Gabriel Hunt - Hunt Beyond the Frozen Fire

“This is Rue Aparecido,” Gabriel said, just to have something to say.

“Oh, we know Rue here,” Nils said. “We know her very well.”

Rue blew the Yeti a jaunty kiss and went to start unloading their gear.

So, tell me, Gabriel was suddenly tempted to ask, has she slept with everyone on the team? But he kept the thought to himself.

“Nils Engen worked with my father at the ComNet research station,” Velda said, leaning close but still shouting to be heard. “He’s been on the ice for fifteen years, ten of them at or near Pole. He’s agreed to be our guide.”

“Good,” Gabriel said, grabbing his pack and slinging it up on his shoulder. “Glad to have you, Nils.”

When they had all gathered their gear and bid Speedo their hollered good-byes, Nils led them past the edge of the dome to a battered Spryte snowcat that looked like a rusty orange shoe box on wide tank treads. The driver was a grim woman in a gray parka that Nils introduced as Skua. She didn’t speak a word for their entire journey.

The Spryte was turtle slow, had no real suspension of any kind and was both horrifically noisy and foul smelling, belching plumes of toxic exhaust that wafted back into the badly insulated cab. The tiny, slot like side windows quickly iced up, making them pretty much useless. The ice over which they traveled was scored with windblown ridges that bounced and rattled their frozen bones. Millie hit his head against the roof so many times he wondered aloud if he shouldn’t have worn a helmet.

Their first view of the research station out the front windshield made it look like a beer can lying discarded and half buried on the featureless ice of the vast Polar Plateau. The only other visible landmark was the distant hump of Pole Station to the east. No mountains, no glaciers, nothing for the eye to focus on but miles and miles of flat white below and flat blue above. The altitude made breathing feel like doing push-ups. The bone-dry wind that came whistling in was even more vicious, full of knives and the promise of frostbite, hypothermia and death. The vast emptiness made Gabriel feel small and fragile, and he thought even men like Nils and Millie must find it humbling.

“Velda!” a tiny, plump figure cried, appearing in the doorway of the beer can as the snowcat slowly ground to a halt. Any human features were buried under layers of down and goggles, but the voice sounded female. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Elaine,” Velda said, stepping forward to embrace the shorter woman. “How are you managing out here?”

“We’re doing okay,” she replied. “We were supposed to get a new fish in to winter-over, but I guess he failed his pych eval, so it’ll just be the three of us this year.” She paused, then gripped Velda’s gloved hand. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

There was a long windy minute of awkward silence. The cold was rapidly becoming excruciating, a sensation more of pain than of temperature.

“You idiots are welcome to say out here sunbathing,” Skua said, piping up for the first time. “I’m going in.”

“Come on,” Elaine said. “Let’s get you kids warmed up.”

Chapter 8

The inside of the tiny research station looked and smelled like a college dorm. In the main living area there was a random scattering of cheap, questionable furniture. Cartoons and sketches and photos torn from magazines were thumbtacked to the walls. A green lava lamp stood next to a big-screen TV that was hooked up to an Xbox. A heavy funk of armpits and fried food hung in the air alongside a lingering hint of marijuana smoke. Skua had swiftly retired to unseen private quarters, but with the six of them standing there, the narrow room felt like a rush-hour subway car. Taking their parkas off was a major challenge in the cramped space, all awkward elbows and bumping into one another. Millie could barely move without sticking his elbow in someone’s face or cracking his head against one of the metal spines supporting the roof. There was one small couch and a sad, broken-down recliner, meaning even if three of them squeezed onto the couch, two people would still have nowhere to sit. The low curved ceiling just added to the claustrophobia. Gabriel couldn’t imagine living like this for months at a time, especially during the sunless winter, when spending time outside was even less of an option.

Once out of her gear, Elaine revealed herself to be a plump, light-skinned black woman in her early fifties with dreadlocked white hair and a scattering of dark freckles across her round face. Stripped of his bulky down, Nils was less of a Yeti than a gangly stork. His blond thinning hair was pulled back into a wispy ponytail and the goggles were replaced by round, wire-rimmed glasses. He was missing two-thirds of his right ring finger and all of the pinkie. Even though the big Swede had to be close to seven feet tall, he seemed entirely comfortable with the low ceiling, crouching instinctively and gracefully as he moved through the cramped space.

“I’ll mix us up some hot chocolate,” Elaine said. “Nils, why don’t you bring in a couple more chairs from the mess hall?”

The two researchers left the room and Gabriel sat down in the recliner, wondering if this whole expedition really had been a mistake after all. He looked over at Velda, who was standing at the far end of the room with her arms wrapped around herself, her hazel eyes distant. Maybe Michael had been right. He wasn’t always, but he did have a good nose for futility.

When Nils returned with a spindly folding chair under each arm, he motioned for Gabriel to stand.

“It’s Elaine’s week for the recliner,” Nils said apologetically, handing a folding chair out to Gabriel. “We rotate on a weekly basis so that everyone is allowed fair and equal usage. Short-term visitors are not included.” He pointed to a hand-drawn chart on the wall labeled RECLINER SCHEDULE. “You may laugh, but we need these kinds of rules out here. It’s the only way to winter-over without murdering each other.”

Gabriel took the folding chair and looked over at the schedule. He couldn’t help but notice that Dr. Silver’s name—LAWRENCE—was X’d off each time it appeared. His recliner dates had been redistributed among the other researchers. Gabriel wondered if Velda had noticed this and was struck with an urge to comfort her. But although she stood within arm’s reach, she seemed a thousand miles away.

“Well,” Elaine said, reappearing with six mismatched cups on a plastic tray. “Anyone up for midrats?”

“I could eat,” Nils replied, handing the other folding chair to Millie.

“Midrats?” Millie repeated, and handed the chair off to Velda. There was no way it would support his weight.

“Midnight rations,” Rue explained. “With the shifts up here, there’s four meals a day: breakfast, lunch, dinner and midrats.”

“Well, then, yes, ma’am,” Millie said. “I’d sure love a bite.”

Elaine handed around the cocoa and then took her own mug and the tray back into the unseen galley. Gabriel could hear the beep and whir of a micro wave. He shuddered, remembering all the boxes of Tater Tots they had unloaded from Speedo’s plane, but he was hungry and in no position to be finicky.

“We’ll eat and then get a few hours of sleep,” Gabriel said. “How far away is the site where Dr. Silver was last seen?”

“About three hours in the Spryte,” Nils replied, blowing over the rim of his steaming mug before taking a sip. “We should plan to spend no more than four hours at a stretch before returning to base camp, but we must also bring overnight supplies and tents in case we are caught out in bad weather. The reports are all clear for the next forty-eight but you never know for sure. Better to be prepared than dead.”