Under The Midnight Sun

by Marilyn Cunningham

  Malinche had never been so close to dying. Even in the cave she had always believed they would be rescued, or they would find their own way to safety. And the cave had been relatively comfortable; they had been warm, had plenty to eat. In fact, she looked back on the days in the cave with affection. She had known some of the most beautiful moments of her life there.

  The nearness of death was said to clarify the mind. If she had to die, she wanted to be as close as she could to Brian. She felt that was where she was meant to be. Where she belonged, even in death. The force of that insight was stronger than her fear.

  She watched him tie the rope around his arm and take a sweater from his backpack. Spreading it on the ice, he sat down and pulled her into his lap. She snuggled against him, feeling his arms tighten around her. She wondered how long they could last, but the thought didn’t bring terror, only sadness.

  His nearness gave her strength. She shook off her bleak mood; she wouldn’t give in to despair. They could last several hours and anything could happen.

  “That backpack of yours is a wonder,” she murmured. “You don’t happen to have any food in there, do you?”

  He pulled her closer, holding his cheek against hers. “A few days fasting won’t hurt you. I’m told thin is in.”

  “You’re not implying I’m fat?” She rubbed her lips softly against his cheek.

  “Offhand, I’d say you’re perfect.”

  They chattered on, both knowing their words made little sense. It served though, to hold back the sense of powerlessness, as they rocked gently in the middle of the ice field, with nothing on the horizon but more ice.

  “What were you like as a little boy?” she asked.

  “Well, I was alone a lot, but I was lucky. There was a creek to play in and frogs to catch. My father probably never actually realized he had a child, or if he did, he didn’t give it much thought. My mother had other priorities. No one bothered me if I stayed out late. Sometimes I spent all night on the creek bank, nestled in the grass, looking up at the stars. That’s where I learned to love nature, to trust it.”

  As I never trusted people. And I still don’t. The closer you get to my heart, Malinche, the worse it will be when we get out of here, and you leave. If, of course, we actually get out.

  “What about your childhood?”

  “Idyllic,” she said. “I didn’t have a mother, and I missed her, but I belonged to the entire village. I had an absolute sense of security. When my dad took me to Seattle and dressed me up and sent me to private schools, I felt like I’d been dumped in ice water. That’s when I really began to miss her, to understand what I’d missed. Her absence left a big hole in my heart I couldn’t fill. I decided to come up here to search for who she was, and to find a missing part of myself.”

  A floating chunk of ice rammed into the one they were on

  “If this thing takes another bump like that,” Brian said, “we’ll both be dumped in ice water.”

  The cold was seeping into his bones. He was still dizzy from the blow to his head; he wasn’t sure he was capable of thinking straight. The only good thing he could see about their situation was that they remained closer to the larger ice sheet, which in turn remained closer to shore. But for how long?

  He tightened his arms around Malinche; in response she pressed closer. Tenderness nearly overwhelmed him, as he placed a feathery kiss on the top of her head. This couldn’t be the end of everything. Not when he had finally realized how much he loved this woman, how precious she was—

  The thought had sneaked up on him, surprising him with its intensity. Yes, he admitted to himself. He did love her. And he would do anything humanly possible to protect her. Right now, that didn’t seem to be much.

  Loving her didn’t change anything, except to make his heart heavier. It didn’t make it easier to rescue her. But he would do it, he vowed. He would see her safely to land. As for the future…

  He wouldn’t think of that now. There would be no future of any kind if they didn’t survive. And whatever happened, he wanted her to be safe and happy.

  “I still wonder why he didn’t take my backpack,” he mused. “Apparently he didn’t take anything…”

  Malinche’s hand went to her throat. She had grown accustomed to the gold chain around her neck, the jade dragon between her breasts. Something had nagged at her ever since she regained consciousness, a sense of something missing, but she had been so bundled up she hadn’t noticed—

  Her hand closed over emptiness. “Brian. The dragon—it’s gone.”

  “That’s what he wanted,” Brian said grimly. “My pack, nothing else mattered. He got what he wanted, and then stranded us out here on the ice where he expected us to die.”

  Malinche stuck her hand in her pocket, and withdrew it empty. “That’s not all he took,” she said quietly. “The envelope is gone, too.”

  “So, he took every clue we had,” Brian said, “and then left us to die.”

  “Why didn’t he just kill us there? Why go to all this trouble?”

  “Because he has to make it look like an accident,” Brian said. “So far, his attempts to make his murders seem like accidents have more or less succeeded. We’re the only ones who won’t let it drop. He’s been able to apply pressure somehow—even the police won’t get involved. But it would be different with us. We’re not Natives, who might be expected to be killed in some dangerous pursuit. We’re not powerless. Your father is a man with influence. If you were murdered, you can bet your soul he’d turn up the heat.”

  “While if I died in an accident, he’d accept it.”

  “Right And my employers wouldn’t stand still for murder either—”

  He broke off. Was that true? What would his company do if he was murdered? He wasn’t sure anymore. They were involved at some level. An accident might be in their best interests, also.

  “If we do get out of here alive,” Malinche said, “maybe he’ll leave us alone. Now that he’s got everything he wanted.”

  “Maybe.” Brian doubted it. Their attacker could never be sure how much they knew; he wouldn’t have left them to die on the ice if all he wanted was the dragon and the envelope.

  But now wasn’t the time for speculation. Their situation was becoming more perilous by the minute. They were drifting closer to the larger ice floe, but bits and pieces were breaking off of their own. At the rate the chunk was disintegrating, Brian calculated only a few minutes remained.

  The chunk was lighter now, easier to manipulate. That was one thing in their favor. Then, too, a momentary shift in the current halted the relentless push out to sea. Perhaps with the shift in the current, the lightness of the chunk of ice that supported them, another try might be successful.

  “Up you go,” he said, pushing Malinche up from his lap. She staggered a bit; her legs were probably as numb as his own, but at least she stood. He rose to his feet, pleasantly surprised to find he was able to stand. They couldn’t delay any longer.

  Again he dug in his heels and pulled on the nylon cord. The hatchet held firm in the ice, but there was still a good fifteen feet between the two ice sheets. “Pull!”

  Malinche needed no urging. Every ounce of strength and will focused on that thin nylon cord and the ice sheet so near and yet so far away. Inch by imperceptible inch, it drew closer. Now only ten or twelve feet separated them from relative safety.

  Her arms felt as though they were being pulled from the sockets. In spite of the cold, sweat sprang out on her face. Brian grunted and gasped, as his shoulders bulged with the effort. But they were moving. Now only eight or ten feet remained…

  But she couldn’t go on. She couldn’t continue the pressure. Her arms were limp, her legs like mush. She had given all she had…

  “Now!” Brian shouted. “Pull!”

  From some reserve deep inside her, adrenaline surged. They were within five feet of the large sheet, but they could get no closer.

  She sobbed with frustration. So close, yet so impossible to b
ridge.

  “We’ll have to jump,” Brian said.

  Sheer terror gripped Malinche, as she stared down into the water seething with slushy ice. Jump, he said. A five-foot jump from a bobbing cork to an ice sheet that heaved and ground with the pressure of breaking up. She could never make it.

  “Hurry up. There’s not much time.”

  “You first!”

  “No. You can do it. I know you can. Now, go!”

  He knew a lot more than she did, then. But she had to try. She backed away a couple of feet to get a running start, then launched herself across the chasm, knowing she’d never make it.

  Brian’s hands cupped her bottom and propelled her across like a volleyball. She sprawled on the ice, gasping, safe by at least three feet. A thought flashed through her mind. This was once she didn’t mind Brian telling her what to do.

  But the momentum of her jump had shoved the ice chunk still farther away. She watched, not daring to breathe. What good would it do for her to be here on this sheet of ice if Brian was marooned on the other? She couldn’t let that happen.

  She sprang up and began pulling on the cord that still united the two ice floes. Desperation gave her renewed strength. The chunks inched closer. Then Malinche held her breath as Brian took a running leap

  Everything seemed to happen in slow, agonizing motion. She saw his boots leave the ice chunk, saw him float across the space between them, just as the ice he had been on splintered into a dozen pieces. An eternity later, he landed on the ice beside her.

  She hurled herself into his arms, and they fell gasping on the ice. For endless moments, neither had the breath to say a word.

  Finally, still speechless, they struggled to their feet and surveyed their situation. It could have been worse, Brian thought. At least they wouldn’t drift out to sea, or drown. Of course they might very well freeze to death. How long could anyone survive in this weather without food or shelter?

  As though she knew what was on his mind, Malinche spoke softly. “How long do you think we’ve been out here?”

  He glanced at his watch, then up at the sky. “It’s nearly midnight. We’ve been here several hours at least. But I’ve heard of people existing for days under conditions like these.”

  “Will somebody miss us and start searching9”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But I didn’t tell the man I rented the four-wheeler from how long I’d be gone. Besides, where would they search?”

  He had a point, Malinche admitted to herself. The ice sheet stretched all along the coastline. For as far as she could see, nothing existed but sheets of ice broken in spots by blue-black water. If anyone from the land did happen to notice two black specks on the ice, they would probably think they were seals. They might be spotted from the air, but George and his plane had gone back to Barrow, and no one else would be looking for them.

  “We could walk toward shore,” she suggested. “Maybe this part of the ice field is connected to land.”

  Brian nodded and retrieved his hatchet and cord. “At least moving will keep us warm.”

  They began walking around the perimeter of the ice sheet. It was slow going, like walking across a field of lava spewed by an insane volcano. Only this volcano hadn’t sent forth molten lava; it had erupted with boulders of ice. They were trapped in an eerie moonscape of treacherous crevasses and sharp spires.

  Still they slogged along; there was nothing else to do. The sun pointed out the general direction and if their strength held out they just might survive. Besides, staying still was an invitation to freeze to death.

  It was impossible to tell how far they had gone, but Malinche felt that she had been moving forever. Her universe had shrunk to putting one foot in front of the other. She walked behind Brian, focusing on his broad back. To look around would be to invite despair.

  He halted, and she nearly ran into him.

  “What is it?”

  “We’ve gone this way as far as we can.”

  She peeked around his body, and her heart sank even further. This ice sheet was large, but it was still an island. Separating it from another ice sheet was a long, jagged crack through which Malinche could see the ice blue of open water. Again their route had been cut off.

  “Can we jump it like we did the other?”

  He shook his head. “Not here. It may narrow a little farther along.”

  They trailed along the edge of the ice sheet, their pace slower as exhaustion set in. But as Brian had hoped, they finally reached a channel that might be narrow enough to cross. Or they could have crossed it, had they the energy and strength they had a few hours ago. Now, although the crack was only about four feet wide, it looked daunting.

  Poised on the edge, Malinche stared down into the water. If she did fall in, wouldn’t it be preferable to this agony? Her legs were numb, her face had lost all feeling. It would be quick. No one could survive in that water for more than a few minutes.

  Brian grabbed her arm. “Stop that! Stop that right now!”

  “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  His lips appeared painfully chapped, but he still managed a grin. “You can’t fool me. And you’re not a quitter. Now, jump!”

  Her rebellious legs obeyed one more time. Whether they would again, she doubted. But she was safe for now on the other side. Brian jumped and landed right beside her. Whether they had gained anything, she doubted also. The new ice field stretched out into the bleak distance.

  “Come on.” Brian took her hand, and she stumbled along beside him. His will alone kept her going. His will and the intense feeling she had for him. She couldn’t tell whether they were making headway, but her legs kept moving.

  With an inarticulate cry, she fell to her knees, unable to move another step. “I have to rest a minute.”

  Brian nodded, and knelt beside her, cradling her in his arms. Her thoughts made no sense. She knew she was approaching delirium. That might account for the thought. If she had to die here in this bleak nothingness, dying in Brian’s arms would ease the pain. Make it bearable.

  Brian held her as close as he could, hoping to transfer some heat to her body. Not that he had much heat to transfer. His very bones felt frozen. He calculated they had been on the ice for nearly twenty hours. They were close to the end of their endurance.

  He wondered if they would ever be found. This ice would break up and drift out to sea, finally vanishing as it reached warmer water. If they were still on it, they, too, would vanish.

  Holding her shivering body as though it were a lifeline, he admitted what he had known since he had first seen her. He loved her. And it wasn’t only physical desire. He loved everything about her, her beauty, her compassion, her courage, her intelligence.

  Had they managed to get safely off this ice sheet, he doubted he would ever have told her. But things had changed. These were the last hours, perhaps moments, they would ever have. And he needed desperately to tell her he loved her. He had to say the words, see her face when he acknowledged the love that had been growing since she had knocked on his apartment door.

  And perhaps, if God was good, Malinche would whisper the words back to him.

  It wasn’t the most auspicious time or place for a declaration of love There should be soft breezes and flowers, maybe moonlight. There should be a future…

  He bent over her and kissed her cold lips. “Malinche, I—”

  She tensed in his arms. “Do you hear that?”

  He heard something; was it his heart pounding in his ears?

  It came faintly across the ice, sharp yips, staccato barks. There was no mistaking it now.

  With the last of his strength, he pulled her to her feet. He could hardly believe what he saw. Across the ice, a black line weaving through the uneven icescape, came a team of dogs.

  Chapter Eleven

  Malinche lay still, not daring to open her eyes, as she tried to get her bearings. Where was she, and what had awakened her? Warmth permeated her body, blessed warmth infiltrating the bo
ne-breaking cold that had been her universe. Instead of the sound of ice crunching and howling around her, she heard the soft murmur of voices.

  She pushed back a rising tide of panic. Was this the way it ended? She had heard that just before you freeze to death, a soft languorous heat comes over you, and you feel comfortable, even euphoric.

  She forced herself to concentrate. She had been near freezing to death when she had seen the dogsled speeding across the ice field. After that, she didn’t remember a thing.

  If she opened her eyes, the warmth and tranquillity might vanish. Yet she had seen the sled coming. Had it been rescue or someone arriving to finish what he had started?

  “I think she’s coming around.”

  The voice was unfamiliar, but not threatening. She opened her eyes. At first she didn’t know where she was, except that she was in a narrow bed snuggled under a fur covering. The room seemed full of people, all crowding around and looking down at her with anxious eyes. She struggled to sit up.

  “Don’t move. Rest awhile. You had a rough time.” She recognized Brian, as he eased her back on the bed with gentle hands.

  Brian. A glow of pure joy suffused her. He was here and everything was all right Although he certainly didn’t look all right, she thought, sinking back down on her pillow. Lines of worry bracketed his mouth; exhaustion showed in his eyes. A large bandage covered his hair. A tenderness so exquisite it was almost pain pierced her heart She longed to smooth the worry from his face, kiss the exhaustion away.

  A woman stepped up to him and eased him back down on a chair. “We’ll take care of her. You won’t help by collapsing yourself You haven’t rested at all.”

  The voice was soft, reassuring, and Malinche tore her gaze from Brian. “Netta.” Again she struggled to rise. “What happened? What are we doing here?”

  “Shhh. You need something to eat.”

  Food had been the last thing on her mind when she awoke, but at the mention of it she was ravenous. There were so many questions, but the steam from the broth Netta was ladling into a bowl drove them all from her mind.