing it?”
    Immediately, the two men stopped their work.
    Winslow snatched up his loaded rifle, just as a bullet whizzed over his head, barely missing him and piercing the upper edge of what remained of the ice block.
    The Eskimos were already leaving halted sleds, rifles clutched in their gloved hands.
    “They’ve got guns this time, Pierre!” called out Winslow. “But if you can keep chopping and get the Monster out, I’ll cover you. Don’t worry, I was…”
    “I know. You were top man on the university’s target range, correct?”
    “Didn’t know I told you that. But just keep at the ice. The job’s almost finished anyway. I won’t have to hold them off for too long.”
    Standing away from his partner, Winslow used his body as a shield to protect both Dupré and the Monster. The Frenchman kept hammering away at the ice while another bullet streaked overhead. Another shot nearly creased Winslow’s fur-lined hood.
    “Hurry, Pierre!” the scientist shouted, lifting his rifle. “That was too close!”
    “I’m going as fast as I can, Monsieur !”
    Winslow aimed his weapon and fired almost in the same blur of motion.
    An Eskimo dropped his own weapon and fell, scarlet staining the pure white snow.
    Dupré tried not to look, even though a bullet might, at any moment, come ripping into his back. He kept on working, letting most of what remained of the ice that was to be removed fall to the ground.
    Again and again the Eskimos fired at the two invaders to their sacred grounds. Fortunately their aim was poor and Winslow was agile enough to keep moving out of their range of fire. He could almost feel the bullets that blasted near him and into the ice block.
    “If they’ve damaged the Monster, I’ll — “ Winslow fired again. A second native moaned and plunged face-first into the snow. “Hurry, Pierre! There are more of them coming! If they make a rush on us or make for our dogs…”
    The air was