“Oh, look who’s worried about company policy,” my supervisor snorted. “The one who gets drunk and sleeps with the team members!”
There were so many things wrong with her statement, I didn’t know where to begin.
“I didn’t do—” I stopped myself from saying anything more on the subject. Suddenly I was being double teamed and fighting them both off was just wasting time I didn’t have.
Screw both of them.
“I’m going out to collect samples. Are one of you coming to help me or not?” I tried again in a more reasonable tone.
“No.”
The answered in such perfect, flat unison that they almost sounded like the same person.
“No?” I echoed dubiously. “You’re going to let me go out there alone?”
Neither of them bothered to even look me in the eye.
“Hello?” I snapped. “Seriously?”
Queenie glared at me.
“Do you need someone to hold your hand to collect moss, Snow? It’s not like you’re going hunting for food.”
“I’d go for that!” Hunter chortled and they exchanged an amused look. Fury smashed through me as they laughed at me.
“Wow,” I muttered, spinning away. “That’s great.”
I didn’t need them to come with me but it was a buddy system implemented on all research trips, as per the Mirror, Mirror guidelines. I knew it was a way for them to cover their asses but like Queenie had just said—it wasn’t like we were in the deeps of the Amazon. I wasn’t going to get mauled by the non-existent wild animals of Iceland or get lost in the thick of a jungle. I just needed to trek north toward Jokulsarlon for a couple miles and gather whatever samples I could around the lake. It wasn’t like I was apt to get lost on such an easy route.
Not in Iceland.
I cast the pair one last scathing look but they purposely kept their eyes down and I left the rectangular structure, bundled in a parka and fur-lined boots.
The ground wasn’t frozen over yet which was a blessing and despite my anger, I had to admit that it was much being out and alone than with the odd couple inside.
It was the first time I’d really been out to explore the secluded land where we’d been stationed and it was breathtakingly beautiful. The air smelled like it had never been touched by mankind and fleetingly, I imagined this was what it was like to be on another planet or at least to a time when mankind hadn’t completely ruined our habitat.
But this was our planet, the only one we had and that was what I was doing there—trying my best to save it.
Onward I moved, pausing here and there to snap a photo on my iPhone to send to my mom and Alex but when I peered at them, I knew I wasn’t doing the sights any justice.
I vowed to bring Alex back here with me, just her and I. But in a place with a hot spring and a jacuzzi.
Maybe a masseuse.
The terrain was uneven but it was easy to find Lake Jokulsarlon. Again, my breath was stolen as I took in the body of water and I marveled at how it could belong to humankind.
Screw coming back here for a visit. I might just move here forever.
Sighing, I unloaded my backpack and dropped to my knees, looking around the rocky shore for signs of the Icelandic moss I needed for my research.
It was easy enough to find—the stuff grew everywhere and I gathered samples from wherever I could find, using my GPS to properly document the coordinates.
I didn’t feel like I’d been at it very long but suddenly, the little bit of sunlight I’d been granted was fading away and I realized I was standing in the cold dusk as the wind whipped at my cheeks.
It was time to get back.
Quickly, I gathered my belongings and packed them hastily into my bag, cursing myself when I realized that I had no flashlight in my kit.
Dammit!
I found myself cursing at Queenie and Hunter but the truth was, it was my own fault for not having checked my bag more thoroughly before I left. I hadn’t expected to be out so long.
On the other hand, this was precisely why the buddy system was implemented in the first place.
I shoved my ill feelings else aside and headed back the way I came and darkness fell faster than any night I’d known in New York.
Awe overwhelmed me as the brilliant sky lit up with a million stars and I threw my head back to peer up into the night.
There was no moon and to make matters worse, clouds were rolling in, seemingly out of nowhere, blocking the little bit of starlight I had. I’d need to use my cell phone flashlight.
Shit.
I moved faster along the path I thought I’d come but in truth, it wasn’t a path. How could it be when no one lived out there?
The snow started then, the delicate snowflakes dancing down from the heavens to rest on my nose before melting away to nothingness.
Fear touched my heart and my gait slowed to a stop.
Nothing looked familiar. I’d been walking for half an hour and I should have been in view of our unit but there was nothing around me but blackness and snow. Lots and lots of snow.
“Okay,” I mumbled aloud. “I went the wrong way.”
I picked up my phone and checked the GPS but since we weren’t located on any real road, I had no good sense of which direction to take. I’d have to keep walking and see where the red dot took me.
It wasn’t a good plan but the rate that the snow was coming down, I had to keep moving. I knew Icelandic storms could come in fast and furiously and I didn’t have nearly enough to keep me afloat for a few days, even if I could find shelter. I thought of what Magnus had said, that there had been a storm watch for days. It was just my luck that I was trapped outside the day it decided to come.
Even if you’re an hour out, you’re only an hour out. Just turn around and move fast.
I sprinted then, slipping over the freshly fallen snow, my eyes fixated on the phone to see what the grid was telling me. A panic seized my gut as I realized I was completely discombobulated but I refused to stop. I kept having this mental picture of myself frozen in a block of ice to be dug out in the spring.
I was stumbling now, blindly even as the light of the flashlight tried to get through the near blanket of snow piling down around me. It wasn’t pretty anymore—it was terrifying and the thought that I was on another planet, isolated and alone was more than just an idea. It was my reality.
Taking one more step landed my leg into the grip of something out of a horror flick and my screams reverberated through the valleys, echoing for miles.
“Oh shit! Oh shit!” I howled, grabbing my leg. With shaking hands, I raised the phone and almost fainted with shock as I saw the black, steel jaws of a bear trap around the fur of my boot. It had been white lining but the blood seeping through was staining it red faster than the driving snow around me.
“Oh Jesus,” I gasped, forcing myself to my feet through the pain. Adrenaline had kicked in and I was trembling violently but my survival instinct overrode all else and I knew I had to keep moving.
Shit just got real.
If I was discombobulated before, I was delusional now and for all I knew, I was limping around in circles, blood flowing hotly beneath my pants and pooling inside my boot.
I have no idea how far I went but at some moment, I realized that I had left my phone on the ground where the bear trap had snapped me.
A new fear gripped me then.
If there was a bear trap, there would be bears, wouldn’t there?
Would they smell my blood? Would they come to feast on my carcass when I inevitably passed out?
I was barely walking now, the snow sweeping over my feet as I stumbled like a drunk man toward the cabin ahead.
Wait what?
I had to be hallucinating. Ice had formed on my eyelashes as I froze in my spot and gazed beyond the flatlands toward a long, log cabin that seemed to stretch on forever.
It didn’t make any sense but nothing happening to me in that moment did. I was going to die if that place didn’t exist anywhere else but in my mind.
With the last ounce of energy I could muster, I made my way forward, gasping as dizziness overwhelmed me. My eyes were nearly frozen shut and I couldn’t feel my fingers underneath my mittens but none of that compared to the pain radiating from my leg.
As I lumbered up to the structure up ahead and fell inside the door, I had a terrible feeling that I was going to die anyway.
6
Dan
My heart was still racing even as we approached our residence and I knew it wouldn’t stop until we were safely inside and shielded from the pelting snow and sleet pouring down on us.
It was a miracle we’d made it home from the expedition at all and no matter how much time I’d spent in Iceland, I’d never really get used to the unexpected brushes with death we seemed to encounter by the way of weather.
Jim stopped the van in front of the cabin and we all hurried into the cabin, exhaling in unison as we fell inside the door. The equipment could wait on the truck. Our safety came first. Our gear was used to inclement weather, even if we weren’t.
“Guess we’re going to be off for a few days,” Jim commented and there was a murmur of consensus among us as we shook the snow off our burly bodies and hung up our coats in the mudroom.
“I’ll get the fire going,” I said to no one in particular as our crew dispersed in different directions to find the warmth they sought.
I heard someone banging around in the kitchen but suddenly a cry of alarm caught my attention.
“There’s someone in here!” Jim yelled from our shared dorm.