“I don’t think they’d do that,” Kevin said.
“We don’t think so either,” Eddy said. “But we need to be prepared for anything, right? That’s what keeps people alive.”
Kevin nodded.
Eddy turned and watched the Inuit men walking further away. “All right, we camp within sight of them, and we’ll sleep in shifts.”
“If we can sleep at all,” Steve said.
“If they do anything strange, we’ll leave at first light.” Eddy glanced at Paul, whose face was somber and serious. “You’ve been quiet, Paul; what’s your take on this?”
Paul looked up. “I tell you, I’ve spent a lot of time in the Canadian North. Hunting bear, deer, moose, whatever—it’s all good eats. I’ve known Inuit before. Hell, I have friends who are Inuit…”
Eddy waited with wide eyes, suspecting what Paul would say next, but not wanting to hear it.
Paul’s eyes rested on the Inuit, who were now fifty yards away. “Those men… They’re not Inuit.”
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
Night came and with it descended a frightening cold. The only way to breathe outside the tents was with a scarf wrapped over one’s nose and mouth so that the air didn’t freeze the lungs solid. It was enough to keep everyone inside the tents and out of the night. Or almost everyone.
Steve, Paul and Nicole had volunteered to tent together. Only a few tents were found, and everyone had to share. They were the first to volunteer. Maybe it was the time spent inside the Sno-Cat on the trip across the ice—they knew they wouldn’t kill each other. Or perhaps Steve’s rescue of Nicole had warmed her disposition. Steve had hoped so, but he knew it was more likely she felt safer with them, having survived the blast of snow, in part because of her proximity to him and Paul in the backhoe box.
None of them were sleeping. Not one of them had even tried. Nicole had spent the last hour fiddling with her single remaining camera, a new Sony Handicam; not the best in the way of quality, but it got the job done. This hadn’t been a complete loss for her. An old habit of keeping duplicates of her most important footage on her person at all times had paid off. She had the most important segments of footage from the dig in her coat pocket—another benefit to filming on small digital tapes.
Paul was busy working on the broken CB radio. From the looks of it, Steve knew Paul’s efforts were wasted, but he also knew that Paul was just trying to stay occupied. Steve was the only one completely and utterly distracted by the five men who claimed to be Inuit. He could see them through the clear plastic window on the side of the tent, sitting around a fire in the open air without anything more for protection against the elements than some animal furs.
Through the air, a light hum like the whispered prayers of monks, wafted into the tent. Steve wasn’t sure he was hearing it, but he craned his head like a dog, held his breath and listened. It was there. The men were humming or mumbling in unison.
After covering the window with a flap of plastic, Steve turned around and faced Paul, his face glowing orange as the electric lantern’s light reflected off the orange surface of the tent’s interior.
“Anything new?” Paul asked.
“They haven’t moved,” Steve said, “but they’re doing some kind of freaky chant.”
Paul nodded slightly. “You see? Not Inuit.”
“Well, what are they, then?”
“Damned if I know. I ain’t no freakin’ linguist.”
Nicole picked up her Handicam and turned it on. She pointed it at Paul and hit record. “This is Paul…” Nicole looked around the camera at Paul. “What’s your last name?”
“Correnti, but I don’t want to be filmed.” Paul held his hands in front of the camera.
“C’mon,” Nicole said. “You’re the expert on Inuit people and we have five Inuit—sorry, non-Inuit—men outside. This is interesting. We should get it on film, including the opinions of everyone involved. It will make for good TV.”
Steve nudged Paul’s shoulder. “Yeah. Then you’d be famous and might stand a chance with the ladies.”
“Hey, I ain’t got no trouble with the ladies.”
“Please?” Nicole flashed her sweetest face, which was unbearably sweet, Steve thought.
Paul sighed. “Okay.”
“Make it snappy. I don’t want to kill my batteries.” Nicole said, as Paul moved his hands away from the lens. “Start from the top.”
“What’s the top?”
“The beginning. Start with your name.”
“Okay. Hi, my name is Paul Correnti.”
Steve leaned into the picture. “And I’m Steve Riley, equipment specialist.”
Paul was unfazed by Steve’s intrusion. It was almost as though he expected it, or could at least read Steve’s mind. And Steve knew he could. Not in an alien or Professor X way, but in the way someone’s next words or actions could be guessed simply by knowing someone so well. Steve knew the right way to describe their relationship was “intimate,” but he’d have to be tortured before he’d admit such a thing. They were buddies. Straight buddies. Saying otherwise would get someone punched. That’s how it was with him and Paul. They were as close as two straight guys could get.
Paul continued, “After a storm of some sort, which destroyed our dig site…”
“And most of the equipment I rented. I’m so dead.”
“…we were approached by five men claiming to be Inuit. In this region, that would make them Inuit of the Nunavut region.”
“Why don’t you tell us some more about the Inuit people?” Steve said with a slight sarcastic smile.
“Okay. They’re the Arctic version of the Native Americans living in North America, only they lived far enough north that they were spared from the attacks of early European settlers. Unlike the Native Americans in the States, the Inuit continue to thrive and have for well over five thousand years.”
“Could that frozen woman be an Inuit?” Steve asked, no longer playing devil’s advocate.
“Don’t know…suppose so, but she was probably around before they had an organized tribal system. So technically, she might not be Inuit. The Inuit people as a whole divide themselves into two main groups; the Yupik live in parts of Russia and Alaska, and the Inupiat live in Northern Alaska and some parts of Russia, but mostly in Canada and Greenland. The men outside are claiming to be Inupiat, but their language is wrong.”
“What if they’re the Yupik guys?”
“Yupik tribes have no reason to come to Canada. Food is scarce and there are enough tribes in the area to keep competition high. Besides, the Yupik language is very similar to the Inupiat. They’re different, but they have the same origins. It’s like the difference between Spanish and French. They both evolved from Latin, so many of the words are the same or very similar.”
“Geez. Let me get your wheelchair for you, Mr. Hawking,” Steve said with a grin.
“Stephen Hawking is an astrophysicist or something, you moron, not an expert on Inuit. So shut your trap,” Paul returned. “I’m on a roll.” He turned back to the camera. “Also, beyond the language problem, there are more discrepancies.”
Nicole focused on Paul’s face. “Such as…?”
“Their clothing is wrong. Inuit people wore fur even up until twenty years ago, but not so much anymore. Of course they still do, but more for decoration.”
“Like a rich lady in Manhattan in a mink coat?”
“Sort of, but it’s more of a cultural pride thing than a fashion statement. You don’t have to be rich to get fur out here, just a good hunter.”
“So maybe these guys are trying to tell us they’re really good hunters?”
Paul and Steve looked at each other, eyes serious, considering the idea. “I hope not,” Paul said. “Modern Inuit are exactly that: modern. They use snowmobiles to travel, dog sleds at the very least, and none of them are stupid enough to set out across the ice without transportation or supplies. They’re smart people; the men outside are something else.”
&nbs
p; “Move to the side,” Nicole said, as she moved the camera toward the plastic window. “I want to get a shot of them.” She lifted the window’s covering and aimed the camera out into the night, searching through the viewfinder for the tangerine glow of the men’s fire. She found the fire and focused the lens manually. A figure came into view, sitting by the fire.
Alone.
“Uh, guys, only one of them is there.”
“What?”
Steve and Paul crammed around the window and peered out. Nicole stopped recording and put her face between theirs as they looked at the single man sitting by the fire. “Where’d they go?” Steve asked.
“They should be frozen solid by now,” Paul said. “No way they could be walking around. This doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t see the others anywhere.”
“It’s too dark. They’d have to be near the fire to see them.”
“I have an idea,” Nicole said, as she brought her camera back up. “Night vision.”
Steve smiled. “Sweet.”
Nicole worked the buttons on the side of the camera and brought the viewfinder to her eye. She pointed it through the plastic window and aimed it at the fire, which glowed white in the otherwise green display.
“Let us see,” Steve pleaded like an eager eight year old boy.
Nicole moved the viewfinder away from her eye and popped open an LCD screen on the camera’s left side. Paul stood hunched over behind them and all three were allowed a clear view of the dark night. To the left of the blazing fire was nothing but techno-green snow and pine-green night sky. To the right, there was movement.
Zooming in, they could see that there was something there, perhaps the four missing men, perhaps not. Nicole turned the camera on its side and pushed a few more buttons. She explained without being asked. “Digital zoom.”
After pointing the camera back out into the darkness, she relocated the dark figures and zoomed in. The image grew in size but became too shaky to see clearly.
“You have image stabilization on that thing?” Steve asked.
“Good idea.” Nicole pushed a button on the side and the image stilled. “How did you know about image stabilization?”
“Spying on hotties at the beach. When you zoom in that much, the picture becomes too blurry and a woman in a bikini looks more like a fat kid.”
“I should have guessed,” Nicole said, as she zoomed in tighter. She took a deep breath and focused manually, clearing the pixilated image as much as possible.
When the picture became clear, Nicole let her breath out and Steve gasped. “They’re heading for the dig site,” Steve said. “What are they doing there?”
“Remember when the old guy, the one with the red beanie—”
“Beanie?” Steve looked perplexed.
“Beanie. You know, a winter hat.”
“Beanie? Ugh…” Steve shook his head. “Californians.”
“Whatever. When that guy asked Eddy about whether or not we found anything before the storm… What if they know about that thing we found? That metal artifact thing. What if they’re the ones who buried it in the first place? What if they go over there and find it in that buried tent? What if they get pissed? They have weapons.”
“Spears,” Paul said.
“Weapons…and who knows what else they have hidden in all that fur.” Nicole was serious.
Steve looked at Paul. “We should get Eddy.” Steve turned toward the tent’s zipped entrance and reached out for the zipper.
Ziiiiip!
Steve shouted and jumped back, landing in Nicole’s lap as the tent entrance was unzipped and flung open from the outside.
“Quiet down!” Norwood hissed as he ducked into the tent, fully bundled against the cold. Kevin entered behind him. “It’s just us.”
“You nearly gave me a heart attack, Buck!” Steve collected himself, but he was hit by a thought. “Hey, you guys think something’s screwy, too?”
“They’re up to something,” Norwood said.
“We think we should leave while we can. While the other four are gone.”
“I second that motion,” Steve said. “Where’s Eddy?”
“In the third tent,” Kevin said. “With Eve.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. “Fine,” Steve said. “I’ll go, but if I find them doing the hibbity-jibbity, you’re each buying me a twelve pack of brew when we get back to civilization. Deal?”
“I didn’t realize they were an official item,” Nicole said.
“They aren’t. We all just figure it’s a matter of time,” Steve said. “Deal?”
Everyone starred at Steve in silence.
“I’m not leaving until every one of you says ‘deal.’”
“Deal,” Paul said with a smile.
Kevin moved out of the entrance, giving Steve room to leave. “Deal.”
Norwood made himself comfortable on the floor of the tent. “If you want to destroy more brain cells with that awful-tasting gruel, fine by me. Deal.”
Steve looked at Nicole. She smiled. “Only if you let me help you drink them.”
Steve grinned wide. “Deal.”
“Deal,” Nicole said.
Steve threw on his jacket, pulled on his winter…beanie and wrapped a scarf around his neck, praying to God he would find Eddy and Eve having sex, though he doubted he would. But the prospect of kicking back forty-eight beers with Nicole made him hopeful for the remainder of their ordeal and the future. Steve plunged into the bitter cold darkness and zipped the tent behind him. He mumbled beneath his scarf, “Please let them be doing it. Please let them be doing it.”
14
ESCAPE
It wasn’t unusual for Eve and Eddy to bunk together at night. No one ever joked about it and nothing ever happened. Ever. Eddy was always so preoccupied with work that he’d be up at the crack of dawn and work until the sun fell below the horizon and the hum of the generators faded. She was always asleep before him and woke up after he was gone. She was rarely aware that he had been beside her through the night. But tonight was different.
Emotionally exhausted from his earlier breakdown, Eddy was fast asleep in minutes. Eve found sleep impossible. The floor of the tent felt hard and cold. Her hair was wet and matted against her face. Comfort was never part of the plan during an average expedition, but even the small comforts of an expensive trip such as theirs were now buried under the ice. Eve rolled onto her side, facing Eddy. She took in his face, his sculpted jaw, rough with stubble and his dark and wavy hair.
Eve reached out for Eddy’s hair and let a ring of it slide between her fingers. “Why are you so impossible to get close to?” Eve whispered.
Then Eve’s mind went blank; her brilliant intellect vanished in a wash of emotion. Eve leaned forward and brought her face close to Eddy’s. She pursed her lips and could feel the warmth from his. Eve paused. Would he wake? Would he be angry? Would he—
Ziiiiip!
The tent unzipped and the entrance was flung open. Eve rolled away from Eddy just as Steve stepped into the tent, a dim battery powered lantern lighting his path. “Damn,” Steve said as he looked down at Eddy and Eve, fully clothed and separate.
“Steve?” Eve asked. “What are you doing?”
Eddy stirred in his sleeping bag and peeled open his eyes. He peered up at Steve. “Steve. It’s still dark. Go back to bed.”
“Eddy, wake up, man.”
Eddy’s eyes snapped open a second before he sat upright, fully awake. He’d long since learned what an urgent voice sounded like and had trained himself to react instantly. It had staved off disaster in the past. “What is it?”
“We want to get out of here, like, now,” Steve said.
“Who is ‘we’?”
“We is everyone.”
“Why?”
“The rest of us talked about it. Those guys aren’t Inuit, and they’ve been chanting all night.”
“All night?” Eddy asked.
“You
couldn’t hear them?” Steve asked.
“He was asleep,” Eve said. “I heard them, though. Figured it was normal.”
“There’s nothing normal about those guys. Listen, four of them took off toward the ruins of the dig site. We think they might be looking for that thing we found.”
“The metal cylinder?” Eve asked.
“Yeah.”
“We left it in the ice,” Eddy said. “But why would they want it and how would they know it exists?”
“Questions for another day, my man.” Steve handed Eddy his coat. “Right now, it’s time to hit the road. We can take that one guy, but if his buddies return and they don’t want us to leave… Well, that might be a problem.”
Eddy looked into Steve’s dimly-lit eyes. “What do you want to do?”
“Tie the guy up by the fire and bolt. They got here on their own. They don’t need us to get out. I know this sounds dumb, but I got this bad feeling, man. These guys are no good and too much of their story doesn’t add up. Leaving on our own might be risky, but staying with these guys is riskier. We know what the Arctic has to offer, but these Inuit…they’re a complete unknown.”
Eddy pursed his lips and nodded. “Let’s go.”
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
Eddy crept up behind the remaining Inuit man, who was hunched over next to the fire, a light mumbled chant still escaping his lips. Steve, Paul and Norwood tip-toed through the snow behind Eddy.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Steve whispered. “We should just jump him.”
“They haven’t done anything wrong yet,” Eddy said, trying to be quiet. “We could be wrong, and if we are, I don’t want to hurt him.”
“C’mon, man, he doesn’t even know we’re here. It’d be easy.”
“No.” To make his point, Eddy started toward the man, stepping hard on the snow.
Steve rolled his eyes and felt them sting with cold.
“Excuse me,” Eddy said in a charming, loud voice. “You’re Vayu, right?”
Raising the Past Page 13