by RJ Corgan
“They were,” Nadia confirmed, “but then Bonnie met a guy in the parking lot who offered to give them a lift. They left about an hour ago.”
“They hitchhiked?!” Kea lunged for her jacket, patting them quickly to find the keys to the jeep, all the while spewing choice expletives.
“I don’t know why you look so worried,” Nadia commented. “Bonnie said she decided not to bring the snow tubes.”
***
The jeep bucked violently as Kea turned off the highway and onto the service road leading toward Svínafellsjökull. “What the hell were they thinking?”
“They probably just wanted to get out of camp for a bit,” Julie guessed as she looked out of the passenger window. “You gotta admit, the ice caves are pretty cool.”
“Yes, in January, they’re amazing,” Kea enthused. “Fantastic ceilings of blue ice, dreamlike vistas.” She wrenched sharply on the wheel to avoid a large pothole. “In August, at the height of summer, it’s a goddamn death trap.”
“Calm down.” Julie’s voice sounded thoroughly bored, although Kea noted she was holding onto the door handle with a tight grip, her knuckles pinched white. “They probably can’t even get across the way the water is right now. Besides they’re adults. I doubt they’ll go walking into the middle of a river.”
“Really? We’re really having this conversation?” Kea downshifted violently, grinding the gears as they lurched up a muddy embankment. “Where have you been the last couple of days? You’ve obviously not been working here!”
“Sorry.” Julie breathed out a long sigh, obviously fighting to remain calm. She let go of the handle. “Who are we chasing down anyway? I’ve got a lot of work I could be doing right now rather than playing adventures in babysitting.”
“From what I can gather, it’s Lexie, Derek, Jon, Bonnie,” Kea paused deliberately for emphasis, “and Erik.”
Julie frowned at the news. “Can’t you get this thing to move any faster?”
***
The month of January, despite the bitter cold and seemingly endless dark, was the perfect time to explore Iceland’s glaciers, for the scientists at least. Kea had only visited twice during the winter, but with the rivers and lakes frozen solid, they were able to reach areas that were off limits during the warmer seasons. Although the sediments and all their secrets remained trapped beneath the frigid grip of the winter snows, to Kea the ability to effortlessly stride across the expanse of lakes and winding rivers, to stroke the snout of the glacier was like approaching a slumbering dragon and tramping around its treasure trove without any fear.
The long nights also held their own wonders. Aurorae flickered and danced across the velvet black skies. It was no surprise that the Norse folk were so deeply tied to their mythology. Above them, the gods fought and warred at what seemed an arm’s length away, their battles flaring up so bright as to light up the darkest of nights.
During her most recent winter visit, Kea had explored one of the largest ice caves in Iceland, formed where an englacial lake had drained away and left a vast chasm. Fractures and fissures bled cracks of light that reflected across scalloped walls and ceilings that were carved out of the clearest turquoise. Around her, the ice breathed with life, groaning with thunder as the glacier shifted in its sleep. To Kea, it was as if she was walking through the heart of a living, breathing blue diamond.
Tonight, even at this late hour, the sun still shone brightly, revealing a morass of shifting silts and stagnant mud that pooled in front of the glacier Svínafellsjökull. The jagged, narrow margin seethed drainage channels, interlacing streams that could burn with their icy touch. The snout was comparatively small, only a kilometer across, its margin less than a kilometer from the highway.
Kea parked the jeep alongside a large body of water ponded by the folds of the moraines. She and Julie walked across the outwash plain searching for the ice tunnel. They found one entrance to a tunnel directly across the river from them, but it would mean they’d have to hike over to the lateral margin and double back again to reach it. She stared into the shadowy mouth of the glacier with trepidation. The overhang above the river was low, barely a meter above the surface, the turbulent water frothing with silt and ice crystals. There was a small stretch of sands where the ice touched the bank, but the interior of the glacier was cloaked in shadow.
“If they went in there…” Julie ventured.
Kea knew that if they really had been that foolish, if they had crawled up the bank and into the ice tunnel… her mind slipped into panic mode, the rush of dreadful possibilities spiraling through her head. The ice underfoot here was unstable, possibly deadly, not to mention the threat of flood, or a simple misstep into the waters. The thought of trying to follow them, of losing someone else, after Bruce...
Why is this happening? Why now?
“…why aren’t there any footprints?” Julie finished simply.
Kea’s mental train of panic careened in sudden confusion, as she noticed that the stretch of sand leading into the cave was indeed pristine. The skin of sand was unblemished, sprinkled only with gravel and cobbles. There was no sign of anyone. She sputtered, at a loss for words. “Then where the-”
A hearty, high-pitched peel of laughter reverberated above the sandur.
“Bonnie,” Julie commented.
The sound came not from the cave, but from behind them, away from the glacier, across the stretch of small rumpled hills, where a small little hotel lay nestled beside the ring road and the moraines. Its simple roof and white walls contained only a handful of rooms, as well as an area with large windowed walls that overlooked the glacier and contained, among other things, a bar.
She headed back towards the jeep. “I’m going to kill them.”
***
They found Bonnie and her buddies knocking back pints of beer at the wood-paneled bar of Hotel Svína. Inwardly fuming, Kea waved hello in response to their cheers of greeting, wishing she had brought the tire jack to wield above her head like a berserker delivering bloody justice. Since there were a couple of other guests sitting at tables, she contented herself with a little nod and sat down at the bar alongside the volunteers. She noted Julie sidling over to the relative safety of Erik’s side.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Kea demanded quietly, her voice cracking in anger.
Bonnie looked from her beer to Kea and then back again. “At this exact moment? I’m having flashbacks about coming home late from prom with a couple of tight ends. I think that’s probably the last time I’ve ever heard anyone address me in that tone.”
“We thought you’d gone into the ice cave,” Julie explained. “We thought you were in danger.”
“Have you seen that thing?” Bonnie wrinkled her nose in disgust. “It’s nasty, just mud and yuck. We weren’t going to go crawling in there.”
“The guy who gave us a lift warned us that it was only safe in winter,” Jon waved to the bartender. “Unlike Bonnie here, who didn’t quite scroll all the way down to the bottom of the webpage when she pitched the idea.” He waved around at the bar. “He’s the one who recommended this place.”
“How could you not have told us about a hotel?” Bonnie was beside herself with indignation, “I mean for God’s sake, we’re camped in a swampy field, when there’s a perfectly good taproom right here!”
They’re safe, Kea reminded herself. Everyone’s perfectly safe, calm down. She nibbled from the bowl of peanuts, using the momentary distraction to settle her voice. “We’re camped for nearly four months, the price would be astronomical,” she said defensively. “Not to mention, there wouldn’t be enough rooms for everyone.”
“You could have at least given us the option,” Bonnie persisted.
Kea felt as if she was trying to reason with a truant child. “How on earth did you think you were going to get back to camp?”
“Dunno.” Bonnie shrugged. “Hitchhiked again probably or walked. It’s only a couple of miles.”
Before Kea co
uld unleash a suitable response, Jon intervened, holding out a pint of beer and escorted her to one of the little tables located away from the bar.
She let herself be led away if only to mentally regroup and use the time to look for a blunt instrument with which to start hitting people. There was an ornamental paddle affixed to the wall that had caught her eye and looked hefty enough.
“Of course, we had to fire Simon.” Bonnie returned to talking to Erik, Kea’s outburst already forgotten. “I told you, the guy broke into the company’s lactation room and drank all the breast milk. What were we supposed to do, promote him?”
“So, what’s it like?” Jon asked, bringing Kea’s attention back to their table.
“Sorry?” Kea finally realized he was staring at her with, of all things, notable interest.
“The ice caves.” It was obvious that he was trying to distract her, to calm her down, except once his startling blue eyes locked with hers, they had the exact opposite effect.
“It’s… fine,” she said, words eluding her. It didn’t help that he was wearing one of those tight-fitting white knit shirts with the V-necks that exposed a swath of chest hair and a glimpse of the sharp edges of his pectorals. She found herself keenly aware of her own appearance: grimy ball cap, raincoat, and snow pants. Dressed to perform a rescue or deliver a throw down, not a tête-à-tête with a lick-the-mirror-handsome man sitting across from her. In a moment of true horror, it dawned on her that she had completely forgotten to put on deodorant.
“You okay?” Jon asked, still gazing at her.
“Yes.” Kea found herself fixated on his nose – so firm and straight, it was impressive enough to prop up the Tower of Pisa. “Well, clearly no,” she admitted after a moment. “But for now, I’m just glad you’re all safe.”
“You don’t seem terribly glad.” Jon took a sip of his drink, the foam leaving a trace of white mustache on his upper lip.
Kea fought down the urge to wipe it off with her finger, afraid she would look like a doting mother. “I think,” she pondered instead, “someone needs to create a word to describe feeling tremendously relieved while still wanting to knock peoples’ heads in.”
“It’s been a rough couple of days.” Jon nudged her glass and raised his own in a toast. “To Bruce.”
“To Bruce.” Kea let it swirl around her mouth for a moment before swallowing. The beer was bitter and heady, but not unpleasant. She took two more pulls while Jon sat patiently, lost in his own thoughts.
“Sorry. We… I,” she corrected herself, “was worried about all of you.”
“Personally, I’m worried about all of us. It looks like we’re living in a minefield.” Jon pointed behind her, where the hotel owner had framed a collection of different maps each with different dimensions and frames, that formed a collage of Iceland. Highlighted on each were little red triangles representing volcanoes. “How do you pronounce this one?” He asked with all the innocence of a school kid holding an apple behind his back.
I know what you’re doing, she thought, and thank you. “Eyjafjallajökull.” She sat back in her chair slightly, relaxing into her professor persona.
“One more time?” His eyebrows contorted in a playful dance of confusion.
Kea laughed and repeated each syllable slowly. “AY-yah-fyad-layer-kuh-tel. 2010 was an amazing eruption,” she reflected. “It truly would be a pity if the world forgot the event just because no one could pronounce it.”
“I think we’ll have to disagree on the amazing part.” His teeth smiled a perfect smile, shining bright against his bronze skin. “I was stuck in London for nearly a week.”
Kea nodded. When Eyjafjallajökull blew its top in 2010, not only did the eruption melt large volumes of the overlying ice - the resulting plume of ash and gas reached an altitude of more than thirty thousand feet. It caused havoc for the airline industry, stranding passengers and devastating profits.
“The main issue for planes is the ash, which is essentially just silica, or glass,” she explained. “When it gets sucked into a jet engine, it can melt and fuse on the turbines, clogging the engines. London is definitely a safer option,” she reflected. “Plus, amazing curries.”
“Are we in any danger from Eya...Eya...?” Jon finally gave up. “From that volcano where we are now?”
“Not as such,” Kea reassured him. He was still wearing that goofy foam mustache. “You passed that region on your drive out here, about two hours west.” She pointed to another map where two small ice caps sat at the southernmost point of the island. “But we’re here,” she pointed to the largest ice cap. “Eruptions can occur throughout the island. It’s what makes being situated on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge so exciting.”
He stared at her with a raised eyebrow, a charming smile on his face.
“Iceland straddles a spreading center,” Kea explained. “A ridge of volcanic activity that separates the Northern America plate and the Eurasian plates. It’s the longest mountain range in the world, but it’s all under the Atlantic Ocean, except here in Iceland.” She traced the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, a jagged line that split the island into three regions. “Thingvallavatn Lake lies right on top of the Silfra fissure.” She pointed to a lake just northeast of Reykjavik. “You can go snorkeling there, actually swim between the two plates.”
“Have you ever done it?” He wasn’t looking at the map anymore.
Kea found his intense stare unsettling. “No,” she admitted. “I usually only have enough time and money to keep coming back to this same field site year after year.” She stared at the array of maps, struck by their detail and variety. “I would like to make a trip around the entire island at some point, but I’ll have to wait until the work is done.”
Finishing his beer, Jon plonked the empty glass on the table and looked up expectantly. “When does the work end?”
“That,” Kea chuckled, “is a great question.”
“Well,” Jon said softly, “let me know if you find yourself in need of company.”
Kea flushed bright red. She drank from her glass slowly to buy herself time before attempting a response.
After the expedition, you can explore options, she told herself. For now, volunteers are off limits.
“I meant to ask,” she began, desperate to change the subject. “Tony overheard you guys mention that someone…” She couldn’t believe that she was going to even ask this. It must be the beer talking. “Someone parked their dinner outside of Max’s tent the first night. Do you know who it was?”
Jon pulled back, puzzled at her choice of words before understanding finally dawned. His expression changed completely, as if she had thrown ice water in his face.
“I thought you knew,” he said slowly.
She realized that she had misread his expression. It held only sadness. “Pretty sure it was Bruce. He hated Max. We think it was his final farewell.”
“Bruce did it?” Disgusted and eschewing the visual that popped into Kea’s head, she pressed further. “I assumed it was a rivalry between you guys and Corvis. Whatever did Bruce do it for?”
Jon shifted in his chair, as if not comfortable speaking ill of the dead. “Bruce blew a big project recently. Max couldn’t fire him, because Bruce owned copyrights on some of the tech, but Max demoted him and knocked his salary in half. Not enough that he couldn’t live on it, just enough to humiliate him.” Jon nodded toward the sign for the restroom. “Back in a sec, I want to hear more about swimming in the rift.”
At least I still haven’t lost my power to drive men away, Kea thought. She noticed that Julie was practically sitting in Erik’s lap.
One more week indeed, she thought, catching Julie’s eye. You and me both. Why can’t men hit on me when I can actually do something about it?
Jon’s revelation lingered in her head. It was no less confusing or bizarre than everything else had been this trip, but still. Bruce, what the hell have you been up to?
Bonnie’s voice grew louder, buoyed by the alcohol. “Look, we hadn’t
heard from her for weeks before we came here. Why on earth she wanted to go to Austria, I have no idea. I think she was just sick of Max hitting on her.”
Kea’s curiosity was piqued. “Tiko?” she chimed in.
“No,” Bonnie turned to her. “Max was fixated on Andrea.”
“Dunno about that,” Erik laughed. “He’s wrapped around Tiko like a wire brush now that Andrea’s gone.”
“What does that even mean?” Bonnie shook her head. “Tiko’s just… convenient.”
“Gone?” Kea struggled to remember the conversation she’d had with Bruce. She had assumed Bruce meant Andrea had just quit the company.
Bonnie waved a wad of cash at the bartender, motioning for another pint. “We got an email from her saying she’d resigned. No one has seen hide nor hair of her since. Bruce was gutted.”
“I imagine anyone would be.” Kea wasn’t quite sure what Bonnie was suggesting.
“Well, yeah, but Bruce was particularly sweet on old Andrea.” Bonnie bobbed her head up and down as if Kea knew exactly what she meant. “I think she was just upset how badly Max treated Bruce and just took some time off.”
“Bruce and Andrea… were a thing?” Kea tried to digest this information. Was that what ended his marriage? Or was it after? She was beginning to think she had no idea who her friend really was.
“Couldn’t say, dear, I’m in HR. We can’t comment on those things.” Bonnie tapped the side of her nose. “But he was devastated when she went missing, absolutely destroyed. His wife was going to get everything in the divorce, whatever was left anyway. No wonder he took a dive.”
A part of Kea’s heart buckled. She realized she had held out hope that there had been a mistake, that there had been foul play, that anything had happened, anything other than her friend committing suicide. She stared into the dregs of her beer, wondering at the sight of the little splashes that marred its surface. It was only then that she realized she was crying.