The Sting of the Bee

by K E Lanning

  “I doubt it, but it’s best to get going.” John slung the holster across his shoulder, put the pistol inside, and started packing his gear.

  Ginnie scooted out of her bag, shivering in the cold air as she wrestled into her clothes.

  John grinned. “No coffee to warm us up this morning.”

  They tacked up and started along the trail, letting the animals pick the path until it was light enough to see. Before they entered the valley, they stopped to admire the view. Lowry passed around breakfast bars.

  Lowry pointed toward the meandering river surrounded with a quilt-like pattern of irregular shapes. “Do you see those polygon shapes on the floor of the valley? Those are areas of permafrost and are common near rivers. The danger of permafrost is where the frozen soil thaws under the surface and gets washed away, with a bit of crust on top.”

  John said, “I’m assuming we can avoid those areas?”

  “Yes, we’ll cross where the river is narrow and stay on the opposite side of the valley.”

  The cold air deepened as they moved into the valley. In single file, they crossed in a shallow spot, and turned to follow the river downstream, the slow-moving water leading the way home. Brilliant red streaks from the sunrise spilled over the ridge, shimmering across the surface of the river.

  The day warmed as they traveled along the river, and insects swarmed in the hazy air. Oliver shook his head to ward off the biting flies attacking his long ears.

  The air became heavy by midday, and they stopped for lunch in the shade under a grove of trees. Lowry made the coffee they had missed with their hasty morning departure. The animals drank from the river and grazed on the tender grass along the bank.

  After lunch, the day became breezy and conversation difficult as the wind stole their words, and they fell silent on the trail. The sunlight faded behind deepening clouds, and the wind gusted without warning, the animals jigging as sand was driven across the trail.

  At a distance rumble of thunder, Lowry and John looked back, then at each other. Black clouds were building in the distance.

  John yelled over the rising wind, “Lowry, we need to get to shelter. It looks like a nasty storm overtaking us.”

  Nodding, Lowry pointed out a grove of trees down the valley. “Let’s hurry and try to reach those trees before it hits.”

  Lowry nudged her horse into a slow canter and the others followed her. The air turned yellow as boiling black clouds raced toward them, the rolling thunder closer with each minute. Halfway to the trees, the storm struck with fury. The wind whipped around them and lightning ripped across the sky like fingers of a skeleton.

  She waved her arm for them to keep up and kicked her horse into a full gallop. Torrential rains hit, obscuring their view with a gray veil in front of their faces. John felt the muscles of the mule under the wet saddle as they ran, flat out, on the edge of the valley floor. His heart raced as Oliver galloped through the pummeling rain, following the heaving flanks of the horses ahead.

  A crack of lightning hit a scrub pine tree beside them and exploded into a fireball. Burning branches of the tree landing around them, and the terrified animals bolted out of control.

  Ginnie’s mare raced diagonally across the valley—and into the permafrost field.

  Lowry shouted, “Ginnie, follow us!”

  Ginnie turned toward them, screaming inaudibly, the thunder stealing her words. She shook her head in fear. Kisra had taken the bit into her teeth and was running away with her.

  Lowry’s mare skidded to a stop, dropping her nose to the ground. John struggled to hang on as the mule slid to a halt behind her.

  Lowry stared at the ground in front of her. “There must be cavernous permafrost ahead! Jump off, Ginnie!”

  Ginnie could not hear her. Kisra careened across the karsted landscape. Lowry turned Dalal to skirt the dangerous ground and waved John to follow behind her.

  “We have to get to Ginnie, let’s hurry!” he yelled to her.

  With a shake of her head, Lowry shouted back, “This mare is trained to sense karsting and won’t cross it. We’ll have to go around it and pray that Ginnie and Kisra make it through.”

  They galloped up the side of the valley parallel to Ginnie and the mare. Lightning drove Kisra on until she floundered in mid-gallop, struggling to stay on her feet. Then her front legs broke the fragile surface above a permafrost fissure, and she sunk to her knees. Ginnie catapulted away from her, and hit the muddy surface, spinning away from the mare. The mare panicked, fighting against the collapsing ground beneath her, but the shell of the cavern shattered under her hooves and she fell to her chest into the crevasse.

  “Ginnie!” John screamed, turning the mule toward his daughter.

  Lowry waved him to stop. “It’s no good. We can’t take the animals out there, they’ll fall in as well. We’ll have to go to her on foot—crawl if we must.”

  Lowry halted on the far side of the eroded permafrost, with John and Oliver beside her. Rain pelted them as they slipped off the animals.

  Helplessly, Lowry murmured, “My god,” as Kisra whinnied in terror. Dalal whinnied back as Lowry threw a hobble on her mare and one on Oliver.

  Kisra struggled to rise as the ground sank beneath her, but her last cry was muffled into silence as the mud enveloped her head. Inexorably, the cavern swallowed her body into the ooze of melted permafrost.

  John grabbed a rope from his saddle and threw it over his shoulder. They started across the tenuous layer of the permafrost field, with its crust squishy with rainwater. The wind and rain buffeted them as they inched closer to Ginnie.

  John swallowed hard. His stomach twisted in fear at the sight of his daughter motionless on the permafrost. His only child lay there, possibly dead. “I’m sorry, Helen,” he whispered, his fingers shaking.

  Cracks radiated under their feet, and the ground sunk beneath them like stepping on a mattress. Lowry stopped, yelling to John over the wind, “We’d better crawl from here and you stay behind me, since I am lighter than you.”

  John took the rope, tied it around her waist, and threaded it through her belt loops. He wound the other end around his chest and tied it with a knot. “That way when you grab Ginnie, I can drag both of you back.”

  Lowry nodded and they crawled across the fragile ground. The smell of rot seeped upward as they approached the hole. A huge flash of lightning ripped across the sky and the rain pummeled them.

  Ginnie lifted her head.

  She’s alive! John breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t move, Ginnie,” he called out to her. “Stay still, we’re almost there.” John’s knee sank into the ground. “Shit!”

  Lowry held up her hand. “Let me go ahead and I’ll snake across, so there isn’t too much weight on the surface.”

  With a nod, he played out the rope as she squirmed along the muddy surface to Ginnie’s foot. Lowry reached out to grab Ginnie’s ankle, but the ground bowed under her.

  Rain pouring over him, John held his breath.

  Lowry slowly moved forward and slipped her hand around Ginnie’s ankle, then cocked her head back, signaling John to pull them to safety.

  Dazed, Ginnie moaned as they inched away from the rim of the cavern.

  A deep yawning sound came from below her and the surface buckled under Ginnie’s head, tipping her downwards into the edge of the subsiding cavity. Her arms fell into the gap and she screamed, “Daddy!”

  John leapt up and sprinted backwards, his feet sinking with each step. Lowry groaned, struggling to hang on to Ginnie as they slid along the top of the collapsing ground.

  John screamed, “You bastard, I won’t let you win.” He staggered backwards ahead of the expanding fissure, until they reached stable ground. John stood with his head down, waving to them, gasping for breath. “Crawl to me and we’ll go back to the animals—we know it’s safe there.”

  Lowry pulled Ginnie to her and then pushed her to John. Dazed and covered with mud, Ginnie crawled to where John stood, with Lowry behind h
er. When Ginnie reached him, John picked her up and carried her to safety next to the animals.

  John eased her onto the ground and felt her arms and legs. “Are you hurt, Ginnie baby?”

  Ginnie pulled off her muddy helmet and held her hand to her head. “My head hurts, but I don’t think anything is broken—lucky I was wearing a helmet.”

  “Thank god you’re alive!” He hugged her gently, and smoothed her matted, wet hair back from her face. He touched the knot swelling on her forehead. “You must have hit a rock.”

  Lowry wiped the streaming water from her eyes with her sleeve, untied the rope from around John’s chest and rewound it. “Let’s put her on my mare and we’ll try to find shelter.”

  The thunder and lightning had passed, but the rain still poured. The animals stood with sagging ears and drenched coats. John squeezed Lowry’s shoulder as they looked back at the gigantic hole. Poor Kisra had been completely swallowed by the sludge.

  Lowry tied the rope to the back of John’s saddle, came around to Dalal’s head and grabbed the bridle. John eased Ginnie onto the horse, steadying her with his hand. Lowry led the mare through the mud and streaming water with Oliver following close to her.

  By the time they reached the trees, the rain was abating and a few peeks of sunlight struggled past the clouds. John helped Ginnie off, and with his arm around her, found a flat rock for her to sit. John pulled an emergency blanket and a fire kit from his saddlebag, while Lowry picked dry grass out of a crevice. John draped the shimmering blanket around Ginnie and started a small fire.

  “All of us need to change into dry clothes and warm up, before we get hypothermia,” John said. He dug through Ginnie’s saddlebag and found a change of clothes for her. He handed the clothes to Lowry. “Would you mind helping her change while I make tea?” He pulled out the Insta-Tea jug and gave it a twist.

  Lowry helped Ginnie change and re-wrapped her in the emergency blanket, then changed her own clothes. They huddled around the fire, drinking hot tea, when the sun broke through the clouds, warming the rain-soaked valley.

  Lowry glanced at John. “You need to change your clothes, too.”

  He nodded, walked to Oliver, and got dry clothes out of his saddlebag. He pulled his shirt over his head and saw deep rope burns across his chest. He touched them gingerly and winced.

  Lowry turned at the sound. “We need to put medicine on those rope burns, John.” She walked to him, then shook her head as she examined the damage. “I guess Antarctica wants to brand you, doesn’t she?”

  She got out the first-aid kit. “You have rope burns on your back as well.” She patted antibiotic cream on his damaged skin and helped him ease the dry shirt over them. She held up his pants.

  He tugged them out of her hands. “I think I can put on my own pants.”

  Lowry chuckled. Then she dug the last of the chocolate bars from her saddlebag and broke them into pieces. She popped one into John’s mouth, a piece into hers, and walked back to Ginnie and handed her the last square of chocolate.

  John came over to the blaze and squatted next to Ginnie. He swayed from exhaustion and leaned against the rock.

  Ginnie nibbled the chocolate and glanced at Lowry. “You and dad saved my life.”

  Lowry knelt and wrapped her arm around Ginnie. “I’m so glad—you’re a very special girl.” Lowry sighed. “I’m afraid my poor Kisra wasn’t as lucky. She was a good mare, but not the most intelligent horse in the world.”

  Ginnie sniffled. “I’m so sorry, Lowry.”

  Lowry hugged her. “It wasn’t your fault, Ginnie-girl, she’s the one who ran away with you and onto the permafrost, despite your efforts to stop her.”

  “I know, but she was a sweet horse.”

  “Yes, but I’m afraid Darwin won that round.”

  CHAPTER 27

  John poked the dying embers of the fire. Then he stood and stretched with a groan. “It’ll take me a month to recover from this trip.”

  Chuckling, Lowry said, “But the stories you’ll tell when you’re old and gray.” She pointed at the sun, now on its downward path. “I don’t think we can make it home tonight.” She snapped her fingers. “I know a place where we can stay the night and it’s only a slight detour off the trail. Some of the miners built stone cabins years ago, and I’m sure we can spend the night there.”

  With a shrug, John replied, “Possibly, but I’d like a doctor to look at Ginnie.”

  “It would take hours to reach the clinic near the farms. Everyone is too exhausted to travel that far.”

  “My head is not that bad. I agree with Lowry, Dad.”

  John acquiesced. “Okay, and where are these cabins?”

  “They’re not on any maps; besides hunting cabins, the striking miners used them during strikes to escape the wrath of the management. There’s a land marker near them, so let me see if I can get a location on the GPS.”

  She moved into the open and came back shortly. “Looks like they are only a couple of kilometers from here, so on horseback, we could be there in less than an hour.”

  John said, “Let’s get going.”

  Lowry mounted and John helped Ginnie up behind her. With a groan, he swung up on Oliver.

  After the storm, the land came alive in the warm sunshine. Wildflowers and white tufts of cotton grass waved in the breeze. Birds flitted up and down, devouring the clouds of insects lingering over the fresh rainwater. Ginnie laughed as a butterfly landed on her head. John’s spirits rose with joy. They had survived.

  A boiling life force screamed from every corner of this wilderness where humans were just a passing annoyance or a meal. Nature was the master here and anyone who thought differently was a fool, dead, or both. His closed his eyes with a smile. Thank you for not taking my child.

  Lowry turned her mare onto a beaten path. They rode into a clearing and she called out, “Halloo, anyone here?”

  Two men approached and one recognized her. “Lowry! Where have you been keeping yourself? We heard you’d come back and homesteaded a claim.”

  “Hank?”

  “Sure. You remembered me!” He gestured for them to dismount. “Come have some refreshments. You all coming from the back country?”

  “Yep.”

  Cocking his head, Hank said, “That was nasty squall that raced through.”

  Lowry dismounted and pulled off her helmet. “Not just nasty—a killer. We were returning from a camping trip when the storm hit. Ginnie’s horse ran away and fell into a permafrost cavern. Ginnie was thrown off of her, and we were lucky to pull her out.” She ran her fingers through her snarled hair. “But the mare died.”

  “Wow, that sounds like a lovely Antarctic nature walk, but sorry about your horse.”

  Lowry introduced John and Ginnie to the two retired miners. “This is John Barrous and his daughter, Ginnie.”

  Hank shook their hands and gestured to the other man standing nearby. “This is Les. He’s from Lesotho, Africa, so we call him Les.” Glancing at the sky, he said, “You should stay the night—it’s getting late to make it to the homesteads.” He gestured with his thumb. “I’ll open the other cabin.”

  Lowry asked, “Is there a paddock where we can put the animals?”

  “Sure, we don’t have any feed, but there’s a little grass. No other horses have been in them this season.”

  “That’ll be fine. But I’ll need buckets of water for them.”

  “Les can help you while I fix up the cabin.”

  Hank and John grabbed the saddle bags and packs and took them to the smaller cabin. Hank said, “I’ll start the stove heater going. We use meadow muffins. Plentiful in this valley.”

  “Meadow muffins?” John asked.

  “Caribou chips—dried poop.” Hank point to a bin filled with dried caribou poop.

  “Ah.”

  After Lowry and Ginnie settled the animals into the paddock for the night, they all met back at the main cabin. John had to stoop through the low doorway. It was a rough-hewn cabin
of native stone with a rickety table and a few chairs, dimly lit by a candle lantern.

  Les stirred a pot of chili on the stove while Hank brought glasses of water, a large bowl of peanuts, and crackers to the table. In a faint Bantu accent, Les said, “I’m afraid it’s only camp food, but it’s not bad. I made the chili with goose meat.”

  “Goose meat?” John asked, his mouth watering from the aroma. “Smells wonderful.”

  Les turned to him. “Geese are the only unrestricted game we can hunt. The rest are UN-release animals.” He gestured with his thumb to the back of the cabin and smiled. “We have so many geese, our solar freezer is full—it’ll last all winter.”

  Ginnie rubbed her head with a tinge of pain on her face.

  John asked her, “Are you okay?”

  With a crooked smile, she said, “Yeah, but I might want some medicine.”

  John turned to Hank and Les. “When Ginnie was thrown off, she hit her head. Do you guys have any ibuprofen?”

  Hank gestured toward Les. “Les here is a trained paramedic. Maybe he should examine her?”

  Nodding, John said, “Sure, we’d appreciate it.”

  Les went to the back of the cabin and got a medic kit. He pulled out a cylindrical device and turned it on. Shining a light into Ginnie’s eyes, he observed her reactions, then looked at the scope. “By these readings, she doesn’t have a concussion.” With a smile, he laid his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine but take it easy.” He handed her a small vial with liquid ibuprofen. “This liquid will work faster than a pill.”

  Ginnie twisted the top and downed the medicine. She smiled. “Thanks, Les.”

  Les put away the first-aid kit, returned to the table and sat next to John.

  John grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl and asked Les, “What brought you to Antarctica?”

  Les shrugged. “I was an orphan and unemployed, so it was either find a job, or go into a life of crime. I heard about a ship going to the mining station from Cape Town, with the promise of good jobs. I signed up and I’ve been here ever since.”