Arctica 1 ||2 || 3 || 4 || Final

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The thing about the South Pole is that no one's ever truly warm. I can feel the coldness seep into my bones, my body is always a shiver away from being too cold to move another muscle. It makes walking difficult, breathing too - the air is thin and ragged on my lungs, even thinking becomes a harrowing task. And I'll put this down in writing, I don't care if someone in the future will see it as an admission of guilt, but it was probably why I wasn't thinking clearly after we arrived back at camp. I never should have took the equipment, cutting Chloe off from the rest of the world. I never should have left her alone. But by this point my self preservation mode had been active since we first left for the mission, and it was all I could manage to come up with before I crawled into my own sleeping bag, and passed out.

It never felt so dark.

That's something I never thought I'd say after spending nearly everyday in constant sunlight, this was the beginning of summer, the midnight sun wouldn't set until long after October ' I constantly had to remind myself all those days ago, those day when I wished that the sun would go down for a second, a wink, those days that turned contemptuous, where I wished the sun would sizzle out so that I may get some decent sleep. Those days when I didn't give a damn about anyone if only for a wink. Now, now I'm glad it's high up in the sky at all times. Glad that I can see...see if anything is coming. God, I hope so much that it's help that is coming for us.

The 6 hours after our ordeal at the Ross Ice Shelf was a strained one. I woke up thirsty, and damp. Damp is danger, any moisture is dangerous but my body was too tired to care. What was a finger or even a limb if it meant that I could get back to base, get on a helicopter, on a boat, and get home? I'm a long ways away from Ontario, that much was certain.

I dried myself, changed, and not once did I look down at my body, afraid of what I might see.

Protocol dictated that I contact points of authority. Report to them what happened, and what we were facing, even if it meant what I had to say would cost me my future in the field. I think that was why I took all of our communication equipment and hid it in my tent. That way when I slept, Chloe wouldn't sound the alarm before I had time to think, before we could talk things over.

She was only 2 years out of her understudy, her career had only begun, and I...I wasn't ready to give this up yet. I did this even though I knew I was directly disobeying rule # 2: Keep An Open Line Of Communication. Without it, people die out here. I don't remember how many times I've seen it, a simple yes or no that could have saved someone's life; while the information we were withholding was undoubtedly more important.

I kept telling myself this was the right thing to do, that we needed to be clear headed before we made any decisions.

Those thoughts went out the window the moment I opened my tent flap. Outside in the snow, right at the foot of where I had been sleeping - were footprints, hundreds, if not thousands of them, it looked as if an entire procession had passed through. How one person could do this all alone was beyond me. But I could see it from her point of view, it was as if I had taken away her sovereignty, treated her like a child and took away her ability to make decisions for herself when I took away her ability to connect with anyone else other than me. A dangerous feeling for someone, anyone, let alone a woman stranded in the middle of no where with a man she hardly knew.

"Chloe," I called from outside her tent. "Chloe," I called again.

After what felt like longer than it did, "What?"

I was glad she was talking to me. "We have to start getting packed. Leave for McMurdo."

She unzipped the teeth in her tent, "I'm ready to go. If you're not done in 5. I'm leaving you."

I could see the bags forming under her eyes, and the corners around her cornea were bloodshot as well. "Shit. Did you even get any sleep?"

She pushed past me, her pack heavy on her back. For a moment I decided to argue, point out the elephant, but I didn't want to shift the momentum in our movements. So I bit my tongue and quick enough - I got in my tent and stuffed the few things I thought I would need. The trip through the Lewis and the ice belt was about 3 days. Give or take. We would need food, shelter, and...I grabbed my drinking can. The soft plastic was easy enough to grip in the cold and to store when it was empty. Mine was almost empty. I had half a propane cannister which meant that I could melt another liter and a half at most. I groped around my bag for more water, and I found none.

By now I knew she could hear me outside, scrummaging, thinking, knowing where the water had been stored. Most of it had been in the crawler, the rest of our provisions were stowed in London's tent. A tent where Chloe's footprints had been all over. Before I thought she was only looking for the equipment, but now I knew better.

"I'm afraid," she said as I exited my tent. Her arms crossed, "I'm not stupid."

"Chloe."

"Shut up." She threw her bag into the crawler. I could see it wiggling, straining against the straps as it was gorged with liquid on the inside.

"I was trying..."

She rounded on me, "You think I don't know what you were trying to do?" She took a step toward me, it felt as if I had been pushed. "You didn't think that we read the same handbooks? Face the same consequences? What did you think that this was a-"

"I'm sorry." I held out my hands, "Look. I'm sorry. I was scared. And, and I was tired. I didn't know what to do. All I knew when we got back was that, was that I needed to rest." I didn't mean to change the subject, "Did you get any sleep?"

"At least now we can tell them back at the station our radio wasn't working. And if they don't believe that, you can tell them how you stopped me from contacting headquarters."

"Fine."

"Fine is right."

I paused, "Should we contact them now?"

She looked at me, "If we contact them before the point of no return, they might want us to turn back. And I am not staying here for another second."

"Agreed." I hesitated, "What do we tell them about London?"

"We tell them how he died. The drill didn't clip in properly, and...and there was an accident." For a second I saw the look of the old Chloe, the kind and caring Chloe in her eyes, but it disappeared quickly enough.

"What about the blood?"

"Without proper evidence, they might hold us, and blame it on spring madness. Extreme sun exposure affecting our brains." She looked at me, "We'll never stand a chance," she chewed on her lower lip, "I say we hand it off to the lab. Let them take a look at it. If they report anything abnormal-"

"It'll be someone else's problem."

"They'll stand a better chance at convincing them than us."

We looked at each other silently and agreed between ourselves.

"Let's go."

I nodded and climbed into the crawler. My hand paused for a second as I held the key.

"What?"

I turned to her, "What if it doesn't start up?"

"Don't say that."

I turned the key and prayed. The engine began clicking, sputtering and gurgling as the ignition coils zapped the petrol in the cylinder, trying to light. The "kekeke" of the starter beginning to sound like a sickening laugh. After several tries, it finally gurgled, letting a plume of black smoke out of the rear as she groaned to life. The cabin shook slightly as I put her into gear. There was nothing but an endless horizon of ice and snow in every direction as we pulled out into the open. I used to joke that God had forgotten his paintbrush here.

Chloe laughed, it was the first sign of the tension between us cutting since I woke up. It was a mixture of giddiness and relief. Infectious enough for me to smile through my teeth. "We're getting out of here," I said aloud.

She laughed again, "Damn. You don't know how scared I was when I found all of the equipment gone," as she flipped through the dials. The sense of routine beginning to put us both at ease.

"You don't know how scared I was trying to leave that tent," I told her.

"Fuck, this place does weird things to you, don't it?"

"Yeah," I adjusted our navigation, "It'll take us about 3 days to get to base. What about those footprints," I chided.

She laughed, "I almost peed a little when I saw them."

I could feel the smile disappearing from my face, the tightening around my heart. I could tell Chloe noticed, because suddenly she looked scared too. "I thought they were..."

"No."

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*

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We had been driving for nearly 9 hours, several times we had to put the arm down on the crawler. The arm was a flat panel with an inflatable tube filled with sensors that extended about 8 meters in front of the bumper to test the areas ahead for crevasses. Falling through one in the crawler would surely mean death. Getting stuck, the same.

Several hours ago I somehow managed to convince Chloe that I wouldn't murder her in her sleep, and she was finally dozing off. Her head pressed against the sidebar and her legs propped against her chest. I could see her breath fogging the glass window even though the heat pump from the engine bay ' porting through the front dash, was keeping the cabin fairly warm, warmer than usual I'd say.

This had been our first expedition together, and although I didn't know much about her, outside of work, I couldn't help but feel drawn to her. She was attractive by all means, but it was more than that. An attractive woman can only hold my attention for so long, with the advent of social media, I've stared at attractive woman unabashedly, while on the comforts of my own toilet.

She began to stir and I quickly looked away.

"This god awful light," she murmured. Shielding her face with a hand as she was greeted by the glistening white scenery in front of us. "It's like my sister when we go to the beach."

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Haunting, is more like it." She reached into a bag, pulling out a container of water. I watched her drink. I could almost feel the soft liquid touching my throat. After awhile I noticed her eyes were peering at me from above the plastic ridge. "Do you want some?" She handed me the water.

My free hand gripped the soft edges and squeezed it down my gullet. After I had finished, "God. Water is so underrated."

She laughed, "Would you like a beer?"

My eyes lit up, "You don't have some do you?"

She reached into the bag and then pulled out her fist with the middle finger extended, while laughing.

"Oh yeah, real mature," I groaned. "Man, a beer would have been great."

She couldn't stop laughing, "You should have seen the look on your face."

"Go back to sleep."

Chloe capped the water and stored it back into her bag. Leaning slightly against it. "Do you think we should contact base by now? Let them know our course."

It was rule number 4: Maintain a travel itinerary with Command.

"I don't know-"

"What if we need help? It's easier to search for us if they had a general location."

"I don't plan on falling through the ice."

"We didn't plan for a lot of things to happen." She nudged the navigation," "Plus. We're past the point of no return," as she reached for the console above her head. I had clipped it back some time ago. The signal cracked over the speakers. "AFAN this is Crawler 2215. Do you copy?"

We waited in silence.

"I think you're supposed to say the call sign?"

"I did."

"I thought it was K-C-4-W?"

"I remember it being AFAN."

I shrugged my shoulders, "Call out McMurdo station and see if anyone replies?"

She choked the receiver, "McMurdo Station, this is Crawler 2215. Do you Copy? McMurdo Station, this is Crawler 2215. Do you Copy?"

Chloe holstered the comm.

"Nothing," I muttered.

​

"This is KC4W, McMurdo, 10-4. Over."

"Fuck!" Chloe grabbed the mic excitedly, "McMurdo. This is Crawler 2215. We're traveling through the Ross Ice Shelf, coordinates negative 84, negative 123. Following the Hulbe line back to base. Over."

"Breaker, breaker. This is Expedition 7. Chloe is that you? Over."

She turned to look at me, "I think it's Simon?"

"Chloe, what's going on? You're about 130 kilometers away from us. Shouldn't you be back at camp?"

"Simon. We're heading back to McMurdo. There's been an accident. London...London's dead."

There was a long pause.

"This is McMurdo. Crawler 2215. Please repeat. Are you in distress? Over."

"Yes! We are heading back to the station." She pauses. "Over."

Another long pause.

"Chloe. This is Simon. We've departed from P-99 and nearing U.S. core site three-eighty-five. We should rendezvous at negative 78, negative 170. Over."

I looked at Chloe and saw her beaming. This was great news. We were traveling. We were meeting up with other members of our team. We were heading back to base together.

"Sounds great Simon. From our coordinates it looks like we're 18 or so hours out. Over."

"This is McMurdo. We will prepare for your joint arrival. Medical team will be on standby. Over."

I stretched my neck. Wiggled my toes. And found new grip on the steering.

We were going to make it.

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*

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Over the next few hours we would sporadically hear updates from Simon's crew or directly through McMurdo. Chloe got into gear and began tidying up the crawler, and was back to inputting data through her laptop. And I readily surveyed the path before me, making sure I was plotting all the correct points coming onto my screen. And we were making good time! Everything was settling back to normal, if my lips weren't wind cracked ' I would have considered whistling.

Several times we passed by Blankets: top layers of snow that covered a crevasses opening, but our equipment held up despite my lack of experience. And we made it safely enough. Eventually Simon's crawler came into view. I could even see their tents from this distance, they looked like yellow pyres, signaling us.

"Should we get them on the radio," Chloe asked.

I shook my head, "Let's surprise them."

She laughed, "God it's going to be good to get back with the others."

"The more the merrier," I laughed.

When we had pulled up close enough I sounded the horn. Not even bothering to take the key out of the ignition as I hopped out, the engine rumbling behind me. "Simon!"

Chloe was having difficulty getting out, the crawler was quite tall and she was dragging her equipment along. The look of a scientist back on her face as she was worried about preserving our findings. Even the blood sample she had scraped off my boots ' didn't seem to bother her. It sure didn't bother me.

"Simon," Chloe called. "Amy? Hey can someone help me with this."

I popped around her side and grabbed the two thick satchels from her.

"Thanks."

"No problem," I mentioned. "Hey guys," I called out.

Chloe looked at me, "Turn it off."

"What?"

"The crawler."

"Oh right," I reached over and pulled the keys out. They fell into the ice, "Shit." I looked down the hole where they had dropped. It could be anywhere, nearly anywhere but straight down. I dug a glove into the snow, rummaging around.

"Shhh," Chloe hushed. "Do you hear that?"

I stopped moving, and strained my ears.

Silence.

The sound of nothing was deafening. Neither of us moved a muscle. I was too afraid to even move my eyes, to search the grounds, in case it made too much noise. Suddenly I could hear myself blink. And when I swallowed - the small bones in my ears clicked. I began to hear my heart beat in my chest. The way it strangled itself each time.

Chloe took a step forward and I heard the snow crunch beneath her feet.

"Guys," I called out.

"Simon? Amy?" She paused. "Dave?"

"Where is everyone," I attempted. "Hey," I took a step toward a nearby tent, my hand moving for the zipper all the same as any other day, a part of me pretending that everything was fine, made it easier to unzip. It was empty inside. "Angela," I called out.

"Look," Chloe pointed to the corner of the tent. "Tracks."

I followed them around the tent, it took me a second to realize what I was seeing. They were in the shape of feet, "Someone." I tried to laugh. "Someone's forgot their boots," I tried to laugh again but it came out hoarse and shaken. "They're barefoot."

Chloe screamed.

I turned around and suddenly I felt sick. The hours before, finally catching up with me. My knees were wobbly, but I forced them in her direction until she came into view.

She was buckled before a tent, the flap laid on its side, crusted red by the cold was blood.

"We have to get out of here," she said.

"W-what about the others?"

I reached my hand to the next tent, shaking it. Afraid that it would open, afraid to open it, afraid of what I would find. "There's only three," I swallowed. "In there. Where are the others?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. But we have to get out of here." She grabbed my arm and started pulling on it.

"They can't be dead. Not all of them."

"Come on-"

From a tent directly to our left, we heard a groan. I looked over, the blood in my veins running cold. One of the sides had collapsed and it was slightly opening, snow had already begun piling inside. Chloe took a step back and fell. I saw her hands reaching for the ground around her, for something to grasp, all she found was the ice between her gloves.

I wanted desperately to pick her up, pull her from under her arms, but my legs wouldn't let me.

The tent shook again.

And then something fell out.

It looked up at us, a glacier of blood caked onto the side of his face.

"Shit." I tried to find my bearings, "Dave. Are you okay?"

He shook his head, his voice groggy. I couldn't make out what he was saying as I pulled him to his feet. His wound had frozen shut.

"What happened," he asked.

"I don't know man. We just got here and..."

"Where are the others?" His head suddenly dancing on his neck as he swiveled back and forth. "Something came at us. It ran me right over. Oh god." His eyes set on the tent where we had found the other bodies. "Oh god. No." He reached out his hand. "Tiffany. Amy?"

"Where's Simon," Chloe asked.

"I think she's still breathing," Simon knelt into the tent. "Patrice. Patrice!" Dave motioned for me, "Help me with her. I think she's still alive."

I wish I could have said I rushed over quickly. But I didn't.

When I got to his side and peered into the tent. I could see clearly for the first time, their faces were torn. Tiffany's jaw was hanging open and her eyes were rolled back ' the thin mucus on them long frozen in place. But it was their stomachs. They had been ripped open. Gutted like fish intestine on the ground.

That made me throw up.

I heard it splatter on the ground as it left my mouth. Thick like stew, it began layering on the snow as it hardened.

"Jesus Christ," Dave said, "Get a hold of yourself."

I wiped my mouth, "Why did they. What happened."

By now Chloe had helped Dave pull Patrice out of the tent. There was a gash in her stomach but it wasn't serious, at least not compared to the thing forming on the side of her head. It bubbled, likely filled with blood. A hematoma, some part of me remembered.

"Let's get her into the crawler," Chloe said. Then she turned to look at me, "We have to call McMurdo."

I nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll get on that." I rushed to the Crawler and got my hands on the radio.

"McMurdo. AFAN. Shit I don't know. Shit. KCWA four three two. I don't. McMurdo! We need help. This is Crawler 2215. We are in need of assistance. Over."

After a second's hesitation, "This is McMurdo. Please state your emergency. Over."

"We have three dead." I let it die. "Two dead. And two injured. One of them in need of immediate medical. Another...another missing. Over."

"We can send an air drop to your location. Please confirm. Negative 78. Negative 170. Over."

"Yes! We have joined with Simon's team. Over."

"Stand by 2215. Over."

Chloe ripped the transmitter out of my hand, "McMurdo. We are not waiting for the arrival unit. Tell it to meet us on our course. We are heading back to McMurdo. Now!"

"Negative 2215. It'll be against protocol-"

"I don't give a shit about protocol!" She slammed the receiver down and turned the dial until it clicked off.

"What are you doing," Dave asked. He was still several meters away, "What's going on," standing over Patrice.

Chloe looked at me then back at, "Dave. Listen. There's something. I don't know. There's something, fuck. There's something in the ice."

I could see Dave shaking his head, his eyes closing, his demeanor in full disbelief as his mouth hung half open when it hit him. Took him right off his feet. It moved so fast and blended into the snow perfectly that it was difficult to see, even more difficult to make sense with my eyes when it started stomping the ground where Patrice laid, for the snow came up like smoke as I see parts of her stamped out in the ice.

That's when I ran. I ran as fast as I could, the ground slipping before me as the world turned upside down and I hit my head hard against the ground. If it weren't for Chloe, I would have never made it into the Crawler.

My head was still spinning when we took off. I could hear Chloe's panicked breathing as she kept looking behind us. I came in and out a few time, my vision distorted, it was like looking at snapshots, a strobe light in a dark room. When I was finally able to gather enough sense to fill a sentence, I looked over at Chloe who had a death grip on the wheel. Her exposed fingers beginning to blacken at the tip as she drove. They were covered in snow, and so were the keys.

"Chloe."

She jumped in her seat, "Fuck. You're okay?"

I shook my head, "I feel like shit."

She looked back again.

"Did we get away," I asked bleakly.

"I think so. I mean. I don't know. But I think so."

"What was that thing?"

"I don't know." She looked at me and then leaned in close enough for me to hear, "But did it look to you as if it came back for Patrice? To finish her off? Like. It didn't even want Dave. He was just in the way. The way that thing tossed him. But it ripped into her stomach. Pulled out her guts and crushed them. Did it, look like that? To you? Did it?"

And I didn't want take solace in this, but I found some comfort, as we kept driving into the endless white snow, that if it was only killing women. Then maybe I was safe.

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S