Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Except no one can make it to us right now,” I say. “And we don’t know when they’ll be able to. You’d have us in tents on an acre of ice in the middle of a blizzard?”
“It’s the best of two evils.”
“The best would have been if we’d listened to Kingsman in the first place,” Grim snaps. “And stayed ashore where our chances would have been better.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that now,” I cut in. We have enough we’re fighting without fighting each other, but I have to talk some sense into Dr. Larnyard before he actually convinces anyone to follow him into a deadly storm. “We need to find the best way out of our current circumstance, and I cannot endorse leaving this ship in a storm this bad.”
“And I cannot endorse staying on a ship sinking into the Southern Ocean,” Dr. Larnyard fires back. “This is your first Antarctic expedition, Kingsman, yes?”
“Yes,” I grit out. “You know it is.”
“Well, it’s my fifth,” he says. “And I’ll be damned if I let some amateur with a superhero complex lead our team into a death trap.”
“Him lead us into a death trap?” Grim asks, anger imprinted on his usually stoic features. “You were the one who—”
“Grim,” I snap. “Shut the hell up. That’s not helping.”
There’s a brief silence while our angry eyes clash in the tension filling the ship’s meeting room.
“I’m leading this expedition,” Dr. Larnyard says. “It’s my call to make, and I say we take our chances while we can. If the storm worsens, it’ll only make it harder for us to leave later and get to safety on one of the nearby ice floes. It’s now or maybe never.”
His dire words spark a flurry of concerned murmurs from the team, just shy of panic.
“I’m staying with my ship,” Captain Rosteen says. “I’m not saying it’s the safest option. I’m saying this is my ship and I won’t abandon it until there is no choice left to me.”
“I’ll go with them,” one of his crew members offers, his dark eyes anxious when he glances out the porthole to the howling storm beyond.
“I’m not leaving either,” Grim states firmly. “It’s not the smartest option.”
“I’m staying,” I add, hoping reason will prevail if enough of us push for it.
In the end, most of the group decides to stay aboard the ship. Even as Dr. Larnyard and about a third of our team prepare to take a few rafts to the nearest ice floe, I keep watching the radio, willing someone to call and say conditions have improved enough for them to fly in and rescue us. It’s not safe on this ship. I know that, but it’s our best hope.
I watch through the porthole when Dr. Larnyard and his contingency load into a few rafts, insulated in their extreme-weather gear and pressing into the howling winds.
“Fool,” David mutters from my left.
“Asshole,” Grim adds from my right.
“I hope they don’t regret leaving.” I blow out a worried breath. “Hell, I hope we don’t regret staying. Any word from anyone?”
“Nope,” Grim says. “Visibility is shit, and no one with half a brain would risk trying to fly into this storm right now. It’d be signing their own death warrant.”
I hope we haven’t signed ours.
___________
It’s only been a few hours when we hear a shout from outside. Grim, David and I run to the porthole.
“Shit,” I say through clenched teeth. “I told that stupid bastard.”
If it wasn’t for the bright-red jacket, I wouldn’t be able to make out the figure bobbing in the icy water through the sleet and snow. A tent floats not too far from him, picked up and tossed carelessly by the screeching winds.
“Larnyard,” Grim mutters.
“Is he dead?” David asks.
The frantic movement of Larnyard’s arms answers his question.
“We have to help him,” I say, crossing our room to grab my puffy jacket and slip on my extreme-weather gear.
“Motherfucker,” Grim says. “I’m not risking my life for that buffoon.”
“Well, I am. If you can live with yourself knowing a man drowned not even a hundred feet away and you did nothing, go right ahead. Not me.”
“King, you can’t,” David says, grabbing me by the arm. “You gonna die for that idiot?”
“We have to try. At least let’s talk to the captain to see what he says.”
Captain Rosteen already stands at the railing, his grip white-knuckled as he holds on against the wind.
“What can we do, Cap?” I ask, tugging the woolen toboggan lower over my ears.
He shakes his head, resignation in his eyes. “Someone would have to go out in that to get him.” He tilts his head toward the roiling waves, rising walls of water surrounded by icebergs. “I won’t. We all heard you urge him to stay.”
“So lesson learned?” I ask, anger and disbelief warring inside me. “Yeah, he made a dumb call.”